When Rabbis Make Mistakes (part 2)

Introduction

Part 1 of When Rabbis Make Mistakes was written over two years ago. The post discussed serious mistakes caused by negligence of a rabbi, and the implications for the offender. This post will deal with a completely different aspect of rabbinic mistakes – the question of if and when individuals are halachically bound to follow rulings that turn out to be mistaken.

The main overlap between these posts is the fact that rabbis do make mistakes and that following their rulings blindly does not absolve all personal responsibility (as illustrated in part 1 by the words of R' Zerachia HaLevi, aka the Ba'al Hama'or). However, there certainly are also times when we are bound by rulings that we may not agree with, and here we will try to clarify when this applies.

If they tell you that right is left

Probably the most famous comment of Chazal related to this issue is a derivation from the command "not to veer to the right or the left" from the words of the Sanhedrin.[1] The Sifri, quoted by Rashi, explains that the phrase 'right or left' hints to us that one must listen to the Sanhedrin even if they tell us that right is left or left is right.

However, this is not the complete picture. The Mishna says that an individual who followed a lenient ruling of the Sanhedrin that he knew was erroneous, must bring a sin-offering (where applicable), as he did not genuinely rely on the Sanhedrin.[2] The gemara explains further that as deliberate transgressors do not bring sin-offerings, the Mishna must be discussing a person who knew that the Sanhedrin were wrong but mistakenly believed that he was obligated to follow them even when they were wrong.[3]

The clear premise of the gemara is that the truth is that one who knows that the Sanhedrin are mistaken, must not follow their lenient ruling. The Yerushalmi quotes a Beraisa that derives this principle from the very same verse quoted above, but in an opposite manner to the Sifri - 'right or left' limits the obligation to follow the Sanhedrin to cases where they tell us that 'right is right or left is left.'[4]

A precise reading of the Sifri and the Yerushalmi will show that as far as practical halacha is concerned, there is no contradiction between them. The Sifri explicitly refers to a person to whom it appears that the Sanhedrin's ruling mistakes 'right and left,' whereas the Yerushalmi is discussing the Mishna which deals with a person who knows that Sanhedrin have erred. This reconciliation was already suggested in the sefer Be'er Sheva (R' Yissachar Ber Eilenburg, Eastern Europe 1550-1623) in his commentary on the gemara.[5]

The line between 'knowing' of an error and 'appearing' to a person as an error is not always easy to draw. The human mind can never be 100% sure about anything, and 'knowledge' may really represent over-confidence whereas uncertainty may be a function of a lack of self-assuredness.[6] Part of a person's avoda is introspection in order to ascertain whether one really is, or should be, sure about any convictions.

Due to this difficulty, the Ramban does not accept the distinction between knowledge and 'appearance.' Instead, he writes that although one who thinks/knows that the Sanhedrin have made a mistake must not follow their ruling blindly, he must raise his objection for their consideration. They will discuss with him and potentially retract their position; however, if they are not convinced and decide that he is the mistaken one, he is obligated to follow the rule of the majority and forgo his own beliefs.[7]

Support for the position of the Ramban may be found from the law of the Zaken Mamrei ('rebellious elder', who does not accept the majority rule of the Sanhedrin). The process can start with a dispute in a local beis din, which is subsequently taken to the Sanhedrin for adjudication. A judge who returns home and continues to rule in accordance with his own minority opinion is liable to the death penalty;[8] the same applies if he acts personally in accordance with his own opinion.[9]

The Rambam writes that this applies even if the rebellious ruling is a stringency.[10] The clear implication is that the minority dayan must accept the lenient ruling and act accordingly, with no distinction being made if he 'knows' that the majority are wrong. However, the Chidushei HaRan[11] questions this, as lenient rulings do not obligate a person to action.[12]

Proven Mistakes (Ta'us bidvar Mishna)

The Ramban's solution of discussing any reservations with the Sanhedrin, but accepting their final ruling, is workable under ideal conditions. Even if those responsible for the original ruling are no longer alive, one who disagrees can raise his concerns with the judges of his time, who have the right to overturn earlier rulings based on their own understanding of halacha.[13]

