What is the point of all the scribal laws? Why must the Torah be copied by hand? Why must the sofer endure such a long and arduous process?

The answer to these questions requires us to understand the purpose of the sofer.

Soferim are more than just copyists; they are entrusted with the duty of safeguarding and accurately transmitting the Torah text from generation to generation.  This intense duty of transmission is what the laws of safrus really address, not the mere aspects of transcription.

If the ultimate goal of the copyist is to simply produce a copy of the text, then we could merely use a xerox machine to accomplish our goal.   Alternatively, if you are feeling “old-fashioned,” you could build a robot to scribble out the Torah with quill,  ink, and parchment.

But this is not what the halacha wants of us. The halacha wants the scribe to set his hands, eyes, mind, and heart  upon every single stroke of every single letter of every single word of the Torah.

As the scribe writes, each word must be said aloud.  Additionally, every holy name, before it is written, must be sanctified with the statement: “Behold! I write this for the sake of the Holiness of the Name of G-d.”

Upon completion of a new scroll, every letter must be checked to make sure that its form is correct. Every word must be checked for correct spelling. The layout must be checked to ensure that the text is clearly divided into the requisite number of paragraphs. This process is repeated numerous times before the Torah can be consecrated for ritual use.

Any unrepaired or uncorrected defect  and halacha may requires the scroll to be buried.  The very existence of a defective scroll threatens our mesorah, our chain of transmission, and must be put far beyond the reach of human hand or eye.

To produce a kosher scroll, the sofer must anguish, both in body and soul, over every stroke of the quill…

The halacha require that, in order for the scroll to be valid, it has to be copied letter-by-letter from another scroll.  This “master scroll” must have been checked against numerous other scrolls and proven repeatedly to free from defect.

This master scroll, or Tikkun,   is quite literally the scribe’s bible.   Prior to the printing press, there were a number of Tikkun scrolls in Europe that were famous for their kashrus and pristine layouts.   Scribes would often travel long distances to access these  scrolls to copy from them or to check their own works.

In the 16th century, these master scrolls were reproduced via printing.  Their texts were meticulously type-set, and various instructions were included regarding layouts and arrangement of the open and closed paragraphs (the subject of a future post…).   These printed versions, repeatedly checked against the original master scrolls, were portable and affordable, allowing the sofer to carry out his work with greater speed and efficiency.

Unfortunately, these tikkunim did not solve many of the more complex issues in safrus.   The biggest problem that most soferim wrestle with is layout.   There are a number of ideal features that form the skeleton of the Torah scroll.  For example:

• Each line must fill the width of the column from one end to the other,
• The layout of blank spaces, lines, and paragraphs is very strictly mandated by halacha.  Errors in this department can seriously affect the validity of a scroll,
• Ideally, there are six columns in the Torah that should begin with specific letters,
• Certain special sections (Az Yashir, the Song at the Sea, and Ha’azinu) must be layed out according to even more specialized parameters,
• Ideally, specific groups of lines should be skipped in certain areas and between certain sections of the text.

The challenge of the sofer is to drape the “tissue” of the text over the “skeleton” of formal benchmarks in such a way that all of the requirements of the layout are met.  This is complicated by the fact that the letters are not of uniform size and, therefore, the sofer must adjust the number of letters per each line with great caution.  Sometimes letters may need to be compressed or stretched to make sure that the right text ends up in the right place.

Several decades ago, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Davidowitsch conducted a survey of numerous master scrolls and printed tikkunim, comparing their layouts and proposed solutions to a variety of common scribal problems.

The result of this endeavor was the Davidowitsch Tikkun  - a master scroll written by Rabbi Davidowitsch.

This scroll is simply immaculate.  It impeccably solves problems in layout, spacing, and structure that many (including even the Kesses ha-Sofer, the greatest authority on safrus) thought were irresolvable.   In the 1980’s, the entire scroll was photographed and published as  a printed Tikkun.  Overnight, Rabbi Davidowitsch, already an established Torah scholar and sofer, became a scribal superstar.  Although he is now more-or-less retired, the Rabbi is still considered by many to be the greatest sofer of the past century (or even two centuries), and one of the world’s foremost authorities on safrus.  His tikkun is the gold standard used by almost all soferim for producing Torah scrolls.

