by Rabbi Yisrael Rutman

We are used to thinking of a chazan as the educated tenor in the fancy white hat who sings the prayers in the synagogue, especially on the High Holy Days and festivals. Serge Koussevitsky, guys like that.

Actually, the term chazan has a very long history, which initially had nothing at all to do with the cantorial set. In Talmud, it refers to those who are in charge of the running of the synagogue, what we call today the gabbai. The word chazan comes from the root chazah, meaning to see. Chazon means vision, usually of a high order. Thus, the opening verse of Isaiah, is called chazon, a prophetic vision. The person whose job it was to look after the doings in the synagogue, to see that all was in order, was therefore called the chazan, whether he could carry a tune or not.

Just how the usage of the word chazan morphed over the centuries into its present form is not clear. However, I did recently come across an interesting bit of history that suggests the missing link, and it has to do with the evolving definitions of one of the minhagim (customs) of Purim.

On the day of Ta’anit Esther, the fast day before Purim, there is the minhag of machatsit ha-shekel, the giving of the half shekel. Not to be confounded with matanot evionim, the gifts to the poor disseminated on Purim to defray the costs of the festival, this is a separate donation, though it also goes to the needy. Whereas matanot evionim was one of the rabbinical enactments of Purim, and is mentioned in the Megillat Esther itself, there is no mention of machatsit ha-shekel there, or anywhere in the Talmud, either, for that matter. It appears for the first time in the writings of the Rishonim (Tashbatz, Mordechai, et al), the leading halachicists of the Middle Ages. The minhag is to give three half coins of the realm (e.g., half dollars in America, half shekels in Israel, half euros in Europe), as a zecher, a remembrance of the half shekel that was collected in ancient times for the upkeep of the Temple in Jerusalem. (Which is why in some places the money would go to the maintenance of the synagogue, which is itself a mikdash me’at, a kind of Temple in miniature.) Why three? Because of the three times the word trumah appears at the beginning of the Torah portion of the same name, alluding to three donations to the Tabernacle (for construction, sacrifices, and a half shekel for upkeep).

And now we come to the role of the chazanim in the story of the machatsit ha-shekel: In probably the earliest reference in the responsa literature to this minhag, the twelfth century halachist, Rabbi Eliezer Mibiam, took issue with Rabbi Yehudah HaChasid over the latter’s decision to channel these monies to poor families, and not to, that’s right…chazanim. Rabbi Eliezer defended the-then widespread practice of giving the machatsit ha-shekel collections to chazanim—but not just because they sang so beautifully. (No, I can’t tell you when exactly they learned to sing.)

To be sure, for their melodious leading of communal prayer they were, he argued, deserving of monetary compensation. He cited the biblical example of the kohanim, the priests in the Temple. In return for their performance of the Temple services—sacrifices, libations, etc. (thought not the musical part, the Levi’im took care of that)—they were entitled to a long list (24) of priestly gifts, including terumah, redemption of the firstborn, animal tithes, and parts of the sacrificial offerings. In the absence of the Temple in modern times, synagogue services play a substitute role, and the chazan who leads the prayers is akin to the kohein in the Temple. As such, he too is deserving of monetary support.

Furthermore, as it so happened, in many Jewish communities in the Europe of that era, the chazan was much more than a prayer leader. He was also the local rabbi, scholar and teacher; a one-man band, you might say. Economic conditions being what they were, many congregations could not afford to pay the chazanim on a regular basis; but the monies raised and collected on such occasions as Purim were crucial for keeping them on the job. Without it, warned Rabbi Eliezer, Torah would wither and be forgotten among the masses of European Jewry.

In the course of time, the machatsit ha-shekel would be vouchsafed for the poor, and ways would be found to fund the chazanim separately. As for the promotion of Torah education, that, as we all know, has remained a struggle in every generation. But the etymological sidelight which emerges from the responsum is that of a transitional figure, the chazan of many trades, who not only sings, as he does today, but also guides the people in the synagogue, as he did in Talmudic times.

And if I could sing it for you, I would.

Related posts:

1. Chanukah: The Cup Half-Empty or The Cup Half-Full?
2. On The Importance of Attending Synagogue Regularly
3. A Blessing On Your Head
4. The Winograd Scandal
5. The Ambivalence of Exile