The problem comes when, as in our times, there is no Sanhedrin and no authority to overturn earlier rulings. One who thinks that the Sanhedrin have erred has no-one to turn to, or at least no-one with the authority to uphold the concerns.[14]

There is potentially one exception. Chazal discuss the laws of mistakes made by Jewish courts – in some cases the ruling stands, but the judges may be held personally accountable and charged with paying compensation to the party found guilty in error. However, one category of mistake, called a ta'us bidvar Mishna (lit. error regarding a Mishna), can never stand.[15] This is usually when the mistake can be proven from an explicit, halachically binding text.

This rule also applies when the mistake is proven not from a halachic source, but from secular knowledge. The Mishna tells us of the case of a cow whose uterus was removed. R' Tarfon ruled that this rendered the cow a tereifa and thus ordered it to be fed to dogs; the other sages reversed this ruling based on the testimony of a doctor, that in Egypt it was commonplace to remove uteruses of cows (and this did not cause any fatal injury).[16] The gemara describes R' Tarfon's original ruling as a ta'us bidvar Mishna, and this is one reason why R' Tarfon was exempt from paying compensation.[17]

We have already quoted the explanation of the Ba'al Hama'or, that the exemption from payment is due to the personal responsibility of the one following the ruling. Although the Ramban disagrees with this reasoning, all agree that a ruling based on such a mistake is null and void.[18]

It would therefore make sense to say that as long as there is no longer any dispute regarding the facts, the original ruling may be disregarded without any need for a formal statement from the beis din. This was famously the position of R' Yitzchak Lampronti (1679-1756, Ferrara), who wrote that although the accepted halacha allows the killing of lice on Shabbos because lice 'do not reproduce through a male and a female,' this is now known not to be true and therefore one must be stringent.[19]

While there are many who disagree with R' Lampronti's ruling, this is predominantly based on claims that we should rely on Chazal's understanding of science rather than scientists,[20] or that Chazal themselves did not mean literally that lice do not reproduce.[21] The implication is that were there to have been a clear mistake, all would agree that this could be overturned.

However, R' Moshe Shmuel Glasner (Hungary, 1856 – 1924, Yerushalayim) writes that this is not the case. Affirming that Chazal indeed issued rulings such as permitting the killing of lice on Shabbos based on the imperfect scientific knowledge of their time, he claims that we are nevertheless bound by these rulings.[22] This was also the position of R' Yitzchak Herzog (first Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of the State of Israel).[23]

Rather disappointingly, neither R' Glasner nor R' Herzog explain how their statements square with the principle of ta'us bidvar Mishna.[24] Presumably, they must hold that even a clear mistake must be confirmed by a halachic authority. Although this appears to be a mere technicality, R' Glasner argues that this is necessary in order to prevent a loss of faith in the entire system.

I would counter that at least in a generation where information is readily accessible to all, this attitude is counter-productive. People know when a clear mistake has been made, and we are better off knowing that the system itself incorporates a method for fixing these mistakes in an efficient manner.

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[1] Devarim 17:11. This command has already been discussed extensively here in How does halacha work? and less directly in several other posts.

[2] Horayos 2a. This Mishna follows the view of R' Yehuda that one who does genuinely rely on the Sanhedrin is exempt from bringing an offering. The halacha does not follow this view, but the principle that R' Yehuda's distinction is based on is undisputed.

[3] Ibid. 2b

[4] Yerushalmi Horayos 1:1

[5] A clear contradiction remains regarding the explanation the verse, as it does not seem reasonable to derive opposite meanings from the same word (even on the level of drash). However, the truth is that no more than one of these derivations is necessary. For example, we can read like the Yerushalmi that the verse only speaks of rulings that do not contradict known reality, and we automatically know that one who is not sure of an error is bound by the ruling. It is also quite possible that neither derivation is the real source for the halacha, as neither is explicit or clearly implied from the verse. Rather, the halacha is derived from logic and the words 'right or left' are a mere asmachta (hint or even a form of mnemonic - see Halachic Exegesis).

