This week we received an inquiry from a customer apparently looking for a stately, distinguished tallis for Shabbos. His main question is whether it’s reasonable for a non-Chassic Jew to opt for a Chabad or Turkish tallis. Since his questions could well be applicable and helpful to other tallit buyers, we’ve opted to post the questions and answers in full.

1. Is it common or at least possible nowadays for non Chassidic Jews to choose a Chassidic tallit (like Chabad or Echt Turkish) just because they like it?
I’d say it’s legitimate, but a bit unusual for a non-Chassidic Jew to wear a Chabad tallis. Regarding the Echt Turkish, what makes it stand apart is not so much the striping, but the heavy thick fabric. It’s probably 30% more fabric that a typical tallit. Personally I like the striping, and my own Shabbos tallit has the same striping pattern (but not the other features). I think Hamefoar Prestige is marketed both to Chassidim and non-Chassidim. It’s quite similar to the Echt Turkish, except for the fabric. Perhaps our choice of wear to classify it on our website is somewhat telling. We could have opted to put it in the Chassidic Tallit category, but in the end we wound up putting it in the general black-striped category.

2. Isn’t is strange to combine an Echt Turkish tallit with Ashkenazi tzitzit? Are they strict rules for combinations?
The vast majority of Chassidim have exactly the same tzitzit as other Chassidim. Only Chabad, Breslov, Radzyn and a few other Chassidic groups follow a different tying custom.

Recently a prospective customer sent in a message asking me for my opinion on the question of whether Ptil Tekhelet (i.e. Murex trunculus dye) is the genuine techelet referred to in the Torah. It’s a huge question. Who am I to say? For those who have the time, energy and interest to explore the topic, there are endless discussions available online. For example, a very good question-and-answer website run by Jerusalem dayanim under the auspices of the Maane Simcha Foundation has an article arguing against Murex trunculus. Well, not really against, but arguing that it’s problematic to consider it genuine techelet.

Just as interesting, and perhaps even more enlightening, were some of the reactions to the argument. I took a quick glance around the website, and it seems that most posts have zero reactions, a few have three or four and this post had 12 at last count. And some of the reactions were nearly article-length! That’s the way it always is when you bring up the topic of techelet.

If you have good Hebrew skills, I strongly recommend you take a look for yourself. For those who don’t, let me at least present one point brought up in the debate. 

The author of the article, Rabbi Shmuel Baruch Ganut, writes, “Imagine there is a certain country somewhere on the globe whose denizens studied the relevant verses and excerpts from the Gemara regarding the form of the etrog. They don’t know what an etrog is, but they know that it’s referred to as pri etz hadar, the flavor of the trunk and the fruit are the same, it forms on the tree over the course of 2-3 years, and when its fruits start to blossom, the fruits from the previous year have not yet fallen from the tree. All of these are signs of the etrog cited in the Gemara. 

“Based on those signs, they then proceed to determine what an etrog is. If they have no tradition handed down from their father and grandfather regarding the identity of the etrog, they very well might wind up taking a lemon or orange instead of an etrog. These, and several other citrus fruits, have the same signs which the Gemara points to as signs of the etrog. Were we to rely solely on the indications cited by Chazal, we could come to the first Yom Tov of Sukkot with an orange or tangerine instead of an etrog.”

In response, a reader who calls himself HaRav Yoel HaKatan counters that “if they have no knowledge of the possibility this is an etrog, and there’s a reasonable chance that the fruit they found is the true etrog, certainly in light of the doubt that it is they would be obligated (without a bracha) to use a fruit that has ten signs, and to hope that in the near future they will clearly know the truth of the matter! Because of the fear they may be wrong, should they forego the mitzvah entirely?”

I know, I know, it’s getting hot. So what’s the ideal way to keep the mitzvah of wearing tzitzit, without getting overheated?

I’m going to start out with some remarks some readers are likely going to reject, but keep reading.

I wear a wool tallit katan most of the year. I maintain that if I were to wear three layers of cotton, it would be hotter than wearing cotton-wool-cotton (cotton undershirt, wool tallit katan, cotton shirt) because cotton absorbs cotton, not wicking it away as well as wool, so you wind up getting soaked and clammy in your three layers of cotton.

Many people solve the issue by wearing a tzitzit undershirt. Personally I haven’t worn one for years. I always assumed cutting down a layer would pretty much do away with the problem, but today I saw this product review one of our customers wrote after ordering a traditional cotton tallit katan and a mesh one.

I’ve been purchasing Perfzits for several years now, due to the year-round heat and humidity in my area. This year I decided to try a couple of both the Traditional Tallit Katans and the Mesh versions. For me, the size chart was a little short but not enough to take away from my satisfaction with both products. The Traditional Tallit Katan was thin, lightweight, and comfortable. With a thin undershirt it felt as if I wasn’t wearing the tallit at all. Very comfortable and highly recommended. – Aryeh

During the peak summer months, I wear a tank top and a traditional cotton tallit katan under my shirt. The only reason I switch to cotton is to enable me to wear a tank top. I find even the super soft wool of our wool undershirt-style tallit katan products (Wool Comfort and Noam Tzitzit) is still itchy without a sleeved undershirt.

