“”הוי גולה למקום תורה
“Exile Yourself to a Place of Torah:”
Visions of Education and Identity in the Babylonian Talmud
JESSE ELLIS PAIKIN
Thesis Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of Requirements for Ordination
Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion
Graduate Rabbinical Program
New York, New York
29 January 2018
13 Sh’vat 5778
Advisor: Rabbi Aaron D. Panken, Ph.D.
: אמר ריב"לRabbi Yehoshua ben Levi says:
“Anyone who teaches their
grandchild Torah, it is as if they
. מעלה עליו הכתוב כאילו קבלה מהר סיניreceived it directly from Sinai.”
כל המלמד את בן בנו תורה
Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 30a
In honour of and gratitude for my Bubbie, Rachel Paikin, a מעין המתגבר, an overflowing
fountain of wisdom, who through her love, curiosity, humility, and humour continues to
teach me how to be wise in the world.
And in memory of my Zaida, Bubby, and Zaidy….
Wolfe Paikin (1911-2000)
A mensch, who cultivated within me a love of חידושים, new things in life
Jeanne Cahan (1925-2011)
Who imbued within me תורה של חסד, the Torah of kindness
Jack Cahan (1923-2015)
Whose wisdom will always lead me toward מעשים טובים, acts of goodness
יהא זכרם ברוך
May their memories be for a blessing
CONTENTS
NOTES ON TEXTS, TRANSLATIONS, AND ABBREVIATIONS
iv
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
v
PART I: THE URGENCY OF LEARNING
INTRODUCTION
2
HOW HAVE I APPROACHED THIS WORK?
12
WHAT OTHERS HAVE LEARNED
16
CHAPTER 1
FROM TELLING TO TEACHING
19
CHAPTER 2
JOSEPH SCHWAB AND THE FOUR COMMONPLACES
25
PART II: THE FOUR COMMONPLACES
CHAPTER 3
“”משיחי ובנביאי
“ANOINTED ONES AND PROPHETS:”
STUDENTS AND SCHOLARS
38
CHAPTER 4
“”כולהו גופי דרופתקי נינהו
“ALL HUMAN BEINGS ARE LETTER CARRIERS FOR GOD:”
A CASE STUDY ON THE STUDENT IDENTITY (SANHEDRIN 99A-101A)
53
CHAPTER 5
“”כאילו עשאן לדברי תורה
“LIKE FASHIONING WORDS OF TORAH:”
TEACHERS
97
CHAPTER 6
“”רבו שלמדו חכמה
“HIS TEACHER WHO TAUGHT HIM WISDOM:”
A CASE STUDY ON TEACHERS (BAVA METZI’A 33A-B)
109
CHAPTER 7
“”אורחות חיים
“THE PATHS OF LIFE:”
THE SUBJECT MATTER
144
CHAPTER 8
“ נטיעה, מסמרות נטועים,”דרבונות
“GOADS, WELL-FASTENED NAILS, AND PLANTS:”
A CASE STUDY ON SUBJECT MATTER (HAGIGAH 3a-b)
164
CHAPTER 9
“”בכל מקום מותר להרהר בדברי תורה
“ONE CAN MEDITATE ON TORAH EVERYWHERE:”
THE LEARNING MILIEU
185
CHAPTER 10
“”גולה למקום תורה
“EXILE YOURSELF TO A PLACE OF TORAH:”
A CASE STUDY ON THE LEARNING MILIEU (SHABBAT 147B)
195
PART III: TRANSCENDENT LEARNING
CONCLUSION
BIBLIOGRAPHY
215
228
iv
NOTES ON TEXTS, TRANSLATIONS, AND ABBREVIATIONS
I have used the standard Vilna edition of the Babylonian Talmud for all sources.
Translations of the Babylonian Talmud from Hebrew and Aramaic are mine or adapted
from the English translation found in The Koren Talmud Bavli, Noé Edition.
Square brackets in English translations indicate words outside of the literal translation
which are needed to help clarify idiomatic meaning. Parentheses in English translations
add additional contextual information where needed.
A note on the gendered language of the Bavli and Tanakh: These texts reflect a
historically male authorship and readership. Where appropriate and where it does not
radically alter the meaning of the text, I do my best to translate with a gender-neutral
orientation. In some instances, this is not possible, and in others, I explicitly choose to
keep the gendered translation if it evokes the specific meaning of the text.
Biblical verses are quoted from the New Jewish Publication Society translation,
sometimes with edits to clarify the rabbinic reading of these verses.
Biblical and rabbinic references appear in abbreviated form according to the SBL
Handbook of Style:
b
b.
m
ms
R’
t
y
Bavli (Babylonian Talmud)
ben/bar (son of)
Mishnah
Manuscript
Rabbi
Tosefta
Yerushalmi (Jerusalem/Palestinian Talmud)
AZ
B. Bat.
B. Metz.
B. Qam.
Bekh.
Ber.
Beitz.
Eruv.
Git.
Hag.
Hor.
Ker.
Ket.
Mak.
Meg.
Men.
Mo’ed Qat.
Avodah Zarah
Bava Batra
Bava Metzi’a
Bava Kamma
Bekhorot
Berakhot
Beitzah
Eruvin
Gittin
Hagigah
Horayot
Keritot
Ketubot
Makkot
Megillah
Menachot
Moed Katan
Naz.
Ned.
Nid.
Pes.
Kid.
Rosh.
Shab.
Sanh.
Shev.
Sot.
Suk.
Ta’an.
Tamid
Tem.
Yev.
Yoma
Zev.
Nazir
Nedarim
Niddah
Pesachim
Kiddushin
Rosh Hashanah
Shabbat
Sanhedrin
Shevuot
Sotah
Sukkah
Ta’anit
Tamid
Temurah
Yevamot
Yoma
Zevachim
v
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
In the summer after I finished Grade 1, I received a postcard in the mail. It had a
horse on one side, and on the back, a hand-written note from my teacher, Shelley. She let
me know that she wouldn’t be returning to teach at that school again in the fall, but
wanted to fill me in on what she was doing, and asked how I was spending my summer. I
wrote back to her, and thus began what amounted to over a decade of pen-pal letter
writing.
From a very early age, I have been blessed to be able to learn from some
spectacular teachers in both Jewish and secular spaces. Like any adolescent, there were
teachers with whom I didn’t get along, and I am certain that I did my fair part in
infuriating some (many?). But for the most part, I always had a sense that teachers were
not just professionals of some sort, or disciplinarians, but caring role models and
fountains of wisdom. Mr. Bahl, my High School “Modern Western Civilizations”
teacher, would often adjure our class to realize that if we had access to the fountain of
wisdom, we’d better do more than just take a sip. Sixteen years later, his own wisdom
still echoes in my ears.
Parker Palmer, in The Courage to Teach, shares that the power of teachers and
mentors is “in their capacity to awaken a truth within us, a truth we can reclaim years
later by recalling their impact on our lives.” It is with deep appreciation and joy that I
offer thanks here to those who have had an indelible impact on my ability to write this
thesis, and whose wisdom, no doubt, I will be recalling for years to come.
TO MY EARLIEST TEACHERS OF JEWISH WISDOM, Rabbi Nancy Wechsler and Rabbi
Daniel Gottlieb, I will be forever grateful for your love, generosity, and willingness to
reach out to a rambunctious child who had a deep desire to grow Jewishly. And to those
who have accompanied me on my journey to become a better educator, and a better
human being, in particular Rabbi David Wilfond, Rabbi David Kasher, Rabbi Rex
Perlmeter, and Jeremy Leigh.
vi
TO MY TEACHERS OF TALMUD: I have a deep appreciation for the love, joy, and
intensity of immersing myself in the sea of Talmud, that I received from my teachers at
HUC-JIR: Dr. Alyssa Gray, and Dr. Michael Pitkowsky, and from my teachers at
Yeshivat Hadar: Rav Elie Kaunfer, Rav Jason Rubenstein, Rav Shai Held, Rav Ethan
Tucker, Rav Shmuel Lewis, Dena Weiss, and Rav David (Dudi) Goshen. The wisdom
emanating from these sacred places will echo through generations to come.
TO MY THESIS ADVISOR, RABBI AARON PANKEN, who has taught me, among other
things, to be careful about overstating what the Talmud is trying to say, the importance of
not biting off more than I can chew (something my parents and teachers have been trying,
mostly unsuccessfully, to get me to do since I was three years old), and the proper
placement of a colon before quotation marks. I owe you an immense debt of gratitude for
your time and care. It has been a true delight thinking about this material with you.
TO MY FAMILY: My parents, Karen and Auby Paikin, my sister Emily PaikinWeiss and brother-in-law Brett Weiss, my Bubbie Rachel Paikin: you are an endless
supply of love, thoughtfulness, laughter, and support. Nothing I do in life is possible
without you.
AND TO MY PARTNER, STEPHANIE: You are the second half of my puzzle, a
constant source of inspiration for me to reach higher, a much-needed source of hilarity,
and a brilliant teacher who is about to become a brilliant rabbi. For our endless late-night
conversations about this thesis and everything else under the sun, for your ability to see
both the simple and the complex, and for your deep pool of wisdom, I am ever grateful.
It has been humbling to immerse myself in Talmudic texts which, among other
things, emphasize the importance of studying for its own sake, and not in order to achieve
a title… all while I am doing exactly that – studying to become a rabbi. This thesis has
been not just an academic endeavour, but a spiritual journey as I inch closer and closer to
becoming a rabbi. Having spent the better part of a year soaking up the profound wisdom
within these texts, I am convinced more than ever that their transcendent worth is waiting
for us, just beneath the surface. All we need to do is dive in.
PART I
THE URGENCY OF LEARNING
2
INTRODUCTION
3
A stunning portrait of Jewish education during the geonic period1 is painted by
Menachem Meiri, the late-thirteenth, early-fourteenth century Provençal Talmudist, in his
seminal work, Beit HaBechirah:
The yeshivot were great and honoured, and the students were numerous. Torah
was their craft – and how much more so [was this the case with] the heads of
the great and respected academies and those ordained into the Gaonate, who
were not accustomed to leave the tent [of Torah] day or night. And they knew
the entire Talmud by heart, or close to it. And the words of all of Torah and
Talmud were arranged in their mouths as [it is for us] the passage of Shema.2
This is an astounding portrayal of classical Jewish education, particularly in its reverence
toward the heads of the academies – scholars who spent day and night immersed in
Torah, with a verbatim or near-verbatim memorization of Torah and Talmud (in order!),
able to recall passages as easily as one recites the six words of the Shema, without the
need to consult guides or conduct keyword searches as most do today.
“Thank God I met Rabbi Google,” proclaimed Rabbi Gabriel Negrin, Chief Rabbi
of Greece in 2014, just prior to his appointment to the position. Presumably he shared
these words tongue-in-cheek, in gratitude for the relative ease with which he was able to
find sources of deeper Jewish knowledge on his quest to become a rabbi.3 Humour aside,
1
The term Gaon (plural: geonim), an honorific meaning “pride,” or “excellency,” or in
modern Hebrew, “genius,” refers to the heads of the two great Babylonian Talmud
Academies in Sura and Pumbedita. The word is likely a shortened form of the phrase
“Rosh Yeshivat Gaon Ya’akov,” (Head of the Academy, Pride of Jacob). The Geonim
functioned as rabbinic judges, administrators, legislators, and advisors. The terms geonic
and geonate refer to the coterminous period of rabbinic activity, generally dated circa
mid-6th to mid-11th centuries, CE. Exact dating is difficult, as the Geonim themselves
created different chronologies of their work. The geonic period is conventionally
understood to end in 1038 CE with the death of R’ Hai Gaon.
2
Menachem HaMeiri, Bet ha-Behirah ‘al Massekhet Avot [Hebrew] (ed. Binyamin
Perag, Jerusalem, 1964), 52.
3
Suzanne Selengut, “Breathing New Life Into Greece’s Small But Historic Jewish
Community.” No pages. [24 April 2014]. Online: http://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-lifeand-religion/168310/new-greek-chief-rabbi.
4
when held up against the former depiction of rabbinic learning, they illustrate a
significant chasm in approach to answering the question: how is Jewish learning done?
This should not be surprising, as roughly fourteen hundred years span between the
Gaonate, Menachem Meiri, and Gabriel Negrin. This gulf is immense not only in time,
but in underlying philosophy. The Meiri’s retelling of the halcyon days of Talmudic
learning is likely idealized, but it does prompt a question for the contemporary Jewish
teacher and student: while access to sources of Jewish wisdom has never been easier or
more plentiful, is learning with “Rabbi” Google the kind of learning the rabbis of our
classical texts envisioned? How might this kind of learning4 reflect or push back against
models presented in our texts? Put another way, we are trying to uncover what it is that
makes Jewish learning “Jewish.”
Moshe Idel has argued that in traditional Jewish learning, the text being studied and
the way it is studied fuse together into what he calls a “sonorous community” or “sound
community:”
The text is activated by being sounded out orally, loudly vocalized, or sung. In
part, this practice rests on the view that language mediates the experience of
God, and so words become forms of power. Singing and sounding out the holy
texts also creates an external reality bringing together all who study (just as
God creates in the Bible by “calling” – keri’ah – not by fiat). Jewish learning…
is entering an ambience as much as it is an acquiring of knowledge.5
A well-known illustration of the place of education in the rabbinic mind is the
ma’aseh6 of the potential convert who approaches Rabbi Hillel with a request to learn the
entirety of the Torah while standing on one foot. Hillel’s response includes perhaps one
4
Often a solo endeavour of searching the internet.
Susan Handelman, Make Yourself a Teacher (Seattle: University of Washington, 2011), 5.
6
A practical “incident” or a “case” upon which a halakhic principle is derived.
5
5
of the most famous rabbinic aphorisms: “ זיל גמור/ go learn.”7 The statement itself
prompts further inquiry: When it is time to “go learn,” to whom do we turn for
instruction? With whom do we learn? Where do we learn? And of course, what is it that
we are meant to learn? Tantalizingly, the Bavli does not provide us with an immediate
answer.
Where do we turn to find an answer? If we begin with Torah, searching for words
associated with the root – למדconnoting both the acts of teaching and of learning – yields
only sixteen instances, and exclusively in the book of Deuteronomy.8 While the Torah
famously commands the act of teaching “these words… to your children / ושננתם לבניך,”9
this act is only incumbent upon parents to teach their children. Israel Jacob Yuval argues
that this text refers simply to “functional study: a person needs to learn the Torah in order
to know how to fulfill it; he needs to teach his sons in order to transmit to them the
necessary knowledge.”10 Indeed, it does not present a pedagogy, comment on the
philosophical importance of learning, or legislate a formal system of education.11 Just a
few verses later, the Torah sharpens this thought:
ועתה כתבו לכם את־השירה הזאת ולמדה את־בני־ישראל שימה בפיהם למען תהיה־לי השירה
הזאת לעד בבני ישראל׃
7
bShab. 31a
Deut. 4:1, 4:5, 4:10, 4:14, 5:1, 5:28, 6:1, 11:19, 14:23, 17:19, 18:9, 20:18, 31:12, 31:13,
31:19, 31:22
9
Deut. 6:7
10
Israel Jacob Yuval, “The Orality of Jewish Oral Law: from Pedagogy to Ideology,” in
Judaism, Christianity, and Islam in the Course of History: Exchange and Conflicts
(Schriften Des Historischen Kollegs 82, Berlin: De Gruyter Oldenbourg, 2010), 244.
11
bB. Metz. 33a in fact presents a student’s responsibility to their parent and teacher in
oppositional terms, in some instances favouring the teacher. See pg. 110-112 for more.
8
6
Therefore, write down this poem and teach it to the people of Israel; put it in
their mouths, in order that this poem may be My witness against the people of
Israel.12
Here, the act of teaching is limited to the Torah itself – a sort of self-replicating act
designed to reinforce the supremacy of God and God’s relationship with Israel. Indeed,
the Torah does not go into any significant detail as to what this education entails, aside
from committing to fostering the oral memory of a particular text. Writers Amos Oz and
Fania Oz Salzberger interrogate this lacuna:
Who were our first Teacher and Pupil? Jewish tradition positions Moses as the
teacher of all teachers; but neither Aaron nor Joshua, later tagged as Moses’
students, behaves like a student. Nor do they become great teachers…13
Teacher and student, Oz and Oz-Salzberger remind us, are constant figures in Jewish
literature up to modern times. But where does Judaism derive its rightful status as a
scholarly tradition? To answer this question, we must turn to rabbinic literature in
general, and the Talmud in particular.
In contrast to the paucity of material in the Torah, the Talmud’s valorizing of
education is breathtaking. Every single masekhet of the Bavli – above and beyond merely
presenting conversations between teachers and students – discusses learning and
teaching. Every single masekhet has something to say about the interwoven enterprises of
teaching and learning.14
12
Deut. 31:19
Amos Oz and Fania Oz-Salzberger, Jews and Words (New Haven: Yale University,
2012), 9.
14
Discussion are located heavily within in sedarim Zeraim, Mo’ed, Nashim, and Nezikin,
with significantly fewer passages in Kedoshim and Toharot. This distribution perhaps
reflects that the Talmudic view of education is primarily associated with the activities of
daily living – both religious and civil – the foci of these sedarim.
13
7
The Talmud, beyond its status as the ultimate source of an immense corpus of
Jewish thought and practice, is valuable for how the document itself models a way of
learning. Yes, the term “Talmud” refers to the vast text itself, says Jon Levisohn, but it
also refers to a field of study, as well as a process. “Learning to read Talmud is surely
about learning to read a text,” he reminds, “but it is also, at the same time, learning to
engage in a particular discipline.”15 Likewise, Susan Handelman notes that Talmud is “a
live, generative teaching, a meeting between teachers and students; it is not only or
primarily a ‘text’ sitting on a page... [it is] a mode of learning, one which also involves
the deeply personal relation between teacher and student, colleague and colleague.”16
Examining what the Bavli has to say about education is not merely an
academic/critical historical inquiry, nor one which conversely desires to bolster a
theologically orthodox approach to Jewish learning.17 Rather, it serves a practical
purpose, prompting us to consider: when we talk about Jewish education in the twentyfirst century, what are we talking about?
Professor of Education, Peter M. Appelbaum, presents a typical scenario that
helps clarify why asking these questions are crucial:
We are on the education committee for a Jewish Sunday school rewriting the
goals and objectives for grades K-9. One of us notes that all of our models for
Jewish education originate in secular educational theory. We have taken on
over the years the latest in educational theory in order to rid ourselves of the
worst of American Jewish education, so often “bad pedagogy” promulgated by
people whose sole qualifications were that they knew Hebrew. Now we are
modern and use modern methods. But what happened to the idea of a “Jewish”
15
Jon A. Levisohn. “What We Have Learned about Learning to Read Talmud,” in
Learning to Read Talmud: What It Looks Like and How It Happens (ed. Marjorie
Lehman and Jane Kanarek; Brighton: Academic Studies, 2016), 203-218. 204
16
Handelman, Make Yourself a Teacher, 5.
17
See Chapter 1.
8
education? What would be a genuinely Jewish educational encounter?18
Understanding what the Talmud says about Jewish education provides an opportunity to
examine what would be a genuinely Jewish educational encounter. Professor Alan Block
argues that this is particularly necessary, not only given potential deficiencies in North
American Jewish education, but also because non-Jewish pedagogies might clash with
the Jewish ethos:
We live in a culture organized through the eyes of Greco-Roman and Christian
culture [and] Jewish educational practice has attempted to assimilate into [that]
culture… The basis of the traditional Western view of education as the
appropriate training of intellect resides in [the] Socratic position and rests on
the assumption that knowledge is timeless and universal… But the opening
words of Genesis suggest that only God – not truth – is eternal and
omniscient.19
If the very nature of knowledge and truth is approached differently in Judaism than in
surrounding Western thought, what implications does and should this have on how we
educate Jewishly? Block’s argument is that we should develop Jewish pedagogies with an
attunement to the nature of Jewish thought. This awareness mirrors an astute one
proposed by Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. While Jewish thought has rarely existed
within a vacuum, most always responding to its surrounding cultures, Heschel notes that
the major premises of Jewish and of Greco-Roman thought represent two distinct ways of
thinking: “Israel and Greece not only developed divergent doctrines; they operated within
different categories.”20
18
Peter Appelbaum, “Afterword,” in Alan. A Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the
Practical: Joseph Schwab and the Rabbis (New York: Peter Lang, 2004), 209-220.
19
Alan. A Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical: Joseph Schwab and the Rabbis
(New York: Peter Lang, 2004), 7, 25.
20
Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism (New
York: Farrar, Strauss and Giroux, 1976), 14.
9
Enter the Talmud, whose form and content present a uniquely Jewish approach to
the quest for knowledge and truth. “The Bavli,” writes David Kraemer, “makes the
imperfect and imperceptible pursuit of truth the very centre of its enterprise. It concerns
itself and its student with multiple interpretations of scripture, with multiple opinions in
the law, that is, with multiple approaches (but only approaches) to the truth.”21
Having grasped the centrality and significance of the Talmud, it must also be
stated that succinctly answering the question: “what does the Bavli say about Jewish
education?” is not a straightforward matter. A desire to formulate a comprehensive
description of any philosophy of the Talmud, argues Hyam Maccoby, implies “too ready
an acceptance of the view that the Talmud can be regarded as a unitary literature.”22
Because the Talmud weaves together divergent strands of teachings and often contradicts
itself, we find a wide breadth of rabbinic ideas on education – some expansive and liberal
in scope, others limiting and conservative. This lack of a unified Talmudic pedagogy
must be reinforced as a warning before delving into this material. Levisohn cautions:
The Talmud is not a stable object that is just sitting and waiting for our
attention. A book is not a curriculum, nor a subject or discipline. Once we
undertake the effort to “curricularize” the Talmud, we operate from within a
set of implicit or explicit commitments about our pedagogic purposes (or else
we operate from within a set of unconscious or hidden assumptions about
purposes). Those purposes then serve as criteria of selection, not just for
appropriate teaching practices but for the material itself, the supposedly stable
object of study.23
To be sure, the goal of this work is not to draw out from the Talmud a unified pedagogy –
for no such idea exists – but rather, to gather some of the Talmud’s most lucid, consistent
21
David Kraemer, The Mind of the Talmud (New York: Oxford University, 1990), 189.
Hyam Maccoby, The Philosophy of the Talmud (New York: Routledge, 2002), ix.
23
Levisohn, “What We Have Learned about Learning to Read Talmud,” 207.
22
10
ideas about education, and to see what we might infer when holding them up together in
conversation with one another.
To help frame this analysis, we turn to the influential twentieth century
pedagogist Joseph Schwab (1909-1988), who, among his key contribution to the field of
education, formed a framework for determining what elements should be involved in
curriculum development. Education, for Schwab, is not “an endless collection of
objectives.”24 It is not a matter of simply filling one’s head with knowledge. Criticizing
the state of education in the 1980s in the United States, he wrote:
Teaching… is largely “telling,” written or oral, with little thoughtful attention
to argument and evidence; even less concern with alternatives and their
different strengths and weaknesses; still less with consideration by students of
what is yet to be known and how it might be sought through enquiry.25
A reader of Talmud cannot but help see the Bavli as an antidote to this critique. It
revolves around the introduction of evidence-based argumentation, presentation of
multiple alternatives, and the near-constant evaluation of strengths and weaknesses. It
prioritizes analysis and innovation, says Moulie Vidas, over memorization and
transmission.26
While Schwab himself was Jewish and worked with Jewish educational
institutions,27 he is not known for promoting a specifically Jewish pedagogy, nor did he
24
Joseph J. Schwab, “The Practical 4: Something for Curriculum Professors To Do,” in
Curriculum Inquiry (Toronto: Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, 1983), 239-265.
25
Joseph J. Schwab, “The Practical 4,” 249.
26
Moulie Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud (Princeton: Princeton
University, 2014), 115.
27
Schwab once addressed a 1973 conference entitled, “Applying Jewish Scholarship to
Contemporary Programs of Education,” hosted by the Melton Research Center for Jewish
Education of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America and the Jewish Studies
Program at The Ohio State University. He also played a role in developing the
11
write about the place of Talmudic thinking in secular education. Rather, he was an astute
and persistent critic of the American educational system, advocating systemic reforms
attuned to balancing the needs of four constituencies: the student, the teacher, the subject
matter, and the learning milieu. Schwab dubbed these his “four commonplaces,” and
insisted that any curriculum with integrity must be developed with an equal attention to
these four areas.28
The Talmud itself is a meeting-place of Schwab’s four commonplaces: in sugya29
after sugya, teacher, student, and subject meet together in places of learning, and jump off
the page into the reader’s own mind. In Chapter 2, we will explore Schwab’s pedagogy,
what each of these commonplaces entails, and how the Talmud might be charted with
them in mind. I do not suggest that the Bavli itself fully represents a Schwabian
pedagogy, nor that Schwab developed his own philosophy with the Talmud in mind,30
rather that Schwab’s four commonplaces supply a germane paradigm for analyzing what
the Bavli has to say about education.
educational program for the Conservative Movement’s Ramah Camping Movement.
(Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 48-50).
28
Schwab, “The Practical 4,” 241.
29
A sugya / סוגיא, meaning “study,” “lesson,” or “subject,” is a distinct unit of focus
within the Talmud.
30
This is the argument of Alan A. Block in his text Talmud, Curriculum, and the
Practical: Joseph Schwab and the Rabbis. His research into Schwab’s pedagogies will be
referenced in my work, though an analysis of his own thesis is not within the scope of
this paper. See also David Stein, “Curriculum, Crisis, and Change: Towards a Talmud
Curriculum Grounded in Educational Theory.” No pages. [12 January 2017]. Online:
http://www.thelehrhaus.com/scholarship/curriculum-crisis-and-change-towards-a-talmudcurriculum-grounded-in-educational-theory.
12
HOW HAVE I APPROACHED THIS WORK?
When the Bavli speaks of learning, teaching, and studying, to what acts and
content is it referring? To uncover these answers, I began with keyword searches for
terms that would be expected to appear in any discussion on education: ( תורהTorah –
both the proper name of the text itself, and the term for learning in general), ( למדthe root
connoting learning, studying, and teaching, and the source of the very word Talmud, דרש
(expound/interpret – a common term used to introduce a rabbinic interpretation of a
source), ( חכםwise – along with תלמיד, a term frequently used to refer to students of
Torah). Unsurprisingly, searching for these and other common terms yielded a staggering
amount of material: the word תורהappears over four thousand times throughout the
Talmud. Permutations of the words דרשand למדappear over thirteen hundred times each.
The term תלמיד חכם, over two-hundred. As not every instance of the words תלמדor תורהis
necessarily occupied with a discussion on learning, I also directed my attention to those
gemaras where more precise, technical terminology appear, words and phrases such as:
( מתיבתאyeshiva), יושב ודרוש/ ( דיתיב וקא דרישsitting and interpreting), טרדו מגירסייהו
(interrupted his studies), or ( פוק תני לבראgo learn it outside). Because of the interwoven
nature of the Talmud, searching for texts by keyword frequently yielded parallel texts that
either repeat verbatim, or make use of common source material. Where appropriate, these
will be indicated.
The Talmudic index ( המפתחHaMafteach / “The Key”)31 was immensely helpful
in searching for texts by topic, as were the searchable compendia at the Bar Ilan
31
Daniel Retter, ed., HaMafteach: Talmud Bavli Indexed Reference Guide (Jerusalem:
Koren, 2014).
13
Responsa Project and Sefaria. Consulting an annotated edition of Maimonides’ Mishneh
Torah: Hilkhot Talmud Torah (Laws of Torah Study) also provided a good overview of
relevant sources. The secondary sources referenced throughout this work also pointed to
discussions on education in the Bavli. In particular, David Goodblatt’s monumental work,
Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian Babylonia32 was helpful in its highly technical analysis
of how terminology is used in the Bavli and how rabbinic academic institutions in
Sasanian Babylonia functioned.
Together, this querying produced a large library of over two hundred fifty
instances spread out over more than three hundred dapim throughout the Bavli, where the
topic of education is introduced in relationship to one or more of Schwab’s four
commonplaces. By way of comparison, the Talmud in its standard Vilna printing is 2,711
dapim.33 This is by no means an exhaustive list, though I am confident that it is
representative of the most topically contiguous instances where education is discussed,
that is, those places where the Bavli engages in a sustained discourse on the role of
teachers, students, subject matter, or learning environment.
The breadth and depth of this library precludes an analysis of each and every one
of these gemaras. Thus, it has been crucial to determine what is in and what is out, when
viewed through the four commonplaces. As noted, the Talmudic understanding of
education is not pre-packaged for us with a clear definition. Not only are there different
32
David M. Goodblatt, Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian Babylonia (Leiden: E.J. Brill,
1975).