[6] See Obligations of the mind where we discussed what level of knowledge is required regarding the beliefs the Torah requires us to hold.

[7] Sefer HaMitzvos, Shoresh 1.

[8] Sanhedrin 86b

[9] Ibid. 88b

[10] Hilchos Mamrim 4:1

[11] Written by an unknown author, not Rabbeinu Nissim of Gerona.

[12] Sanhedrin 86b. He concludes that even the Rambam only spoke in a case where the stringency contains a corresponding leniency, but this is difficult to accept.

[13] See Rambam, Hilchos Mamrim 2:1.

[14] In How does halacha work? we explained that the binding nature of the gemara is based on the same principle that obligates following the Sanhedrin, and that until the consensus attained in relation to the gemara is replicated, we must not deviate from its rulings. This situation, being unable to alter laws dating from thousands of years ago in order to fit the needs of the time, is clearly not an ideal, and one of the reasons why the restoration of the Sanhedrin is so critical (see Ubitul Sanhedreya).

In part 6 of Mehalchim bein Ha'Omdim, R' Michael Avraham raises potential ways of mitigating this problem even without a Sanhedrin. However, were it possible to achieve any kind of consensus regarding these controversial ideas, it would likely also be possible to restore the Sanhedrin and thus render these methods unnecessary.

[15] Sanhedrin 33a and other places.

[16] Bechoros 28b

[17] Sanhedrin 33a. See also Shach, Choshen Mishpat 25:9

[18] Rashi writes אין דינו דין לגמרי (the ruling is completely invalid).

[19] Pachad Yitzchak, volume 10, צידה.

[20] The position of R' Yehuda Bril of Mantua, quoted by R' Lampronti there.

[21] See Michtav Me'Eliyahu, volume 4, page 355 footnote 4.

[22] Introduction to Sefer Dor Revi'i on Chulin.

[23] Shu"t Heichal Yitzchak, Orach Chaim siman 29.

[24] Similarly, R' Lampronti does not cite this principle in his support.

Writing Stam

Introduction

The mitzvos that nowadays require the most effort, time and/or money to fulfil even on the basic level, are those involving writing. It usually takes a sofer a few hours to write a mezuza, a few days to write the parshiyos for a pair of tefilin and six months to a year to write a sefer torah (not including the time taken to prepare the parchment, and the batim and straps of the tefilin).

This was not always the case. The gemara tells us that one who finds tefilin in the street may appraise them and wear them himself. Tefilin are considered an easily replaceable item, and if the true owner is discovered it will be simple to buy him a new pair from the sofer. By contrast, sifrei torah are harder to come by and one who finds a lost one must look after it for the owner.[1]

Clearly, this halacha is not relevant based on the way tefilin are bought and kept today. No religious or traditional Jew sees his tefilin as being easily replaceable. This change is a direct result of the fact that today the only items that are handwritten en masse are those with kedusha – the unique amount of work that goes into them leads to the high sale price.

The main purpose of this post is to examine whether the various advances in technology, starting from the first printing presses and continuing to modern printers, could be utilised to make the process more efficient, in the same way that has been done with non-sacred items. If this were possible, it would save a tremendous amount of precious time and resources.[2]

Early Rulings

This question is not a new one. The Taz (R' David Segal, Poland 1586-1667) writes that he has heard people saying that printed sefarim do not have kedusha, as printing is not considered writing. He rules in no uncertain terms that this is wrong, as even engraving is considered writing, and printing is certainly writing and not engraving.[3]

The Magen Avraham (R' Avraham Gombiner, Poland 1637-1683) also seems to agree to this in principle, but argues that printed tefilin and mezuzos are not kosher for a technical reason. Unlike sifrei torah, tefilin and mezuzos must be written in the correct order, a requirement which printing (of his time) could not guarantee to fulfil.[4] He concludes that even sifrei torah should not be printed l'chatchila, but does not provide a rationale for this.[5]

Some poskim of the same period write that printing is not considered writing at all, but again it is hard to find an explanation for this. The Rama miPano (Italy 1548-1620) claims that although printed gitin (divorce documents) are kosher, sifrei torah, tefilin and mezuzos are different. As these items must be written with ink,[6] this ink must also be applied to the paper using classical writing methods.[7] Needless to say, this line of reasoning is not conclusively compelling.