Besides reproducing Rabbi Davidowitsch’s marvelous layout of the text, the Tikkun also does the following:

• It is full of footnotes and emendations indicating scribal traditions and  oddities.  These notes  have more or less established the standard for modern Torahs.
• Among the annotations are guides as to which Divine Names must be sanctified before writing, which are sanctified out of doubt, and which names only appear to be divine names, but that aren’t actually.  Knowing the status of these names has a big impact on the writing process and kashrus of the scroll.
• He demonstrates a method for laying out the text so that each column (with the exception of 6 particular columns) begins with the Hebrew letter vov.  This format is known as “vovei amudim.”  Although the vovei amudim layout is considered preferable by many experts, the main manual for scribes, the Kesses ha-Sofer, frowned upon it.  In order to pull off  vovei amudim,  the soferim had to excessively stretch and squish letters at the ends and beginnings of the columns.  The Kesses felt that any benefit of the vovei amudim layout was offset by the contortion of the letter forms.   However, Rabbi Davidowitch’s vovei amudim is simply wonderful.
• Each line is accompanied by notes tabulating the letter-values of the line (check back Thursday for more info on this…) relative to the standard width of the line itself.   Knowing these numbers helps the sofer tremendously to know how to space his script ahead of time so that each line comes out fairly even.  Although this technique has been around for a loooooooong, looooooong time, Rabbi Davidowitsch’s layout creates very conservative and even line-values.

Please check back later  for pictures and samples from the Davidowitsch Tikkun and examples from famous master scrolls….

About six or seven times-per-year, I get contracted to do major repair or restoration work on antique Torah scrolls.   Restoring antique scrolls is tricky and really, really time consuming.    Because of the time commitment, I decided to avoid doing restorations while writing the CTC Torah Scroll, with the exception of some historic Torahs owned by the Dallas Holocaust Museum.

However,  just before starting the CTC Torah, I received a call from an elderly couple living in Athens, Texas who, surprisingly, had a Sefer Torah to be restored.   While I may still be new to Texas, I don’t think “Athens, TX” and immediately thereafter think: “Oh, Athens? Well, Jews, naturally….”

Out of curiosity,  I drove to Athens to take a look.  The story was that the wife of this nonagenarian couple came to the US with her family from Algiers around WWII.   Among their possessions was a Sefer Torah.  Upon the death of this woman’s father, she inherited this Torah, which sat in a trunk for almost 50 years.

She and her husband decided to have the scroll restored and to donate it to a conservative synagogue in Austin, TX.

After 50 years in a trunk, the Torah was in very good condition and didn’t need much work to bring it back to usable condition.  So, I took the job.

I noticed three immediate things about this scroll:

1 ) It was very, very heavy.  In fact, it may be the heaviest Torah that I have ever lifted.

2) It was on wooden rollers.  Sephardi Torah Scrolls are traditionally housed in boxes such as this:

Sephardi Torah Scroll in its Distinctive Case

This scroll, which is Sephardi, was probably in a box at some point and only later removed to rollers.    The problem with having a scroll like this, meaning this incredibly heavy,  on rollers is that it makes hagbah (the traditional raising of the Torah Scroll before or after having been read) very difficult.

Hagbah - The Raising of the Torah Scroll Either Before or After the Public Torah Reading

3) It was mashuach.   A long time ago it was fashionable to whitewash the writing surface of the parchment with a plaster-like substance called log that made the parchment very white and very smooth to write upon.  The plaster fills any gaps and pores, smoothing the surface, and just soaks the ink right in, drying quickly.   Klaf treated like this is called mashuach, coated parchment.
This particular Torah is mashuach.  And mashuach is bad news.

The Surface of Mashuach (Coated) Parchment. Note the white surface and brushstrokes in the plaster.

The coating of mashuach klaf eventually powders, crumbles, then flakes off. If you take a black cloth and rub it across the surface, you can see the powdering of the coating.

The first problem with Torahs written on mashuach parchment has to do with general kashrus.  According to many poskim (decisors of Jewish law)  it is ossur (prohibited)  to coat the parchment for two reasons:

1 – According to the Teshuvos Mahari Mintz, the layer of log on the surface is a barrier between the ink and the parchment.  In a kosher Sefer Torah, the ink must cling directly to the parchment,

2 – According to the Benei Yonah, the problem is that the log eventually crumbles away, destroying the text and leading to transgressing the prohibition against erasing the Divine Name of G-d.