33
The topic of education thus appears to one degree or another on over 10% of the
Bavli’s pages. That itself is larger than some of the individual masekhtot. One wonders
why there is no Masekhet Hinukh, or Masekhet Lomdut (Tractate Education, or Tractate
Studying).
14
conceptions of who is a teacher or who is a student, these are presented to us in different
ways: sometimes through explicit statements, other times through richly painted aggadot
that provide us a picture of teacher-student relationships, at other times through
unresolved debates.
In many ways, the Talmud itself has guided the decision-making process. For the
purposes of the case studies and in-depth text analysis in this work, I have avoided
concentrating on material that is more technical in nature (for example, those sugyas that
focus on a precise delineation of study materials, or physical arrangement of a learning
space), and have turned my focus to those passages which reveal a more profound sense
of the underlying values and ideas the Bavli is grappling with. This focus has yielded
three main categories of content in the Bavli:
1. Explicit statements on how, what, where, and why one should learn and/or teach
2. Aggadot describing how, what, where, and why rabbis and students learned and or
taught
3. Aphorisms on the value of education
The first two categories occupy the bulk of my analysis, through where appropriate, cases
from the third category will also be examined. Excluded from this examination are more
general principles of human interaction that might otherwise map well onto principles of
education, but do not have to do explicitly with education.34 Also chiefly beyond the
scope of this project, but worth mentioning in brief are the Bavli’s own hermeneutics, as
well as the stylistic and structural features that demand specific methodologies of study
34
For more on this approach to Jewish education, see: Joel Lurie Grishaver, Teaching
Jewishly (Los Angeles: Torah Aura Productions, 2007).
15
(for example: its argumentative style, juxtaposition of different opinions, and use of
rhetorical and mnemonic devices). Where appropriate to our analysis, these will be
referenced.35
Together, these sources will be analyzed as models of education through the
paradigm of Schwab's four commonplaces. Part I examines the transition from the
Torah’s relatively minor understanding of education to the Bavli’s expanded approach,
and then provides an overview of Joseph Schwab’s pedagogy. Part II dives into the four
commonplaces, with two chapters dedicated to each. For each commonplace, I first
provide a broad, representative overview of the material throughout the Bavli related to
each commonplace, then move into an in-depth text analysis of one sugya each as a case
study. Part III includes a distillation of the major themes studied, my conclusions, and
questions to consider regarding the applicability of this study for current models of
Jewish education.
This thesis also more broadly explores what is it that makes Jewish learning
“Jewish.” Does the Bavli suggest a particular way to learn Jewishly? Does it lean toward
the Meiri’s vision of geonic studiousness, or Rabbi’s Negrin’s reliance on “Rabbi
Google”? Of course, these are only two models. As illuminating as they may be, they do
not capture the full breath of classical and contemporary approaches to Jewish education,
35
Susan Handelman argues that the Talmud speak not only about education, but
introduces “a way of teaching through [its] dramatic literary and rhetorical structures…
images, metaphors, allusions, enigmas.” She paints this as a “deep and self-conscious
teaching.” (Susan Handleman, Make Yourself a Teacher, 21).
For more on how the style and structure of the Bavli demand a certain style of
teaching and study, see pg. 167, n9, and also: Jane Kanarek and Jeffrey S. Kress, “The
Babylonian Talmud in Cognitive Perspective,” in Journal of Jewish Education 69:2
(2003): 58-78.
16
nor even just those embedded within the Bavli. Schwab’s commonplaces will assist us in
probing some of the most intriguing examples of these sources, and exploring what the
Bavli wants its learners to think about when it comes to students, teachers, subject matter,
and milieus.
WHAT OTHERS HAVE LEARNED
Compared to the depth and breadth of studies of the historical and philosophical
forces which gave rise to the Bavli’s formation, stylistic and source critical analyses, and
burgeoning research into how Talmud is taught,36 a comprehensive query into what the
Talmud itself has to say about education is relatively inchoate. In 2003, Jeffrey S. Kress
and Marjorie Lehman studied the pedagogical implications of the Bavli in light of studies
into human cognition.37 Observing that the Bavli is constructed in such a way that
demands an interpersonal construction of knowledge, Kress and Lehman question: “Do
interpersonally-based learning modes constitute a uniquely Jewish approach to pedagogy
rooted in a distinct mode of textual construction?”38 Lehman has written extensively on
this topic, most notably with Jane Kanarek, in their 2011 paper Making a Case for
36
See, in particular: Beth Cousins, ed. A Text That is Never Resolved: Skills, Knowledge,
and Personal Meaning in Students’ Experiences of Rabbinic Literature. (Waltham:
Brandeis, and New York: Jewish Theological Seminary, 2016); Jon A. Levisohn, “What
Are the Orientations to the Teaching of Rabbinic Literature?” in Turn It and Turn It
Again: Studies in the Teaching and Learning of Classical Jewish Texts (Levisohn and
Fendrick, eds., 2013); Jane L. Kanarek and Marjorie Lehman, eds. Learning to Read
Talmud: What it Looks Like and How it Happens, (Boston: Academic Studies, 2016).
37
Kanarek and Kress, “The Babylonian Talmud in Cognitive Perspective.”
38
Kanarek and Kress, “The Babylonian Talmud in Cognitive Perspective,” 71.
17
Talmud Pedagogy – The Talmud as Educational Model.39 Noting the infancy of their
study, they observe that the Talmud has “largely been overlooked as an educational
model,”40 a striking lacuna given the primacy Judaism places on education. Their paper
analyses two sugyas as examples of what the Bavli might reveal about how to teach
students to be critical thinkers, “embedded within a particular tradition.”41
Marc Hirshman’s work in this field42 is the most comprehensive analysis to date.
While not dedicated exclusively to the Bavli, Hirshman studies the values and methods of
education of the classical rabbinic period, exploring “how a small group of, at most, a
couple of thousand named scholars and rabbis of the first five centuries of the common
era in Roman Palestine and Sasanid Persia, was able to secure and sustain a thriving
national and educational culture.”43 With respect to these studies, I try not to duplicate
their efforts, and will point to their conclusions and insight where useful.
Elsewhere, others have studied education in the Bavli, but with a narrower
perspective on content, including Moshe Berger’s inquiry into Rav Hiyya’s vision of
education in masekhet Bava Metzi’a,44 or on application, such as Elie Holzer’s treatise on
the application of Jewish text study to professional development of educators,45
39
Marjorie Lehman and Jane Kanarek, “Talmud: Making a Case for Talmud Pedagogy –
The Talmud as an Educational Model,” in International Handbook of Jewish Education,
(Eds. Helena Miller, Lisa D. Grant, Alex Pomson; Springer, 2011), 581-596.
40
Lehman and Kanarek, “Talmud: Making a Case for Talmud Pedagogy,” 581.
41
Lehman and Kanarek, “Talmud: Making a Case for Talmud Pedagogy,” 583.
42
Marc Hirshman, The Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 100 C.E.-350 C.E.: Texts on
Education and Their Late Antique Context. (New York: Oxford University, 2012).
43
Hirshman, The Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, v.
44
Moshe Berger, “Towards the Development of a Jewish Pedagogy: Rav Chiya's Vision
of Torah Education,” in Judaism and Education (Beer-Sheva: Ben-Gurion University of
the Negev, 1998), 109-120.
45
Ellie Holzer, “Conceptions of the Study of Jewish Texts in Teachers’ Professional
Development,” in Religious Education, 97 (2002). 377-403.
18
Kanarek’s study into teaching Talmud in a summer Kollel,46 and most recently, my
colleague Rachel Marder’s research into the teaching of Talmud at Svara, a
“Traditionally Radical, Queer Yeshiva” in Chicago.47 Against this backdrop, this thesis
extends the work of Kanarek and Lehman:
More time needs to be spent studying the Bavli for its pedagogical lessons…
We need to think about how the rabbis defined pedagogy and to explore the
models of teaching and learning that they set up for us… to develop a better
understanding of the nature of Jewish thought and culture… Within the field
of Talmud lies a burgeoning field of Jewish pedagogy that bridges the
scholarly worlds of Jewish literature and Jewish education.48
I hope also that in doing so, I may reflect one of the Bavli’s own visions of Jewish
learning, sharpening the teaching of the great scholars from whom I have learned:
למה נמשלו דברי תורה כעץ שנאמר )משלי ג יח( עץ חיים היא למחזיקים:אמר רב נחמן בר יצחק
בה לומר לך מה עץ קטן מדליק את הגדול אף תלמידי חכמים קטנים מחדדים את הגדולים והיינו
.דאמר ר' חנינא הרבה למדתי מרבותי ומחבירי יותר מרבותי ומתלמידי יותר מכולן
Rav Nahman bar Yitzhak said: Why are Torah matters compared to a tree, as
it is stated: “It is a tree of life to those who cling to it” (Prov. 3:18)? This
comes to tell you that just as a small [piece of] wood can ignite a large piece,
so too, minor Torah scholars can sharpen great [Torah scholars]. This is why
Rabbi Hanina said: “I have learned much from my teachers and even more
from my friends than from my teachers, but from my students, more than all
of them.49
46
Jane Kanarek. “The Pedagogy of Slowing Down: Teaching Talmud in a Summer
Kollel,” in Teaching Theology and Religion, (2010). 15-34.
47
Rachel Marder, “Memorize that Feeling: An Analysis of the Svara Beit Midrash” (MA
diss., Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies of American Jewish University, 2017).
48
Kanarek and Lehman, “Making a Case for Talmud Pedagogy,” 595.
49
bTa’an. 7a
19
CHAPTER 1
FROM TELLING TO TEACHING
20
How do we get from the Torah’s statement, “( ”ולמדה את בני ישראלteach it to the
people of Israel)1 to gemaras on three hundred dapim discussing teachers and students? A
wealth of rabbinic thought on education can pour forth from just those four words, as
seen in this gemara discussing the method of Torah study, from Eruvin:
ת"ר כיצד סדר משנה משה למד מפי הגבורה נכנס אהרן ושנה לו משה פירקו נסתלק אהרן וישב
לשמאל משה נכנסו בניו ושנה להן משה פירקן… נכנסו זקנים ושנה להן משה פירקן נסתלקו
זקנים נכנסו כל העם ושנה להן משה פירקן נמצאו ביד אהרן ארבעה ביד בניו שלשה וביד הזקנים
נסתלק משה ושנה להן אהרן פירקו נסתלק אהרן שנו להן בניו פירקן. שנים וביד כל העם אחד
.נסתלקו בניו שנו להן זקנים פירקן נמצא ביד הכל ארבעה
מכאן א"ר אליעזר חייב אדם לשנות לתלמידו ארבעה פעמים וקל וחומר ומה אהרן שלמד מפי
.משה ומשה מפי הגבורה כך הדיוט מפי הדיוט על אחת כמה וכמה
יט( ולמדה את בני,ר"ע אומר מניין שחייב אדם לשנות לתלמידו עד שילמדנו שנאמר )דברים לא
…ישראל ומניין עד שתהא סדורה בפיהם שנאמר שימה בפיהם
The sages taught: What was the order of teaching (mishnah, lit. “repetition”)?
Moses learned directly from the mouth of the Almighty. Aaron entered, and
Moses taught (shanah, lit.: “repeated”) him his lesson. Aaron moved, and sat
to the left of Moses. Aaron’s sons entered and Moses taught (shanah) them
their lesson… The elders entered and Moses taught (shanah) them their lesson.
The elders moved aside. The entire nation entered and Moses taught (shanah)
them their lesson. Therefore, Aaron learned it (lit.: “it was in Aaron’s hand)
four times, his sons learn it three times, the elders learned it two times, and all
the people learned it once. Moses left, and Aaron taught (shanah) his lesson to
others. Aaron left and his sons taught (shanu) their lesson to others. His sons
left and the elders taught (shanu) their lesson to others. We find that everyone
learned it (lit.: “had it in their hands”) four times.
From here, Rabbi Eliezer said: “A person is obligated to teach (lishnot) their
student four times. And if Aaron – who learned from Moses, and Moses from
the mouth of the Almighty – [learned] this [way], all the more so an ordinary
[student learning] from the mouth of an ordinary [teacher must repeat their
studies four times].”
Rabbi Akiva said: “From where [do we know] that a person is obligated to
teach their student until they learn?” As it says: “Teach it to the children of
Israel” (Deut. 31:19). And from where [do we know that a person must teach
1
Deut. 31:19
21
their student] until it is arranged in their mouths?” As it is says: “Put it in their
mouths.” (Deut. 31:19)2
Here, biblical characters are positioned as the scholars of Oral Torah, repeatedly teaching
their lessons orally, in an unbroken chain of tradition stretching back to Sinai. The verse
from Deuteronomy that R’ Akiva comments on refers only to teaching “it” – that is the
closing poem of Torah (or, more generously to the entire Torah) – to the children of
Israel. But he expands this concept to a more general academic principle, introducing a
new pedagogic approach: one is required to teach their student over and over again3 until
they have sufficiently mastered the material, so that they themselves can do the same.
We can get a sense of why the rabbis associated learning with oral repetition, and
at the same time see the forces in play that resulted in the development of the Talmudic
text as we have it today. Marc Hirshman notes the following:
For at least some of the Jewish sages, the words of Torah were essentially
divine. God’s words were part and parcel of God’s essence. This is why they
are both represented as fire. The goal of the sage is to attach one’s self and to
cleave to these divine words… The words of scripture and the words of the
oral law were not second-best, inadequate representatives of God’s will and
essence. They were God’s faithful emissaries. It was in speech that God was
revealed and those “concrete” words were to be interpreted in every possible
manner. This view of language and speech distinguishes the rabbinic
appreciation of speech from that of both Plotinus and Origen… For the
rabbinic sages, understanding was consummated in speech.4
Hirshman argues that the rabbis’ meta-pedagogy of learning as an act of speech grows
from its early state of anxiety at preserving a native culture under foreign influence
(leading to an intense focus on rote memorization), toward a more self-aware and self-
2
bEruv. 54b
It is notable that while the Torah uses the word “( ”למדteach / cause to learn), this
gemara uses the word “( ”שנהrepeat) to refer to teaching, as it is one of the classical
rabbinic terms, giving us the very term “Mishnah.”
4
Hirshman, The Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 30.
3
22
confident, “flourishing” model, focusing on complex arguments and more diverse skills
acquisition.5 The rabbis take the seeds planted in the Torah, and give “new meaning to
the act of study. It is no longer study merely for the sake of knowledge, but… become[s]
a value in its own right.”6
A critical historical approach to Talmud study – seeking to deconstruct the variant
strands, assigning names and dates to voices7 – would want to interrogate what caused
this shift, what led to a more self-aware state, what foreign influence manifests itself in
the rabbis’ minds, and how that diversity of forces coalesced in the text we have today.
To my mind, while historically relevant and intellectually stimulating, such an approach
is less appropriate for a contemporary pedagogical assessment of the Bavli. In general,
and particularly for the purposes of this thesis, I am moved by Moulie Vidas’s argument
that understanding the Bavli’s monumental and revolutionary focus on education solely
by dint of space or time – either as simply one stage in the development of rabbinic
thought, or a regional quirk of Babylonian culture – is not sufficient. The “urgency of
these passages,” he suggests, “indicates that the issues are still very much alive.”8
It is this self-consciousness, this sense of urgency, this preoccupation of the Bavli
with what it means to learn and to teach that I explore in this work.
5
Hirshman, The Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, vi.
Israel Jacob Yuval, “The Orality of Jewish Oral Law: from Pedagogy to Ideology,” 244.
7
For more on the stratification of the Bavli’s voices, see David Weiss Halivni, The
Formation of the Babylonian Talmud, (trans. J. Rubenstein; New York: Oxford
University, 2013). For more on how that approach to studying the text impacts theories of
education and identity, see: Hirshman, The Stablization of Rabbinic Culture, and Martin
S. Jaffee, Torah in the Mouth: Writing and Oral Tradition in Palestinian Judaism 200
BCE-400 CE, (New York: Oxford University, 2001).
8
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 117.
6
23
I seek an approach that embraces the critical understandings modern scholarship
has provided, yet is not satisfied with a detached, scientific analysis of the text. I am
equally dissatisfied with an approach that (anecdotally) I believe is pervasive in many
liberal Jewish educational settings, of using the Talmud to substantiate already held
philosophies or pedagogies by mining the text for pithy quotes and inspirational stories
that (on surface) fit comfortably within a contemporary, liberal mindset.9 I agree with
Daniel Gordis, who argues that our study and use of text “must be rooted in a broad read
of the Jewish canon, not in sound-bites thereof… Jewish discourse must not devolve
into ‘pin the tail on the rabbinic aphorism.’… Ideas, not ‘greatest hits,’ are what
matter.”10
It is these ideas that we will encounter, up close. How might these sources serve as
models of Jewish learning? When the Bavli presents to us images of teachers and
students in relationship, what does it want us to know? Is the Bavli only interested in selfpreservation, or is there a wider vision of education present? Put another way: Is there a
transcendent vision, and if so what is it, and what claim does it hold on us?
It is my belief that the Bavli continues to offer insight and wisdom that is relevant
for Jewish learning today. I believe, in words shared by Sarra Lev in her inquiry into a
self-reflective study of the Talmud, that the Bavli exists “to help us achieve holiness… by
impelling us to interact with the text. It is a text that pushes our buttons and by which we
9
For more on different orientations to teaching rabbinic literature, including an in-depth
analysis of those that I have referred to here, see: Jon A. Levisohn, “A Menu of
Orientations to the Teaching of Rabbinic Literature,” Journal of Jewish Education 76:1
(2010): 4-51
10
Daniel Gordis, “A Responsibility to Speak,” The Times of Israel, No pages. [November
26, 2012]. Online: http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/on-the-absence-of-outrage.
24
can be pushed to become ever more reflective, understanding, empathetic, discerning,
and expansive.”11
11
Sarra Lev, “Talmud that Works Your Heart: New Approaches to Reading,” in
Learning to Read Talmud: What It Looks Like and How It Happens (ed. Marjorie
Lehman and Jane Kanarek; Brighton: Academic Studies, 2016), 177.
25
CHAPTER 2
JOSEPH SCHWAB AND THE FOUR COMMONPLACES
26
Amidst a discussion in Bava Kama questioning who is greater: one who is
commanded and performs a mitzvah, or one who is not commanded yet still performs it
(itself part of a larger sugya on the repayment of damages between Jews and non-Jews),
the Bavli strays from the rabbinic debate into a highly imaginative aggadah:
קראו ושנו. למדונו תורתכם.ת"ר וכבר שלחה מלכות רומי שני סרדיוטות אצל חכמי ישראל
בשעת פטירתן אמרו להם דקדקנו בכל תורתכם ואמת הוא חוץ מדבר זה שאתם אומרים.ושלשו
שור של ישראל שנגח שור של כנעני פטור של כנעני שנגח שור של ישראל בין תם בין מועד
.משלם נזק שלם
ואי רעהו לאו דוקא אפילו דישראל. אי רעהו דוקא אפילו דכנעני כי נגח דישראל ליפטר.ממ"נ
.כי נגח דכנעני לחייב ודבר זה אין אנו מודיעים אותו למלכות
Our sages taught: The Roman government once dispatched two military
officers to the sages of Israel. [They said to them]: “Teach us your Torah.” [The
officers] read, and repeated it, and repeated it a third time. At the time they left,
they said to [the sages]: “We have examined all of your Torah, and it is true,
except for this [one] thing that you say – [that the owner of] an ox owned by a
Jew that gored an ox of a Canaanite1 [is] exempt [from paying damages, while
an ox owned] by a Canaanite that gored an ox of a Jew – whether [it was]
presumed to be gentle or hostile – [is liable to] pay the entire [cost of] damages.
[This law is difficult] whichever way you look at it.2 If ‘of another’3 [refers]
precisely [to the owners of both oxen being Jewish], then even if [an ox owned
by] a Canaanite,4 gores [an ox owned by] a Jew, [the non-Jew should be]
exempt [from paying damages]. But if ‘of another’ does not [refer] precisely
[to the owners both being Jewish], then even if [an ox owned by] a Jew gores
[an ox owned by] a Canaanite, [the Jewish owner should be held] liable [to pay
damages]. But in this matter, we will not inform the government.”5
Immediately, we are drawn in to the aggadah by the sense of drama crafted by the
authors: military officers confront a group of Rabbis and challenge them on home turf, as
1
i.e. a non-Jew.
Steinsaltz clarifies: no matter which side of the dilemma one adopts, an unacceptable
conclusion follows.
3
Now, the Roman officers are quoting from the Torah, whereas earlier, they were
quoting from the Mishnah.
4
i.e. a non-Jew.
5
bB. Qama. 38a
2
27
it were. Why did the Roman government send them? What are their intentions? How is it
that they are able to learn all of the Torah in just three “lessons”? How and why do the
Romans determine that all of the Torah is true? Why is the example they give the only
one that is determined to not be true? Is it a goal of the sages to make the Roman offers
complete believers in Torah? And what do we make of the cryptic ending?
The story itself is not a historical account, nor does it purport to be one. The
characters are all anonymous, and the authors clearly craft it in service of the immediate
makhloket. On its own, it does not even provide a conclusive answer to the halakhic
question in play. But through the imagination of the rabbinic authors, we catch some
glimpses – though not fully-fleshed out – of what the authors’ view of learning might
look like. Indeed, in just this one brief aggadah, the Bavli engages with the very four
factors we are considering: who can study? Who can teach? What can be learned, and
where may it be learned?
The Student: This gemara raises questions of who is permitted to be a student of
Jewish law and thought. It suggests that in the eyes of the rabbis, non-Jews might
not only have interest in, but be capable of studying Jewish text. Elsewhere, both
discomfort in and prohibitions on rabbis teaching non-Jews are common,6 but
here no such objections are raised. Indeed, just earlier in this sugya (not quoted
here), the Bavli states that non-Jews who study Torah are considered as if they are
like the Israelite High Priest!
6
See, for example, bHag. 13a, which explicitly prohibits the teaching of Torah to nonJews: “Rabbi Ami said further: The words of Torah may not be transmitted to a
Gentile…” See also bSanh. 59a, which takes the prohibition even further with a debate
over whether non-Jews who study Torah are liable to receive the death penalty.
28
The Teacher(s): Who are our teachers, and how do they teach? They are identified
as חכמי ישראל, “the wise ones of Israel,” or more colloquially, “sages.” The text
curiously leaves out any description of the sages’ actions or thoughts. Indeed, the
only active characters are the Romans. But what about our sages? Did they teach
willingly or begrudgingly? What kind of attention did they pay to their Roman
students? The method of study appears to be rote repetition – consistent with this
text’s classification as a baraita.
The Subject Matter: The Roman officers demand that the sages teach “your
Torah,” which they then study by repetition three times. While they report
believing that the “Torah” is true, the exceptional case they bring is not from the
Torah, but from the mishnah in discussion earlier in the sugya.7 This is a curious
anomaly. The text suggests that not only have the Romans learned both Torah and
Mishnah (in three sittings!) but they are immediately able to engage in a critical
analysis of their learning material, parsing individual words. When held up
against other listings in the Bavli of appropriate curricula,8 the Romans are given
access to a surprising wealth of knowledge!
The Milieu: At first glance, there does not seem to be any mention made of where
this episode takes place, however the word choices indicate there may be
intentional thought present: The Roman government is said to have “”שלחה
7
bB. Qam. 37b
See, for example bSuk. 28a, bB. Metz. 33a-b, and bB. Bat. 134a for overviews of the
knowledge attributed to great scholars.
8
29
(dispatched) the two officers to the sages, indicating that the exchange takes place
in the rabbis’ home environment, rather than vice versa. Indeed, the text indicates
that the officers come to: “אצל חכמי ישראל,” (the place of the sages). The word אצל
functions similarly to the term “chez” in French. Finally, the climax is reached
“( ”בשעת פטירתןat the time of their departure). All of this gives the impression of
the Roman officers coming to a place that is foreign to them and domestic to the
rabbis. Elsewhere we will discover more explicit statements vis-à-vis what
characterizes an appropriate learning environment, but here the message is
simple: learning may take place in a space where there are students and teachers
together.
What at first glance appears to be a folktale marshalled in service of a separate argument
in the field of tort law now appears sharper: it is also a concise examination of rabbinic
learning. As we shall come to see, when read in conjunction with other Bavli texts on
education, this baraita raises significant questions about how the rabbis understand
education. Stepping back from the content of the text itself, it also helps us see the limits
and open spaces of our examination. Louis E. Newman draws attention to a teaching by
American jurisprudential scholar Karl Llewellyn, that “every legal precedent has not one
value, but two; it can be interpreted either broadly, so as to encompass many new cases,
or narrowly, thus restricting its impact on future decisions.”9 In our case, the range of
values might be understood as follows:
9
Louis E. Newman, “Woodchoppers and Respirators: The Problem of Interpretation in
Contemporary Jewish Ethics,” in Modern Judaism 10:1 (1990): 17-42.
30
•
The Student: Can anyone be a student of Jewish text, or are there specific
requirements?
•
The Teacher: Is חכמי ישראלa professional title, or an honorific? How does one
become one of חכמי ישראל, and does that alone enable and/or entitle one to teach?
•
The Subject Matter: What is learned between teacher and student? What is meant
by “Torah”? Does the nature of the subject matter impact the mode of study?
What kinds of materials are out of bounds (or less appropriate)?
•
The Milieu: Can Jewish learning take place anywhere?
Our baraita could be remarkably liberal, and invite a broad interpretation: It might
suggest that anyone can be a student of Jewish text; that one either does not need to be a
professional teacher in order to teach, or that some of the most learned sages of Israel
would occupy themselves instructing foreign military officers; that Torah and Mishnah
are accessible bodies of knowledge, and that learning can take place anywhere.
Alternatively, this may be seen as a more conservative text, demanding a restricting eye:
It could suggest that the Roman officers are only permitted to study text because they
have military authority and the teachers have no other say in the matter. Torah and
Mishnah are learned, but the style of learning known as gemara,10 the highest discipline,
is out of the question. And while no environment is specifically mentioned, the learning
does not take place in the most obvious of locations: the beit midrash; perhaps it is an
elite institution, out of bounds for these students.
On its own, this baraita is clearly not substantial enough to be held up as a
distinct model of rabbinic education, however, as noted, it does present an entrée into the
10
Not the Gemara/Talmud itself, but the form of study known as gemara. See pg. 132.
31
field of pedagogy, inviting questions that help establish the parameters we must consider
when approach other texts. One of the fascinating things one discovers when unpacking
how other Bavli texts discuss education is how similar they are to this one in their
capaciousness. While there are numerous episodes scattered throughout the Bavli
specifically about teachers and teaching or students and learning, and where and what this
entails, a noticeable majority of instances discussing education comment on two or more
of our pedagogical commonplaces together. The Bavli seems to be saying to us: it is not
enough to merely detail the qualities of a good teacher or a good student, or to present a
list of what counts as Jewish fluency. It is not enough to lay out “a set of vague general
principles and maxims.”11 Rather, Jewish education, in the eyes of the Bavli, must give
thoughtful consideration to teacher, to student, to subject, and to the place of learning
together.
Joseph Schwab would be pleased. “Curriculum is not an endless collection of
objectives,”12 he insists. Schwab inveighs against any approach to education which
dissects the learning as well as the teachers’ and students’ thinking about it. He advocates
strenuously that the four commonplaces of education are of intrinsically equal
importance.13 While individual circumstances may demand prioritizing one
commonplace over another, broadly speaking, no one of them is the “fountainhead of
decision and choice.”14 We see a similar approach reflected in the Bavli when examining
it through the paradigm of the four commonplaces: while there are instances where the
11
Kanarek and Lehman Talmud: Making a Case for Talmud Pedagogy, 583.
Schwab, “The Practical 4,” 240.
13
Schwab, “The Practical 4,” 240.
14
Schwab, “The Practical 4,” 240, 241.
12
32
Bavli dissects its approach – speaking only of the importance of teachers, students, or the
learning material – broadly speaking, education is treated as a comprehensive activity,
without exclusively privileging one commonplace over another. As we examine each of
the four, it will be intriguing to see how and for what reasons the Bavli might focus on
one over another, and what this indicates about its larger ideas of education.
Schwab was writing against the backdrop of American educational systems that
had privileged pedagogies which sought to “place” cultural literacy within the heads of
students through lecturing, rote memorization, and examinations. Teaching, he laments,
“is largely ‘telling,’ written or oral, with little thoughtful attention to argument and
evidence; still less with consideration by students of what is yet to be known and how it
might be sought through enquiry.”15 An approach to student learning focused on
“professional recital, memorization, and re-recital” was insufficient.16 One cannot help
but see the Bavli – with its move away from mishnaic rote repetition and its hyper-focus
on debate, search for evidence, counterpoint presentation of views, and maintenance of
minority opinions – as exactly this desired approach; the perfect salve for Schwab’s
diagnosis.