Modern Application

Of course, modern printing methods require fresh evaluation of the issues described above. It would certainly be possible to facilitate printing of tefilin and mezuzos in the correct order.

On the other hand, R' Ovadya Yosef writes that even according to the view of the Taz, that use of the old-style printing press is considered writing, this is only because this method used hand power. Printing powered by electricity is not writing and would be invalid.[8]

R' Ovadya does not bring a proof to his assertion, and this is understandable. The concept of performing any action through an automatic process, fully controlled by humans but using a non-human force, simply did not exist before the development of electronics. It is therefore down to our intuition to decide whether this is considered writing, and while my own intuition says that printing is now the standard method of writing, I cannot prove this.

Pouring Ink

On a conceptual level, assuming that hand power is not required and that therefore old-style impact printing could be used, it is interesting to consider whether non-impact printing (performed by inkjet and laser printers) also counts as writing. As the ink is sprayed on to the page and no writing implement makes contact, this form of printing is a step further away from traditional writing.

There is also a potential source in Chazal to question the validity of this form of printing. The Yerushalmi says that the requirement for gitin to be written precludes pouring ('וכתב' ולא ושפך). The context is the use of an ink that becomes invisible when dry, but can become visible again by pouring ink on it.[9] However, R' Chisdai Kreskas (Spain, 1340-1410) writes that no form of pouring ink can be considered writing, based on the words of the Yerushalmi.[10]

Non-impact printing is essentially pouring ink, so based on the ruling of R' Chisdai Kreskas, one could argue that it is not considered writing. However, I would suggest that this is not necessarily the case. While simply pouring ink is certainly not a normal form of writing, non-impact printing is the method used for producing the majority of paper documents in our time. It is logical to assume that 'writing' can evolve, and that it should not be defined by the norms of 2,000 years ago.[11]

A Compromise?

Even if we accept R' Ovadya's line of thinking, it would be possible to save significant resources by using older printing methods that are powered directly by humans. A typewriter could be designed to be compatible with parchment and kosher ink, and this would only be halachically problematic according to the logic of the Rama miPano quoted above.

The problem is that the position of the Rama miPano seems to have become accepted. Allowing printed or typed stam (the acronym for sifrei torah, tefilin and mezuzos) would require a revolution, only practically possible with the support of a significant number of the leading Torah authorities.[12]

The Price to Pay

The cost of ruling stringently here is not just the financial burden that the religious community have to bear in order to keep the relevant mitzvos. Many families simply cannot afford to pay the high prices for tefilin and mezuzos, and in the effort to save money will buy these items from unreliable sources.

Furthermore, among all the accepted stringencies regarding the writing of Stam, there is one major leniency relied upon by the vast majority of religious Jewish males (at least). Every one of us is obligated to write (or commission the writing of) our own Sefer Torah, a mitzvah that few fulfil literally.[13]

The majority of us must rely either on an exemption due to it being beyond our means,[14] or on a creative idea of the Rosh. The Rosh claims that as the purpose of the mitzvah is to facilitate learning, the mitzvah is nowadays fulfilled by writing Chumashim, Mishnayos, Gemara and commentaries.[15] The acharonim dispute whether the Rosh meant to exempt us from writing personal sifrei torah or just to add further obligations to write more,[16] and we seem to rely on the lenient interpretation.

In my view, it would certainly be better for us to fulfil the mitzvah by printing (or at least typing) Sifrei Torah – maybe one day this will become a reality.