For hiking and sports, you might want to go with a TzitzShirt, to cut the layers down to one.

As most people know, a garment made of wool and linen, known as shaatnez, is forbidden. And if you were to tie wool tzitzit onto a linen garment, or linen tzitzit onto a wool garment, it would also be considered shaatnez. 

However, there is one special exception: the Torah permits us to tie wool tzitzit with techelet onto a linen garment. However, if you have any slight doubt that your techelet dye may not be the type of dye delineated in the Torah, you won’t want to take chances creating shaatnez. Therefore it came as a bit of a surprise for me to see the following inquiry in my inbox, Sunday morning, bright and early.

Can you do linen zizit with the wool techelet string for me? Thanks -JMA

Quite a brave soul!

I explained to Mr. JMA that we don’t sell any linen tallit katan garments. Almost nobody makes them because the minhag, brought down in the Shulchan Aruch, is not to use a linen garment nowadays. According to my understanding, even if more people are now using techelet, and even if you hold that Murex trunculus is without a doubt the proper dye, the minhag would not change, because it would be a stumbling block for those who wear wool.

Imagine if you went to your local Judaica shop and saw all sorts of tallit katan garments — wool, cotton, linen and cotton/synthetic blends. Then on another shelf you saw tzitzis strings — wool in machine-spun, hand-spun and niputz lishmah, both all-white and techelet, as well as linen hand-spun all-white tzitzit. Someone could easily wind up wearing 100% shaatnez unknowingly if they are not aware of the issue and on the alert.

So I suppose the logic is that until techelet becomes very widespread or even prevalent, we look at the big picture and take extra measures to keep people out of trouble.

If I’m not mistaken, rabbanim might be amenable to a linen garment under certain circumstances, such as someone who is allergic to cotton and wool, but not to linen. We wrote a bit more on the topic here.

Yehuda Kelemer, former Rabbi of the Young Israel of Brookline, Massachusetts, shared the following account with Rabbi Aryeh Frimer and Rabbi Dov Frimer, who published it in Tradition (“Women’s Prayer Services – Theory and Practice I” 32:2 Winter 1998, p. 41). 

During the mid-1970s, one of the women congregants in the Young Israel of Brookline headed by R. Kelemer wanted to wear a tallit with tzitzit during the prayer services. After R. Kelemer had expressed to her his hesitations about the matter, she approached R. Joseph Soloveitchik, who lived in Brookline, to discuss the matter. 

Rabbi Soloveitchik explained that in light of the novelty of the action, it should be adopted gradually. He suggested that she first try wearing a tallit without tzitzit (which is, of course, permitted for women) and asked her to return to him after three months, at which time they would address the matter further. This approach seems to be in line with a responsum written by Rabbi Moshe Feinstein around the same time period.

When the two met once again, she described to R. Soloveitchik the elevated religious experience she had wearing the tallit. Rabbi Soloveitchik pointed out to the woman that wearing a tallit without tzitzit lacked any halachically authentic element of a mitzvah. It was obvious, therefore, that what generated her sense of “religious high” was not enhanced mitzvah fulfillment, but something else. Under such circumstances, he held, wearing a tallit was an inappropriate use of the mitzvah therefore he forbade the woman from wearing a tallit with tzitzit.

One reader who came across this story elsewhere online commented, “Sigh. Once again we are examining Women’s motivation and inspiration. In other words, do they deserve to be able to do something? They have to earn the right in some way.”

In my opinion, although his remark may be valid from a social perspective, he failed to realize that there really is a clear halachic issue involved. The Shulchan Aruch weighs the question, and it all comes down to yehorah. Since this term is hard to translate into English, many people misinterpret the Shulchan Aruch on this point. The idea is that anytime one seeks to fulfill a mitzvah that he or she is not required to do, it becomes problematic based on the principal of yehorah, i.e. we want to avoid the appearance of doing a mitzvah in an ostentatious manner. This applies equally to men in other circumstances (e.g. wearing Rabbenu Tam tefillin). 

There is also a second fascinating account of a similar case. “I was a student at Maimonides during the 1970′s,” wrote a woman by the name of Sarah Jacobs. “In 1974 I began wearing a tallit at my home shul. At the start of the school year in 1975 or 6 the school demanded that all students daven Shacharit at school. I informed members of the administration before the school year began that I would be wearing my tallit.

“I wore my tallit at t’fillot at Maimonides from that point until I graduated in June of 1978. I would assume that if the Rav [Rabbi Soloveitchik] had any objections to my wearing a tallit in his school I would have been told to stop wearing my tallit. In fact, the Rav used to daven at Maimonides when he was in Boston. I have no doubt that he both knew that I wore a tallit and had seen me wearing my tallit during t’fillot.”

Personally, I don’t see how his awareness of Ms. Jacob’s practice is illuminating in any way, since she never asked him for his opinion. Most rabbis avoid challenging practices by individuals they may disagree with, except under extreme circumstances. 

Notably, Ms. Jacobs writes that several of her teachers had reported that Rabbi Soloveitchik’s wife Tonya wore a tallit katan under her clothes (i.e. b’tzina).