Indeed, Schwab himself argues for a radically different approach to education,
where discussion, deliberation, and critical thinking are viewed not only as tools for
acquiring external knowledge, but as essential components of education itself.17
“Curriculum decision has been so commonly based on subject-matter considerations
15
Schwab, “The Practical 4,” 250.
Schwab, Joseph. College Curriculum and Student Protest (Chicago: University of
Chicago, 1969), 20.
17
Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 6.
16
33
alone,”18 he writes. At times, it might also focus on political considerations of teachers, or
on the needs of students, but only on these at the expense of, or without consideration for,
the matrix of commonplaces. By placing discussion and deliberation at the forefront of
his pedagogy, we can see how the four commonplaces come into being. Fostering
discussion demands consideration of more than one party: we need both student and
teacher and a sense of the abilities and needs of both parties. It demands consideration of
the subject: what are the boundaries of the discussion? What kinds of questions and
debate adequately address the subject matter? And it demands consideration of the milieu
– both the physical and tonal characteristics of the learning space: not simply what
environmental setup is most conducive to acquiring knowledge, but how to construct a
learning space that encourages both parties to contribute to discussion and inquiry.
For Schwab, these considerations are not a matter of partisan philosophy, but an
eminently practical matter. He demanded that those who develop curricula consider all
four commonplaces because:
No one person adequately commands the concrete particularities of all the
commonplaces. What should be taught, how teaching should run, who is
available to do it, which students most need the change in question, are each
matters requiring their own expertise of experience.19
Schwab’s pedagogical approach to curriculum development prompts many of the same
questions as does our earlier gemara from Bava Kama. We will use these to guide the
analysis of sugyas in the course of this project:
18
19
Schwab, “The Practical 4,” 241.
Schwab, “The Practical 4,” 244.
34
The Student: What does it mean to be a student? Is it to develop intelligence?20 To
ask questions and seek answers?21 To be a passive learner, or to be socialized into
an ongoing, “participative rhetorical and dialectical” process of enquiry?22
The Teacher: Who should be permitted to teach? What is the nature of a teacher’s
relationship to their student23 – is it merely to impart topic-specific knowledge, or
20
Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 10.
Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 10.
22
Joseph Schwab, “Inquiry and the Reading Process,” The Journal of General Education
11:2 (1958): 72-82. 158.
23
Note must be made here that in Talmudic parlance, it is more difficult to differentiate
between the formal roles of student and teacher as understood in Western education
systems. In the Bavli (and indeed, in Jewish tradition writ large), a – תלמיד חכםa wise
student – can be both a student scholar and a teacher for others. A lucid example of the
need to clarify this is found in bKid. 32 where we find a debate over whether one who is
a young, but wise student, might be considered akin to an elder teacher and thus
deserving of a higher degree of honour:
21
איכא בינייהו יניק וחכים ת"ק סבר יניק וחכים לא רבי יוסי הגלילי סבר אפילו יניק וחכים
There is [a debate between Rabbi Yossi HaGalili and an anonymous Tanna
regarding a student who is] young and wise. The anonymous Tanna reasons
that a young, wise student is not [considered an elder]; Rabbi Yossi HaGalili
reasons that even a young, wise student [is deserving of honour).
The gemara resolves this debate by agreeing that honour is achieved by virtue of
wisdom, not age, and that even one who is young is and wise is called an elder: “אפי' יניק
”וחכים
The Bavli also homiletically notes the overlap between teaching and learning
roles in technical terms: “( ”אמר מר זוטרא קרי ביה למען ילמדו רב אשי אמר ודאי למען ילמדוMar
Zutra said [that one should] read into [the verse]: ‘That they may teach’ [(yelamudu),
instead of ‘that they may learn’ (yilmedu) (Deut. 31:12)]. Rav Ashi said: ‘Certainly, [it
should be read] ‘That they may teach’’” (bHag. 3a, emphasis mine).
And similarly: ““( ”ולימדתם ולמדתםYou shall teach (velimadtem),” (Deut.
11:19) [can also be read as]: “you shall study (ulmadtem).” (bKid. 29b, emphasis mine).
Elsewhere, we read of rabbis who attend the yeshiva to learn as students with
greater rabbis and teachers quoted along with their own teachers, establishing a long
chain of teachers whose very identities are bound up as students. This characterization is
poetically evoked in the earlier quoted passage from bTa’an. 7a: “והיינו דאמר ר' חנינא הרבה
35
to reflect upon education as a whole (what Schwab describes as “ends as well as
means”)?24 What systems does teaching involve – how do we balance “lectures,
lecture notes, prescribed readings, and examination” with “deliberation… mutual
criticism… [and] diversities of experience and insights”?25
The Learning Material: What counts as a worthy subject matter and how much
influence should it have over other educational considerations? What is the
balance between theory and practice; between the search for truth and the
construction meaning?26 To what extent is cultural literacy sufficient when held
up against developing critical thinking and analytical skills?27
The Milieu: Is the learning environment a distinct space dedicated to knowledge
acquisition, or a space for experimentation?28 What occurs within the space that
we call a classroom, and is anything that transpires in that space automatically
( ”למדתי מרבותי ומחבירי יותר מרבותי ומתלמידי יותר מכולןRabbi Hanina said: “I have learned
much from my teachers and even more from my friends than from my teachers, but from
my students, more than all of them.”)
Students of Talmud should be attuned to this overlap in the role of a scholar, and
note that much of what can be said of how students learn also applies to teachers.
24
Schwab, “Inquiry and the Reading Process,” 148.
25
Joseph Schwab, “The Practical: A Language for Curriculum,” The School Review 78:1
(1969): 1-23.
26
Schwab, “The Practical: A Language for Curriculum,” 21.
27
Schwab, “The Practical: A Language for Curriculum,” 16.
28
Joseph Schwab, “Testing and the Curriculum,” in Science, Curriculum, and Liberal
Education (ed. Ian Westbury and Neil J. Wilkof; Chicago: University of Chicago, 1978),
148.
36
deemed education?29 What degree of structure and control are required in
establishing a learning environment?30
In balancing these four commonplaces and the questions they prompt, Schwab advances
a paradigm that prompts educators to think holistically about what counts as education, so
that a multivocal discourse may be translated into practice. Others have argued that in
this way, Schwab’s very approach itself is that of the Talmud’s.31
At this point, it is worth repeating the distinction between Schwab’s development
of his commonplaces and my use of them here. For Schwab, they were a succinct and
lucid solution to what he deemed a problem endemic to the American-style education of
his time. My use of them is not meant to “solve” a singular problem with Jewish
education, nor to argue that Schwab developed his pedagogy with the Talmud in mind,
but rather, to explore the Talmudic conception of education itself to understand what it is
that makes Jewish learning “Jewish.”
29
Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 69.
Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 83.
31
Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 16.
30
37
PART II
THE FOUR COMMONPLACES
38
CHAPTER 3
“ובנביאי
”משיחי
“ANOINTED ONES AND PROPHETS:”1
STUDENTS AND SCHOLARS
1
bShab. 119b
39
Schwab, we have seen, developed his pedagogy of the Four Commonplaces
largely as a critique of an American approach to education which saw students as empty
receptacles that could be filled with knowledge. While the Bavli does characterize
students as vessels for knowledge in several places,2 its general view of students is much
more nuanced, addressing many of the same questions that Schwab asks: What does it
mean to be a student? Is it to develop intelligence?3 To ask questions and seek answers?4
To be a passive learner, or to be socialized into an ongoing process of enquiry?5 In
considering these and other factors, the Bavli pays close attention to the emotional,
behavioural, cognitive, physical, and social characteristics of students.
We can characterize what the Bavli has to say about being a student into four
categories:
1. Identity: Who is and is not a student?
2. Relationship: What are the ideal modes of interaction with others?
3. Value: What is the value of being a learner?
4. Practice: What are the different practical approaches to learning?
איזהו תלמיד: WHO IS A STUDENT?6
The first perek (chapter) of the masekhet Ta’anit (2a-15a) discusses at what point
during the year one should begin the set prayers for rain as part of the Amidah, as well as
2
bSuk. 46a-b; bSanh. 99b
Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 10.
4
Block, Talmud, Curriculum, and the Practical, 10.
5
Joseph Schwab, “Inquiry and the Reading Process,” The Journal of General Education
11:2 (1958): 72-82. 158.
6
bTa’an. 10b
3
40
when individual and communal fasts should be instituted in the event of drought. It is
here, in a baraita, that we find a lucid and succinct answer to the question: “who is a
student?”
איזהו. אלא כל תלמידי חכמים יחידים. תלמיד אני איני ראוי להיות יחיד: אל יאמר אדם:תנו רבנן
יחיד ואיזהו תלמיד יחיד כל שראוי למנותו פרנס על הצבור תלמיד כל ששואלין אותו דבר הלכה
.בלמודו ואומר ואפילו במסכת דכלה
The Sages taught baraita: A person should not say: I am only a student, and
consequently I am unworthy to be considered an individual (who fasts,
according to the Mishnah). Rather, all Torah scholars are [considered to be]
individuals (and therefore, required to fast). Who is an individual and who is a
student? An individual is anyone who is [learned in Torah] and fitting to be
appointed leader over the community. A student is anyone who is asked a
matter of halakhah in their studies and says [the correct answer], even if [they
only know] the tractate of the kallah (that is, the tractate that the community
studied together that year).7
Intriguingly, this question is not asked as part of a general attempt to describe any and all
students, but rather as part of a situational examination of upon whom these petitionary
fasts are obligatory. In doing so, we get a quick insight into how a student is not merely
someone who learns, but is a much broader category that carries with it social and
religious connotations. In this sugya, the mishnah in discussion examines the obligations
imposed upon individuals to fast when rain is absent. In response, the Bavli brings a
baraita to sharpen the definition of the ( יחידיםindividuals) in question, and introduce the
category of ( תלמידי חכמיםstudents) as comparison.
Here we get a sense of how the Bavli suggests that a student is not merely a
descriptive title for one who happens to be learning, but something more akin to a distinct
social class. That is, not every person can necessarily be a student, and being a student
7
bTa’an. 10b
41
carries with it certain privileges and obligations.8 This gemara identifies that there is a
minimum amount of knowledge required to be considered a student, but it is not entirely
prohibitive – anyone who can demonstrate a grasp of halakhah, even if only of the most
immediate lessons learned – enjoys the status of student. The fact that to be considered a
student, one must already have some knowledge helps distinguish Bavli’s unique view of
discipleship – here and elsewhere, it is not speaking about elementary learning, where it
would be reasonable to claim a lack of knowledge. Moreover, being a student is not to
been seen in a diminutive light. Students (male students) carry the same obligations as
those who have completed their formal studies.
In laying out a view of student as identity, the Bavli is concerned with defining (a)
the character of learners – age,9 sex,10 national/religious identity,11 physical ability,12
spiritual condition (ritual purity),13 social status,14 cognitive ability15 (studiousness and
prior knowledge), and (b) an extensive code of behaviour16 (paying particular attention to
how little or how much humility and ego is desired,17 and deeds guided by the very
8
For example, bKid 40b, where one who doesn’t study Bible or Mishnah is legally
disqualified from serving as a witness.
9
bEruv. 28b; bSuk. 28a; bHag. 14a; bKid. 29, 30a, 50a; bB. Bat. 2a, 21a-22a; bAZ 19b
10
bEruv. 27a; bKid. 29b, 30a, 34a, 34b-35a
11
bShab .31a; bMeg. 15a; bB. Qam. 38a
12
bHag. 3a
13
bBer. 22a; bMo’ed Qat. 15a
14
bMo’ed Qat. 15a, bKet. 28a-b; bHor. 13a
15
bShab. 104a, 114a; bEruv 53a, bEruv 54a; bTa’an 10b; bSuk 42a, 46a-b; bHag. 13a,
14a; bSanh. 36a-b, 99b, 101a
16
bBer. 18b, 43b; Shab. 63a, 114a, 145b; bPes. 49a, 54b, 112a; bYom. 72b; b Ta’an. 41,
20b, 30b; Meg. 32a; bHag 15a-b; bYev. 96b; bNed. 37b and Rashi ad loc; bKid 30a; bB.
Metz. 33b; bMak. 10a; bNid. 16b and Rashi ad loc, 20b
17
bShab 119b; bEruv. 53b; bSuk. 49b and Rashi ad loc; bTa’an. 7a, 20b; bMeg. 22a;
bMo’ed Qat. 16a; bKet. 25b; bNed. 62a; bSot 5a, 47b; bB. Metz. 23b and Rashi ad loc;
bSanh. 88b; bAZ 19a-b; bHor. 13a; bTem. 16a
42
material being learned18).
The Bavli also delineates those who are not obligated or are prohibited to learn,
utilizing many of the same parameters (age,19 sex, 20 national/religious identity,21 spiritual
condition,22 and social status23). It also addresses (rather judgmentally) the category of
Am Ha’aretz (those who do not follow rabbinical laws punctiliously, loosely translated as
“ignoramuses”),24 and those who do not learn, neglect, or abandon their studies.25
This focus on the identity of learners in this manner contributes to the aforementioned
sense that being labelled a student is not merely on account of a commitment to study,
but is a signifier of a distinct social, religious, and legal group: there are those who are
deemed learners, and those who aren’t. While it is this very focus on identity that
contributes to the Bavli’s robust and holistic approach to education, there is a strong
critique to be levelled here about the oft-exclusivist nature of these definitions. Joseph
Winkler reminds us well in this respect that while the Talmud offers wisdom and
guidance, it is also “a frequently prohibitive document of cruelty, of misogyny, of
racism… and exclusion.”26
18
bYom. 72b; bHag. 15a-b; bYev. 109b; bSot. 21b; bAZ 19a-b and Rashi ad loc
bKid. 29b, 50a; bB. Bat. 21a
20
bHag. 3a; bSot. 21b; bKid. 29b, 30a; bHor. 13b
21
bHag. 13a; bSanh. 59a
22
bMo’ed Qat. 15a
23
bMo’ed Qat. 15a; bMak. 10a
24
bBer. 47b; bPes. 49b; bKet. 11b; Sot. 21b-22a; bB. Metz. 33b; bB. Bat. 20b-22a. For
more on the category of Am Ha’aretz, see Jeffrey Rubenstein, Elitism: The Sages and the
Amei ha’arets, in “The Culture of the Babylonian Talmud,”123-142.
25
bShab. 119b-120a; bEruv. 55a; bPes. 49b, 110a; bYoma 19b, 71a; bMeg. 29a; bHagg
5b, 9a-10a, 10 and Rashi ad loc; 14a; bNed. 32a; bSot. 10a, 21b-22a; bKid. 40b; bB.
Metz. 84b, 11b bB. Bat. 22a; bSanh. 99a-100a; bAZ 3b, 18b; bHor. 13b-14a
26
Joseph Winkler, “Reading David Foster Wallace Led Me Back to Studying the
Talmud.” No pages. [10 February, 2014]. Online. http://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-lifeand-religion/159711/david-foster-wallace-talmud.
19
43
ברזל בברזלIRON SHARPENS IRON:27
RELATIONSHIPS
Beyond establishing social mores and general behavioural codes, the Bavli
specifically highlights the desired interpersonal relationships between (a) students and
each other, (b) students and their teachers, and (c) students and other groups.
In a famous gemara, the beneficial relationship between scholars is poetically
evoked:
אמר רבי חמא )אמר רבי( חנינא מאי דכתיב ברזל בברזל יחד לומר לך מה ברזל זה אחד מחדד
.את חבירו אף שני תלמידי חכמים מחדדין זה את זה בהלכה
Rabbi Hama, son of Rabbi Hanina said: What is [the meaning of] that which is
written: “Iron sharpens iron” (Prov. 27:17)? This tells you that just as with iron,
one sharpens the other, so too two Torah scholars sharpen one another in
halakhah.28
The dependency of one learner on another is highlighted here, indicating that learners
must support one another in their learning not only out of what might be deemed basic
human decency, but because the very act of learning is elevated by the relationship
present.
The relationship among scholars is one that might be further narrowed into two fields:
What is the ideal tenor of learning together? And how does the Bavli describe situations
when the rabbis fall short? Apparently, while the Bavli aspires to a respectful and
mutually supportive learning relationship, this was not always the case.29 This is
27
BTa’an. 7a
bTa’an. 7a
29
bTa’an. 20b; bYev. 62b, 105b; bB. Kam 117a-b; bB. Metz. 20b; bSanh. 24a. See also,
“Shame and the Late Babylonian Academy” in Jeffrey Rubenstein, The Culture of the
Babylonian Talmud. (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University, 2003), and Gilla
Ratzersdorfer Rosen, “Empathy and Aggression in Torah Study: Analysis of a Talmudic
Description of Havruta Learning,” in In Wisdom from All My Teachers: Challenges and
28
44
particularly noticeable in the distinctions made between the scholars of Babylonia and
those of Eretz Yisrael.30 Notwithstanding this caveat, the thrust of the Bavli’s idealized
pedagogy is clearly one of collective improvement that pushes for scholars to lift each
other up in their learning,31 and to treat each other with honour, dignity, and respect.32
Likewise, while the relationship between a student and teacher is a serious one based
on honour, respect, and the gravity of the learning material, generally speaking, it is
distinctly intimate and supportive.33 The Bavli discusses (a) the approach to finding a
teacher,34 (b) the general respect that a student should display,35 as well as (c) the
student’s responsibilities to their teacher’s status qua teacher.36 Attention is notably paid
to (d) how students should be physically present (their proximity, to where they should
direct their attention, and when they should journey to be with their teacher).37 The Bavli
also addresses (e) the unique ways in which students help and benefit their teachers,38 and
Initiatives in Contemporary Torah Education, (Eds. Susan Handelman and Jeffery Saks;
Jerusalem: Urim Press, 2003), 249-263.
30
bShab. 145b; bPes. 34b; bYoma 57a; bMeg. 28b; bB. Kam. 118a-b, bB. Metz. 33a-b,
85a; bSanh. 24a; bMen. 52a
31
bShab. 63a; bTa’an. 7a, 7b-8a; bHag. 3b
32
bShab. 34a; bPes. 118b-119a; bMeg. 28a; bB. Metz. 33a-b; bSanh. 24a; bHor. 13a
33
Beyond the material referred to here, see also the concept of a – רב מובהקone’s primary
teacher – and the requisite honour due to them. See pg. 119-120, and also: bKid. 33a;
bSot. 46b; bSanh. 68a, and the תלמיד חברrelationship (bBer. 27b; bEruv. 63a; bB. Bat.
158b)
34
bEruv. 47a-b, 53a, 55a; bHag. 15a-b; bMo’ed Qat. 17a; bB. Metz. 33a-b; bAZ 19a-b;
bHor. 14a
35
bBer. 7b, 63b; bYoma 78a; bHag. 5a; bMo’ed Qat. 25a; bYev. 105b; bKid. 25a, 30a;
bB. Kam. 117a-b; bB. Bat. 75a; bSanh. 99b, 100a; bHor. 13b-14a
36
bEruv. 63a; bTa’an. 9a-b; bPes. 108a; bYoma 53a; bRosh. 31b; bYev. 96b, 97a; bSanh.
90b, 100a; bBech. 31b
37
bBer. 27b-28a, 62a; bEruv. 28b; bPes. 117a; bYoma 37a, 53a-b; bSuk. 10b, 26a, 27b;
bRosh. 16b; bMeg. 28a; bHag. 5b; bKid. 33a-b; bSot. 46b; bB. Metz. 59b; bSanh. 68a;
bHor. 12a, 13b; bHul. 91a; bKer. 6a
38
bTa’an. 7a; bB. Metz. 97a
45
the (f) expectation that they not act as passive learners, but as active questioners and
challengers.39
This intimacy among students and teachers does not come without expense. In
discussing the relationship between students and others, the Bavli notes the tendency of
students to neglect other relationships for the sake of study, and warns of the implications
of doing so.40 Attention is also paid to the general community’s obligations to support
scholars financially, arguing that those who support others in study are honoured as
though they, themselves, have studied.41
A significant body of material is spent on painting the contours of these relationships,
giving us the distinct sense that the Bavli views learning not as a solitary effort,42 nor as
an endeavour between two arbitrary parties. We see an emphasis on learners not being
empty vessels to be filled,43 but as human beings with three-dimensional characteristics,
deserving careful attention. For the Bavli, there is thus no one-size-fits-all approach to
being a student and learning.44
39
See also the role of questioning, in section four of this chapter, pg. 51.
bBer. 22a; bEruv. 21b-22a; bKet. 61b-63a
41
bShab. 114a, 151b; bPes 53b; bYoma 72b; bKet. 11b; bB. Bat. 21a; bSanh. 92a, 99a
42
See the debate on this at bBer. 6a; bEruv. 55a; bMeg. 3a-b, 29a; bTa’an. 7a; bMak.
10a; bAZ 17b-18a)
43
Indeed, the Bavli specifically notes that if learners are compared to empty vessels, they
are an entirely different conception of vessel, one which bends the laws of physics (at
least, metaphorically): Normally, a vessel needs to be empty to fill it. But the divine
understanding of education is different, and God is said to fill with knowledge only those
who are already full, and that those who are empty will not be filled at all (bSuk. 46a-b).
44
See more on this at pg. 106, where we gain a sense of the Bavli’s own approach to
what we now call individualized instruction.
40
46
תלמוד תורה כנגד כולםTHE STUDY OF TORAH IS EQUAL TO THEM ALL:45
THE VALUE OF BEING A LEARNER
In two sugyas discussing the value of performing various mitzvot and the
accompanying reward in this world and the World-to-Come, we find the famous
Tanaaitic aphorism “תלמוד תורה כנגד כולם,” noting that the study of Torah is equal in
weight to these other prime mitzvot.46 Elsewhere, the Bavli lists other rewards for
studying,47 and argues the extent to which one should go to study Torah48 (perhaps as far
as risking one’s life).49 In articulating the supreme value of study, the Bavli also dwells
on how much time one should dedicate to study,50 paying particular attention to the
merits of arriving early and departing late from the beit midrash, and of awakening early
and going to bed late, so as to maximize the time available for learning.51 While the text
clearly valorizes learning as among the most noble of pursuits, it is not unequivocal in
this matter. “How much is too much?” is a question also picked up by the text. Debates
abound as to just how much studying is incumbent upon students (e.g. are you permitted
to leave the beit midrash early?52 When and for what reasons is it appropriate to interrupt
45
BShab. 127a, bKid. 40a
bShab. 127a, bKid. 40a
47
bBer. 6b and Rashi ad loc; bPes. 22b; bHag. 3a; bAZ 19a-b; bMen. 29b
48
bYoma 22b, 77b; bEruv. 47a-b; bNed. 8a; bSot. 21b; bKid. 40b; bB. Qam. 113a
49
bAZ 17b-18a
50
bBer. 16b-17a, 18b; bEruv 54a-55b; bShab. 119b; bPes. 110a, 113a; bYoma 19b;
bBeitz 24b; bTa’an. 21a; bMeg. 29a; bHag. 5a, 9a-b; bNed. 32a; bSot. 10a, 49a-b; bKid.
30a; bAZ 19b
51
For more on the Bavli’s degree of devotion to learning, see: bBer. 64a; bShab. 127a;
bEruv. 18b, 21b-22a; bSuk 28a; bBeitz. 15b; bTa’an. 21a; 31a; bMeg. 3a-b, 15b, 27b;
bNed. 8a; bB. Bat. 10a; bAZ 3b
52
bTa’an. 21a; bSuk. 28a; bBeitz. 15b
46
47
Torah study?53) and whether other pursuits are permitted or might even be endorsed (e.g.
are you permitted to leave your studies to earn a living?).54
Notwithstanding this debate, there is a scarlet thread running through the Bavli’s
emphasis on the significance of learning: it is relevant not only for its practical usage
(e.g. learning how to fulfill mitzvot), its intellectual value (e.g. learning how to discern
the reasoning behind various halakhot), or for fulfilling ideological commitments (i.e.
that education is seen as an intrinsically noble endeavour), but also for its transcendent,
eternal value. In a plethora of sugyas, learning and education are said to have something
akin to a cosmic impact upon the learners, the teachers, and human existence itself. For
the rabbis, the “world of learning,” and the actual physical world were coextensive, and,
as Rubenstein notes, learning “played a critical role in the structure of the universe.”55
Here, there is a uniquely Jewish ritualization to the Bavli’s approach to learning.
Torah study is said to offer spiritual protection and redemption,56 make immanent God’s
presence,57 bring about supernal and earthly peace,58 and bring particular honour in the
world-to-come.59 Indeed, for the Bavli, this extends beyond being simply a metaphor to
convey the depth of seriousness with which learning is approached; the very existence of
the world hinges upon there being students engaged in the act of learning.60
53
bShab. 119b; bPes 110a; bYoma 19b; bMeg. 29a; bNed. 32a; bSot. 10a
bBer. 16b-17a, 18b; bPes. 113a; bTa’an. 21a; bSot. 49a-b
55
Rubenstein, The Culture of the Babylonian Talmud, 31.
56
bBer. 8a; bShab. 119b; bEruv. 53b; bMeg. 28a; Mo’ed Qat. 28; bKid. 29b, 30b;
bMak.10a
57
bBer. 6a, 8a; bYoma 28b; bSuk. 28a; bHag. 5b; bTem. 16a
58
bBer. 64a; bSanh. 99b; bKer. 28b
59
bShab. 127a; bHag. 15a-b; bMo’ed Qat. 29a; bKid. 39b-40a; bB. Metz. 33a; bSanh.
91b-92a, 99a-101a; bAZ 3b
60
bShab. 114a, 119b; bTa’an. 4a; bSanh. 99b and Rashi ad loc
54
48
Moshe Idel characterizes this approach to study as a form of “performative
religiosity,” where practical knowledge is not the ultimate goal of learning, rather
learning in and of itself is a transformative experience, reaching beyond the intellectual
level.61 Susan Handelman argues that this paradigm – which I describe as an orientation
to learning that is intrinsically Jewish – has been marginalized from most contemporary
Jewish education, in part due to the impact of the German intellectual culture out of
which academic Jewish studies were born.62 Aware of this, it raises a question for those
engaged in the study and teaching of Talmud as to where, how, and if this lacuna should
be addressed.
While the Bavli’s lack of a uniform pedagogy has been raised, the relative
consistency with which the text raises questions regarding the identity of learners, their
conduct, and the value of learning is nonetheless also notable.
עשה אזניך כאפרכסת וקנה לך לב מביןMAKE YOUR EARS LIKE A FUNNEL,
AND ACQUIRE AN UNDERSTANDING HEART: 63
PRACTICAL APPROACHES TO LEARNING
It would be challenging to distill an all-encompassing “how-to” guide to Talmudic
learning that maintains internal consistency, however we can note five areas where the
Bavli focuses its attention with regularity and intensity:
Broadly speaking, when it comes to the act of learning, the Talmud is concerned with
(a) memorization and preventing forgetting,64 even going so far as to record the opinion
61
Susan Handelman, Make Yourself a Teacher, 5.
Susan Handelman, Make Yourself a Teacher, 5.
63
bHag. 3b
64
bShab. 90b; bPes. 49a; bMeg. 28b; bAZ 19a-b; bHor 13b-14a; bMen. 99a-b
62
49
of Reish Lakish, who suggested that forgetting one word of studies transgresses a
negative commandment in the Torah.65 This is an unsurprising concern, given the oral
nature of Mishnaic learning.66 In response to this unease, the text (b) exhorts learners ad
nauseam to review their studies.67
This review (and all learning) demands (c) a rigorous, indeed a strenuous, dedication
to learning.68 The Bavli expounds the degree of intensity with which one is meant to
approach their studies with gravitas, marshalling intense metaphors and hyperbole to
emphasize the arduous dedication mandated for Torah study: one should physically exert
one’s entire body in studying Torah,69 even symbolically “killing” oneself over Torah,70
and one should also devote considerable emotional resources for the sake of study.71 In
places, this physical and emotional toil is cast in militaristic imagery, painting scholars –
even fathers and sons – as warring over their respective interpretations.72 Troubling as
this hawkish tone may be, in one visionary example, the Bavli insists that these
65
bMen. 99a-b
Hirshman notes how orality is not a means to an end to prevent forgetting, but that the
sages saw Torah learning as an intrinsically speech-based process, mirroring God’s use of
speech to enact the twin process of creation and revelation. (Hirshman, Stabilization of
Rabbinic Culture, 21, 26). See also bBer. 15b, 16b-17a; bEruv. 53b-54a
67
bBer. 5a; bEruv 54a-b; bSuk. 29a; bTa’an. 7b-8a; bMeg 32a; bHag. 9b; bNed. 41a;
bKid. 13a, 30a; bB. Qam. 38a, 117a-b; bSanh. 99a-101a; bAZ 19a-b and Rashi ad loc;
bHor. 12a; bKer. 6a
68
bShab. 147b; bSuk. 28a; bMeg. 28b; bSot. 21b; bKid. 33a; bSanh. 99b
69
bBer 63b; bEruv. 21b-22a, 53b-54a, 55a; bMeg. 28b; bKet. 50a; bB. Metz. 84a, Rashi
ad loc; bSanh. 24a, 99a-100a, 100b; bHor. 14a
70
bBer. 63b; bShab 83b
71
bBer. 5a, 22a; bTa’an. 4a, 7a; bHag. 14a; bMo’ed Qat. 15a; bSot 21b; bGit. 43a
72
bBer. 27b-28a; bMeg. 15b; bKid. 30b; See also Rubenstein, Culture of the Babylonian
Talmud, 61-64.
