When reading from a Torah scroll, or when one gets the less-common opportunity to see the scrolls inside a pair of tefillin or a mezuzah case, it is not hard to see the skill and hard work that goes into forming the beautiful letters.
Written entirely by hand, and utilizing a unique and exquisite Hebrew script, each Torah showcases the meticulous labor of the scribe who spent many hours transcribing each word.
But even before the scribe sits down to write the first letter, there is an entire process that takes place. For the Torah, tefillin or mezuzah to be kosher, it must be written on a specially prepared parchment from a kosher animal. It is the same manner these sacred objects have been written from the time of Moses, who received the Torah from G-d A-lmighty over 3,300 years ago. Indeed, if one were to walk into a museum or synagogue that houses a millennia-old Torah or tefillin, they would find that they are strikingly similar to the Torah in his hometown synagogue, or the tefillin he donned that morning. One similarity is the parchment they are both written on.
The hide from the animal undergoes a labor-intensive process before it arrives in the hands of the scribe. Over the course of several months, the hides undergo a lengthy sequence of cleaning, soaking, drying, stretching, scraping and buffing by skilled craftspeople. Every step requires the utmost care and technique passed down through generations. The end result is a flawless parchment surface suitable for permanently housing sacred Hebrew texts.
Yet this vital preliminary work is rarely glimpsed by the public. "Most people are oblivious to the journey the parchment took before the scribes started writing on it," says one veteran parchment maker. "They simply assume it begins as a blank slate."
From sourcing only the highest quality hides to stringently monitoring every chemical solution and environmental condition, the making of parchment is a dedicated craft in its own right.
At the ‘Klaf Back’ parchment factory in the village of Beit Chilkiya, just outside Jerusalem, that journey is on full display.
Founded 40 years ago by Rabbi Tzvi Back, now 74, the factory is one of just a handful in Israel producing parchment for religious purposes. "We have been honored with visits from great Torah sages and Chasidic rebbes, who have hailed our factory as the most meticulous of its kind," Back says with pride.
For parchment production, cow hides are preferred for their thinness and smooth writing surface ideal for ink absorption. The hides are generally imported from the United States or Australia, with a special preference for "shalil" - the delicate skin of a calf found in the womb of a slaughtered cow.
Once the hides arrive at the factory after careful frozen transport, an intricate multi-month process begins to transform the raw materials into pristine parchment pages.
The hides are thoroughly cleaned, then soaked in special solutions to prepare the fibrous material. After months of precise temperature and humidity-controlled drying, the stiff hides are re-moistened and stretched taut from all sides. Another drying phase follows to lock in the new shape and dimensions.
Finally, the parchment undergoes a laborious scraping and buffing process to remove any remaining hair follicles and render the surface silky smooth for the scribes' pens. "It is all done with the specific intent for the sake of the mitzvah of writing a Torah scroll," Back says.
The largest single parchment piece his factory has produced measured over 1.7 meters (5.6 feet) - requiring the exceptionally large hide of an adult cow.
Most of the labor is still done by hand, including the precise mixing of the chemical baths and manually turning large drums that agitate the hides using an ancient gear system.
"We are fortunate that our generation has access to technologies that allow us to elevate the quality and consistency of parchment to new levels," Back notes. "But we must still maintain the reverence and human touch of our ancestors."
PRESERVING SACRED PURPOSE
While parchment has myriad secular and artistic uses, from diplomas to calligraphy, Back is adamant that his factory exists solely for the production of religious items. He recalls turning down an inquiry from the British royal family around 15 years ago to purchase a significant quantity.
"They had no budget constraints, but I politely refused," Back states. "We produce our parchment exclusively for holy purposes, certainly not for uses we cannot verify as spiritually appropriate."
As housing prices and other costs of living have risen dramatically in Israel, so too has the price of parchment - a factor sofers (scribes) must consider but still just a fraction of their chief expense: the sacred labor of inking every letter.
With admiration for his parchment artisans of past generations but confidence in modern quality control techniques, Back marvels at the enduring blend of ancient tradition and ingenuity in his craft.
"Our processes remain true to the authentic ways of our ancestors, with the same natural elements," he says. "But our generation has been blessed with technology and wisdom allowing us to elevate parchment to levels of quality and spiritual beauty far beyond what was possible before."
Translated from Sichat Hashavua
