The History of the Shulḥan ‘arukh and Its Popularization

In those days a new light shone forth over the skies of Polish Jewry—R. Solomon Luria. [ . . . ] This great rabbi was one of those unique individuals, one of those few men of virtue that not every generation merits to behold. In him were united a sharp and deep intellect, a heart as wide as the ocean, a precise, critical eye, and a mighty spirit untainted by fear. Due to his nature, this great genius was worthy to establish great innovations. And indeed, the hour was ripe, and he succeeded in wielding his talents to innovate a watershed in talmudic learning.

Rabbi Solomon Luria was born in Germany and educated at the feet of dry decisors [poskim] so brittle that the touch of a finger could reduce them to dust—this was how people studied in that generation. But one with as wide a spirit as he, could not be satisfied merely with the learning of these decisors. And like our master, R. [Jacob] Pollack in his time, Luria also left Germany, an old community in its death throes, to travel to Poland, a young land full of fresh energy, in which the spirit of living Judaism had just awoken. Like our master R. Jacob Pollack in his time, Luria aspired to change the method of study from “limitation to expansion.” But they were different, for Pollack created an unstable system, the method of “intricate rabbinic discourse” [ḥilukim] [ . . . ] R. Solomon Luria, however, built a formidable system which remained stable for generations to come. He created something new in talmudic learning, something that only a great and fearless genius could accomplish. [ . . . ]

Besides purifying the variations [across different manuscripts]—the primary purpose of his work Ḥokhmat Shlomo (The Wisdom of Solomon, 1582)—talmudic exegesis also takes up much of the work, constituting a beautiful and profound commentary on the Talmud. Luria’s words were few and laconic—but they were also sharp and profound. In most cases he uses few words to express a subject which is as deep as it is wide; more careful study is required to understand it. His exegetical approach to Gemara is also free and his primary objective was to review the talmudic text and to clarify its rationale in each place; he does not apply his wide knowledge of the Talmud to seek contradictions in other talmudic passages to resolve them, as was done by the Tosafists and other exegetes. Often, he informs the reader of the contradiction between the talmudic text and the true rationale, leaving the matter as an open question. In his work, Luria also addressed the chief talmudic exegetes, Rashi and the Tosafists, endeavoring to establish proper readings [of their texts], to interpret their words, and to shed light on unclear statements. [ . . . ]

But this book alone, despite its importance, does not showcase the true extent of R. Solomon Luria’s greatness. His powers and might were most manifest in the realm of halakhic literature, where he developed a new method of halakhic jurisprudence that deserves to be glorified and embraced by all. [ . . . ] Being one of the more extreme expansionists, he sought to reject all halakhic works that preceded him and to use as the basis of his jurisprudence the Talmud, and the Talmud alone. To this end he composed his great book Yam shel Shlomo. Its format is reminiscent of Rashba’s Torat ha-bayit (Law of the House), which was directed against the rulings of Maimonides. However, its content and quality far surpass those of [Rashba’s] work. But if we wish to understand the character of [Luria’s] great work, we must begin with its impressive introduction, in which the author explains his views on the Talmud and halakhic literature in general, delineating his purpose.

He begins by proving that halakhic codices, which were made by those who sought to collect the words of all sages who preceded them in order to put an end to doubt and confusion and to render a final ruling, not only failed to achieve this goal but caused even greater uncertainty. Doubts abounded since the medieval sages who followed them continued to read into their words and to write more books in the same vein. After these came later sages who expounded upon these secondary books, and so on and so forth. [ . . . ]

This was what compelled [Luria] to write this book, its goal to draw forth the law from its talmudic source while also including the opinions of post-tal-mudic sages up to his own time. This entailed reviewing their opinions to see if they have solid basis in the depths of Gemara [ . . . ] And determine the ruling, not by the words of a specific sage, no matter who he is, but rather on the careful study of the words of the Gemara itself. “And he does not believe any one author more than another, even if there is a great difference in their stature, In every case, the Talmud is the ultimate arbiter, and clear proofs will bear witness and justify themselves.” [Yam shel Shlomo: Bava Kama, introduction] [ . . . ]

Look here! He had a great and important vision for this book: to invalidate the authority of all sages who preceded him and to return the lost object to its owner, meaning to return halakhic jurisprudence to the Talmud itself. This book would be, then, a reference book of sorts which would allow one to rule halakhah based on the Gemara. It would be the only book after the Talmud, a book comprehensive and decisive that would require after it no further books or interpretations.