66
50
“enemies” in study “do not leave their studies until they love one another:” “ואינם זזים
משם עד שנעשים אוהבים זה את זה.”73
The direction of this intensity (d) is also a consistent matter of enquiry for the
Talmud: Should the approach to learning be on understanding law as it is intended to be
practiced ()הלכה, or on the logic and reasoning underlying that law ()סברא.74 This
pedagogical makhloket is also framed as being between a broad appreciation of the canon
( )ביקיותand an incisive, in-depth analysis of the texts in study ()בעיון,75 or between
extensive recitation of text ( )מגרסand intensive speculation ()עיוני.76 Put another way, this
mirrors the introductory “debate” in this thesis between the geonim – who had a broad
and memorized grasp of sources – and the ability of Rabbi Gabriel Negrin to ask “Rabbi
Google” specialized questions in matters of halakhah. For the Bavli, this debate reflects
questions as to the very identity of students: are they to be seen as repositories for
practical knowledge, or as intellectual beings with distinct personalities and opinions?
Both approaches – the general and the specialized – are seen as having merits; both
approaches bring one closer to the sacred material being studied. But agonizingly, while
staking out competing claims, the Bavli leaves this particular debate unresolved.77
Perhaps it is unresolved due to the tension that Kanarek and Lehman observe within the
Bavli, between “the development of critical thinking skills and the commitment to the
authority of a tradition.”78 How one navigates this tension, then, relies on both the
73
bKid. 30b
bBer. 6b; bEruv. 60a; bSot. 21b-22a; bAZ 19a-b; bHor. 13b-14a and Rashi ad loc;
bZev 96b
75
bBer. 63b; bAZ 19a-b; bHor. 13b-14a
76
bSuk. 29a, bAZ 19a-b. See also Hirshman, Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 118.
77
bHor. 14a
78
Kanarek and Lehman, “Talmud: Making a Case for Talmud Pedagogy,” 585.
74
51
cultivation of the critical thinking skills detailed above, as well as a “sense of reverence
for tradition that is crucial to strong Jewish identity.”79 I suggest that finding a balance
between these two poles is not just a historical concern of the Amoraim or Stamaaim, but
should be a present concern for all those committed to teaching Jewish thought and
practice.
Central to navigating this tension for the Bavli is (e) the role of questioning. The
Bavli encourages students to ask questions,80 even to point out their teachers’ errors,81
though does also interrogate if this approach is appropriate at all times.82
These five strands seem to be the most concrete things we can say about the
Talmud’s practical approach to the act of learning. While there is significant debate, and
thus not a singular pedagogy embedded within the five, when woven together, they
present a cohesive image of the orientation one should bring to the act of learning:
a. A concern for retaining the material
b. The importance of review
c. The rigour demanded of study
d. An awareness that study has to be oriented both broadly toward practical
implications, and narrowly, toward theoretical inquiry
e. The use of questioning as a tool in service of learning
79
Kanarek and Lehman, “Talmud: Making a Case for Talmud Pedagogy,” 585.
bBer. 63b; bShab. 49a; bMo’ed Qat. 5a-b; bB. Qam. 17a-b, 117a-b
81
bMo’ed Qat. 5a-b; bB. Metz. 44a, 84a; bSanh. 6b; bShev. 31a
82
bHag. 13a; bNaz 59b; bKid. 30a, 52b
80
52
Elsewhere, the Bavli addresses other practical matters relating to learning,
including the makeup of the learners (learning alone or in a group),83 the attention and
focus required of learners,84 whether learners should sit or stand while learning,85 and the
openness to dissent one should cultivate.86
What emerges out of this material is a sense of the student as a distinct Jewish
identity – not merely a descriptor of one who goes to school, but of a specific kind of
person with defined attributes, desired behaviours, and a devoted relationship to an
eternal project of great worth. Of course, there is plenty of debate as to the exact
boundaries of these definitions (may women or non-Jews study? May one leave one’s
studies to engage in professional work? Which is the preferable mode of learning –
jurisprudential process, or halakhic outcome?), however the Bavli sustains an orientation
around them, contributing to the primacy of student as identity. While there is a diversity
of answers, there is a consistency of questions.
In the next chapter, we can see how the Bavli takes up these questions and
robustly examines the nature of being a student through a case study of an extended
sugya in masekhet Sanhedrin.
83
bBer. 6a; bEruv. 55a; bTa’an. 7a; bMeg. 3a-b, 15b, 29a; bHag. 3b, 11b; bAZ 17b-18a;
bMak. 10a
84
bBer. 63a; bEruv. 60a, 64a-5a; bTa’an. 4a; bB. Metz. 33a-b; bSanh. 99a-100a; bAZ
19a-b
85
bMeg. 21a
86
bHag. 3b
53
CHAPTER 4
“נינהו
”כולהו גופי דרופתקי
“ALL HUMAN BEINGS ARE LETTER CARRIERS FOR GOD:”1
A CASE STUDY ON THE STUDENT IDENTITY
(SANHEDRIN 99a-101a)
1
bSanh. 99b
54
The eleventh perek of masekhet Sanhedrin (90a-113b) concerns the question of
those who do and do not merit a share in Olam HaBa (the World-to-Come). The tractate
outlines categories of people who do not merit such a place, as well as heretical
behaviour (word and deed) that precludes one from being rewarded with a place in the
afterlife.2 Within this discussion is an extended treatment (folios 99a-101a) of the role of
students and their approach to learning. By including a sustained focus on learning in this
particular perek, the Bavli suggests the critical degree to which this enterprise is held: it is
an endeavour of importance not only to the individual and the community, but to the
entire ontology of rabbinic Judaism; in the rabbinic mindset, it extends beyond the earthly
lifespan, and has transcendent implications.
Our sugya also addresses areas not related to education, as well as related foci that
are not explicitly about the student, including appropriate learning material, the role of
the teacher, and the value of education at large. Together, this sugya paints a vivid picture
of the student as one engaged in an identity-shaping process of paramount importance
which demands an assiduous focus and reverence. But this is not a cold, text-book
approach to education. The Bavli here also speaks poetically, addressing the entire scope
of the human condition: giving birth, entering into the Jewish covenant, raising children,
finding God, and contending with death. It contextualizes learning in a remarkably
humane way, impressing upon the reader the sense that learning matters, and that one
should want to be a part of this sacred community.
Before we dive into the text in detail, it is helpful to sketch an outline of this
2
For more on the place of Olam HaBa in rabbinic thought, see Max Kadushin, “The
Rabbinic Mind,” Index, s.v. Olam ha-Ba; World to Come. (New York: Block, 1972).
55
extended sugya. Our text can be divided into eight major sections:
1. A collection of baraitot attempting to define the category of “ – ”דבר ה׳ בזהone
who despises the word of God3
2. A focus on retaining one’s studies
3. An injunction against teaching flawed interpretations
4. A series of Amoraic and Tanaaitic statements developing the theme of the value
of education
5. Makhlokot on defining the categories of ( אפיקורוסheretic) and ( מגלה פנים בתורהone
who interprets Torah incorrectly)
6. A focus on those who will be rewarded with a place in Olam HaBa, including
those who labour intensely over their studies
7. A treatment of ( ספרים החיצוניםexternal literature) – inappropriate learning material
8. A discussion of different categories of scholars based on their subject of expertise,
and of the emotional impact of their scholarship
SECTION 1
דבר ה׳ בזה: ONE WHO DESPISES THE WORD OF GOD
לא( כי דבר ה' בזה ומצותו הפר הכרת, תנו רבנן )במדבר טו:'והאומר אין תורה מן השמים וכו
.תכרת זה האומר אין תורה מן השמים ד"א כי דבר ה' בזה זה אפיקורוס
ד"א כי דבר ה' בזה זה המגלה פנים בתורה ואת מצותו הפר זה המפר ברית בשר הכרת תכרת
הכרת בעולם הזה תכרת לעולם הבא מכאן אמר רבי אליעזר המודעי המחלל את הקדשים והמבזה
את המועדות והמפר בריתו של אברהם אבינו והמגלה פנים בתורה שלא כהלכה והמלבין פני
.חבירו ברבים אף על פי שיש בידו תורה ומעשים טובים אין לו חלק לעולם הבא
תניא אידך כי דבר ה' בזה זה האומר אין תורה מן השמים ואפילו אמר כל התורה כולה מן השמים
חוץ מפסוק זה שלא אמרו הקדוש ברוך הוא אלא משה מפי עצמו זהו כי דבר ה' בזה ואפילו אמר
.כל התורה כולה מן השמים חוץ מדקדוק זה מקל וחומר זה מגזרה שוה זו זה הוא כי דבר ה' בזה
3
Num. 15:31
56
תניא היה רבי מאיר אומר הלומד תורה ואינו מלמדה זה הוא דבר ה' בזה רבי נתן אומר כל מי
.שאינו משגיח על המשנה ר' נהוראי אומר כל שאפשר לעסוק בתורה ואינו עוסק
רבי ישמעאל אומר זה העובד עבודת כוכבים מאי משמעה דתנא דבי ר' ישמעאל כי דבר ה' בזה
ב( אנכי ה' אלהיך לא יהיה לך אלהים אחרים,זה המבזה דבור שנאמר לו למשה מסיני )שמות כ
.'וגו
(Among those who have no share in the World-to-Come include): One who
says: Torah [did] not [originate] from Heaven. The Sages taught [that the
verse]: “Because he has despised the word of the Eternal and has violated
God’s commandment; that person shall be cut off” (Num. 15:31), this is a
reference to one who says: Torah [did] not [originate] from Heaven.
Alternatively, [one can say]: “Because he has despised the word of the Lord”;
this [refers to] an apikoros.
Another interpretation: “Because he has despised the word of the Eternal”
[refers to] one who interprets the Torah inappropriately. “And has breached
God’s commandment” [refers to] one who breaches the covenant of flesh. (In
the phrase) “Shall be excised (hikkaret tikkaret),” “hikkaret” [refers to being
excised] in this world; “tikkaret” [refers to being excised] from the World-toCome. From here Rabbi Elazar HaModa’i says: “One who desecrates
consecrated [items], one who treats the Festivals with contempt, one who
breaches the covenant of Abraham our forefather, one who reveals aspects in
the Torah that are not according to halakhah, and one who humiliates another
in public – even if they have to their credit Torah [study] and good deeds – they
have no share in the World-to-Come.
It is taught [in] another [baraita]: “Because he has despised the word of the
Lord”; this is a reference to one who says Torah [did] not [originate] from
Heaven. And even if one says the entire Torah [originated] from Heaven
except for this [one] verse, [suggesting] that the Holy Blessed One did not say
it but Moses [said it] on his own, this [person] is [included in the category
of]: “Because he has despised the word of the Eternal.” And even if one says
the entire Torah [originated] from Heaven except for this inference [or
except] for this a fortiori [inference], or except for this verbal analogy, this
[person] is [included in the category of]: “Because he has despised the word of
the Lord.”
It is taught [that] Rabbi Meir would say: one who studies Torah and does not
teach it – this [person] is [included in the category of]: “He has despised the
word of the Eternal,” Rabbi Natan says: Anyone who does not pay attention to
the Mishna [is included in this category]. Rabbi Nehorai says: Anyone
for whom it is possible to engage in Torah but does not engage [is included in
this category].
57
Rabbi Yishmael says: This [verse: “Because he has despised the word of the
Eternal,” refers to] an idol worshipper. [From] where [in the verse is that]
inferred? [From a verse] that the school of Rabbi Yishmael taught: “Because
he has despised the word [devar] of the Eternal”; this [refers] to one who treats
a statement [dibbur] that was stated to Moses at Sinai with contempt: “I am the
Eternal your God…You shall have no other gods” (Ex. 20:2–3).4
Our sugya opens with a callback to the Mishnah, focusing on the idea that one who
says the Torah is not min hashamayim (did not originate from heaven, i.e. is not of divine
authorship) will not receive a place in Olam HaBa. The baraita brings a verse from
Numbers regarding one who “despises the word of the Eternal,”5 and introduces a
number of interpretations of what constitutes a דבר ה׳ בזה: (a) one who says the Torah is
not min hashamayim, (b) an אפיקורוס, and (c) מגלה פנים בתור.6 The baraita continues with
an intriguing connection between the mitzvah of brit milah, and the biblical verse: “הכרת
תכרת.” It is significant that here, upholding the sanctity of Torah and an appropriate
method of Torah study is juxtaposed with brit milah. The role of milah as a foundational
religious obligation, and a prime identity marker of Jews carries great weight here. It
perhaps suggests that just as milah plays a crucial role in determining one’s religious
identity (and thus membership in a community associated with various obligation), so too
does (proper) Torah study. Both are religious obligations, and both are signifiers of a
covenantal relationship.
The Bavli continues to flesh out this theme, as the baraita concludes with an
enumeration attributed to R’ Elazar HaModa’i of other improper acts which remove one
from a place in Olam HaBa: (a) rendering ritual objects impure, (b) treating intermediate
4
bSanh. 99a
Num. 15:31
6
See pg. 74-81 for an examination of the category of מגלה פנים בתורה.
5
58
festival days with contempt, (c) breaching the covenant with Abraham, (d) revealing
aspects of Torah not in accordance with halakhah, and (e) humiliating another in public.
There is a holistic nature to this list, covering ritual matters of space and time,
interpersonal relations, religious covenant, and proper learning. Just as earlier, study here
is portrayed in the same category as ritual and covenantal obligations, giving a distinct
impression of learning as a sacred, particularistic task.
It is significant that this discussion is found within a wider focus on the World-toCome. While elsewhere, the question of heretical behaviour or inappropriate learning is
treated from a more pragmatic paradigm (for example, what kind of learning is not
permitted within the beit midrash),7 here the conversation is treated from a spiritual
paradigm: a student who follows the rules of appropriate study is part of a covenant of
learners and teachers; should they violate this code, they are expunged not just from a
classroom or from the physical community, but from a sacred, eternal community – the
very community to which the mishnah in question suggests all of Israel has a portion.8
Importantly, this baraita concludes with a caveat: “אף על פי שיש בידו תורה ומעשים
– ”טובים אין לו חלק לעולם הבאEven if one has to their credit Torah [study] and good deeds,
they have no share in Olam HaBa. For R’ Elazar, while learning Torah is required, it is
not sufficient; this short baraita emphasizes the identity associated with Torah study, and
suggests that one who studies inappropriately is outside of the normative bounds of the
community.
A second baraita further refines the argument that a דבר ה׳ בזהis one who says the
7
8
See pg. 160-161, and 188.
bSanh. 90a
59
Torah is not from heaven, now including even someone who says only one verse is not of
divine origin, or one who says the interpretations of the rabbis are not of divine origin.
The third baraita, which concludes this section, mirrors the first. We read four
sequential statements articulating who is a דבר ה׳ בזה: (a) one who studies Torah and
doesn’t teach it to others, (b) one who doesn’t pay enough attention to learning Mishnah,
(c) one who can but does not study Torah, and (d) an ( עובד כוכביםidol worshiper). As in
the first baraita, three statements detailing inappropriate learning are followed by a
matter of ritual or religious significance. R’ Meir’s statement regarding one who studies
Torah but does not teach is notable, as it emphasizes the connection between studying
and teaching: both acts are linguistically, philosophically, and pedagogically intertwined.9
Within this baraita is another indicator of the religious significance of study: while
R’ Meir’s uses the phrase “הלומד תורה,” (to learn Torah), R’ Nehorai uses the phrase
“( ”לעסוק בתורהto busy oneself/occupy oneself with Torah). Is this a subtle, yet intentional
reference to the blessing for Torah study ()לעסוק בדברי תורה10 further highlighting the
ritualization of study?
Apropos ritual, in both the first and third baraitot, the ritual matter (milah and idol
worship) is also one of identity, articulating who is in and who is out. Improper education
is portrayed in one case as being on the same level as not being inside the Israelite
covenant via milah, and in another case as being outside the covenant due to idol
worship. This is a stark definition of the boundaries of Jewish peoplehood in the minds of
the rabbis.
9
10
See pg. 34, n23.
bBer. 11b
60
SECTION 2
RETAINING ONE’S STUDIES
The second thematic section picks up from within the third baraita previously
addressed, but switches focus to develop the idea of retaining one’s studies. Two short
but highly evocative sub-sections here make notable use of metaphor and simile to educe
the need for students to actively engage in this task:
רבי יהושע בן קרחה אומר כל הלומד תורה ואינו חוזר עליה דומה לאדם שזורע ואינו קוצר רבי
.יהושע אומר כל הלומד תורה ומשכחה דומה לאשה שיולדת וקוברת
רבי עקיבא אומר זמר בכל יום זמר בכל יום אמר רב יצחק בר אבודימי מאי קרא שנאמר )משלי
. כו( נפש עמל עמלה לו כי אכף עליו פיהו הוא עמל במקום זה ותורתו עומלת לו במקום אחר,טז
ז( כי אדם לעמל יולד איני יודע אם לעמל,אמר רבי אלעזר כל אדם לעמל נברא שנאמר )איוב ה
פה נברא אם לעמל מלאכה נברא כשהוא אומר כי אכף עליו פיהו הוי אומר לעמל פה נברא ועדיין
ח( לא ימוש ספר התורה הזה,איני יודע אם לעמל תורה אם לעמל שיחה כשהוא אומר )יהושע א
מפיך הוי אומר לעמל תורה נברא והיינו דאמר רבא כולהו גופי דרופתקי נינהו טובי לדזכי דהוי
.דרופתקי דאורייתא
, לב( ונואף אשה חסר לב אמר ריש לקיש זה הלומד תורה לפרקים שנאמר )משלי כב,)משלי ו
.יח( כי נעים כי תשמרם בבטנך יכונו יחדיו על שפתיך
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korha says: Anyone who studies Torah and does not
review it is comparable to a person who sows and does not reap. Rabbi
Yehoshua says: Anyone who studies Torah and forget it is similar to a woman
who gives birth and buries [her newborn child].
Rabbi Akiva says: Sing every day, sing every day. Rav Yitzhak bar Avudimi
says: [From] what verse [is this derived?] As it is says: “The hunger of the
labourer labours for him; for his mouth presses upon him.” (Prov. 16:26) One
labours in this place, and their Torah labors for them in another place.
Rabbi Elazar says: Every person was created for labor, as it is stated: “Humans
are born for toil” (Job 5:7). I do not know whether he was created for toil of
the mouth, whether he was created for the toil of labor. When [the verse] states:
“For his mouth presses upon him” (Prov. 16:26), you must say he was created
for toil of the mouth. And still I do not know whether it is for the toil of Torah
or for the toil of conversation. When [the verse] states: “This Torah scroll shall
not depart from your mouth” (Joshua 1:8), you must say that he was created
for the toil of Torah. And that is [the meaning of] what Rava said: All bodies
61
are like receptacles. Happy is one who is privileged, who is a receptacle for
Torah.
“He who commits adultery with a woman lacks understanding” (Prov. 6:32)
Reish Lakish says: This is [refers to] one who studies Torah intermittently, as
it is stated [about Torah:] “For it is a pleasant thing if you keep them within
your belly; let them be established on your lips”. (Prov. 22:18)11
The first sub-section presents three Tanaaitic statements on two of the key
educational concerns of the Bavli we noted earlier: a fear of forgetting knowledge, and
the role of review in mitigating this.12 “Anyone who studies but does not review is like a
person who sows (seeds) but does not reap (the harvest),” says R’ Yehoshua ben Korha,
in the first statement. This agricultural motif also appears elsewhere,13 and emphasizes
the idea that while learning does have practical, immediate purposes, the long-term
implications must also be considered.
The second statement reflects a similar future-orientation, with R’ Yehoshua
arguing that one who forgets one’s studies is like a woman who gives birth and then
buries her new child. The jarring jump from the comparatively tame agrarian imagery of
the first statement to the disturbing imagery here of infanticide masks a more sublime
message: forgetting one’s studies is like cutting off a creative part of oneself that was
meant to flourish.14 The motif associating education and pregnancy15 further develops the
idea that learning, for the Bavli, is not simply lifelong (birth to death), but existence-long:
11
bSanh. 99a-b
By way of example, Reish Lakish was said to individually review his studies forty
times before learning with his teacher. (bTa’an. 8a)
13
bEruv. 54a-b; bTa’an. 4a; bHag. 3b
14
Hirshman playfully calls forgetfulness “the great nemesis of the oral tradition.”
(Hirshman, Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 53).
15
bSanh. 91-92a; bAZ 19b; bNid. 30b
12
62
it is portrayed as an endeavour that can take place in utero,16 as well as one that extends
into the afterlife.17 The Bavli here, drawing on a parallel source from Tosefta Ahilot 16:8,
presents scholars from multiple generations “reflecting on the evanescence of learning,”18
and emphasizes the need to labour to preserve one’s studies. The stakes are grave:
knowledge has a liveliness to it, and forgetting it is akin to removing it from existence,
what Marc Hirshman describes as burying and eradicating the fertility of learning.19
Contemporary Jewish institutions and movements across the entire religious
spectrum often refer to the notion of “Lifelong Jewish Learning,”20 as providing
consistent educational opportunities at all stages of life, but here, we see the
expansiveness of how the Talmud treats this approach to learning. Thus, the power of R’
Yehoshua’s statement becomes clearer: forgetting one’s studies is not merely a logistical
or temporary matter to be resolved by later remembering what was forgotten, it is an
interruption in one of the foundational components of human existence.
The connection between the first two statements now becomes clearer: agriculture
and human procreation are both necessary tasks for the continuation of human existence.
16
bNid. 30b
That this statement appears within a wider discourse on meriting a place in Olam Haba
adds weight to this concept. See extensive comments earlier on the relationship of
learning with Olam Haba.
18
Hirschman, Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 27
19
Hirschman, Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 28.
20
See, for example, the Union for Reform Judaism’s 1999 Resolution on “Lifelong
Jewish Learning” (https://urj.org/what-we-believe/resolutions/lifelong-jewish-learning);
the Conservative Movement’s Rabbinical Assembly 2003 Resolution on “Continuing
Learning” (https://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/resolution-continuing-learning); Chabad
of Stamford’s “Lifelong Learning Division”
(http://www.mysaje.org/templates/articlecco_cdo/aid/983673/jewish/About-Us.htm); or
non-denominational congregation B’nai Jeshurun’s statements and initiatives on Lifelong
Learning (http://www.bj.org/learning).
17
63
Both require a creative vision beyond the immediate present, and both demand an active
presence on the part of the farmer/parent. Linguistically, they are also related, with the
term זרעmeaning both a botanical seed, as well as semen. We see here a poignant
example of how, for the Bavli, a learner is not just a student in a classroom acquiring
knowledge, but one engaged in a more transcendent project. The comparison, then, of
learning to these endeavours is apt: not retaining one’s studies is akin to putting the effort
into creating life, and then not following through on cultivating and reaping that vitality.
The pedagogical solution is an almost fanatical dedication to review. We saw the
importance of this earlier for R’ Yehosha ben Korha, and this idea is now poetically
reinforced in the third statement through R’ Akiva’s doubled metaphor: “ זמר,זמר בכל יום
( ”בכל יוםsing every day, sing every day). Rashi comments on this, teaching that the
meaning is to review one’s studies as if they were a song; arranging them like lyrics in
the appropriate order in one’s head.21 A proof-text from Proverbs adds heft to the
existence-long (both this corporeal world, and the next) educational trope running
through this argument: “( ”נפש עמל עמלה לו כי אכף עליו פיהוThe hunger of the labourer
labours for him; for his mouth presses upon him).22 The gemara interprets this proverb to
mean “( ”הוא עמל במקום זה ותורתו עומלת לו במקום אחרhe labours over Torah in this world,
and Torah labours over him in another world (i.e. Olam HaBa).
A statement attributed to R’ Elazar emphasizes this role of labour, bringing a
proof-text from Job: “( ”כי אדם לעמל יולדFor man is born for toil).23 The Bavli seems
keenly aware here of the power of metaphor. Note again the birth/pregnancy imagery, as
21
Rashi on bSanh. 99b, s.v. זמר בכל יום
Prov. 16:26
23
Job 5:7
22
64
the gemara interrogates the specific type of labour: is it physical labour or is it the
metaphoric labour of speech? And if a metaphor, is it about Torah study, or normal
conversation?24 With a text from Joshua – “”לא ימוש ספר התורה הזה מפיך25 (this Torah
scroll shall not depart from your mouth) – the gemara concludes that indeed, the labour
referred to here is that of Torah study, and that humans were born to toil over Torah
()לעמל תורה נברא. The Bavli associates this argument with a statement from Rava: “ כולהו
. טובי לדזכי דהוי דרופתקי דאורייתא.( ”גופי דרופתקי נינהוAll bodies are like darufitkei. Happy is
the one who is privileged, who is a darufitkei for Torah). The term ( דרופתקיdarufitkei) is
commonly translated as “receptacle,” perhaps an unsurprising metaphor given the
Tanaaitic focus on rote memorization. But Rava is a fourth generation Babylonian
Amora, who would not be satisfied with an approach to learning that amounted solely to
filling up a receptacle with knowledge. Unpacking the meaning of the term will help us
determine the kind of learning that Rava is speaking about, and its close connection to the
other metaphors in this section of the sugya.
דרופתקיis a compound word, combining “to carry” and “a bag for official
documents,”26 thus a translation that better captures the nuances of this statement might
be: “All human beings are letter-carriers for God,” or as Marcus Jastrow translates: “All
human bodies are mail bags carrying the decrees of the Lord.”27 Thus, describing a
student as a דרופתקיrelates not to the passive filling of a receptacle, but to a process
24
One wonders, here, what it is about – שיחהconversation – that the rabbis find would
find laborious, given their oral verbosity.
25
Josh. 1:8
26
Marcus Jastrow, “A Dictionary of the Targumim, The Talmud Babli and Yerhushalmi,
and the Midrashic Literature.” (New York: The Judaica Press, Inc., 1992), 322, s.v.
דרופתקי. See also mShab 10:4.
27
Jastrow, “Dictionary of the Talmud,” 322 s.v. דרופתקי.
65
entailing the active participation of the learner: the words must be received, but they must
also be delivered and acted upon. Note here the implicit connection made to R’ Meir’s
earlier statement regarding one who studies Torah and does not teach it to others.
This section concludes with a comment from Reish Lakish that one who studies
intermittently is like an adulterer. Why the adultery simile? This hearkens back to R’
Yehoshua’s statement concerning killing a newborn child: committing adultery is viewed
rabbinically as criminally akin to murder.28 It is also an interruption of a desired and
sacred process (human life in the earlier statement, and marriage here). Of course, the
connection between marriage and birth is also pointed. Here, the argument is that one
who is not regular in one’s studies – jumping from focus to focus – is like one who jumps
from sexual partner to sexual partner. Both are unfaithful to a covenantal relationship. As
proof of his argument, Reish Lakish brings the following text from Proverbs: “כי נעים כי
”תשמרם בבטנך יכונו יחדיו על שפתיך29 (For it is a pleasant thing if you keep them within your
belly; let them be established on your lips). Reading this in light of the immediately
preceding biblical verse makes clear what it is that the biblical author (and Reish Lakish)
want internalized: “( ”הט אזנך ושמע דברי חכמים ְולבך תשית לדעתי׃Incline your ear and listen
to the words of the sages; Pay attention to my wisdom). This text from Proverbs quite
clearly relates to the earlier metaphor of a sacred mail bag – the words of the Sages must
be kept safe (in a carrying bag, or in one’s belly), but they must also be transmitted (as
delivered mail, or established on one’s lips). Jastrow observes that distinction is made
even more explicit in the Munich Manuscript version of this text, as it excludes the
28
29
bSanh. 74a
Prov. 22:18
66
statement by Reish Lakish:
שנאמר כי, והיינו דאמר רבא כולהו גופי דרופתקי נינהו טובי לדזכי דהוי דרופתקי דאורייתא
.נעים כי תשמרם בבטנך יכונו יחדיו על שפתיך
And that is [the meaning of] what Rava said: All bodies are like receptacles.