A few poskim have allowed coated parchment under the logic that the coating is a fulfillment of Exodus 15:2 – Zeh Keli ve-anveyhu, “This is my G-d and I will beautify Him,” which exhorts the Jews to execute the mitzvos in a way that is beautiful.

The Rabbinic consensus, however, is that coated parchment is prohibited for the two aforementioned reasons.

Nowadays, nobody writes Torahs on coated parchment and, if one did, almost no shul (synagogue) would use it. However, using antique mashuach scrolls in synagogues nowadays require consultation with an expert on Jewish law.

Repairing mashuach scrolls is exceedingly difficult because of the reason of the Benei Yonah: that the log coating slowly comes off as powder, then crumbs, then whole flakes, taking the writing with it.

Another issue not mentioned in the Benei Yonah is that the coating is moisture sensitive and can severely oxidize the ink, turning it red and smearing bir red blotches.

Example of smearing and oxidization

Oxidization on the back of the mashuach parchment.

Restoring a mashuach sefer is a little like nailing jello to a tree or trying to herd a bunch of cats.  Each time that a letter is corrected or the parchment cleaned, it only takes rolling the parchment back on the rollers to crumble off more log and undo the repairs.

I had to take this Sefer Torah outside and airgun it page-by-page to remove the powder.  I then used a special cloth to remove remaining residue.   Where the coating was exceptionally rough and deteriorated,  the writing had to be scraped clean and the place sanded smooth.   Each letter that had crumbled away or badly oxidized had to be re-written.

Note how the letters of the word in the center have mostly crumbled away.

The crumbled letters after correction.

Badly crumbled and oxidized letters - note that the first letter of the line is supposed to be a "beis," however it is missing its heel. Also, the leg of the "gimmel" is detached from it's body

The same section after correction

The whole project is complicated by the fact that this Torah’s parchment was not just coated with log on the front, but on the back as well.  This double coating is the reason why the scroll weighs so much.  It also accelerated the oxidization by sandwiching the ink between two layers of plaster.

Aside from the issue of the coating, this sefer has numerous scribal problems.  While the writing is beautifully spaced, the actual forms of the letters are incorrect in many instances.   The most common problem is that the sofer consistently drops the heel  back of he letter “beis” when writing it  in a tight spot.   As we’ll see in our next videos on the forms of the Hebrew letters, this heel MUST be part of any “beis.”    This means that every beis, in particular, must be carefully checked and corrected.

In short -

• Don’t buy Torah Scrolls written on mashuach (coated) parchment.
• If a synagogue has a mashuach scroll, it must have the scroll checked more often than plain-parchment scrolls.  About every 3 or 3.5 years is a good schedule for checking.
• Old or antique mashuach scrolls are not usually worth having restored, because even average usage will wear them out much faster than plain-parchment scrolls.

We last left off in the last post just having marked guidelines for cutting the nib:

And now we go on to finishing cutting the kulmus (quill)…

Step 9 – Cutting the Nib

• Turn the quill over.  Using a #10 scalpel blade, gently shave both edges of the pesach ha-chetzit to the tip.

• Carefully trim each side, keeping the knife blade always at a right-angle to the wall of the kulumus.  The final product should look like this:

Step 10 – Prepare the Tip.

• With the pesach facing upwards, lay the quill on a table and nick the tip straight across with a straight-edged razor blade.   Press hard and fast for a clean, sharp cut.

Step 11 – Making the Chituch, or Kav

• If you don’t have great eyesight (like me!) then you may want to use a magnifying lens for this step.  Take a double-edged razor blade (they are good and thin) and place it perpendicular to the tip and in the exact middle.  Press gently and slowly,  splitting the tip to a depth of 4 or 5 mm.

• The cut has to be exactly centered, or else the quill will not write as it should.

Step 12 – The Final cut.

• As of now, the tip of the quill is straight.  It is almost impossible to write with a straight quill because our hands naturally hold pens, pencils, etc. at an angle.   So, the tip has to be sliced to an angle.

• There are two ways of doing this, both of which are a constant source of debate among soferim as to which is better.

• The first method, and less used, is to flip the quill over, with the pesach (opening) facing upwards  and, with the straight-edged razor blade, cut about a 30 or 35 degree angle sloping down to the right (if you are right handed).  This makes a nib with an even tip. This is called pshuta.