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[1] Bava Metsia 29b

[2] Inevitably, some will counter that the time and effort put into these mitzvos is part of what the Torah wants, and that we should not look to lessen this. In my view, while there is merit to this argument, if it is possible to fulfil these mitzvos more easily, this should certainly be facilitated. This is somewhat akin to the fact that although the poskim strongly encourage baking one's own challa for Shabbos (see Rema, Orach Chaim 242 and Biur Halacha there; see also Or l'Tziyon volume 2, 47:1), no-one suggests forbidding the bakeries from selling challa.

[3] Taz, Yoreh Deah 271:8

[4] At the time, printing typically involved arranging several lines of metal letters into a frame, and then pressing these letters onto the paper.

[5] Magen Avraham 32:57

[6] See Shabbos 103b; Yerushalmi Megila 1:9

[7] Responsa of the Rama miPano, siman 93

[8] Shu"t Yechave Da'as 6:57

[9] Yerushalmi Gitin 2:3

[10] Chidushei Rabbeinu Kreskas, Gitin 9b

[11] See Igros Moshe, Orach Chaim 3:52, where R' Moshe Feinstein uses similar logic to argue that cooking in a microwave is Biblically prohibited on Shabbos. Although he understands that cooking without fire is only a derivative (תולדה) of the primary melacha of cooking, this is only because cooking in the Mishkan was done with fire, and the primary melachos of Shabbos are only those actions done in the Mishkan. See also Mishpetei Uziel, Yoreh Deah siman 78, who agrees that printing is Biblically prohibited on Shabbos as a derivative of writing (he invalidates printed mezuzos, based on the ruling of the Rama miPano).

[12] Even if individual sofrim were willing to go against the grain, without significant demand for printed Stam, it would likely not be profitable. Furthermore, the more 'open-minded' community are almost entirely dependent on Chareidim (or 'Chardalim') for writing Stam, and this has its costs.

[13] Most poskim write that women are exempt from this mitzvah, in the same way that they are exempt from learning Torah and from wearing tefilin. See Minchas Chinuch, mitzvah 613, for a brief discussion.

[14] One should not spend more than a fifth of ones money in order to fulfil any positive mitzvah – see Keusvos 50a and Shulchan Aruch Yoreh Deah 249:1.

[15] Hilchos Sefer Torah siman 1

[16] See Beis Yosef, Yoreh Deah siman 270; Shach there s'if katan 5.

The Shul and its Sanctity

Introduction

Thank G-d communities in Eretz Yisrael are now all able to return to our shuls with no restrictions, safely and legally. Over the past 18 months or so, something that we took for granted for so long has been difficult and at times dangerous and impossible. We must now be appreciative of the ability to daven as normal, and it is appropriate to write about the manner in which our holy places must be treated at all times.[1]

As the laws pertaining to shuls are numerous, I will concentrate on two issues. I will start with a discussion of the overall nature of the sanctity involved, and then move on to analyse the halachos relating to some of the questionable practices that are common in shuls today.

What makes a shul holy?

This might seem like a strange question, as we are used to the notion that nothing could be holier than a place of worship. This is the common understanding in the secular world, as well as within most religions. However, it is actually not so clear-cut that this is the Jewish view. The concept of a shul does not appear in the Torah or even clearly in Tanach, for reasons we shall discuss.

The term קדושה (holiness or sanctity) in halacha usually applies to things that are set aside (מוקדש) for Hashem, such as sacrifices. The word of G-d, found in Torah scrolls or in tefilin and mezuzos, also has inherent sanctity and these objects therefore must be buried when they are no longer usable.

Ramban writes that shuls do not fall into the categories above, and as such do not have any inherent sanctity. There are explicit halachos relating to the sale of a shul building, but following the sale, the building may be used for mundane purposes. If the sale was authorised by the city leaders in the presence of the people of the city, the proceeds of the sale may also be used for non-sacred purposes.[2] This is not the case with inherently sacred objects.[3]

Therefore, Ramban concludes that the respect that we must have for shuls and the related laws stem only from the shul's use in performing a mitzvah (prayer). Other objects used for mitzvos, such as a lulav or a sukka, have a similar status and must not be treated with contempt, but are not sacred.