Happy is one who is privileged, who is a receptacle for Torah, as it is
stated: “For it is a pleasant thing if you keep them within your belly; let them
be established on your lips.” (Prov. 22:18)30
With our awareness already attuned to the use of multiple levels of metaphor in this
section, we can also ask: for what else are human bodies receptacles? What else is kept
within the belly? The experience of reading these two expertly interwoven metaphors –
of studiously labouring over Torah, and of birthing labour – together is profound. While
it is not possible to say if these precise allusions were intended by the redactors of this
sugya, to the contemporary reader the connection is potent. The text proposes that
studying is like becoming pregnant with learning, and necessitates the same kind of care
and attention befitting the incubation of a human being.31 All of the associated imagery of
marriage, laborious effort, and of being the messenger of a sacred material powerfully
bolsters this message. Stepping back and considering the image that the Bavli paints here
of a student’s role, we are left with the distinct impression that there is something about
studying which sustains one existentially and spiritually, an idea that is bolstered by the
many other instances where the Bavli emphasizes the sustaining power of learning.32
30
Jastrow, “Dictionary of the Talmud,” 322 s.v. דרופתקי.
Despite various assertions that women are prohibited or not obligated to learn and
teach (bEruv 28a; bKid 29b, 82a), this is a distinctly feminine ability. That the Bavli uses
an explicitly feminine image in this way to emphasize the importance of study is
noteworthy and suggests how ingrained learning was in the conception of a natural
human lifecycle.
32
This notion will be picked up again within this sugya, and appears elsewhere at: bBer.
8a; bShab. 119b; bEruv. 53b; bMeg. 28a; bMo’ed Qat. 28; bKid. 29b, 30b; bMak. 10a
31
67
Thus, the implication of not reviewing one’s studies is pointedly driven home: it is akin
to cutting off the possibility to continue living; a kind of spiritual murder.
SECTION 3
יושב ודורש בהגדות של דופי: TEACHING FLAWED INTERPRETATIONS
Our sugya now turns to its own case study, a baraita involving the seventh
century BCE Judean King Manasseh, whom the Tanakh views in a rather poor light due
to his heretical behaviour.33 While this section is about teaching more than being a
student, it is worth mentioning here due to its inclusion in the broader discussion on
education.
ל( והנפש אשר תעשה ביד רמה זה מנשה בן חזקיה שהיה יושב ודורש בהגדות,ת"ר )במדבר טו
כב( ואחות לוטן תמנע ותמנע היתה,אמר וכי לא היה לו למשה לכתוב אלא )בראשית לו. של דופי
יד( וילך ראובן בימי קציר חטים וימצא דודאים בשדה יצאה ב"ק,פלגש לאליפז )בראשית ל
כ( תשב באחיך תדבר בבן אמך תתן דופי אלה עשית והחרשתי דמית היות,ואמרה לו )תהלים נ
יח( הוי מושכי העון בחבלי,אהיה כמוך אוכיחך ואערכה לעיניך ועליו מפורש בקבלה )ישעיהו ה
השוא וכעבות העגלה חטאה מאי כעבות העגלה א"ר אסי יצר הרע בתחלה דומה לחוט של כוביא
.ולבסוף דומה לעבות העגלה
The Sages taught: “But the person who acts high-handedly,” (Num.
15:30), this [refers to] Manasseh ben Hezekiah, who would sit and teach
flawed [interpretations of Torah] narratives.
[Manasseh] said: But did Moses need to write only [insignificant parts of Torah
that teach nothing, for example]l: “And Lotan’s sister was Timna” (Gen.
36:22), “And Timna was concubine to Eliphaz,” (Gen. 36:12), “And Reuben
went in the days of the wheat harvest and found mandrakes in the field” (Gen.
30:14)? A Divine Voice emerged and said to him: “You sit and speak against
your brother; you slander your own mother’s son. These things you have done,
and should I have kept silence, you would imagine that I was like you, but I
will reprove you, and set the matter before your eyes.” (Ps. 50:20–21)
And about [Manasseh ben Hezekiah] it is stated explicitly in the tradition
(Prophets): “Woe unto them who draw iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as
with a cart rope” (Is. 5:18). What [is the meaning of] “as with a cart rope”?
33
2Kgs. 21:1-9
68
Rabbi Asi says: the evil inclination. Initially, it seems like spinning a thread
and ultimately it seems like a cart rope.34
The Bavli recounts that Menasseh argued the Torah included statements that do not teach
us anything. About the King, the Bavli says: “( ”שהיה יושב ודורש בהגדות של דופיHe would
sit and teach flawed [Torah] narratives). Here, the text anachronistically ascribes to
Manasseh the phrase “יושב ודורש,” a term highly particular to the teachers of the rabbinic
academies.35 This formula helps contextualize this in the rabbinic mind: even someone
who ascends to a high level of leadership is not automatically assumed to be worthy of
emulation. Just as there are bad kings, there are also bad teachers.36 This is predicated on
a similar argument to that of the second baraita in the first section – the idea that the
Torah is whole and complete, and that every piece has relevance, even if not immediately
apparent. In arguing that all of Torah is germane, we might say that it is thus a student’s
responsibility to extend the level of effort toward retention articulated in the previous
section, even if its immediate relevancy is not apparent.
From here, the Bavli digresses away from our main area of focus to examine the
verses which Manasseh critiqued. We will pick up where it returns to speak about study.
34
bSanh. 99b
For more on the ישב דרשformula, see Goodblatt, “Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian
Babylonia,” 221-259. See also other Talmudic uses at bBer. 27b; bEruv. 45a; bPes. 26a;
bBeitz. 15b; bYev. 72b, 96b; bB. Bat. 119b; bSanh. 99b, 107b).
36
Intriguingly, the only time in Tanakh where the words ישבand דרשappear in proximity
is in Isaiah 16:5, speaking about the desired just leadership of a monarch: “ והוכן בחסד כסא
”וישב עליו באמת באהל דוד שפט ודרש משפט ומהר צדק׃. (A throne will be established in
goodness, and on it will sit in truth, in the tent of David, a judge who pursues justice and
is zealous for righteousness). The text here is clearly not speaking about teaching, but in
its prophetic vision of good leadership, there is a noticeable contrast to that of
Manasseh’s poor reign, portrayed in chapter 21 of II Kings. In drawing the character of
Manasseh into its narrative and using the words ישבand דרשto describe him, is the Bavli
alluding to Isaiah’s idealized vision of leadership, subtly suggesting that the rabbis of the
academy have inherited the mantle of the ancient monarchies?
35
69
Section 4. The Value of Education
א"ר אלכסנדרי כל העוסק בתורה לשמה משים שלום בפמליא של מעלה ובפמליא של מטה שנאמ
רב אמר כאילו בנה פלטרין של מעלה ושל מטה:או יחזק במעוזי יעשה שלום לי שלום יעשה לי
שנאמר ואשים דברי בפיך ובצל ידי כסיתיך לנטוע שמים וליסד ארץ )אמר ריש לקיש( ]רבי
יוחנן אמר[ אף מגין על כל העולם כולו שנאמר ובצל ידי כסיתיך ולוי אמר אף מקרב את הגאולה
.שנאמר ולאמר לציון עמי אתה
אמר ריש לקיש כל המלמד את בן חבירו תורה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאילו עשאו שנאמר ואת הנפש
אשר עשו בחרן ר' )אליעזר( אומר כאילו עשאן לדברי תורה שנאמר ושמרתם את דברי הברית
הזאת ועשיתם אותם רבא אמר כאילו עשאו לעצמו שנאמר ועשיתם אותם אל תקרי אותם אלא
אתם אמר רבי אבהו כל המעשה את חבירו לדבר מצוה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאילו עשאה שנאמר
ומטך אשר הכית בו את היאר וכי משה הכהו והלא אהרן הכהו אלא לומר לך כל המעשה את
:חבירו לדבר מצוה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאילו עשאה
Rabbi Alexandri says: Anyone who engages in Torah for its own sake
introduces peace into the entourage above and into the entourage below, as it
is stated: “Or let him take hold of My stronghold, that he may make peace with
Me; and he shall make peace with Me” (Is. 27:5). Rav says: [It is] as though he
built a palace of above and of below, as it is stated: “And I have placed My
words in your mouth, and I have covered you in the shadow of My hand, to
plant the heavens and lay the foundations of the earth” (Is. 51:16). Rabbi
Yohanan says: [One who engages in Torah] also protects the entire world, as
it is stated: “And I have covered you in the shadow of My hand.” And Levi
says: He also advances redemption, as it is stated: “And say to Zion, you are
My people.”
Reish Lakish said: anyone who teaches Torah to the son of another, the verse
ascribes them [credit] as though they formed [that student], as it is stated: “and
the souls that they formed in Haran.” (Gen. 12:5) Rabbi Elazar says: It is as
though they fashioned (as’an) the words of Torah [themselves] as it is stated:
“Observe the words of this covenant, (va’asitem otam),” (Deut. 29:8), Rava
says: [It is] as though he fashioned himself, as it is stated: “Va’asitem otam.”
Do not read “otam” rather, [read] atem,”
Rabbi Abbahu says: anyone who causes another to [engage in] a matter of a
mitzvah, the verse ascribes them [credit] as though they performed it, as it is
stated: “and your rod, with which you struck the river,” (Ex. 17:5). And Moses
struck [the river]? But isn’t [it written that] Aaron struck [the
river]? Rather, [that verse] says to you: Anyone who causes another to [engage
in] a matter of a mitzvah, the verse ascribes them [credit] as though they
performed it.37
37
bSanh. 99b
70
The Bavli now introduces two succinct groupings: one of Amoraic meimrot on the
value of study, and one of Tannaitic and Amoraic statements on the value of teaching. In
the first, we encounter Amoraim from the first three generations and both rabbinic
communities, whose statements further develop the theme of learning as a venture which
has transcendent impact:
Rabbi
Generation and
Location
R’ Alexandri
First, Eretz Yisrael
Rav
First, Babylonia
R’ Yohanan
Second, Eretz Yisrael
Levi
Third, Eretz Yisrael
Teaching
Studying Torah for its own sake introduces
peace into heavens above and earth below
Studying Torah for its own sake is like
establishing the heavens and the earth
Torah study protects the entire world
Torah study advances the coming of
redemption
The concept of – תורה לשמהstudying Torah for its own sake – articulated by R’ Alexandri
and Rav is defined elsewhere in two distinct ways. In the first, two gemaras contrast תורה
לשמהwith ( תורה שלא לשמהTorah studied not for its own sake). Sukkah 49b pairs תורה
לשמהwith ( תורה של חסדa Torah of kindness), where the same concept is also described as
studying Torah with the intent to teach it to others. This is juxtaposed with תורה שלא לשמה
as ( תורה שאינה של חסדa Torah without kindness), also described as studying Torah
without the intent to teach it to others. We see again the prominent theme of the
importance of learning in order to teach, as well as the blending of the roles of scholar
and teacher. Elsewhere, R’ Bena’a in Ta’anit 7a suggests that תורה לשמהhas life
sustaining powers as an “elixir of life,” while תורה שלא לשמהwill be an “elixir of death.”
Commenting on this evocative dichotomy, Rashi argues that תורה לשמהis “משום כאשר צוני
ה' אלהי ולא כדי להקרות רבי,” that is, on account of what the Eternal God commanded, and
not because he wants to be viewed as a rabbi. This definition fits in well with the Bavli’s
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wider scope vis a vis ego and status, and its general view that one should not learn with a
self-aggrandizing intent.38
In the other approach to תורה לשמה, the phrase appears in Sanhedrin 105b and in
six parallel passages,39 with Rav Yehuda arguing in the name of Rav that even Torah
studied not for its own sake is preferable to no study at all, as it will eventually lead one
to studying for its own sake. This is significant, given Rav’s assertion here of the value of
תורה לשמה, and the stark contrast that is made with תורה שלא לשמה. It presents a
remarkable degree of latitude for learners, and suggests an ongoing approach to education
that understands the progressing abilities of a learner. It may also point to an
understanding of learning as a socializing enterprise: notwithstanding the disdain held for
those who use learning for ulterior motives, the value of learning is so supreme, that it is
better for one to engage in the process and be surrounded by others doing the same, than
to not be a part of the community at all. Bringing this understanding to Rav’s statement
here in Sanhedrin 99b fits in well with localization of the sugya in a perek about
acceptable behaviour and communal norms.
These two meimrot coupled with the others reinforce the important tropes of
learning in order to teach, learning not for self-aggrandizement or to achieve status, and
learning as a spiritual endeavour with transcendent power.
Next, we encounter four more statements that narrow the focus upon the value of
teaching. As earlier, while the emphasis is on teaching, insight is also provided on
studying and being a student.
38
39
See pg. 41 and 177.
bPes. 50b; bSot. 47a, 22b; bNaz. 23b; bHor. 10b; bArakh. 16b
72
Rabbi
Reish Lakish
R’ Elazar
Generation and
Location
Amora, Second,
Eretz Yisrael
Tanna, Second
Rava
Amora, Fourth,
Babylonia
R’ Abbahu
Amora, Third,
Eretz Yisrael
Teaching
Anyone who teaches Torah to the son of
another is as if they had created him
Anyone who teaches Torah to the son of
another is as though they formed the words
of Torah themselves
Anyone who teaches Torah to the son of
another is as though they formed
themselves
Anyone who causes another to engage in a
mitzvah is as though they performed the
mitzvah themselves
There is an enlightening interplay here between three of Schwab’s
commonplaces. While the focus in each is on the act of teaching, the importance of the
act is shown to have multifaceted resonance.40 In the first instance (Reish Lakish),
teaching impacts the student; in the second (R’ Elazar), the subject matter; and in the
third (Rava), the teacher themself. Rava’s statement ( אתם...ועשיתם, form yourself) is
predicated on a simple linguistic wordplay with R’ Elazar’s (ועשיתם אותם, form them, i.e.
the words of Torah), but is a powerful and moving reminder of the intimate relationship
between student and teacher, and of the act that joins them together: one can build oneself
up and learn about oneself through the act of teaching another. The process the Bavli
describes is remarkably similar to a hermeneutic of text learning advanced by Paul
Ricouer: “The interpretation of a text culminates in the self-interpretation of a reader who
henceforth understands himself better, understands himself differently, or simply begins
to understand himself.”41
40
All the more noteworthy, given that the kind of teaching here is of one who may be at a
disadvantage, in not having a father to teach him himself.
41
Paul Ricoeur, From Text to Action: Essays in Hermeneutics, II (Studies in
Phenomenology and Existential Philosophy), (trans. Kathleen Blamey and John B.
Thompson; Evanston: Northwestern University, 2007), 118.
73
That these statements specifically focus on the teaching of Torah to the son of
another is particularly significant, as the Bavli understands the obligation to teach Torah
as incumbent upon a father toward his son, and that whoever did not have a father (and
presumably, anyone who did not have a father capable of teaching) would not learn.42
Thus, to teach another’s son is to step into a parental role which has substantial
interpersonal and religious resonance, plus pragmatic outcomes:43 the son will now be
able to observe Torah, and participate in the community’s learning and dialogue. The
teacher has granted the student both status and access!
R’ Abbahu’s statement about mitzvot seems out of place – out of the eight
statements gathered here, it is the only one that does not have to do with education.
However, note that in the earlier discussion about תורה לשמה, an association was already
made between Torah study and the performance of mitzvot, as the Bavli records R’
Yehuda’s argument that both study and mitzvot not performed for their own sake are
preferable to not studying or not performing mitzvot. Also note that formula of R’
Abbahu’s statement is identical to the associated meimrot:
כל המעשה את חבירו לדבר מצוה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאילו עשאה שנאמרR’ Abbahu
כל המלמד את בן חבירו תורה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאילו עשאו שנאמרReish Lakish
Study and mitzvot; student and teacher; the earthly world and the heavens above – in
these eight brief rabbinic statements, the expansiveness and interconnectedness of
learning and teaching are evoked by the Bavli. In between the intensity of section two
and the forthcoming section on the אפיקורוס, these pithy statements offer readers
42
43
bB. Bat. 21a and Rashi ad loc
Thank you to my advisor, Rabbi Aaron Panken, for pointing this out to me.
74
something of a momentary pause, retaining the focus on the theme, but allowing us the
opportunity to reflect on more easily digestible content.
SECTION 5
?מגלה פנים בתורה AND WHO ISאפיקורוס WHO IS AN
The gemara now engages in a lengthy debate attempting to define the categories
(one who interprets Torah incorrectly). Bothמגלה פנים בתורה (a heretic)44 andאפיקורוס of
categories are personae non gratae and said to have no share in Olam HaBa, but the
sugya will expend energy now trying to determine which behaviours constitute each
status. Note that each category is not isolated – the definition of one has an impact on the
definition of the other. To help follow the logic, I will provide an outline of the various
arguments and refutations following the passage:
אפיקורוס :רב ור' חנינא אמרי תרוייהו זה המבזה ת"ח רבי יוחנן ור' יהושע בן לוי אמרי זה המבזה
חבירו בפני ת"ח.
בשלמא למ"ד המבזה חבירו בפני ת"ח אפיקורוס הוי מבזה תלמיד חכם עצמו מגלה פנים בתורה
שלא כהלכה הוי אלא למ"ד מבזה תלמיד חכם עצמו אפיקורוס הוי מגלה פנים בתורה כגון מאי
כגון מנשה בן חזקיה .ואיכא דמתני לה אסיפא מגלה פנים בתורה רב ור' חנינא אמרי זה המבזה
ת"ח רבי יוחנן וריב"ל אמרי זה המבזה את חבירו בפני תלמיד חכם.
בשלמא למ"ד המבזה תלמיד חכם עצמו מגלה פנים בתורה הוי מבזה חבירו בפני ת"ח אפיקורוס
הוי אלא למ"ד מבזה חבירו בפני תלמיד חכם מגלה פנים בתורה הוי אפיקורוס כגון מאן אמר רב
יוסף כגון הני דאמרי מאי אהנו לן רבנן לדידהו קרו לדידהו תנו .אמר ליה אביי האי מגלה פנים
בתורה נמי הוא דכתיב )ירמיהו לג ,כה( אם לא בריתי יומם ולילה חקות שמים וארץ לא שמתי
אמר רב נחמן בר יצחק מהכא נמי שמע מינה שנאמר )בראשית יח ,כו( ונשאתי לכל המקום
בעבורם.
אלא כגון דיתיב קמיה רביה ונפלה ליה שמעתא בדוכתא אחריתי ואמר הכי אמרינן התם ולא אמר
הכי אמר מר רבא אמר כגון הני דבי בנימין אסיא דאמרי מאי אהני לן רבנן מעולם לא שרו לן
עורבא ולא אסרו לן יונה .רבא כי הוו מייתי טריפתא דבי בנימין קמיה כי הוה חזי בה טעמא
44
, see Jenny R. Labendz, “Know what toאפיקורוס For more on the portrayal of the
”Answer the Epicurean: A Diachronic Study of the ‘Apiqoros in Rabbinic Literature,
HUCA 74 (2003), 175-214.
75
להיתירא אמר להו תחזו דקא שרינא לכו עורבא כי הוה חזי לה טעמא לאיסורא אמר להו תחזו
דקא אסרנא לכו יונה.
רב פפא אמר כגון דאמר הני רבנן רב פפא אישתלי ואמר כגון הני רבנן ואיתיב בתעניתא.
לוי בר שמואל ורב הונא בר חייא הוו קא מתקני מטפחות ספרי דבי רב יהודה כי מטו מגילת
אסתר אמרי הא ]מגילת אסתר[ לא בעי מטפחת אמר להו כי האי גוונא נמי מיחזי כי אפקירותא.
רב נחמן אמר זה הקורא רבו בשמו דאמר רבי יוחנן מפני מה נענש גיחזי מפני שקרא לרבו בשמו
שנאמר )מלכים ב ח ,ה( ויאמר גחזי אדני המלך זאת האשה וזה בנה אשר החיה אלישע.
יתיב רבי ירמיה קמיה דרבי זירא ויתיב וקאמר עתיד הקב"ה להוציא נחל מבית קדשי הקדשים
ועליו כל מיני מגדים שנאמר )יחזקאל מז ,יב( ועל הנחל יעלה על שפתו מזה ומזה כל עץ מאכל
לא יבול עלהו ולא יתם פריו לחדשיו יבכר כי מימיו מן המקדש ]המה[ יוצאים והיה פריו למאכל
ועלהו לתרופה א"ל ההוא סבא יישר וכן אמר ר' יוחנן )יישר( אמר ליה ר' ירמיה לרבי זירא כי
האי גונא מיחזי אפקרותא.
אמר ליה הא ]האי[ סיועי קא מסייע )ליה( ]לך[ אלא אי שמיע לך הא שמיע לך כי הא דיתיב רבי
יוחנן וקא דריש עתיד הקב"ה להביא אבנים טובות ומרגליות שהן שלשים על שלשים אמות וחוקק
בהם עשר ברום עשרים ומעמידן בשערי ירושלים שנאמר )ישעיהו נד ,יב( ושמתי כדכוד
שמשותיך ושעריך לאבני אקדח וגו' לגלג עליו אותו תלמיד אמר השתא כביעתא דצילצלא לא
משכחינן כולי האי משכחינן .לימים הפליגה ספינתו בים חזינהו למלאכי השרת דקא מנסרי אבנים
טובות ומרגליות אמר להו הני למאן אמרי עתיד הקב"ה להעמידן בשערי ירושלים כי הדר
אשכחיה לר' יוחנן דיתיב וקא דריש א"ל רבי דרוש ולך נאה לדרוש כשם שאמרת כך ראיתי אמר
לו ריקה אם לא ראית לא האמנת מלגלג על דברי חכמים אתה יהב ביה עיניה ועשאו גל של
עצמות.
(The gemara now begins discussing) an apikoros. Rav and Rabbi Hanina both
say: This is one who treats a Torah scholar with contempt. Rabbi Yohanan and
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi say: This is one who treats another with contempt
before a Torah scholar.
Granted, according to the one who says that one who treats another with
contempt before a Torah scholar is the apikoros, one who treats a Torah
scholar with contempt is one who interprets the Torah inappropriately, but
according to the one who says that one who treats a Torah scholar himself with
contempt is the apikoros, [who is the one] who interprets the Torah
inappropriately? Like what [person is this?] Like Manasseh, son of Hezekiah.
And there are those who teach [this] with regard to the latter clause [of
the baraita]: One who interprets the Torah [inappropriately has no share in the
World-to-Come]. Rav and Rabbi Hanina say: This is one who treats a Torah
scholar with contempt. Rabbi Yohanan and Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi say:
This is one who treats another with contempt before a Torah scholar.
Granted, according to the one who says one who treats a Torah scholar himself
with contempt is [one who] interprets the Torah inappropriately, one who
76
treats another with contempt before a Torah scholar is an apikoros. But
according to the one who says that one who treats another with contempt
before a Torah scholar is [one who] interprets the Torah [inappropriately, then
who is an] apikoros? Like whom [are they]? Rav Yosef says: like those who
say: what have the Sages done for us? They read for their [own benefit
and] they study Mishna for their [own benefit].
Abaye said to him: That [person is] also [in the category of one] who interprets
the Torah [inappropriately], as it is written: “If not for My covenant, I would
not have appointed day and night, the laws of heaven and earth” (Jer. 33:25).
Rav Nahman bar Yitzhak says: From here, too. conclude [the same] from it, as
it is stated: “then I will spare the entire place for their sakes” (Gen. 18:26).
Rather, [the apikoros is] like one who sits before their teacher and
a halakha [they learned] from another place happens to fall [into their mind]
and [the student] says: “This is what we say there,” and they do not say “This
is what the Master said.” Rava said: [an apikoros is] like those from the house
of Binyamin the doctor, who say: what have the Sages done for us? Never have
they permitted a raven for us nor have they prohibited a dove for us. (About)
Rava: When they would bring a possible tereifa (an impure animal with a fatal
disease) from the house of Binyamin before him, when he would see in it a
reason to permit. [Rava would] say to them: “See that I am permitting a raven
for you,” when he would see in it a reason to prohibit [it, Rava would] say to
them: See that I am prohibiting a dove for you.
Rav Pappa says: [An apikorus is] like one who says: Them, our teachers, [with
contempt] Rav Pappa forgot [once] and said: Like them, our teachers, and he
observed a fast.
Levi bar Shmuel and Rav Huna bar Hiyya were mending mantles for the
sacred scrolls of the school of Rav Yehuda. When they reached the scroll of
Esther they said: This scroll of Esther does not require a mantle. [Rav
Yehuda] said to them: [A statement] of that sort also seems like the irreverence
[of an apikoros].
Rav Nahman says: [An apikoros] is one who calls his teacher by his name (and
not Rabbi), as Rabbi Yohanan said: Why was Gehazi punished? Due to [the
fact] that he called his teacher by his name, as it is stated: “And Gehazi said:
My lord the king, this is the woman, and this is her son, whom Elisha
revived” (II Kings 8:5).
Rabbi Yirmeya sat before Rabbi Zeira, and sat and said: The Holy Blessed One
will cause a river to emerge from the Holy of Holies, and alongside it all sorts
of delicacies, as it is stated: “All kinds of trees for food will grow up on both
banks of the stream. Their leaves will not wither nor their fruit fail; they will
yield new fruit every month, because the water for them flows from the
77
Temple. Their fruit will serve for food and their leaves for healing.” (Ezek.
47:12). A certain elder said to [Rabbi Yirmeya]: Well done, and so Rabbi
Yohanan said: Well done. Rabbi Yirmeya said to Rabbi Zeira: [Does a
statement] of that sort seem like [the] irreverence [of an apikoros]?
[Rabbi Zeira] said to him: But isn’t he supporting you? (i.e. he meant no
disrespect). Rather, if you heard [that saying “well done” is irreverent], this [is
what] you heard: [It is] like that which Rabbi Yohanan sat and taught: The
Holy Blessed One is destined to bring precious stones and jewels that are thirty
by thirty cubits, and God will bore in them [an opening] ten by twenty in
height and place them as the gates of Jerusalem, as it is stated: “I will make
your battlements of rubies, Your gates of precious stones, The whole encircling
wall of gems.” (Isa. 54:12). A certain student mocked him [and] said: Now we
do not find [precious stones] comparable [to] the egg of a palm dove. [Where
will] we find [stones] as large as that?
Sometime [later that student’s] ship set sail at sea. He saw the ministering
angels cutting precious stones. He said to [them]: For whom are these? [The
angels] said: The Holy Blessed One is destined to place them at the gates of
Jerusalem. When [the student] returned, he found Rabbi Yohanan, who was
sitting and teaching. [The student] said to him: My teacher, teach, and it is
fitting for you to teach. Just as you said, so I saw. [Rabbi Yohanan] said to him:
Good-for-nothing (literally: “empty one!”), if you did not see it, you would not
believe it? You mock the statements of the Sages. [Rabbi Yohanan] directed
his eyes toward him and turned him into a pile of bones.45
1. Who is an ?אפיקורוס
a. Definition option 1: One who treats a scholar with contempt. (Rav and R’
Hanina)
b. Definition option 2: One who treats another with contempt in the presence
of a scholar (R’ Yohanan and R’ Yehoshua ben Levi).
c. The stam gemara asks: if the אפיקורוסis one who treats another with
contempt in the presence of a scholar (option 2), then one who treats a
Torah scholar himself with contempt is מגלה פנים בתורה. But if you say that
the אפיקורוסis one who treats a scholar himself with contempt (option 1),
then who is ?מגלה פנים בתורה
d. The stam gemara answers: Someone like Manasseh, who taught flawed
Torah.46
45
46
bSan 99b-100a
Pg. 67-69.
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2. Who is ?מגלה פנים בתורה
a. Definition option 1: One who treats a scholar with contempt. (Rav and R’
Hanina)
b. Definition option 2: One who treats another with contempt in the presence
of a scholar. (R’ Yohanan and R’ Yehoshua ben Levi)
c. The stam gemara asks: if one who is מגלה פנים בתורהis one who treats a
scholar with contempt (option 1), then one who treats another with
contempt in the presence of a scholar is the אפיקורוסmentioned in the
initial mishnah. But if you say that a מגלה פנים בתורהis one who treats
another person with contempt in the presence of a scholar (option 2), then
who is the ?אפיקורוס
i. Answer option 1: It is like someone who questions the benefit that
our teachers ( )רבנןprovide through their study of Tanakh and
Mishnah. (R’ Yosef)
a. Objection: That person is also in the category of מגלה פנים
בתורה. (Abayye)
b. R’ Nahman bar Yitzhak concurs.
ii.
Answer option 2: The אפיקורוסis one who sits with one’s teacher
and does not attribute learning they learned elsewhere to that
source.
iii.
Answer option 3: The אפיקורוסis one who questions the benefit
that our teachers ( )רבנןprovide, arguing that they only teach things
that are already explicit in Torah. (Rava)
a. Rava refutes the argument of the אפיקורוסin this
hypothetical scenario.
iv.