• The second method, called darga, is done by holding the quill in writing position and pressing the nib onto a hard surface with the same pressure with which you would normally write.  The split at the end of the quill will separate a little.  Then take the straight edged blade, and press straight down, nicking the tip at about a 35 degree angle sloping down to the left.

• Since the tip is spread when you make this cut, the tip will only be even when it is pressed down again with the same degree of pressure.  At rest, the tip is uneven.  Many soferim like this cut because they say it makes for straight lines and leaves a nice sharp tip for making taggim (the crowns on the letters).

• I usually write with a darga quill, but have found that a poshuta is sometimes better depending on the texture of the klaf.

Step 13- Sizing and Testing

• Now that we have a working quill, it has to be sized.  Ideally, you quill-stroke should be 1/6 the height of the line.

• While 1/6 is the theoretical ideal, all the best soferim cut the quill a little thinner, fitting 6.5 or even 7 strokes to the hieght of the line.  I am trying to write like this more nowadays because it is WAAAAY more legible than a 6-stroker.

• Upon first test, the quill was a shade to wide.  I need to trim it a little by shaving the entire length of the nib down to the tip:

• Perfect – 6.5 strokes in the line.  Now to see how it writes.  Many soferim have a minhag to write the word “Amalek” to test their quill, and then immediately blot, cross out, or smear it to fulfill the mitzva of wiping out Amalek.  I prefer to write “shalom” because I can tell a lot about a new quill from how it writes a “shin:”

• Lastly, I put a bend in the quill at the point where the quill falls at the joint between my thumb and hand.   This just makes it more comfortable.

That’s about it!

There are three rules to maintaining the quill:

1) Keep it clean – even a tiny hair or bit of fuzz on the tip can ruin the writing.  Dried ink can also make writing difficult.   The moment something feels funny, stop and rinse the quill in lukewarm water, removing all the ink.  Shake it out, then blow it dry with compressed air.  Also, clean it thoroughly after every use.

2) Keep it sharp – as you write, the nib gets dull.  Sharpen the tip and recut the darga with a blade regularly.

3) Keep it Dry – When not using the quill, make sure that it is kept dry and clean.

Next week, we’ll continue looking at more of the ingredients of making a Sefer Torah…

Finally we get to the kulmus, the quill – the real “beating heart” of safrus.

Becoming a sofer has more to do with cutting and maintaining the quill than it does with writing.  Similarly,  becoming a shochet has more to do with the technique of preparing and maintaining one’s blades than it does with the act of shechita.

Mastery of  cutting/maintaining a quill is ultimately what separates the professional scribe from the dilettante.

The sofer’s relationship to the kulmus is complex, to say the least.   If you treat your kulmus well, and pay close attention to what it needs,  then it will reward you.   Treat your kulmus poorly, and it will betray you.  Badly.  Very badly.

Soferim spend so much time caring and maintaining their quills, that the whole subject of kulmus becomes something of a personal one.  I know this sounds terribly romantic, but it is true:  that I am about to describe my cutting technique feels a little like baring my heart, like sharing some deep personal secret (I guess, in a way, that’s the purpose of this whole project…)

Every sofer develops their “secret” methods for preparing a kulmus.   It took me about a year-and-a-half of cutting two or more quills per-week (on average) until I found a cut that that really works for my hand.  Here is my method, but please understand that I’m currently re-evaluating my cutting technique at the moment because I want to make changes to my ksav (writing style), so this method may change:

Step 1 – Picking the Feather

• According to halacho, there are many materials from which one can make a pen. The custom of Ashkenazim is to write with a feather, while Sephardim use a reed.     Many of the poskim debate whether or not the feather must be from a kosher bird.   However, Sefer Mishnas ha-Sofer (a commentary on Kesses ha-Sofer, the main halachic guide for sofrim) says that the custom is not to be strict about this.

• The feather must be large enough so it can be easily cut and comfortably  maneuvered in the hand.   A 2  cm circumference is about as small as I like to go.   For this reason, turkey or goose feathers tend to be best because they are big.  While I prefer goose because it stays sharper longer, turkey feathers are still larger and more readily available.  Regardless of which bird they come from, we want first or second primary flight feathers because they are the longest and thickest on the wing.

• The cross section of the feather should be elliptical.  Specifically, it should be flatter on the sides where you would hold it when writing.