The Ran rejects this explanation, arguing that if there were no sanctity to a shul, there would also be no restrictions whatsoever on the use of the proceeds of the sale. Rather, as sacred matters (דברים שבקדושה, including parts of our davening such as kedusha and kaddish) are recited in shuls, Chazal assigned them sanctity on a Rabbinic level.[4]

This view, that the status of a shul stems only from Rabbinic decree, is consistent with the lack of Scriptural reference to shuls, as mentioned above. I believe that this 'omission' is for good reason – the Torah prescribes just one, centralised place of worship for us all to focus on. The concept of multiple shuls only became a positive idea once there was no other choice, when we were scattered to the corners of the earth and were no longer able to serve Hashem as one geographically.[5]

The centralised place of worship is of course the Beis HaMikdash (or the Mishkan beforehand). The obligation to treat the Beis HaMikdash with respect, or more precisely, to be in awe of it, is an explicit Biblical command.[6] Chazal tell us that shuls and batei midrash (study halls) are the miniature 'Mikdash' that Hashem promised Yechezkel that the Jews would have in exile.[7]

Based on this concept, R' Eliezer miMetz (Western Europe, 1140-1237) writes that the mitzvah to be in awe of the Mikdash extends to shuls. The related halachos are therefore of Biblical origin, although Chazal defined the boundaries of what is appropriate in each place, according to its level of kedusha.[8]

Before we move on, it is important to note that although the view of R' Eliezer miMetz seems logical, it is certainly not obvious. Although Chazal called the shul a miniature Mikdash, this only appears in aggadic passages and there is no clear indication that this has halachic ramifications. It is presumably for this reason that Ramban and the Ran looked for other explanations for the halachos of shuls.

Eating and Drinking

The gemara quotes a Beraisa which explicitly prohibits eating and drinking in shuls and batei midrash.[9] However, in almost every active shul that I have davened in, consumption of some form of food and drink has been common and virtually unquestioned. We need to analyse the reasons for this discrepancy, and to decide whether the common practice is justified and when.

Two leniencies appear in the continuation of the gemara. One is that these prohibitions do not apply to the Chachamim and their students, as the shul is their house.[10] The Rambam writes that this leniency only applies out of great necessity,[11] although the Tur does not make this stipulation.[12] Either way, it does seem clear that this dispensation only applies to those who spend a significant portion of their time studying in shul, and we need to look for something more extensive.

The other leniency is that shuls in Bavel (Babylon) are built conditionally, i.e. with a stipulation that not all of the prohibitions will apply. The gemara qualifies that it is nevertheless forbidden to use them for mundane purposes such as accounting, but the extent of what is allowed is not explicitly defined.

Tosfos and many other rishonim infer from other cases in the gemara that even in Bavel, shuls may not be used for one's own personal benefit, such as for protection from the elements. They conclude that the stipulation made with these shuls only has effect once the shul falls into disuse. This is also the ruling of the Shulchan Aruch.[13] Thus this leniency too appears to be insufficient.[14]

However, several questions remain. Firstly, we need to try to understand why the Rambam does not mention any halachos regarding shuls built conditionally, even when they are no longer in use. Secondly, why is it that stipulation works only after a shul is defunct? Finally, if shuls can be built with such a stipulation, why would any community limit themselves by building a shul without any conditions?

Tosfos write further that the stipulation only applies to shuls in Chutz La'aretz, as the sanctity of these shuls will anyway terminate when Mashiach comes. Shuls in Eretz Yisrael are consecrated forever, and no conditions can be made. This answers our last two questions – the 'stipulation' is not made by choice, rather exists automatically for shuls in Chutz La'aretz, which can only have temporary sanctity.