Answer option 4: The אפיקורוסis one who says, “These, our
teachers ()רבנן,” with a condescending tone.47 (Rav Pappa)
a. Related aggadah of Levi bar Shmuel and Rav Huna bar
Hiyya repairing the covers for Megilat Esther. They said
that Megilat Esther didn’t need a scroll, as it wasn’t as
significant as the rest of Tanakh. Saying “This scroll” is
like saying “”הני רבנן
47
See Rashi on bSanh. 100a, s.v. כגון דאמר הנהו רבנן, for his description of the
condescending tone.
79
v.
Answer option 5: The אפיקורוסis one who calls his teacher by his
name, and not the title “rabbi.” (R’ Nahman)
vi.
Answer option 6: The אפיקורוסis like one who is not a scholar
saying, “well done” to a scholar, as if they are of the same or
greater status.
a. R’ Zeira refutes this, and introduces…
vii.
Answer option 7: Aggadah of R’ Yohanan and his student, which
teaches that the אפיקורוסis like a student who mocks the teacher or
the words of the sages, only believing in what can be seen with
one’s own eyes, and not also what is learned from reputable
sources. (R’ Zeira)
The debate here may seem pedantic – none of the definitions offered are
necessarily mutually exclusive, and at the end of the day, the distinction is not explicitly
made clear. Indeed, an אפיקורוסor one who is מגלה פנים בתורהcould logically be all of
these things together. What they share is a disregard for the authoritative power of the
rabbis.48 The Bavli seems to be less interested in concretely defining these terms, and
more interested in outlining the boundaries of normative behaviour toward and among
scholars. These people have brazenly positioned themselves outside of that community.
While discussions on the אפיקורוסappear in several other places in the Talmud,
מגלה פנים בתורהappears only in one other usage, in three parallel passages, where the
severity of this violation is made clear: it is among the transgressions for which Yom
Kippur does not atone.49 The term also appears once in the Mishnah, defined as a revealer
of things in the Torah that are not acceptable according to halakhah.50 But the definitions
48
Vidas, “Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud,” 133.
bYoma 85b; bShev. 13a; bKer. 7a
50
The term literally means “one who reveals/bares their face to the Torah.” See mAvot
3:11, and the punishment likewise there that such a person has no share in Olam HaBa,
even though they may have acquired learning in Torah.
49
80
the Bavli provides here for a מגלה פנים בתורהshould leave us puzzled: the text does not
articulate what we would logically expect it to, namely what kind of interpretations of
Torah are unacceptable, flawed or contradictory of halakhah. Rather, the guidelines
address the foundations of the student-teacher relationship: trust, attribution, respect, and
fidelity to the broader rabbinic teaching enterprise. With regard to this last point, the
gemara is fairly emphatic here about the role of students within this system: students are
in need of sages and teachers (and must honour, trust, and revere them), even if the
students can access the learning material on their own.51
In this light, Moulie Vidas suggests that Rava’s assertion is meant to “equate
rabbinic honour with rabbinic creativity,”52 and points to the prime Amoraic
understanding of learning: it is a rejection of the idea of teachers as merely
readers/transmitters of what is available in Tanakh or Mishnah and teachers of only
“received knowledge or… established laws.”53 This suggests a paradigm of discipleship
that reaches beyond literacy, and moves toward the interrogative, critical approach to
learning. Perhaps this is why the Bavli frames this section as a debate, melding content
and style, to encourage enquiry and creativity.
In defining who is an אפיקורוסand who is a מגלה פנים בתורהalong the lines of
teacher-student-subject matter relationships, the Bavli is ultimately constructing: (a) a
tightly-knit ontological argument: existence in this world and the next is defined, inter
alia, by learning and revering those who learn and teach; (b) an epistemological
51
This may reflect an Amoraic desire to assert authority of interpretation over the pshat
Torah text.
52
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 136.
53
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 136.
81
argument as to what is worthy knowledge and whom we should believe; and (c) a social
argument on desired behaviour. This suggests an intriguing fusion of commonplaces:
acting irreverently toward one’s teacher or fellow scholar is itself seen as a flawed
interpretation of Torah and a heretical deed. Material and lived experiences intertwine, in
line with the Bavli’s counsel elsewhere to act in accordance with the Torah being
learned.54
From here, the Bavli engages in another digression away from focusing on
education. We pick back up a few short lines later.
SECTION 6
TOILING OVER TORAH FOR A SHARE IN OLAM HABA
דרש ר' יהודה ברבי סימון כל המשחיר פניו על דברי תורה בעולם הזה הקב"ה מבהיק זיויו לעולם
אמר ר' תנחום בר' חנילאי כל. טו( מראהו כלבנון בחור כארזים,הבא שנאמר )שיר השירים ה
( ט,המרעיב עצמו על דברי תורה בעולם הזה הקב"ה משביעו לעולם הבא שנאמר )תהלים לו
.ירויון מדשן ביתך ונחל עדניך תשקם
Rabbi Yehuda, son of Rabbi Simon, taught: One who blackens one’s face over
matters of Torah in this world, the Holy Blessed One, shines their brightness
in the World-to-Come, as it is stated: Their countenance is like Lebanon,
excellent as the cedars.” (SoS 5:15) Rabbi Tanhum, son of Rabbi Hanilai,
says: One who starves oneself over matters of Torah in this world, the Holy
Blessed One satisfies them in the World-to-Come, as it is stated: “They feast
on the rich fare of Your house; You let them drink at Your refreshing
stream.” (Ps. 36:9).55
Our sugya now turns away from those who have no share in Olam HaBa, to those
whom it views do merit a place. The argument is rather straightforward: one who exerts
great bodily effort over Torah during one’s lifetime will be rewarded in Olam HaBa. The
54
55
See Rashi on bAZ 19b, s.v. אם פריו יתן בעתוand רשעים.
bSanh. 100a
82
metaphors used are stark – blackening one’s face56 and starving oneself while toiling over
matters of Torah – but fit in well with the widespread emphasis on strenuous learning.57
But are these merely metaphors? Does, perhaps, the Bavli advocate an approach to
learning that neglects attending to a student’s biological needs? As noted, there is no
conclusive answer to the question of how much studying is too much, and to what extent
students should disregard other needs or wants. Other examples are more permissive or
even demanding of a wider scope of attention.58 That said, the Bavli’s focus on the
intensity of time and devotion demanded of students brings to mind the contemporary
psychological and pedagogical research into Flow Theory, a state of mind reached during
extreme focus on one study or task, where other concerns (eating, sleeping, attending to
personal hygiene) do not register.59 Perhaps likewise, here the intention is not to
universally demand this singular focus, or even to refer to a specific moment when this
stage is reached, but to emphasize that those who are predisposed to exert such energy are
held in the highest esteem.
There is another brief digression in the sugya, to discuss more broadly matters of
reward and punishment. Our analysis returns as the text turns back to discussing those
who have no share in Olam HaBa through an educational lens.
56
This expression is vague. It carries a distinctly negative connotation, particularly when
juxtaposed against the image of Lebanon (note the word play of לבןmeaning “white”).
David M. Goldenberg notes that the expression “face became black” is commonly found
as a figure of speech in post-biblical texts, to indicate distress or sadness. (See David M.
Goldenberg, The Image of the Black in Jewish Culture, in “Jewish Quarterly Review” 93
(2003) 557-579.
57
See pg. 49.
58
See, for example: bBer. 35b; bShab. 33b; bTa’an. 24a-b; bKet. 62b-63a
59
For more on this, see: Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, “Flow: The Psychology of Optimal
Experience,” (New York: Harper Collins, 2009).
83
SECTION 7
ספרים החיצוניםAND INAPPROPRIATE LEARNING MATERIAL
Our sugya turns now to focus on ( ספרים החיצוניםexternal literature), defined here
and in Sanhedrin 90a as “books of heretics,” the study of which can bar one from a place
in Olam HaBa. The Bavli uses the Book of Ben Sira as a case study, mining its material
for reasons it is considered heretical:
תנא בספרי מינים רב יוסף אמר בספר בן:'רבי עקיבא אומר אף הקורא בספרים החיצונים וכו
סירא נמי אסור למיקרי א"ל אביי מאי טעמא אילימא משום דכתב ]ביה[ לא תינטוש גילדנא
אי מפשטיה.מאודניה דלא ליזיל משכיה לחבלא אלא צלי יתיה בנורא ואיכול ביה תרתין גריצים
יט( לא תשחית את עצה אי מדרשא אורח ארעא קמ"ל דלא ליבעול,באורייתא נמי כתב )דברים כ
.שלא כדרכה
ואלא משום דכתיב בת לאביה מטמונת שוא מפחדה לא יישן בלילה בקטנותה שמא תתפתה
בנערותה שמא תזנה בגרה שמא לא תינשא נישאת שמא לא יהיו לה בנים הזקינה שמא תעשה
כשפים הא רבנן נמי אמרוה אי אפשר לעולם בלא זכרים ובלא נקבות אשרי מי שבניו זכרים אוי
.לו למי שבניו נקבות
( כה,אלא משום דכתיב לא תעיל דויא בלבך דגברי גיברין קטל דויא הא שלמה אמרה )משלי יב
.דאגה בלב איש ישחנה ר' אמי ור' אסי חד אמר ישיחנה מדעתו וחד אמר ישיחנה לאחרים
ואלא משום דכתיב מנע רבים מתוך ביתך ולא הכל תביא אל ביתך והא רבי נמי אמרה דתניא רבי
. כד( איש רעים להתרועע,אומר לעולם לא ירבה אדם רעים בתוך ביתו שנאמר )משלי יח
אלא משום דכתיב זלדקן קורטמן עבדקן סכסן דנפח בכסיה לא צחי אמר במאי איכול לחמא לחמא
.סב מיניה מאן דאית ליה מעברתא בדיקני' כולי עלמא לא יכלי ליה
…אמר רב יוסף מילי מעלייתא דאית ביה דרשינן
Rabbi Akiva says: Also one who reads external literature [has no share in the
World-to-Come. The Sages] taught: [This refers to] books of heretics. Rav
Yosef says: It is also prohibited to read the book of ben Sira, Abaye said
to [Rav Yosef]: What is the reason? If we say due to that [which ben
Sira] wrote in it: Do not flay the skin of the fish from its ear, so that its skin
does not go to ruin, but roast it on the fire and eat with it two loaves of bread,
[and you believe this is nonsense, that is not a good enough reason]. If [your
difficulty is] from its literal [meaning, that should not be a problem, since] in
the Torah, [it is] also written: “You shall not destroy its trees” (Deut. 20:19).
If [your difficulty is] from [its] midrashic interpretation, [it] is teaching us
proper conduct: [One] should not engage in sexual intercourse in an atypical
manner.
84
Rather, [perhaps it is] because it is written: A daughter is for her father false
treasure; due to fear for her he will not sleep at night: During her minority, lest
she be seduced; during her young womanhood lest she engage in
licentiousness; once she has reached her majority, lest she not marry; once she
marries, lest she have no children; once she grows old, lest she engage in
witchcraft. Didn’t the Sages also say this? [That it is] impossible for the
world [to exist] without males and without females [but], happy is one whose
children are males and woe unto him whose children are females.
Rather, [perhaps it is] because it is written: Do not introduce anxiety into your
heart, as anxiety has killed mighty men. Didn’t Solomon [already] say
it: “Anxiety in a man’s heart dejects him (yashhena)” (Prov. 12:25)? [Of]
Rabbi Ami and Rabbi Asi, one says he shall remove it (yesihenna) from his
mind, and one says: he shall tell it (yesihenna) to others.
Rather, [perhaps it is] because it is written: Prevent the multitudes from inside
your house, and do not bring everyone into your house. But didn’t
Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi] also say it, as it is taught [that] Rabbi [Yehuda
HaNasi] says: A person should never have many friends inside his house, as it
is stated: “There are friends that one has to his own detriment.” (Prov. 18:24)
Rather, [perhaps it is] because it is written: A sparse-bearded man is clever; a
thick-bearded man is a fool. One who blows on his cup is not thirsty. One who
said: With what will I eat bread, take the bread from him. One who has a
passage in his beard, the entire world is unable to overcome him.
Rav Yosef says: (Even though there are passages in the book that are
inappropriate or seemingly irrelevant), we [still] teach the outstanding parts
that are in it.60
On the surface, the concentration of this unit seems to shift to another of our
commonplaces, attempting to define what is outside the bounds of permitted subject
matter. However, note that the focus is on the reader of the book and their experience of
reading such material, and not on the book itself or any immediately apparent heretical
material within it. The Bavli is concerned with excoriating one who might learn from
such a text, and not with banning the text. Several potential reasons why are enumerated:
the student does not grasp the peshat or midrashic meanings, there is a concern that
60
bSanh. 100b
85
certain content will be troubling, or the text is simply nonsensical. In all but the last case,
the gemara refutes the arguments with a biblical source.
Up until this point, this section’s text is essentially asking: if one spends time learning
something that has been deemed not worth learning, what does that say about the
student? The answer here warns of a potential judgment of heresy. Framed in a more
positive light, this part of our sugya establishes a relationship between student and
material which is empowering toward the learner. It places a responsibility not only on
those in formal teaching roles to be faithful to a relevant and approved curriculum, but
also on students to use good judgment in directing their focus.
This unit concludes with a surprisingly progressive approach to the subject matter,
attributed to R’ Yosef. He argues that notwithstanding the problematic parts of Ben Sira,
we still can teach ( מילי מעלייתאthe superior/outstanding parts of the text). Rashi expands
this further, nothing that the acceptable parts of a heretical text are even taught during the
pirke lecture, and in public to the “whole world.”61 The term מילי מעלייתאappears
elsewhere, usually referring to a rabbi asking another to teach a noteworthy teaching, or in
response to a particularly astute or praiseworthy judgment.62 The implication here seems to
be that if a heretical text has even one iota of didactic material, it is acceptable to teach.
This matter will be discussed further in Chapters 7 and 8 on the subject matter of learning.
The gemara provides further examples of material from the otherwise heretical Book
of Ben Sira, which is deemed acceptable to learn. We pick back up with the conclusion of
this sugya.
61
Rashi on bSanh. 100b, s.v. דרשינן
See bBer. 8a; bShab 138b; bEruv. 102a; bBeitz. 28a; bTa’an. 20b; bB. Qam. 20a;
bB. Bat. 51a; bZev. 2b; bHul. 51a
62
86
SECTION 8
בעלי תלמוד, בעלי משנה, בעלי מקרא: SCHOLARS AND THEIR EXPERTISE
Our sugya began with an examination of the appropriate behaviour of students,
solidifying the idea of “student” as an identity, and now returns to that orientation. This
section makes a number of distinctions between and among two groups of people: the
“( ”בעליmasters) of different subject matters (Tanakh, Mishnah, Talmud, Halakhah,
Aggadah), and “ – ”לציםthose who scorn study. The sugya dramatically concludes with a
stunning and terse baraita, dwelling on the appropriate pedagogy involving these groups:
טו( כל ימי עני רעים אלו בעלי תלמוד וטוב לב,אמר ר' זירא אמר רב מאי דכתיב )משלי טו
רבא אמר איפכא והיינו דאמר רב משרשיא משמיה דרבא מאי. משתה תמיד אלו בעלי משנה
ט( ובוקע עצים יסכן בם, ט( מסיע אבנים יעצב בהם אלו בעלי משנה )קהלת י,דכתיב )קהלת י
…אלו בעלי תלמוד
Rabbi Zeira says Rav says: What [is the meaning of that] which is written: “All
the days of the poor are terrible” (Prov. 15:15)? These are masters of
talmud. “And for the good-hearted it is always a feast”? These are masters of
Mishna.
Rava says the opposite [is true]; and this is what Rav Mesharshiyya said in the
name of Rava: What [is the meaning of that] which is written: “One who
quarries stones shall be saddened by them” (Qoh. 10:9)? These are masters of
Mishnah. “And he who chops wood shall be warmed by it”? These are masters
of talmud.63
The makhloket that follows returns to the earlier discussed theme of effort required
in study, but now connects it directly to the material being learned with several critiques.
Interpreting two verses from Proverbs and Kohelet,64 the Bavli inquires: (a) what is the
difference between the kind of work a learner needs to do in studying Mishnah and
talmud; (b) to what degree does one need to exert oneself, and (c) to what degree does
63
bSanh. 100b
Note the intentional choice of Wisdom Literature as the sources from which the rabbis
draw.
64
87
one need to reap the benefits of one’s exertions, for the learning process to have been
worthwhile?
The common characters through this debate are the ( בעלי תלמודMasters of talmud)
and ( בעלי משנהMasters of Mishnah). Rav, via R’ Zeira, argues that these בעלי תלמודare
the “poor and terrible” referred to in the Proverbs 15:15 proof-text. Rashi elucidates,
arguing that it is because of how these talmudic scholars labour over the difficulties
within the text, an almost Sisyphean task.65 Rava, via R’ Mesharshiyya stakes an
opposing view, arguing that while the mastery of talmud may require great effort (he uses
the metaphor of chopping wood from Kohelet 10:9), one is ultimately able to enjoy the
benefits of this labour afterward, being warmed by the academic effort.66
“No,” say, Rava and R’ Mesharshiyya – the real labour to lament is that of the בעלי
משנה, who are like stone quarriers,67 never able to reap the reward of their work (that is,
they may know how to recite halakhot, but do not understand the underlying
principles).68 Note that this is a highly poetic evocation of the ongoing debate between
הלכהand – סבראthe rote memorization of halakhot and the intense examination of the
underlying principles – that we examined earlier. In this light, Rav’s disparaging of the
בעלי תלמודis puzzling, given that all of the rabbis involved in this makhloket are Amoraim
and what we know about the general hierarchy of talmud-style study over mishnaic study
65
Rashi on bSanh. 100b, s.v. בעלי תלמוד
There is a nice metaphoric parallel here to the image painted at bTa’an 7a of one
scholar igniting another as one piece of wood ignites another.
67
The image of rocks, stone, and crushing appears frequently in association with the
theme education. See more on the metaphors used for Torah at pg. 154-155.
68
Rashi on bSanh. 100b, s.v. רבא אמר איפכא
66
88
amongst this cohort.69 This is also surprising, given how we have seen the Bavli’s almost
universal idealizing of a strenuous approach to study.70
Indeed, when these two rabbis argue that the בעלי משנהare the “good-hearted,” who
are always at a feast,71 we should be left stunned. Is it possible that they would elevate
mishnaic scholarship above talmudic? True, the בעלי משנהare described as good-hearted,
but the image of a feast is one where everything is pre-prepared, with no effort on the part
of the feasters. Beneath the positive veneer of the proverb, there seems to be more than a
subtle dose of sarcasm and arrogance, as these rabbis look-down upon their peers. The
reward of Mishnah scholarship is a feast – sustenance, but only temporarily so. R’ Zeira
and Rav ultimately draw greater attention to the perceived gap in effort between them and
those who engage in Mishnah study.
This debate, however, is left unresolved. Between talmud and Mishnah, הלכהand
סברא, long-term and immediate benefits, theoretical and practical knowledge, and
difficulty and ease, the rabbis have staked out their competing claims, but we are left in
the space between them. What are we to make of how this portrays these scholars? Given
what we know of the Amoraic view of rote learning, it would be too easy to say that the
Amoraim here (or the Stammaitic portrayal of them) are simply advocating an approach
where both sets of foci are equally valuable. What seems to be at stake is not a
hierarchical focus on pedagogy or curriculum (though elsewhere, that is certainly fair
69
For more on these categories and the hierarchy therein, see Vidas, “Tradition and the
Formation of the Talmud,” 116-118, and elsewhere in the Talmud: bEruv. 21b and 54a
70
See pg. 49.
71
Prov. 15:15
89
game),72 but rather a focus on the scholars themselves and an understanding of the human
element involved: What are the physical, spiritual, and emotional conditions involved in
these two kinds of scholars? Yes, the Bavli says, significant effort is required in study,
but now we see the impact of that on the students themselves: poverty, badness, and
sadness.73
The Bavli digresses briefly here for further exegesis on the verses from Proverbs
and Kohelet, then returns to introduce a baraita that discusses the different “Masters” of
scholarship:
תנו רבנן הקורא פסוק של שיר השירים ועושה אותו כמין זמר והקורא פסוק בבית משתאות בלא
זמנו מביא רעה לעולם מפני שהתורה חוגרת שק ועומדת לפני הקב"ה ואומרת לפניו רבונו של
עולם עשאוני בניך ככנור שמנגנין בו לצים
The Sages taught: One who reads a verse from Shir HaShirim and renders it a
form of a song, and one who reads a verse at a banquet house, not at
its [appropriate] time introduces evil to the world, as the Torah girds [herself
with] sackcloth and stands before the Holy Blessed One, and says before Him:
Master of the Universe, Your children have rendered me like a harp on which
clowns play.74
This baraita opens with a prohibition against reading a verse from Shir HaShirim
as if it were a song. This is surprising, given R’ Akiva’s emphatic assertion earlier in this
sugya: “ זמר בכל יום,זמר בכל יום,”75 that one should sing their studies every day to help
commit them to memory. The injunction against singing is even more astonishing, given
the primary text in question: Song of Songs! Rashi flatly acknowledges this peculiarity:
72
bEruv. 54b. Vidas notes that when the creators of the Talmud thought of what made
them the “masters of talmud,” they thought of themselves in opposition to those who
focused on transmission (Vidas, “Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud,” 116-117).
73
Elsewhere, the Bavli also discusses the impact on such dedication on those closest to
scholars. See bBer 22a; bEruv 21b-22a; bKet 61b
74
bSanh. 101a
75
bSanh. 99b
90
“…it is from Shir HaShirim, and its essence is song.” 76 Rather, this is not a blanket ban
on all songs, Rashi states, only on those with “different melodies” that are not indicated
by the Masoretic text.77 In other words, only the accepted rabbinic method of recitation is
permitted, not a foreign or heretical form. Underlying this baraita’s enforcement of
cultural boundaries is an important statement on content guiding the form of one’s
studies: a more conservative approach is advocated, requiring learners to check their
assumptions before engaging with the text.
A second prohibition accompanies the first, against those who read any verse
from Tanakh during a festive meal at an inappropriate time. The consequence meted out
for those who transgress these prohibitions is blunt: they are said to מביא רעה לעולם
(introduce evil into the world). The Bavli will go on to contrast these abhorrent
behaviours with those that are desired, but it is worthwhile pausing here to note the
magnitude of this statement. Amidst a discussion of pedagogy, one might think that a
more appropriate response would be to correct the errors of the offender, to require them
to perform an act of repentance, or even to label such a person as an אפיקורוסor a מגלה
פנים בתורה. Indeed, the latter seems most appropriate given the context of this sugya, and
the focus here on foreign influence. Instead, we encounter a more ontological statement,
similar to the arguments of the transcendent value of learning made earlier. Transgressive
learning, argues the Bavli, introduces evil into the world, while appropriate learning
(outlined below) is said to ( מביא טובה לעולםintroduce goodness into the world). We see a
76
Rashi on bSanh. 101a, s.v. הקורא שיר השירים ועושה אותו כמין זמר
The Masoretic punctuation and cantillation marking of the Tanakh text is seen as being
a key component of understanding of verses and an integral part of Torah study (bNed.
36b-37a).
77
91
focus less on a logistical or clerical error in approach to the material, and more of a
blanket statement about the worthiness of the individual in question. Again, the Bavli is
crafting an image of scholars not only in terms of their acts, but in terms of identity. The
world is divided into stark, almost Manichaean terms: there are those who introduce evil
into the world, and those who introduce goodness into the world. The Talmud seems to
be goading us on: “Among which group do you want to be found? At your core, who are
you as a person in relationship to the world?”
The extent to which the Bavli goes to make this point is astonishing. The Torah –
offended at the transgression – is anthropomorphised as being in mourning, dressing in
sackcloth before God, the Master of the Universe. Testifying against humanity, the Torah
speaks, and casts the offenders as – לציםan important term. Meaning “scorners,” the term
is found elsewhere to describe similar frivolous attitudes toward study,78 as well as
undesirable foreign culture.79 However, the most significant uses of לציםelsewhere are in
Sotah 42a, and just ahead of our sugya in a parallel passage from Sanhedrin 103a:
א"ר ירמיה בר אבא ארבע כיתות אין מקבלות פני שכינה כת ליצים וכת חניפים וכת שקרים וכת
… ה( משך ידו את לוצצים, כת ליצים דכתיב )הושע ז.מספרי לשון הרע
Rabbi Yirmeya bar Abba says: Four classes of people will not greet the
Shekhinah: The class of scorners, the class of hypocrites/flatterers, the class of
liars, and the class of slanderers. "The class of scorners, as it is written: “God
draws His hand from scorners.” (Hos. 7:5)...80
Here, ליציםis a categorical definition that places one into a distinct societal class (and a
highly undesirable one at that). When the Torah in our sugya calls God’s children “ליצים,”
it carries these heavy overtones of social and religious discrimination. She (the Torah) is
78
bKid. 41a
bAZ 18b, 19a
80
BSot. 42a
79
92
not merely calling out inappropriate behaviour, but is labelling as “outsiders” those who
do not approach the material with appropriate reverence. There is also a rhythmical
bookending of the sugya, as near the beginning, we learned of the – מגלה פנים בתורהone
who inappropriately reveals their face to (i.e. interprets) the Torah. The Bavli now
poetically exhorts: if you reveal your face inappropriately, you will not merit the radiance
of God’s face. If you do not advocate for Torah, the Torah will advocate against you.
In the face of such dark possibilities, the Bavli now makes an astounding
suggestion: God turns to the Torah and asks for advice:
אמר לה בתי בשעה שאוכלין ושותין במה יתעסקו אמרה לפניו רבונו של עולם אם בעלי מקרא
הן יעסקו בתורה ובנביאים ובכתובים אם בעלי משנה הן יעסקו במשנה בהלכות ובהגדות ואם
בעלי תלמוד הן יעסקו בהלכות פסח בפסח בהלכות עצרת בעצרת בהלכות חג בחג העיד רבי
שמעון בן אלעזר משום רבי שמעון בן חנניא כל הקורא פסוק בזמנו מביא טובה לעולם שנאמר
: כג( ודבר בעתו מה טוב,)משלי טו
[The Holy Blessed One] says to [the Torah]: My daughter, during the time that
they are eating and drinking, in what should they be engaged? [The Torah] says
before God: Master of the Universe, if they are masters of the Bible, let them
engage in the study of the Torah, Prophets, and Writings. If they are masters of
Mishna, let them engage in Mishna, in halakha, and in aggada. And if they are
masters of talmud, let them engage in the halakhot of Pesach on Pesach, in the
halakhot of Shavuot on Shavuot, and in the halakhot of
Sukkot on Sukkot. Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar testified in the name of Rabbi
Shimon ben Hananya: Anyone who reads a verse at its [appropriate] time
introduces good into the world, as it is stated: “And a word in its season, how
good is it.” (Prov. 15:23)81
There are several immediately fascinating things about this brief aggadah, and what it
says about the relationship between learners, teachers, and knowledge: God asks the
Torah for help, and the Torah has the answer (an epistemological statement if there ever
was one). The role of questioning in learning is emphasized, (if the Creator of the
universe participates in the process, all the more so should we), and the question God
81
bSan 101a
93
poses to the Torah is significant: “( ”בשעה שאוכלין ושותין במה יתעסקוduring the time that
they are eating and drinking, with what should [people] be occupied?) Using the verb עסק
here is almost begging the question – we encountered the term in our initial baraita, and
noted the relationship of the word to Torah study and to the blessing for study.
Presumably God – the character in this aggadah – is well aware of the blessing used for
Torah study, and in using similar language, is pointing to a desired answer.
The Torah is portrayed as God’s daughter, a significant placing of a female
character in the role of teacher, when compared to other prohibitions against women from
teaching.82 There is also a unique power inversion here, with the child (the typical student
figure) taking on a teaching role, another sign of the blended roles of teacher and student.
Her answer reintroduces the categories of בעלי, the Masters of various fields of
knowledge: Miqra (Tanakh), Mishna, and talmud. The answer presents an idealized
vision of knowledge: the hypothetical children of God at a hypothetical banquet are all
masters of the core fields of Jewish knowledge, and the personified Torah suggests that
each of these masters should continue occupying themselves with their fields of
expertise.83 This evokes a highly learner-oriented approach to education, with a focus on
depth over breadth. There is something both conservative in this approach, in that it
potentially limits one’s own educational progress beyond a narrow field, yet also liberal,
in that it (like the attention paid to the Masters’ emotional wellbeing at the beginning of
this section) also acknowledges the individuality of each learner. Note again the
82
bEruv. 28a; bKid. 29b, 82a
Vidas argues that “the deliberate drawing of boundaries… make it likely that the Bavli
here is staking a position in a real conversation with other ideological positions and
perhaps also other groups within the academy.” (Vidas, “Tradition and the Formation of
the Talmud,” 117).