• An important rule: for a right-handed sofer, you want primary feathers from the bird’s left wing and vice-versa for a left-handed sofer.  The reason is that these feathers have a natural  curve to them.  Ideally, you want the shaft of the feather to curve slightly away from your body, other wise it is awkward to write with it.

A Nice Big Turkey Feather

[Step 1A - Curing the Quill - Optional]

• I put this step in as a parenthetical one because not everyone does it.   A quill fresh off the bird should be left to dry before cutting.  Otherwise it will be too soft to do anything with.  Even after drying, many soferim add other methods to prepare the feather for cutting.  The four most common are sand curing, water curing, acid curing, and microwave curing:

• Sand Curing – Take a coffee can and fill it with fine sand.  Put it in the oven at about 350 F for 25  minutes.  While heating, cut the tip off the quill and scoop out the interior.  When the sand is ready, remove it from the oven and let it sit for about 5 minutes.  Stir the sand about a bit with a metal spoon and then plunge the quill into it at  depth of 2 or 2.5 inches and leave it until the sand cools.  When you remove the quill, it will have changed color from opaque white to clearish yellow.  While this is a standard method for secular calligraphers,  I find that it makes the quill WAAAAY to brittle for safrus.   Even normal trimmig/sharpening can shatter or crack it.

• Water Curing – the same as sand curing, but you soak the quill in water for two or three hours before placing it into the sand.   I have tried it this way and found that sometimes it makes a better quill and sometimes makes for a very brittle quill.  Hit or miss.

• Acid Curing – cut off the tip of the quill and clean it out.  Mix 1 part water to 1 part vinegar and pour it into a tumbler at a depth of 3 cm.  Place the quill into the solution and let it soak for 48 hours.  When done, remove the quill, rinse, dry it and then it is ready for cutting.  Although I usually don’t use any of these curing methods, I am becoming a fan of acid curing.  It makes the quill very soft and much easier to cut, yet after a few hours, the quill returns to its proper hardness.  It may be my imagination, but I think that acid cured quills last longer than just-dried-out quills.  However, I notice that the tips warp a little over time.

• Microwave Curing – you just zap the quill for 10 second blasts multiple times until the color changes to a yellowish/clear.   Remember to cut the tip off first or else it will explode.   I’ve never tried this one, but the idea of it kind of scares me.

• Doing Nothing – Usually, by the time your quills arrive in the mail, or after you let them dry for a few weeks after getting them from the farm, they can be cut into great-writing quills without messing around with sand, acid or microwaves.   This is what most people do.

• The rest of this post is written assuming that the quills have merely been allowed to dry.

Step 2 – Strip the Plumes

• While they may be pretty, the plumes get in the way when writing.  For this reason, most soferim strip the plumes from one or both sides.  There is an idea to leave some plumes on the quill to beautify it in the spirit of zeh keli ve-anveihu, “This is my G-D and I will beautify him,” but many soferim do this only for the siyum ha-torah.

• Grasp the plumes firmly near the top and pull straight down to the tip. Stop before you get all the way down, lest the shaft tear, and then gently cut them away.

Stripping the Plume

Step 3 – Cleaning off the Membranes

• There is a thin, waxy membrane on the surface of the shaft that has to be removed.  First, I lightly scrape the surface with the back of a utility blade to remove the bulk of the membrane.

• Having done this, I scrape my thumbnail all over the surface of the rachis to remove any lingering pieces and to even out the surface of the quill.

Removing the Remaining Bits with my Thumbnail

Step 4 – Sizing the Quill

• A long quill is unwieldy, so it is a good idea to trim it to a comfortable size for your hand.   About a year ago, I was shown a neat trick for measuring the quill that matches it perfectly to the hand.

• Grasp the quill like so, spreading the thumb and little finger nice and wide, and lining up the tip of the quill with the tip of the thumb:

Measuring the Quill with a Zeres

• Cut off the excess overhanging the pinky finger.

Cutting Away the Excess

• The resulting size is perfect.  While I don’t know who came up with this method, it reminds me of the posuk in Yeshaya 40:12 that states  Ha-Shem “measured the heavens with a zeres.” A zeres is the span of the hand from little-finger to thumb.

Step 5 – Cutting the Tip

• If you used one of the curing methods in Step 1a, then you have already cut the tip.   Otherwise, then use a utility knife to carefully cut off the tip at a clean 45 degree angle. Be gently, ontherwise the quill could crack near the tip.  If that happens then you will have a lot of work to do to salvage the quill. DON’T CRACK THE TIP!