The Rambam clearly does not subscribe to this position, as he would certainly have recorded such a major difference between shuls in Eretz Yisrael and Chutz La'aretz if he held of it. I would therefore like to suggest an alternative approach.[15]

I believe that the Rambam omitted the halachos of a 'conditional shul' because there is actually no novelty involved. The Rambam does write that if people start davening in a building (or room) without designating it as a shul, the halachos of a shul do not apply.[16] Communities in Bavel used a logical extension of this, designating shuls on a temporary basis only.[17]

When shuls are built (or existing buildings designated for tefila) with clear intention to be used for non-sacred purposes as well, it could be argued that de facto these 'shuls' do not have the halachos of a shul. Thus it would be permitted to eat and drink in them, without limitation. However, it is crucial to point out that under normal circumstances, communities are obligated to build a fully consecrated shul to daven in.[18] Where possible, it is certainly preferable to daven in a shul that is used for prayer and Torah study alone.[19]

Implementation

Much of the responsibility to maintain appropriate conduct in shul lies with community leaders. However, enforcement of the ideal standard described above will usually not be practical, unless members of the community can see the benefit of having a shul dedicated for sacred matters. This involves efficient running of services, cutting out unnecessary delays and creating a feeling of relevance.[20] Without this, we should not be surprised if shuls become mere community centres, where people come to chat and to read colourful newsletters.

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[1] After starting to write this post, the outbreak of the Delta Variant has cast doubts over how long this return to normal may last. This doubt should serve as a further reminder not to be complacent, and to use our shuls appropriately.

[2] Mishna and gemara, Megila 25b-26a

[3] Chidushei HaRamban, Megila 25b

[4] Ran, Rif Megila 8a

[5] I have written about this concept at length previously, in He has no physical form.

[6] Vayikra 19:30

[7] Yechezkel 11:16; Megila 29a

[8] Sefer Yere'im, siman 409. This explains why despite being part of the same mitzvah, wearing shoes and carrying certain items are forbidden on Har HaBayis but permitted in a shul.

[9] Megila 28a-b

[10] Ibid. Although it is not so clear from the gemara exactly which of the restrictions are relaxed for Chachamim, from the words of the rishonim it is clear that the leniency applies at least to eating and drinking.

[11] Hilchos Tefila 11:6. The acharonim discuss where the Rambam may have learnt this from, but I have not found any convincing answer.

[12] Orach Chaim 151. The Rashba differentiates between shuls and batei midrash in this regard, writing that in the beit midrash, talmidim are allowed to eat and drink even without great need (nowadays many shuls function as batei midrash outside of davening times, and this leniency would therefore apply).

[13] Orach Chaim 151:11

[14] R' Moshe Feinstein writes that we are forced to say that the prevalent custom is according to the dissenting view of Rashi and the Or Zarua, that stipulation allows use of functioning shuls for non-sacred purposes (Igros Moshe, Orach Chaim 1:45).

[15] The Magen Avraham (151:12) writes that the Rambam's position is that this leniency only applied historically to shuls in Bavel and is not relevant today. This is difficult however, as there does not appear to be any reason why such a stipulation could not be made today as well, and the Rambam should have mentioned this.

[16] Hilchos Tefila 11:21. This point is undisputed.

[17] The Mishna Berura (Biur Halacha 151:11 ד"ה להשתמש בו) writes that such a stipulation prevents any kedusha taking effect on the shul, even on a temporary basis. However, I believe that the Rambam would disagree.

[18] See Rambam, Hilchos Tefila 11:1. This point was already made in Corona Observations.

[19] See Igros Moshe, Orach Chaim 2:44, where R' Moshe Feinstein writes along similar lines. However, his position is that unless it is explicitly stipulated that there will be no kedusha, a building designated for davening does have the halachos of a shul. Stipulation to allow eating and drinking is invalid (according to Tosfos and the Shulchan Aruch), as this conflicts with halacha (מתנה על מה שכתוב בתורה, or מתנה על דברי חכמים). I would argue that while this may have been true historically, now that eating and drinking in shuls has become so common, there is no requirement for an explicit stipulation. It is understood that there is no intention to imbue sanctity on the shul, at least not the halachic sanctity of which Chazal spoke.

[20] See The Text of Tefila regarding possible modifications to our tefila.