83
94
connection to education-as-identity through the titular approach of Master.84 These are
not people who happen to be good at Tanakh versus Mishnah, but the בעליof each field.
The subject of learning is further refined for the בעלי תלמוד: as an example of
appropriate study subject during festive meals, the personified Torah recommends the
halakhot of the shalosh regalim, the three Pilgrimage Festivals (Pesach, Shavuot, and
Sukkot). The answer provided here refines the one we first encountered. While the
baraita initially introduced the idea that reading biblical verses at a banquet outside of
their appointed time was inappropriate, now the Torah and R’ Shimon ben Elazar (in the
name of Rabbi Shimon ben Hananya) teach that discussing (appropriate) biblical verses is
permissible, and moreover, introduces good into the world.85
Drawing heavily on metaphor, personification, and symbolism, this closing
baraita poetically impresses upon us a strong sense of the scope of learning the Bavli is
grappling with in the wider sugya: questions of the identity of learners and teachers, of
appropriate milieus and times for learning, and of relevant subject matter are all raised.
Indeed, in this highly evocative final section, the material itself is personified as a
teacher, and the Master of the Universe as a student. The text freely weaves these
discussions together in a way that – while disorienting at times – emphasizes the
interconnectedness of the Bavli’s understanding of education.
84
85
See also at bEruv. 21b, 54b; bHag. 14a; bB. Metz. 33b; bB. Bat. 8a, 145b
See also Rashi on bSanh. 101, s.v. הקורא פסוק בבית המשתאות בלא זמנו
95
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
Returning to the framing questions from Chapter 1, we can now say a few more
definitive things about how the Bavli, here, understands the role and responsibilities of a
student:
•
To be a student is both descriptive of an act (one who learns), but also largely of
an identity. It bears a resemblance to social classes, at times with clearly defined
boundaries, and at others with more porous edges. It is an active, rather than a
passive identity, and demands various behaviours in addition to a continual
process of learning.
•
A significant amount of material discusses the contours of students’ relationship
with others: their teachers, their family, and their learner colleagues. A strong
argument is made in favour of learning as a group endeavour, with an emphasis
on learners not being empty vessels to be filled, but as fully-developed human
beings with emotional, physical, and spiritual needs demanding attention.
•
The value of being a learner is multifaceted: it has practical value in learning how
to fulfill mitzvot, intellectual value in how to discern the logic behind halakhot,
ideological value in upholding education as a worthy enterprise, and transcendent
value.
•
This, perhaps, represents a singularly Jewish understanding of the role of a
student: learning and education have the power to influence both the human
physical world and the divine spiritual world, impacting and sustaining the
structure of the cosmos.
•
Related, learning is idealized as an existence-long endeavour, extending in both
96
directions beyond the confines of a natural human lifespan (this may be
metaphoric vis a vis learning in utero, but seems to be understood concretely vis a
vis Olam HaBa).
•
While there is no unified pedagogy, the Bavli maintains some consistency in its
practical approach to learning, including: a concern for retaining material, the
importance of review, the rigour demanded of study, an awareness that study has
to be oriented both broadly toward practical implications, and narrowly, toward
theoretical inquiry, and the use of questioning as a tool in service of learning.
With this picture of the student, we now turn to the teacher, remembering that these two
roles overlap significantly.
97
CHAPTER 5
“תורה
”כאילו עשאן לדברי
“LIKE FASHIONING WORDS OF TORAH:”1
TEACHERS
1
bSanh. 99b
98
In the eyes of the Bavli, the relationship between student and teacher is such that
many elements of what defines discipleship intersect with the identity of teachers. For our
purposes now to sketch out a broad look at what the Bavli considers important to the role
of the teacher, when there is a potential overlap, we will look primarily at sources which
are approached from the specific perspective of the teacher. As we do, we consider such
questions as: Who should be permitted to teach? What is the nature of a teacher’s
relationship to their student – is it merely to impart topic-specific knowledge, or to reflect
upon education as a whole?2 For what reasons are teachers respected – their practical
value, or a more robust sense of their worth? What systems does teaching involve?3
The material within the Bavli maps out quite nicely onto the same framework we
used to evaluate the role of student. Thus, we can characterize what the Bavli has to say
about being a teacher into four categories:
1. Identity: Who is and is not a teacher?
2. Relationship: What are the ideal modes of interaction with others, particularly
fellow teachers, and one’s own teachers?
3. Value: What is the value (for students, society, and the cosmos) of teachers?
4. Practice: What are the different practical approaches to teaching?
2
Schwab, “Inquiry and the Reading Process,” 148.
Joseph Schwab, “The Practical: A Language for Curriculum,” The School Review 78:1
(1969): 1-23.
3
99
למי נאה ללמד: WHO IS FIT TO TEACH?4
IDENTITY: WHO IS AND WHO IS NOT A TEACHER?
There is a tension present in the Bavli’s approach to defining who is a teacher. On
the one hand, as we would naturally expect, there is a concern for the necessary
knowledge one must acquire. For example, several sugyas indicate the knowledge one
must have to teach publicly,5 to be appointed head of the yeshiva,6 to be appointed leader
of the community,7 or to be appointed Nasi.8 Our main sugya of focus in the next chapter
will ask what is the requisite experience to be considered a teacher for one single
individual.9 Elsewhere the Bavli wonders whether it is knowledge in particular, or life
experience that permits one to issue rulings.10
On the other hand, there seems to be a considerably greater focus on examining
the boundaries surrounding the identity of the teacher that have comparatively little to do
with knowledge or experience. For example, among other considerations, the Bavli asks
if the following people/groups of people are permitted to teach: women,11 mothers,12
fathers,13 grandfathers,14 bachelors,15 those who are excommunicated,16 those who are
4
bMak. 10a
bMak. 10a
6
bBer. 27b-28a; bShab. 114a
7
bShab 114a
8
bHor. 13b-14a
9
bB. Metz. 33a-b
10
bAZ 19b
11
bKid. 82
12
bKid. 29b
13
bBer. 13b; bPes. 113b; bKid. 29a-b, 30a; bSot. 21b; B. Bat. 21a-22a
14
bbKid. 30a
15
bKid, 82a
16
bMo’ed Qat. 15a
5
100
ostracized,17 a heretic,18 a metzora (one inflicted with a skin/spiritual condition),19 and
one who is in mourning.20
This tension comes to a head in a brief debate in Avodah Zarah over what are
sufficient qualifications to render legal decisions:
“ ”ועד כמה? עד מ' שנין והא רבא אורי? התם בשוין
At what point [is one worthy]? At forty years. But didn’t Rava render legal
decisions [before that age]? There [it is permitted], since they are equal.”21
Rashi helps us understand the Bavli’s perplexity here, and points to the gemara at Rosh
Hashanah 18a which says that Rava died at the age of forty.22 Clearly he had been
issuing rulings before then. Thus, the equality the Bavli is speaking of here, says Rashi, is
in knowledge, and that since Rava was unmatched, he was permitted to rise to a position
of teacher and legal decisor, even though convention dictated he should not have been
permitted.23
In discussing the desired behaviour of teachers,24 we can find another case of
tension between adhering to the traditionally defined boundaries of identity when it
comes to teachers, and also acknowledging outstanding circumstances. Examining cases
of ( נידויtemporary excommunication / ostracizing), the Bavli asks:
ההוא צורבא מרבנן דהוו סנו שומעניה א"ר יהודה היכי ליעביד לשמתיה צריכי ליה רבנן לא
.לשמתיה קא מיתחיל שמא דשמיא
17
bMo’ed Qat. 15a
bHag. 15a-b
19
bBer. 22a, bMo’ed Qat. 15a
20
bMo’ed Qat. 21a
21
bAZ 19b
22
Rashi on bAZ 19b, s.v. והא רבא אורי
23
Rashi on bAZ 19b, s.v. התם בשוין
24
For more on desired and prohibited behaviours, see: bBer. 27b-2a; bShab. 114a; bPes.
113b; bSuk. 28a; bHag. 15a-b; bGit. 62a, 67a; bMak. 10a; bMen. 99a-b
18
101
There was a certain Torah scholar who gained a bad reputation. Rav Yehuda
said: What should be done? To excommunicate him [is not an option]. The
Sages need him (Rashi: since he is a great Torah scholar). Not to
excommunicate him [is not an option, since then], the name of Heaven would
be desecrated.25
More is at stake here than in the brief gemara from Avodah Zarah, but it acknowledges a
similar problem: because of the great value of education, teachers are in high demand,
particularly one of such scholarship. However, fidelity to codes of right conduct is also
inviolable. In this instance, the Bavli eventually prioritizes the latter, and follows the
repercussions of the anonymous scholar’s excommunication. The debate between
excommunication and education is profound: even though resolved, it points to a belief
that not anyone can be a teacher solely based on their ability to convey knowledge, and of
competing philosophies between the pre-eminence of teachers in society, and the
importance of adhering to proper behavioural codes. Note that the debate here is not over
whether the scholar is permitted to continue serving as a teacher, but over whether they
should be expunged (even temporarily) from society – among the most severe of
punishments.26 As with a student, the question “who is a teacher” does not only describe
an act or a profession, it represents an identity that is both individual to the person, but
also inextricably bound up in the community.
25
bMo’ed Qat. 17a
Particularly, since the scholar’s actual sin is never detailed, and Rashi notes that this
entire case may be over a matter of rumours and hearsay. See Rashi on bMo’ed Qat. 17a,
s.v. סנו שומעניה.
26
102
כל שמצווה ללמוד מצווה ללמדALL WHO ARE COMMANDED TO LEARN ARE
COMMANDED TO TEACH:27 RELATIONSHIPS WITH OTHERS
The immense respect for teachers that the Bavli advocates (addressed in the next section)
is not unidirectional from students to teachers, but incumbent upon teachers toward each
other as well. Broadly speaking, the Bavli thus demonstrates a twin orientation when
considering a teacher’s relationships with others: it is mostly concerned with (a)
promoting a teacher’s concern for their students (illustrated in the example below, and
also in the various practical approaches to teaching we will soon see), and (b)
emphasizing a relationship among teachers (and between teachers and their own teachers)
that upholds the status of rabbis and the rabbinic endeavour.
Among the most pointed elements of a teacher’s relationship with others is the
repeated insistence on the obligation to teach.28 Learning is not something to be hoarded,
but must be shared with others.29 As we shall see in the case study on teachers from Bava
Metzi’a in the next chapter, there is a makhloket over whether quantity or quality is of
more importance – particularly in determining the nature of a teacher’s relationship with
their student – but the bottom line is consistent, as in this gemara from Rosh Hashanah:
“”ואמר רבי יוחנן כל הלומד תורה ואינו מלמדה דומה להדס במדבר30 (R’ Yohanan said: Anyone who
studies Torah but does not teach it to others is likened to a myrtle in the desert”). In this
27
bKid. 29b
bEruv. 53b-54a; bSuk. 49b; bRosh 23a; bMeg 28b; bSot. 21b; bKid 29a-b, 30a; bSanh.
91b-92a, 99a-100a
29
At one point in the ongoing debate in the Bavli between conservative fluency and
liberal innovation, two metaphors for learning are used: a cistern and an overflowing
stream (bShab. 147b, examined in chapter 10). While representing two distinct
pedagogies, what these metaphors share in common is the life-sustaining power of water,
and the belief that even a cistern – and its conservative approach to learning – does not
just hoard water for the sake of conservation, but to provide nourishment to others.
30
bRosh. 23a
28
103
rabbinic version of the “if a tree falls in the forest…” thought experiment, learning which
is not shared is argued to be of no value at all. It is as if to say that a teacher who has no
students is not a teacher at all.
Indeed, this reveals one of the most foundational principles undergirding the
entire construction of the Bavli – citing a teaching in the name of the one who taught it.
This principle is emphasized not only as a positive obligation,31 but in one instance is
reversed to punish those teachers who are disrespectful toward one another, by expunging
their names from the record.32 While advocating collegiality, the Bavli also seems to
understand that the heightened competitive nature of rabbinic academia may lead to a
range of interpersonal experiences among teachers. On the one hand, we see the
tradition’s aspirations: Come and see how much the sages love each other, “בא וראה כמה
מחבבין זה אזה,”33 urges one gemara. Yet elsewhere, we learn of the stratified character of
the beit midrash,34 the reality of jealousy amongst teachers, and the sense of competition
between teachers of higher and lower calibre.35
The breadth of these attitudes may reflect the understanding that rabbis are not just
individual teachers, but are representatives of an entire way of life, with an investment in the
preservation of their own interpretive power.36 On the one hand, there is a basic aversion
toward treating each other disrespectfully or cruelly which applies to all. At the same time,
the individual needs of teachers may be secondary to the larger rabbinic enterprise.
31
bPes. 104b; bMeg. 15a; bYev. 96b; bNid. 19b bHul. 104b
bHor. 13b-14a
33
bSanh. 24a
34
See Chapter 9
35
bB. Bat. 21-22a
36
For more on this topic, see Michael S. Berger, Rabbinic Authority: The Authority of the
Talmudic Sages (Oxford: Oxford University, 1998).
32
104
מביאו לחיי העולם... רבוTHEIR TEACHER BRINGS THEM TO ETERNAL LIFE:37
THE VALUE OF TEACHING
The value of this enterprise is without question for the Bavli. The need for
teachers and their pre-eminence is asserted throughout the text,38 to the extent that at one
point, R’ Eliezer ben Hyrkanus is even referred to metaphorically as a sefer Torah – the
scroll itself!39 This merging of animate and inanimate bespeaks both the understanding
that Torah is a living entity – in the minds of the rabbis quite literally sustaining existence
– as well as the primacy of rabbinic teachers. It is as if the wisdom of R’ Eliezer came
from the Torah itself. Certainly, this is a particularly noteworthy honorific not applied to
all, though it is reflective of the wider orientation.
The implications of this orientation extend in two notable directions: as a calling
of the highest value, teaching – similarly to the descriptions we saw earlier of learning –
is portrayed in multiple sugyas as having transcendent value.40 But for those who engage
in teaching as an occupation, it is also a part of quotidian life, and so the Bavli discusses
it as having fiscal value as well, outlining various professional considerations.41
37
bB. Metz. 33a
bEruv. 28b; bYoma 71b; bMeg. 29a; bHag. 5b; bKet. 17a-b; bSot. 49b; bNed. 41a;
bKid. 33b; bB. Bat. 8b; 21a-22a; bB. Metz. 33a-b, 84b; bSanh. 17b, 19b, 99b, 101a; bAZ
3b; bHor. 13a, 13b-14a; bKer. 28a
39
bSanh. 101a
40
bBer. 21b; bPes. 113a; bKet. 17a-b; bSot. 4b, 10a; bKid. 30a; bB. Metz. 33a, 85a;
bSanh. 91b-92a, 99b, 101a; bTem. 16a; bNid. 20b
41
bTa’an 24a; bNed. 36b-37b; bB. Metz. 21a, 21b, 22b, 97a, 109a-b; bBech 29a
38
105
לחדד בה התלמידיםSHARPEN THE MINDS OF STUDENTS:42
PRACTICAL APPROACHES TO TEACHING
Similar to the caveat noted earlier on the practice of learning, if one were to distill the
entirety of the Bavli into a how-to-guide to teaching, it is conceivable that little learning
would get done. The sheer diversity of opinions on and models of how to teach would
make such an endeavour of questionable pedagogic value. Having said that, there is a
certain degree of consistency of concern, and we can paint a picture of some eight
categories the Bavli considers in articulating theories of teaching:
1. Specialized subject areas: Different teachers have different degrees of
specialization, and the Bavli recognizes that some only teach the halakhot of their
field of expertise.43 For some, this seems to be based not only on the teacher’s
knowledge, but on public demand for one kind of learning over another.44
2. The importance of review: As noted, the Bavli displays an immense fear of
students forgetting their learning, and the role of the teacher in fostering review is
accentuated.45 Alon Goshen-Gottstein posits that the goal is not only the
preservation of information, but also the preservation of the form of creativity and
42
bEruv 13a
bShab. 114a; bEruv. 21b, 54a; bYoma 38a-b; bB. Metz. 97a; bSanh. 67b, 100b, 101a;
bHor 13b-14a. See also Steven Fraade, Legal Fictions: Studies of Law and Narrative in
the Discursive Worlds of Ancient Jewish Sectarians and Sages (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 2731.
44
See, for example, the aggadah of R’ Abbahu and R’ Hiyya bar Abba, who teach
aggadah and halakhah, respectively, and the comparative popularity of R’ Abbahu over
R’ Hiyya. (bSot. 40a)
45
bShab. 104a; bEruv. 54a-b; bPes. 3b; bSuk. 20b; bTa’an 9a; bKet. 103b; bKid. 30a;
bB. Qam. 117a-b; bB. Metz. 85b; bB. Bat. 22a; bHor. 13b-14a; bHul. 63b
43
106
sharp analysis characterized by the rabbinic enterprise.46
3. The avoidance of errors: The Bavli strenuously warns against flawed
interpretation – including heresy – as well as generic errors. What exactly counts
as an error seems to be contextual, and the rabbis themselves debate the validity
of interpretations ad infinitum, however there is a broad commitment to precision
of intellectual understanding and halakhic practice, and teachers are thus urged to
be meticulous in their teaching to this goal.47
4. Literacy versus creativity: In an unresolved debate that stretches through the
entire Bavli, we encounter different interpretations of whether teachers should
instruct students in halakhic conclusions so that students will know the law as
practiced, or if they should encourage creativity through an understanding of
jurisprudential principles.48
5. Individualized instruction: For the most part, in navigating our four
commonplaces, the Bavli pays significant attention to the individual needs of
students, pondering what ages are best for various disciplines,49 how to teach to
the individual intelligence of each student,50 and how to respond to students who
have difficulty learning.51
46
Alon Goshen-Gottstein, The Sinner and the Amnesiac: The Rabbinic Invention of
Elisha ben Abuya and Eleazar ben Arach (Stanford: Stanford University, 2000) 381, n81.
47
bEruv. 60a; bPes. 112a; bYoma 66b; bYev. 41a; bGit.. 43a; bKid. 25a, 30a; bB. Bat
21a-b; bB. Sanh 5a, 99a-100a; bZev. 12b-13a and Rashi ad loc
48
bBer. 28b; bEruv. 13a and Rashi ad loc, 54a-b; bKet. 50a; bB Bat. 21a; bZev. 96b
49
bKid. 29b-30a, 50a; bB. Bat. 21a-22a, bAZ. 19b
50
bEruv. 40b; 53a, 54a-b; bPes. 116a; bTa’an 4a; bB. Bat. 21a; bSanh. 68a
51
bPes. 113a; bTa’an 7a, 7b-8a
107
6. Discipline: This includes both typical questions of how to discipline troublesome
behaviour, as well as addressing the question of what teachers should do if their
students are ostracized or excommunicated.52
7. Physical Presence: The Bavli demonstrates an awareness of how a teacher’s
physical presence in relation to their students might affect the learning between
them.53
8. Demeanour: Finally, the Bavli presents a considerable awareness of how a
teacher’s conduct can influence a student’s ability to learn, most often advocating
an open and joyful presence.54
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
This broad take on the Bavli’s attention to teaching does not amount to a unified
guide to teaching, but it does reveal certain trends the text considers important to consider
when teaching: learning in order to teach and the imperative to instruct others in a life of
Torah; the value of teachers as professionals and as leaders committed to inculcating
others in a project of transcendent value; a fidelity to the perceived integrity of the canon;
the importance of honouring fellow teachers; and the importance of questioning the
individual needs of students.
52
bMo’ed Qat. 17a; bYev. 105b; bGit. 36a; bB. Bat 21a; bMak. 8a, 10a, 16b, 22b; bHor.
13b-14a
53
bYom. 77b; bSuk 28a; bMeg. 21a; bSot. 46b; bB. Qam. 117a-b
54
bBer. 63b; bShab. 30b, 119a; bEruv. 13b; bPes. 113a, 117a; bYoma 69a, bTa’an 7b-8a,
24a; bHag. 5a; bB. Metz. 84a; bBech. 29a
108
Our next chapter examines a sugya from masekhet Bava Metzi’a as a case study
on how these trends are woven together in the Bavli’s presentation of what it means to be
a teacher.
109
CHAPTER 6
“חכמה
”רבו שלמדו
“HIS TEACHER WHO TAUGHT HIM WISDOM:”1
A CASE STUDY ON TEACHERS
(BAVA METZI’A 33a-b)
1
bB. Metz. 33a
110
Right from the outset of our sugya, we are immersed in a high stakes conversation
about familial loyalty, negotiating hostage situations, entrance into the afterlife, and the
nature of wisdom. This sugya concludes the second perek of Bava Metzi’a, by analyzing
a mishnah about who takes precedence when returning lost items or assisting someone in
need: oneself, one’s father, or one’s teacher. As the wider chapter and masekhet deal with
questions of financial matters – of property value and ownership, usury, employment, and
commerce – one might be surprised to find that matters of education are discussed in any
detail at all here. Indeed, there are other sugyas throughout the Bavli that more closely
expound upon the professional duties of a teacher. This chapter is concerned with clearly
defining various parties from a legal standpoint so that questions of property and
ownership can be answered with as little ambiguity as possible. But it is exactly this
precision in defining, inter alia, who a teacher is, that makes it quite appropriate and
illuminating for our analysis.
Our sugya will sharpen the identity of the teacher, paying particular attention to
the relationship between a teacher and a student, how a teacher differs from a father (who
is also obligated to teach), the relationship of a teacher to the subject matter, the nature of
wisdom, as well as a discussion of some of the classes of בעליthat we saw earlier in our
sugya on students from Sanhedrin. The sugya progresses quite clearly through six
thematic and structural units:
1. The opening mishnah introducing the matter of property law, and the
hierarchies of a teachers, fathers, and students/sons
2. A brief comment on the hierarchy of the parties involved
3. A first attempt to define what kind of teacher the mishnah is speaking about
111
4. A brief aggadah on the need that teachers and students have for each other
5. Returning to the discussion from §3, a continued attempt to define who a
teacher is, and what counts as wisdom
6. A polemic against perceived lesser forms of learning
SECTION 1
של רבו קודמת: HIS TEACHER COMES FIRST…
אבדת אביו ואבדת רבו.מתני׳ אבדתו ואבדת אביו אבדתו קודמת אבדתו ואבדת רבו שלו קודם
של רבו קודמת שאביו הביאו לעולם הזה ורבו שלמדו חכמה מביאו לחיי העולם הבא ואם אביו
היה אביו ורבו נושאין משאוי מניח את של רבו ואחר כך מניח את של אביו.חכם של אביו קודמת
היה אביו ורבו בבית השבי פודה את רבו ואחר כך פודה את אביו ואם אביו חכם פודה את אביו
:ואח"כ פודה את רבו
If [one finds] his lost item and his father’s lost item [at the same time],
[possessing] his [own] lost item takes precedence. [If one finds] his lost item
and his teacher’s lost item, [possessing] his [own] takes precedence. [If one
finds] his father’s lost item and his teacher’s lost item, [returning] his teacher’s
takes precedence, as his father brought him into this world, and his teacher,
who taught him wisdom, brings him life in the world-to-come. And if his father
is a scholar, [returning] his father’s [item] takes precedence. If his father and
his teacher were carrying a load [and he wants to help them, first] he places his
teacher’s [load down], and then places his father’s [load down]. If his father
and his teacher were in captivity, [first] he redeems his teacher, and then
redeems his father. And if his father is a scholar, [first] he redeems his father
and then redeems his teacher.2
The mishnah sets the stage by introducing the main parties that will be considered:
oneself, one’s father, and one’s teacher. Setting up a distinction (to be discussed
immediately by the gemara), the mishnah informs us that while securing one’s own
property takes precedence over one’s father or teacher, when it comes to a choice
between the father and the teacher, the teacher takes priority (unless the father is also a
– חכםa sage/scholar).3 The reason is poetic, and rooted in concepts already familiar to us:
2
3
bB. Metz. 33a
A parallel mishnah at bKer. 28a argues the same.
112
while a father plays a biological role in bringing the child into the physical world, a
teacher plays a spiritual role in bringing the child into Olam HaBa. Two additional
hypothetical scenarios following the same rule are described, involving assisting the two
parties with a weighty burden, or redeeming them captivity. Since a father is also
obligated to teach his children,4 the prioritization is important, as it helps us see that a
teacher is not just someone who engages in the act of teaching (otherwise the father
should also be seen in that same light), but someone with a distinctive role – an identity
that carries with it certain privileges. Indeed, the caveat that if the father is a חכם, he takes
precedence, indicates that it is this element that determines one’s status. A teacher qua
teacher is assumed to be a חכם, but others can also be a חכם. Just what exactly this term
entails is one of the main foci of this sugya, and we will see soon how it seeks to define
the meaning of חכם.
Perhaps we should first knowledge that the mishnah’s distinction between father
and teacher itself may be surprising or off-putting, given the supreme focus on respect
and honour for parents demanded by the Torah and the Bavli.5 How it is that a teacher
could be of relative higher status than one’s own father? R’ Joseph Soloveitchik, one of
the most influential modern Talmudists and Jewish thinkers, provides some psychophilosophical insight on how the text can come to make such an assertion:
The act of a master teaching Torah to his students is a wondrous metaphysical
fact of the revelation of the influencing personality to the one influenced by it.
This revelation is also the cleaving of teacher and student to each other. The
student who understands the concept cleaves to the intellect that transmits the
4
bSot. 21b; bKid. 29a-b; bB. Bat 21a-22a
See Ex. 20:12; Lev. 19:3; b. Kid. 30a and Rashi ad loc, See also a gemara which
supports our sugya’s emphasis, at bMeg. 16b: אמר רבה אמר רב יצחק בר שמואל בר מרתא גדול
( תלמוד תורה יותר מכבוד אב ואםRabba said that Rav Yitzhak bar Shmuel bar Marta said:
Studying Torah is greater than honouring one’s father and mother).
5
113
concept. If he grasps the teacher’s logic, then he becomes joined to the teacher
in the unity of the conceiving intellect [maskil] and the conceived ideas
[muskal].
Within this fundamental principle is hidden the secret of the Oral Torah…
“Oral Torah” means a Torah that blends with the individual’s personal
uniqueness and becomes an inseparable part of man. When the person then
transmits it to someone else, his personal essence is transmitted along with it.6
R’ Soloveitchik draws heavily on biblical language7 to suggest that a student’s
relationship with their teacher is akin to a marriage,8 and the transferring of ideas a kind
of psycho-sexual union.9 As we have seen, the idea of a unique union shared between a
teacher and student – one (potentially) more transcendent and significant than that of a
parent-child – is common to the Bavli’s understanding of education. While this particular
mishnah does not explicitly evoke the idea of Oral Torah observed by Soloveitchik, it
operates against the backdrop of such an understanding. Teachers and students share an
intimate relationship, centred on the bestowal and sharing of wisdom, which demands
certain filial duties.
6
Handelman, Make Yourself a Teacher, 6.
( על־כן יעזב־איש את־אביו ואת־אמו ודבק באשתו והיו לבשר אחדHence a man leaves his father
and mother and clings to his wife, so that they become one flesh). (Gen. 2:24)
8
See also Daniel Boyarin, “Homotopia: The Feminized Jewish Man and the Lives of
Women in Late Antiquity” in Differences: A Journal of Feminist Cultural Studies. 7:2
(1995).
9
For more on homoerotic aspects of the Rabbi-Student relationship, see: Michael Satlow,
“‘They Abused Him like a Woman:’ Homoeroticism, Gender Blurring, and the Rabbis in
Late Antiquity.” JHS 4 (1994), 1-25; Daniel Boyarin, Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of
Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (Berkeley: University of California,
1997); and Daniel Boyarin, “Are There Any Jews in ‘The History of Sexuality’?” JHS 5
(1995), 333-5.
7
114
SECTION 2
…BUT YOUR PROPERTY TAKES PRECEDENCE
The gemara begins with a brief jurisprudential interrogation of this specific law,
before moving into a discussion on teachers and wisdom. The stam gemara seems
perplexed by an inherent tension in the mishnah: if a teacher takes precedence over one’s
own father for spiritual reasons, how can it be that one’s own property is of higher
importance than both of theirs?
ד( אפס כי לא יהיה בך אביון,גמ׳ מנא הני מילי אמר רב יהודה אמר רב אמר קרא )דברים טו
: ואמר רב יהודה אמר רב כל המקיים בעצמו כך סוף בא לידי כך.קודם לשל כל אדם. שלך
From where are these matters [derived]? Rav Yehuda says Rav says the verse
states: “Only so that there shall be no needy among you” (Deut. 15:4).
[Meaning], your [property] takes precedence [over the property] of any
[other] person.