Cutting the Tip

After the Cut

Step 6 – Clean the Interior

• The inside of the quill has a bunch of parallel, loose, crinkly membranes – called kashkeshes ha-krumim in Hebrew, that must be removed before going further.

The Interior Membranes are Visible When the Rachis is Held to a Light

• Use a long  thin screw driver to clean out as much as you can.  Anything that you can’t get out should be pushed as far up the barrel as possible.

Step 7 – The Pesach ha-Chetzi

• At this point, measure 2.5 cm from the tip and mark the circumference of the quill.

• Then flip the quill over and rotate it about to find the exact center line and then make a mark parallel to it near on the tip.

• Then draw lines on the side of the quill dividing it at the halfway point, and extend these lines  to the tip.

• Turn the quill over with the opening facing upwards.  Gently shave from the circumference mark down to the opening like this:

• This opening is called the pesach ha-chetzi.  Note that the shape of the cut is a “scoop,” and that it doesn’t start with a right angle:

Step 8 – Marking Guidelines for the Nib

• Draw a circumference line 1 cm from the tip.

• From where this line meets the edge of the pesach ha-chetzi, draw two gently arching lines over the top to the center-line mark at the tip:

• It is very important that the slope of these lines be proper.  Their cut will determine the degree of spring at the tip of the nib.  This affects ink flow and the amount of pressure needed to write.  The narrower these lines, the more flexible the quill, the better the ink flow, and you will get finer lines.  However, you will have less control and the writing will not be so sharp.   If the cut is broader, you will have more control and a sharper ksav (at least at first), but the ink flow will be awkward and you will have to press hard.  This pressure dull the quill quickly.

In the next post we’ll start the actual cutting of the nib.   Please check back tomorrow for more!

Although there are several ink recipes batted about amongst the Rishonim and Acharonim, everyone today makes ink from three basic ingredients:

• Kuma = Gum Arabic, acts as a binder to keep the ink attached to the klaf
• Kankantum = Iron Sulfate (although the Mishna Berura 32:8 seems to identify this a copper sulfate; I’ve seen this in other places too)
• Mei Afatzim = Gall Nut Juice

The most curious ingredient of the lot is Gall Nut juice.  “What is a gall nut?” you may ask…

Some species of wasps (the Marble wasp, for example) lay their eggs in oak tree branches and twigs.  When the tree identifies a possible parasite has having moved in, it quickly grows a large knot, a “gall nut,” around the foreign body to isolate  it from doing more damage.

Oak Gall Nuts on the Tree

Interior of an Oak Gall Nut. The White Ball on the Knife Tip is the Wasp Egg

Gall nuts are important because they are rich in tannic acid  The pure black tint of the ink results from the reaction between the tannic acid and iron sulfate.

There are a LOT of ink recipes out there.   This is the most basic one and is from the sefer Chasdei Dovid:

• 3 g  Gum Arabic
• 3 g Oak Galls
• 3 g Iron Sulfate
• 0.25 liters filtered or distilled water

Crush the galls as finely as possible.

Mix all the ingredients together into a sturdy pot.

Cook the mixture for a long time on low to medium heat until you have only a gloopy sort of residue left.

Strain out all the solid material using a fine mesh.

Pour the strained residue into a clear glass bottle and seal it tightly.  Let it sit for about 6 months until it turns jet black.

If a Sofer doesn’t have 6 months to wait, or his wife doesn’t like him messing about in the kitchen with gall nuts and ferrous sulfate, the alternative is to buy ready-made ink.

Nahari Brand Safrus Ink - The MUCH Easier Way of Getting Ink!

The commercially produced safrus ink is pretty good, but tends to dry out.  I have to add water to it to it regularly.  On the other hand, it is much more stable than the homemade stuff, which can develop mold and other odd afflictions.

Another advantage of the commercially available ink is that it has a matte finish (well, at least all the ink I’ve ever bought).  Many sofrim like to make or buy very glossy ink because it looks nice against the white parchment.   I don’t like glossy ink because it’s reflectivity annoys many a baal korei.

Next up – making the quill…

While  all of the Rishonim agree that this law applies to mezuzos, yet not to tefillin, there is a dispute between Rashi and  Rabbeinu Tam (Rashi’s grandson) as to whether or not a Sefer Torah must be written with guidelines.

