תָּנוּ רַבָּנַן: תַּשְׁמִישֵׁי מִצְוָה — נִזְרָקִין. תַּשְׁמִישֵׁי קְדוּשָּׁה — נִגְנָזִין. וְאֵלּוּ הֵן תַּשְׁמִישֵׁי מִצְוָה: סוּכָּה, לוּלָב, שׁוֹפָר, צִיצִית. וְאֵלּוּ הֵן תַּשְׁמִישֵׁי קְדוּשָּׁה: דְּלוֹסְקְמֵי סְפָרִים, תְּפִילִּין וּמְזוּזוֹת, וְתִיק שֶׁל סֵפֶר תּוֹרָה, וְנַרְתִּיק שֶׁל תְּפִילִּין וּרְצוּעוֹתֵיהֶן.
Our rabbis taught: Accessories used in a mitzvah [when worn out] may be thrown away; accessories of holiness are must be placed in a geniza. The following are accessories used in a mitzvah: A sukkah, a lulav, a shofar, tzitzit. The following are accessories of holiness: large sacks for scrolls of Scripture, tefillin and mezuzot, a mantle for a Sefer Torah, and a tefillin bag and tefillin straps.
What is a Geniza (or the Yiddish: Shaimos)?
What do we do with it today?
The Cairo Geniza was first reported on in 1752, but not examined due to a local superstition that claimed disaster would befall anybody who touched the contents. Eventually, in 1896, twin sisters (and scholars) Agnes S Lewis and Margaret D Gibson went to Egypt, and returned with a handful of manuscripts. They gave these to Solomon Schechter, who immediately recognised the significance of what he saw.
Schechter traveled to Egypt, and with help from the Chief Rabbi, he sorted through the contents of the Genizah chamber.
The chamber held nearly 193,000 fragments of writing, many possibly dated to the 900s.
It gives us insight to the lives of every day Jews, their culture, language use, religious lives and how they interacted with their local non-Jewish neighbours as well as other Jewish communities in different countries.
We have fragments from prominent figures in history, such as letters written by Rambam (Maimonides) that detail Halachic advice as well as his personal life, as well as 200 previously unknown poems by Yehuda Halevy, the author of The Kuzari.
Fragments found also show us a history of religious and liturgical practice, as manuscripts show variances in different Tefillot and religious writings. Fragments of the Damascus Document (part of the Dead Sea Scrolls) were also found there.
The Geniza shows proof that Jewish Bankers used double-entry bookkeeping systems and predates similar systems found in Italy.
The Geniza provides insight into how Arabic, Aramaic, Judeo-Aramaic and Hebrew were all used during varying time periods, giving researchers primary sources that show how linguistics have changed over time.
Fragments from the Cairo Geniza are still being studied, catalogued and translated today.
A moving prayer, describing the awe of the Day of Judgement, that is recited on the High Holy Days before Kedusha of Mussaf. According to a tradition cited in Sefer Ohr Zarua, R' Ephraim of Bonn attributed it to an 11th century German sage by the name of R' Amnon of Mainz (Mayence), who composed it after sanctifying G-d's name by rejecting a demand by the local bishop that he convert to Christianity. However, modern scholars believe that it is of much earlier composition, being that fragments of the prayer were found in the Cairo Geniza dating to the 8th Century. Some researchers believe that it was composed by Yannai in the sixth century
A Letter from Rambam:
“A few months after we departed from [the Land of Israel], my father and master died (may the memory of the righteous be a blessing). Letters of condolences arrived from the furthest west and from the land of Edom…yet you disregarded this. Furthermore, I suffered many well-known calamities in Egypt, including sickness, financial loss and the attempt by informers to have me killed.
The worst disaster that struck me of late, worse than anything I had ever experienced from the time I was born until this day, was the demise of that upright man (may the memory of the righteous be a blessing), who drowned in the Indian Ocean while in possession of much money belonging to me, to him and to others, leaving a young daughter and his widow in my care. For about a year from the day the evil tidings reached me I remained prostrate in bed with a severe inflammation, fever and mental confusion, and well nigh perished.
From then until this day, that is about eight years, I have been in a state of disconsolate mourning. How can I be consoled? For he was my son; he grew up upon my knees; he was my brother, my pupil. It was he who did business in the marketplace, earning a livelihood, while I dwelled in security. He had a ready grasp of Talmud and a superb mastery of grammar. My only joy was to see him. “The sun has set on all joy.” [Isa. 24:11.] For he has gone on to eternal life, leaving me dismayed in a foreign land. Whenever I see his handwriting or one of his books my heart is churned inside me and my sorrow is rekindled… And were it not for the Torah, which is my delight, and for scientific matters, which let me forget my sorrow, “I would have perished in my affliction” [Ps. 119:92].
In spite of this, while I complain not of any sage, disciple, friend or acquaintance, I should complain about you above all others. For…all four of us walked together in God’s house… But you did not seek or inquire. I would be justified in not answering your letter…But my affection is drawn up in full and secured. I shall not forget our wandering together in wastelands and forests after the Lord, and therefore I do not ascribe to you sin and transgression. “Love covers up all faults.” [Prov. 10:12]….[The letter goes on a bit more with some kind words from Rambam.]