The Acharonim, however, bring proof from the Talmud Yerushalmi and Maseches Sofrim that the halacha is like Rashi that a Sefer Torah has the same law of a mezuza: it must have guidelines or else it is posul.

Now, I mentioned above that tefillin do not require guidelines.  While this is the fundamental law, the Rama in O.C. 32 tells us that the custom has become to use guidelines for all safrus, including tefillin.

How are these guidelines made?

A long time ago sofrim used an instrument called a sargel to score lines on the klaf.  This was simply a stick with a sharp thorn affixed to it.

A Friend's Sargel

Although modern technology makes scoring much easier,  a few sofrim still use sargelim today.

Nowadays, when a sofer orders klaf it arrives pre-scored by a machine.  The machine scoring is excellent, and guarantees identical lines from page-to-page without fail.   I’m sure it also makes the klaf-makers job a lot easier!

Next in this series: Making ink (messy, messy, messy…)

The Torah states in Shemos 13:9, Lemaan tihiyeh Toras HaShem be-ficha, “So that the Torah of HaShem should be in your mouth.”

The Gemora in Shabbos 108a learns from this verse that the Torah must literally be mutar beficha, permitted to place in one’s mouth, meaning that the materials which comprise a Sefer Torah must come from those animals and sources that are Kosher. Therefore, the hide upon which a Sefer Torah is written must be from a kosher animal. The animal from which the hide is obtained doesn’t need to actually be shechted, which would make it literally possible to eat the hide, but the animal must only be of a kosher species. It is therefore possible to write upon the hides of deer, cattle, and kosher birds. Theoretically, one could even make kosher parchment from the skin of kosher fish! However, the Rishonim tell us not to use fish skin because “de-nafish zuhamei,” it “contaminates” continually. The meaning of this statement is a little unclear. According to some, it means that fish skin never stops smelling like…well… dead fish, and it is thus inappropriate to use them as parchment for holy writing. Others understand it to mean that the natural oils in the skin continually seep out even long after the skin is cured. These oils will eventually ruin anything written on the hide. Either way, we don’t use fish skin even though it is technically permitted.

Once the animal is flayed, the hides are soaked in water for two days to clean and soften the skin.

About to Place the Hide in Water

After that, the hides are immersed in a lime-water bath to remove the hair.

(See “More” for More Photos!)

Placing the Hide into the Lime Bath

Halachically, this is the most important step in the making of kosher parchment. The halacha is that the parchment used in writing a Sefer Torah must have been processed with the specific intent that it be used to fulfill the mitzva of Sefer Torah. Immersion in the lime-water is considered the official start of the process of working the hides. Therefore, the laborer must stop, verbally declare “Behold, I place this hide into lime for the sake of the holiness of a Sefer Torah. After about four days of soaking, the hair begins to fall out on its own. After about nine days in the lime-bath, the skins are removed, washed, and then sewn onto a frame upon which they are stretched and dried.

Hides on the Racks

At this point, I should mention that it is possible to split the hide of an animal into two layers: the epidermis (outer layer of the skin) and the dermis (inner layer of the skin), and make different qualities of parchment from each layer of skin.

The Layers of the Skin

In fact, the halacha is that it is preferable to write mezuzos on parchment made from the innermost layer of the skin, the dermis. Parchment made from this layer is called duchsustos. Furthermore, the outer layer of skin, the epidermis, was preferable for writing tefillin. This parchment is called klaf.

Modern Klaf is Thin, Translucent, and White. Gvil, However is Very Thick and Dark

For a Sefer Torah, however, the halacha is that it is preferable to use gvil, the whole, unsplit hide of the animal (which is really just a sheet of thick leather). Up until about 300 years ago, many Sephardi Torah Scrolls were written on the whole unsplit hide.

A Fragment from a 400-plus Year-Old Persian Sefer Torah on Gvil

In our days, klaf has supplanted the other parchments for all sofrus work (klaf may be used for Torahs and mezuzos even though gvil and duchsustos are preferable). The reasons for this change are complex and have much to do with some long-standing uncertainties as to the Gemora’s description of the various tissue layers that comprise the hide. Nevertheless, there is a movement in some circles to resurrect the use of gvil, unsplit hides, for writing Torah Scrolls.

A Modern-Day Sofer Writing on Gvil, Unsplit Hide

A Recent Megillah Written on Gvil, Unsplit Hide

Once upon the frame, the dermis and any still-clinging hair is scraped away from the back and front of the hide with a wide, curved blade until only the klaf remains.

A "Lunar," or Parchmenter's Knife Used for Scraping the Stretched Hides

A 1568 German Woodcut Showing a Parchmenter Scraping Hides. Note That, Although This Scene is 450 Years Old, Many of the Tools and Materials are the Same as Those Used Today

As the hide dries, it is stretched further. Once completely dry, the hide is sanded and evened out with a belt sander or fed through a sanding machine.

Feeding the Klaf Into a Machine That Sands and Finished the Surfaces

The hair side, which is generally not written upon, is smoothed to a slick, wax paper-like texture.

When all this is finished, the hides are then taken off the frame and cut into rectangular sheets called yerios. At this point, the sheets are almost ready for writing. The last step in their preparation is scoring the shirtut, guide lines, which will be the subject of the next post in this series.

The answer is: “Well, not quite…”

There is a very big difference between writing a Sefer Torah and writing tefillin or mezuzos.   When relaying the mitzvos of mezuzos and tefillin, the Torah (Devarim 6:6) opens with the words:

והיו הדברים האלה אשר אנכי מצוך היום על לבבך

These words shall be…

Our sages understand this statement to mean that the words of tefillin and mezuzos “shall be” as they are in the Torah – meaning written in the order in which they are given in the Torah.  The result is the halacho of ki-sidran, the law of the letters being written “in order.”

In tefillin and mezuzos, if one makes a mistake in a letter and only catches it after finishing his writing, he cannot go back and correct it because the corrected letter would have been written out of order.  In such a case, the section of the tefillin or the mezuzah is now posul – unfit for use.

In this situation, the sofer would have to start over.  From experience, I can testify that there is nothing more deflating than, while writing the last line of a mezuzah, catching a tiny error in the opening lines.  Four hours of work immediately evaporate in a flash of forehead-slapping frustration!  It is a mistake that most soferim don’t make twice!

Since the law of kisidran only applies to tefillin and mezuzos, correcting mistakes in a Sefer Torah is much easier.

A common mistake many soferim make after writing for several hours is transposing “tovs” and “hehs.”  The quill strokes required to forms these letters are almost the same, and it is sometimes easy, with a momentary lapse in concentration, to write a “heh” where you should put a “tov” or a “tov” where you need a “heh.”   It is a careless mistake, but every sofer does it a few times when writing a Sefer Torah or a megilla.   Usually, you realize it before you even finish the letter (another moment of forehead-slapping frustration!)

However, I recently checked and repaired a 130 year-old Hungarian Sefer Torah and found two words that should have ended in “hehs,” but instead ended with “tovs!”

On a mechanical level, how do you correct such mistakes?

There are a few techniques employed by professional soferim.   This is the method that I use:

The first step is to let the ink fully dry.  If you try to make corrections while the ink is wet, the result will be a much bigger mess.

The Error - the "heh" should be a "tov."

Second, is to cut out the mistake with a razor blade.  The blade is held in a bent position, and gently “scooped” over the surface of the klaf (parchment), shaving off the thin surface layer containing the error.  Great skill is required to avoid making a hole.

Gently Shaving Away the Surface of the Klaf

Third, is sanding the site.   When one cuts out a mistake, the underlying klaf is very smooth and hard to write upon.  Also, some faint flecks of dyo (ink) remain.  Sanding the place of the cut removes any remaining ink and also restores the natural nap of the parchment, making the place suitable again for writing.   It takes some experimenting to get sandpaper of the right grit for the klaf at hand.  For this Torah, I am using 320 grit all-purpose sand-paper for repairs.

Sanding Out the Cut

Fourth, is to run a polymer drafting eraser over the place to erase any dark spots that may result from sanding over lingering ink.

Erasing

Fifth, is to blow off any excess debris with compressed air.  Blowing by mouth can get bits of moisture on the writing (a very bad thing).   Also, brushing the surface is not good – one should avoid touching the writing lest it be damaged.

Using a Compressed Air Gun to Remove Debris

Sixth – Rewrite…. And…  Voila:

The Corrected Letter

- Rabbi Avraham Chaim Bloomenstiel, Sofer