And Rav Yehuda says Rav says: one who overzealously fulfills this this with
regard to their [property] ultimately comes to that [same fate].10
R’ Yehuda’s initial answer, in the name of Rav, is pragmatic and clear. Anyone who has
travelled by airplane is familiar with the same idea, expressed in the pre-flight warning
regarding oxygen masks: in the event they are needed, a passenger should always secure
his or her own mask first before helping others. We see a proto-version of this logic in
play here, as the gemara explains that one’s own livelihood takes precedence over
others’, so that a cycle of poverty and dependency will not be instigated. However, there
is something of an internal makhloket expressed by R’ Yehuda, as following this lucid
statement, he immediately recognizes the tension in the mishnah. Again in the name of
Rav, he argues further that while this is technically the halakhah, anyone who is too
10
bB. Metz. 33a
115
ardent in taking advantage of this principle will come to experience the very loss they
wanted to avoid.
This distinction sets some of the boundaries of our understanding of the teacherstudent relationship. While the Bavli is undeniably deferential to the honour owed to
teachers on both a societal and cosmic level,11 it is also cognizant (as we saw in the
previous chapters) of the individuality of students, and tempers the privileges of a teacher
with an attention to the needs of students.12
SECTION 3
זה הוא רבו: WHO IS HIS TEACHER?
Our sugya now turns to a three-part attempt to define who counts as one’s teacher.
Through this makhloket, we gain some insight into how the Bavli understands the
boundaries of this discussion. Given that a father can also be a teacher, and that a student
might have more than one teacher, the text here wants to ensure both that this person is
properly defined, and how that definition impacts the possessive relationship. That is,
what makes teacher specifically “ – רבוhis” teacher:
תנו רבנן רבו שאמרו רבו שלמדו חכמה ולא רבו שלמדו מקרא:'היה אביו ורבו נושאין משאוי וכו
ומשנה דברי ר"מ רבי יהודה אומר כל שרוב חכמתו הימנו רבי יוסי אומר אפילו לא האיר עיניו
.אלא במשנה אחת זה הוא רבו
If one’s father and one’s teacher were carrying a burden… The Sages taught:
One’s teacher, whom [the mishnah] stated [takes precedence], is one’s teacher
who taught wisdom, and not the teacher who taught Bible or Mishnah, [this
is] the statement of Rabbi Meir. Rabbi Yehuda says: [The reference is
11
See bEruv. 28b; bYoma 71b; bMeg. 29a; bSanh. 99b, 100a; bHor. 13b-14a; bKer. 28a
For example, see also the Bavli’s focus on teaching a student until they fully
understand the material, even if it takes four hundred lessons (bEruv. 54a-b); teaching in
a concise manner (bPes. 3b; bHul. 63b); when to withhold teaching Torah for the sake of
a student’s needs (bBer. 63a); as well as teaching students who have difficulty learning
(bPes. 113a; bTa’an. 7a-8a).
12
116
to] any [teacher] from whom [one learned] most of their knowledge. Rabbi
Yossi says: Even if [the teacher] enlightened one in only one mishna, that is
one’s teacher.13
In this first sub-unit, the text outlines four potential definitions of what counts as
“his” teacher, each of which can be categorized as being either qualitative (what is the
substance of the education provided), or quantitative (how much knowledge must be
taught). The anonymous voice of the baraita, similar to the opening mishnah, indicates
that (a) the defining aspect of what qualifies one as a teacher in this regard is whether or
not הכמהwas taught. Mysteriously, while the Bavli aims for precision in defining who the
teacher is, exactly what counts as הכמהhere is left vague. In the common term תלמיד חכם,
the term is more readily definable, indicating a student of a wise individual. However,
here, it is more elusive. The Bavli seems to understand הכמהas a countable, yet abstract,
substance – something that can be thought and talked about, taught, and measured.
R’ Meir tries to narrow the definition, explicating that (b) whatever הכמהmay be, it
is not Tanakh or Mishnah. As we have seen, these two fields are frequently minimized as
received knowledge against the Bavli’s focus on a critical understanding of halakhah. So,
R’ Meir is likely pointing to the more intensive עיוניapproach to learning. R’ Yehuda’s
argument is both maximalist: rejecting these qualitative arguments and opening the
definition to any teacher, unlimited by field of study, as well as minimalist: narrowing the
definition to (c) the single rabbi who taught most of the student’s הכמה. Again, הכמהis left
undefined, but we have a tighter sense of the specific teacher through R’ Yehuda’s
definition. Closing this first unit, R’ Yossi takes a maximalist approach in opposition to
13
bB. Metz. 33a
117
R’ Yehuda, arguing that “his” teacher is (d) any teacher who has “enlightened his eyes”
through even a single mishnah.
Rabbi
Tanna Kamma
R’ Meir
R’ Yehuda
R’ Yossi
The teacher is one who taught…
הכמה
Not מקראor משנה
Most of הכמה
Any enlightening piece of משנה
Type of Argument
Qualitative
Qualitative
Quantitative
Quantitative
Much of the debate here centres around the role of הכמהand how it is transmitted
from teacher to student, however we are not provided with more details on what exactly
הכמהis. The Bavli, in section five of this sugya, recognizes this, and will ask itself: “ מאי
? ”הכמהWhat is wisdom? 14 But here, no such question is asked. Rashi himself seems to
acknowledge the frustrating ambiguity of this unit, feeling the need to elucidate every
single one of the definitions provided, even when we might assume there should be no
need (for example, he defines מקרא, one of the most basic and universally understood
terms, as “Torah, Prophets, and Writings”).15 Attempting to delineate the one who
teaches חכמה, Rashi argues that it refers to one who explains the meaning behind the
Mishnah; how to understand hidden meanings; and the laws of prohibited, permitted,
obligated, and exempt behaviour; and that all of this study is referred to as – גמרא
gemara.16 Further, he understands “most of ”חכמהto refer holistically to an understanding
of Tanakh, Mishnah, and gemara together.17 Rashi’s understanding of what wisdom is for
14
For a brief primer on the concept of wisdom in the Talmud, see: David S. Shapiro,
“Wisdom and Knowledge of God in Biblical and Talmudic Thought,” Tradition 12:2
(1971).
15
Rashi on bB. Metz. 33a, s.v. מקרא
16
Rashi on bB. Metz. 33a, s.v. שלמדו חכמה
17
Rashi on bB. Metz. 33a s.v. כל שרוב חכמתו הימנו
118
this gemara (unsurprising, given his project) is thus closely associated with literacy and
fluency.
Other ideas of what counts as חכמהwill be raised in Section Five, where we will
further examine how this sugya attempts to define the elusive term, and look where else
we might turn to for insight to answer the pertinent questions raised here: What
determines the status of a teacher? Is it fluency in a received canon? The teaching of an
abstract skill known as wisdom? The depth of quality in the relationship with a student?
Or a quantitative assessment of breadth of impact? For now, it is enough to say that
through these four attempts to define the teacher in question, we see how being a teacher
is not only a professional title or a casual description of one who has taught something.
We see how the hierarchy of subject matter can have an impact on the status of a teacher,
and how teacher, student, and subject matter are all intimately related, each having a
significant impact together on defining one’s role.
The second unit flows directly out of the first. Rava and Shmuel provide examples
from their own lives of who counts as the teacher in question:
אמר רבא כגון רב סחורה דאסברן זוהמא ליסטרון שמואל קרע מאניה עליה ההוא מרבנן
.דאסבריה אחד יורד לאמת השחי ואחד פותח כיון
Rava said: For example, Rav Sehora [is my teacher], as he explained to
me zuhama listeron. Shmuel rent his garment over one of the Sages who
explained to him (the meaning of a mishnah that describes keys that opened a
compartment in the Sanctuary): One (key for the inside lock. He would insert
his arm) up to his armpit (and reach) down (and open the lock). And [the
other] one which [the priest] opened directly.18
For Rava, such a teacher is Rav Sehora, who explained to him the meaning of the
highly technical mishnaic term ( זוהמא ליסטרוןa kitchen tool combining a spoon and a
18
bB. Metz. 33a
119
fork).19 For Shmuel, it is an anonymous teacher who explained a mishnah20 about how a
priest would open a door in the Temple complex. Here, the Bavli is taking a position in
line with R’ Yossi, that one who teaches even one small mishnah counts as the teacher in
question. We see a picture of the important relationship these two rabbis had with their
own teachers, of formative moments that led Shmuel, for example, to mourn the loss of
his teacher as a child would mourn their parent or a spouse would mourn their partner.21
Here, again, the teacher’s identity as a quasi-spouse/life-partner emphasizes the familial
nature to their relationship. But the mishnayot that qualified their teachers to achieve this
status are, in fact, quite obscure. They are highly precise, technical topics with seemingly
little immediate relevance for either of the Rabbis in question,22 and little chance that
they would have had a lasting impact on their lives, given that neither lived during the
time of Temple worship.23 But it is precisely the fact that one might consider these to be
insignificant lessons that gives them heft. Even teaching the most questionable or obscure
mishnah qualifies one to be considered one’s teacher – that is how powerful the act of
teaching is.24
19
mKelim 13:2
mTamid 3:6
21
On the importance of mourning the loss of one’s teacher, see also bMo’ed Qat. 25a.
22
This is purely speculative on my part, but the only other appearance of the term זוהמא
ליסטרוןin the Bavli is in a baraita at bHor. 13b, which also happens to be found in a
sugya discussing education. There, it is said that eating meat from a זוהמא ליסטרוןis
among ten factors that make studying difficult. Here, in our sugya, I wonder if Rava is
said to be grateful for Rav Sehora’s instruction on the appropriate use of this utensil,
particularly because of its superstitious association with proper study.
23
These mishnayot come from Kodashim and Toharot, the final two sedarim of the
Mishnah dealing with the laws mostly or only applicable during the time of the Temple.
See pg. 6, and 126-127 for further discussion on the relationship of these orders to the
discussion of wisdom and knowledge.
24
Rabbi Aaron Panken has suggested to me that what qualifies one to be considered
one’s teacher may also include here the elements of deep knowledge and the solving of
20
120
The final unit of this third section includes a teaching from Ulla that tries to refine
the definition of the teacher in question:
אמר עולא תלמידי חכמים שבבבל עומדין זה מפני זה וקורעין זה על זה ולענין אבדה במקום אביו
.אינן חוזרין אלא לרבו מובהק
Ulla says: The Torah scholars who are in Babylonia rise before one another
and rend [their garments] over one another’s [death]. But with regard to a lost
item where one’s father [and one’s teacher lost an item], one returns [the lost
item] only to his most significant teacher.25
Ulla points to a practice where all of the scholars of Babylonia would rise out of respect
for one another26 and would mourn each other when one another died, not just reserving
the practice for their own teachers. However, in the case of returning the lost item of the
mishna, Ulla argues that between one’s father and one’s teacher, in choosing to whom he
should first return an object, he chooses only his – רב מובהקhis “distinguished” or “most
significant teacher. This is something of an astounding suggestion. Performing k’ria – the
tearing of clothes in mourning – is only incumbent upon immediate family members.27
For all of the sages of Babylonia to perform this act for each other, but to reserve
returning a lost object first for a certain class of teacher, indicates the remarkable degree
to which this kind teacher was held.
The term רב מובהקappears only in two other instances in the Bavli, which can
further sharpen our understanding of who this distinguished teacher is. A רב מובהק, says
Abaye, is a teacher deserving of extra reverence above and beyond others. Ordinarily,
annoying questions that others were not able to answer, indicating both care for the
student’s questions and a reservoir of understanding that is profound.
25
bB. Metz. 33a
26
On standing in the presence of one’s teacher, see bBer. 27b-28a; bEruv. 28b; bKid.
33a-b; bHor. 13b
27
bMo’ed Qat. 26b
121
one stands only within four amot (cubits) of one’s teacher, but for a רב מובהק, one must
stand whenever they are within eyesight.28 Similarly, the Bavli indicates that while a
student should accompany an ordinary teacher on a journey up to a parsa (a historical
Persian unit of measurement), they should accompany their רב מובהקup to three
parsaot.29 These three definitions are descriptive rather than determinative. They do not
tell us how one comes to be considered a רב מובהק, only that the role exists, and that it
enjoys certain privileges indicating a higher esteem. Rashi’s opinion in our sugya is that
it refers to the teacher from whom a student gleaned most of their חכמה, for example, the
head of a yeshiva.30 In addition to describing a hierarchy of potential teacher-student
relationships, what seems to be significant about this term is its relationship to
measurements of distance and physical proximity to one’s teacher. Elsewhere, the Bavli
also focuses on this aspect of the teacher-student relationship,31 indicating an awareness
of the intimacy – both proximal and spiritual – of the relationship between the two
parties.
The third section of our sugya helps shape the various boundaries of the teacher’s
role and how it is evaluated, with particular attention to the teacher-student relationship.
While the content of this section attempts to achieve precision in definition (what
determines the possessive element of רבו, i.e. what counts as his teacher; what is )?חכמה,
ultimately, no conclusions have yet been reached. But the values behind the sugya
permeate through and through. Indeed, the specific content presented here seems to be
28
bKid. 33a
bSot. 46b
30
Rashi on bB. Meṣ. 33a, s.v. לרבו מובהק
31
See bYoma 37a, 53a-b; bMeg. 28a; bB. Metz. 59b; bSanh. 68a; bHul. 91a
29
122
secondary to the underlying principles. We are presented with critical questions facing
any teacher: is success based on general knowledge imparted to a student, or fidelity to a
particular curriculum?32 Is it measurable, based on the quantity of knowledge taught?
Must the material learned have immediate, practical worth? Or are these metrics less
helpful, with the ideal teacher-student relationship being determined only by whether a
teacher has taught any knowledge at all? We will see how these questions continued to be
tackled, as the sugya rounds out its consideration of what it means to be a teacher.
SECTION 4
תלמיד וצריך לו רבו: HIS TEACHER NEEDS HIM
The fourth section of our sugya presents a brief aggadah about R’ Hisda and R’
Huna and their scholarly relationship. It is a story of mistaken identity, almost humorous
in nature, were it not for the gravity of emotion felt by each of the rabbis:
קבעי מיניה רב חסדא מרב הונא תלמיד וצריך לו רבו מאי אמר ליה חסדא חסדא לא צריכנא לך
את צריכת לי עד ארבעין שנין איקפדי אהדדי ולא עיילי לגבי הדדי יתיב רב חסדא ארבעין תעניתא
.משום דחלש דעתיה דרב הונא יתיב רב הונא ארבעין תעניתא משום דחשדיה לרב חסדא
Rav Hisda raised a dilemma before Rav Huna: [If there is] a student, and his
teacher needs him, what [is the order of precedence? Rav Huna] said to him:
Hisda, Hisda, I do not need you, you need me for forty years! [They grew]
angry with each other, and each did not enter to [visit the] other. Rav Hisda
observed forty fasts due to [the fact] that Rav Huna was offended. Rav Huna
observed forty fasts due to [the fact] that he suspected Rav Hisda [was
referring to their relationship].33
R’ Hisda’s question inverts the orientation to our mishnah. Up until now, the assumption
of the gemara has been that given their respective roles, it is a student who owes
32
This very question is picked up throughout the Bavli, as it considers various
approaches to curricular design and what counts as literacy. Chapters 7 and 8 examine
this topic.
33
bB. Metz. 33a
123
something to their teacher (rights of precedence, honour, respect, etc.). R’ Hisda, in an
attempt to further clarify the order of precedence of returning lost objects, asks a pointed
question: “What if the teacher needs something from the student?” That is, what if, as a
result, the teacher then owes something to the student – would that impact the level of
deference owed? Our sugya is prompting us to consider: what if the traditional power
structure is inverted? It suggests that the relationship between a teacher and student is not
solely unidirectional, but, like other intimate relationships, might benefit both parties.
Certainly, this is an idea not unfamiliar to the Bavli.34
The exact nature of this need, however, is left undefined. While for R’ Hisda this
seems to be a purely hypothetical question, albeit one with practical implications, R’
Huna is not impressed. Mistakenly, he assumes that R’ Hisda was talking about him, and
in his fury, asserts that he has no need for R’ Hisda, and furthermore that it is the opposite
which is true. R’ Hisda is taken aback, and the two enter into a cycle of anger, each
avoiding the other. While disturbing and saddening given the personal history of these
two rabbis,35 this moment is also remarkably human, shedding light on the fragility of
ego, and its impact on a teacher’s ability to teach and a student’s ability to learn.36 This
destructive interaction also raises constructive questions about the nature of teaching:
•
What level of self-reflection is required by a teacher of their own needs from their
students?
34
bTa’an. 7a; bB. Metz. 97a
The rabbis of our aggadah were initially both students of Rav, and together known as
– חסידי דבבלthe righteous of Babylonia (bTa’an. 23b). After Rav’s death, R’ Huna
ascended to lead his academy.
36
For a contemporary examination of the role of ego in teaching, and the teacher’s desire
to be liked by their students, see Adam Greteman and Kevin J. Burke, The Pedagogies
and Politics of Liking (New York: Routledge, 2017).
35
124
•
Notwithstanding the nature of the student-teacher relationship that has already
been presented, to what extent is a student dependent upon their teacher, and in
what ways?
•
As a corollary, to what degree should a teacher perceive their student as
dependent upon them?
•
What is sufficient evidence that a student has mastered their studies and graduated
from needing their teacher as an instructor? The text suggests an astounding forty
years of study – clearly an embellishment, given other descriptions of courses of
study the Bavli posits.37
•
What obligations do students and teachers have to maintain the functioning of
their relationship? Note that here, while R’ Hisda and R’ Huna both observe fasts
of contrition, they are not recorded as apologizing face-to-face.38
•
Just how resilient does a teacher need to be when students do things that are
hurtful? If the growth of the student is the goal, how much do the feelings of the
teacher matter, and when should a teacher just let something painful go instead of
retaliating?
Perhaps this brief aggadah is included in our sugya not only because of the potential
implications on the question of property law that R’ Hisda raises, but also because of its
association with the pedagogical question: “who is one’s teacher?” R’ Hisda and R’ Huna
37
bKet. 50a; See bKid. 29b-30a; b.B Bat. 21a-22a
The Bavli notes that following the incident recorded here, R’ Hisda still maintained
respect for his colleague-turned-teacher-turned-rival, and refrained from issuing halakhic
decisions out of deference to him (bEruv. 62b, and see more on this practice at bSanh.
24a). Likewise, R’ Huna insisted that his son, Rabba, attend R’ Hisda’s lectures (bShab.
82a).
38
125
shared a teacher in Rav, and now R’ Huna is R’ Hisda’s teacher. The disruption in their
relationship opens up a new question not yet considered in this sugya: “who is not (or, no
longer) one’s teacher?” That is, what is the impact on a teacher and a student of not
recognizing or fulfilling one’s role as a teacher? Put another way: What happens when
the relentless pursuit of knowledge and wisdom erodes the very framework through
which that pursuit is meant to occur? Here (and elsewhere),39 the Bavli treats this
question not from a legalistic paradigm, but from a distinctly human perspective, and so it
stands out starkly from the surrounding halakhic arguments. We see R’ Hisda and R’
Huna without an idealized veneer, naked in their humanity – angry and sad at each other,
alone without each other.
This section, a brief narrative aside in the flow of our sugya, presents crucial
questions as to the understanding of the role of a teacher. It poses them both practically,
relating to pedagogy, and humanely, relating to a teacher’s own awareness of their role
and identity. We have seen the effort that the Bavli expends to emphasize the unique and
significant nature of the relationship between a teacher and their students. Here, we
encounter a test of that relationship. The distinct impression one gets from its inclusion in
this sugya is an awareness that if this relationship is as significant as it has been
portrayed, all the more so must it be nurtured with care and attention.
39
See Jeffrey Rubenstein’s “The Violence of Debate” (54-66), and “Shame” (67-79) in
The Culture of the Babylonian Talmud.
126
SECTION 5
מאי חכמה: WHAT IS WISDOM?
Our sugya now returns to the makhloket from Section Three, and quickly begins
to narrow the debate as to the identity of the teacher in question:
איתמר רב יצחק בר יוסף אמר ר' יוחנן הלכה כרבי יהודה רב אחא בר רב הונא אמר רב ששת
ומי אמר רבי יוחנן הכי והאמר רבי יוחנן הלכה כסתם משנה ותנן רבו שלמדו.הלכה כרבי יוסי
.חכמה מאי חכמה רוב חכמתו
It was stated Rav Yitzhak bar Yosef [says that] Rabbi Yohanan says:
[The] halakhah [is] in accordance with Rabbi Yehuda. Rav Aha bar Rav
Huna [says that] Rav Sheshet says: [The] halakhah [is] in accordance with
Rabbi Yosi.
And did Rabbi Yohanan say that? But doesn’t Rabbi Yohanan say:
[The] halakhah [is always] in accordance with an unattributed mishnah; and
we learned: His teacher, who taught him wisdom. What [is the meaning
of] wisdom? [It means] the majority of his wisdom.40
R’ Yitzhak bar Yosef and R’ Aha bar R’ Huna defend respectively the minimalist and
maximalist positions from earlier in this debate. Interrogating these two sides, the gemara
draws on its own hermeneutical principle that in the case of a makhloket, the halakhah is
decided according to the anonymous voice of the Mishnah ()הלכה כסתם משנה.41 We finally
have our (supposedly) definitive answer: רבוis the teacher who taught חכמה. Immediately,
the Bavli wants to understand what counts as חכמה, and defines it as – רוב חכמתוmost of
his wisdom. The Bavli clearly understands this to be a quantitative rather than a
qualitative question. Intriguingly, however, the next section moves the discourse to a
qualitative analysis of different curricula, establishing a hierarchy of study, but in doing
so, only tangentially addresses חכמה. For the time being, we are frustratingly still left with
40
41
bB. Metz. 33a
See also bShab. 156; bBeitz. 37b
127
a significant question: what counts, qualitatively, as wisdom? Without a definitive answer
here, it is necessary to examine some other sources which can help shed light on the term.
Five representative examples from across the Bavli describe what חכמהmight
entail. Though not definitive, they help us grasp the diversity of interpretation that makes
it difficult to define the term qualitatively. Most broadly, חכמהcan be (a) an allencompassing term for a body of knowledge, functioning much the same way that
“wisdom” does in English. We can see this in its use in the term ( חכמה יווניתGreek
Wisdom).42 This example is particularly helpful as a counterpoint to our sugya from Bava
Metzi’a, as it indicates that חכמהis not an exclusively Jewish concept, and can have a
meaning beyond a technical, halakhic term.
חכמהmight be (b) mastery of a more particular body of knowledge. A very helpful
gemara from masekhet Shabbat, itself part of a wider discussion on pedagogy,43 takes up
the same question we are asking:
אמונת זה. ' ו( והיה אמונת עתיך חוסן ישועות חכמת ודעת וגו,אמר ר"ל מאי דכתיב )ישעיהו לג
סדר זרעים עתיך זה סדר מועד חוסן זה סדר נשים ישועות זה סדר נזיקין חכמת זה סדר קדשים
.ודעת זה סדר טהרות
Reish Lakish said: What is the meaning of that which is written: “Faithfulness
to Your charge was [her] wealth, wisdom and devotion [her] triumph…”
(Isaiah 33:6)? “Faith” is the order of Zera’im (Seeds), “Your times” is the order
of Mo’ed (Festivals), “Strength” is the order of Nashim (Women). “Salvation”
is the order of Nezikin (Damages), “Wisdom” is the order of Kodashim
(Consecrated Items), and “Knowledge” is the order of Toharot (Purities).44
42
bSot. 49b; bB. Qam; bMen. 64b
This example, analyzed exhaustively, is perhaps the most famous discourse on
education in all of the Bavli, about the convert who comes to Rabbis Hillel and Shammai
and asks for them to teach Torah while he stands on one foot.
44
bShab. 31a
43
128
Examining a verse from Isaiah, Reish Lakish’s answer, full of metaphor, ascribes
a different seder of Mishnah to each of these terms. According to him, חכמהis equated
with seder Kodashim, which deals with the laws of consecrated items. It is fascinating
that both חכמהand דעתare assigned to what are traditionally understood to be the two
most difficult orders of Mishnah, suggesting that they are associated with particularly
esoteric and challenging thinking.
There is also an interesting dichotomy in play for Reish Lakish, for the Amoraim,
and for us, with this association. These are the same two sedarim mentioned earlier in
association with Rava and Shmuel.45 Like before, on the one hand, their content is among
the least immediately practical, given their relationship to the non-existent Temple.46 On
the other hand, it is this very association which makes them especially noteworthy. Rava
and Shmuel indicated earlier that their most significant teachers are the ones who taught
them material from these very sedarim. Here, we learn that this material is associated
with the essence of wisdom and knowledge. The actual content, focusing on ritual purity
and Temple rites, points to a relationship with a desired future redemption. Viewed
against the Bavli’s emphasis on the transcendent power of learning and teaching,47 we get
the sense that חכמהrefers both to a specific mastery of a body of knowledge, and also to
behaviours that might hasten the spiritual and physical redemption of the Jewish people.
חכמהmight have applicability as (c) a pedagogical term describing a way of
speaking. An extended sugya in masekhet Eruvin48 discusses students and learning at
45
See pg. 118
These are also the two seders that the Bavli dwells the least on when it comes to
matters of learning and education.
47
See bBer. 8a; bSanh. 99b
48
bEruv. 53a-55a
46
129
great length, and there, we encounter the phrase לשון חכמה,49 literally meaning “language
of wisdom,” but translated variously as “speaking enigmatically,” or “cryptic, allusive
language and wordplay,”50 Rashi understands the term to mean speaking in a way that
other will not understand.51
Elsewhere, חכמהis (d), an even narrower term describing the practical knowledge
of how to do something, a concrete skill, such as blowing a shofar.52 Finally, another
gemara attributed to Rava narrows the definition of חכמהfurther to describe (e) a virtue
that is the outcome of study:
מרגלא בפומיה דרבא תכלית חכמה תשובה ומעשים טובים שלא יהא אדם קורא ושונה ובועט
…באביו ובאמו וברבו ובמי שהוא גדול ממנו בחכמה ובמנין
Rava had a habit of saying: The objective of wisdom is repentance and good
deeds, so that one should not read Tanakh and study Mishnah, [and then] and
spurn his father and his mother and his teacher and one who is greater than he
in wisdom or in the number [of their students]… 53
Rava’s understanding is markedly different than the idea of חכמהpresented in our sugya
from Bava Metzi’a. Here, חכמהis not a curriculum of study or quantifiable knowledge (in
fact it is presented in opposition to this: a student might possess knowledge of Tanakh
and Mishnah, but have no wisdom), nor a practical skill that one learns. Instead, it is a
more abstract mindset, attitude, or orientation to the wider world, one directed toward
repentance and good deeds.54 It is also something that, as observed earlier, can be
measured. In keeping with Rava’s attunement to humility, 55 this gemara is also
49
bEruv. 53b. See also Hirshman, Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 150, n 25.
Hirshman, Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 56
51
Rashi on bEruv. 53b, s.v. בלשון חכמה
52
bShab. 117b
53
bBer. 17a
54
The ideas of חכמהand תשובה ומעשים טוביםare also twinned at bNed. 32b
55
bMo’ed Qat. 28a
50
130
particularly cognizant of the risk of arrogance associated with intense study,56 and
presents a vision of learning that mitigates against this.
Thus we have five new ideas of what חכמהmight entail:
a) A generic term for a body of knowledge
b) Mastery of a specific body of knowledge
c) A pedagogical term describing a way of speaking
d) A practical skillset
e) A virtuous orientation
It may also be that leaving חכמהunder-defined may actually allow for a broader
understanding of what is included in the necessary learning, plus permit some fluidity for
that definition to change over time and place.57 Whatever specific definition or
definitions of חכמהthe redactors of our sugya had in mind, it is worth mentioning as a
concluding note to this section that through this sugya, the Bavli understands both a
teacher and wisdom to be things that can be possessed or things with which one can be in
relationship ( רבוand )חכמתו. However, in this case, the text, conceptually, is concerned
exclusively with defining who the teacher is and not what the wisdom is. Yes, the Bavli
asks מאי חכמה, but understands this to be a question of numbers, not of philosophy. In this
instance, חכמהis more of a technical term with which to evaluate the teacher in question,
rather than a pedagogical concept useful for developing a curriculum.58 Perhaps the Bavli
56
See the account at bTa’an. 20b of a rabbi who descends from Migdal Geder (the walled
tower) a figurative “ivory tower,” and condescends those who he deems of lesser
intelligence than him.
57
Thank you to my advisor, Rabbi Aaron Panken for suggesting this interpretation.
58
Rashi, too, seems perplexed by the lack of definition, suggesting that חכמהhere is
relative: if one studies Tanakh, then it is Tanakh; if one studies Mishnah, then it is
Mishnah. (Rashi on bB. Metz. 33a, s.v. )רוב חכמתו
131
is suggesting that wisdom and knowledge, while among the most important pursuits in
the Talmudic worldview, are not to be hoarded. Yes, חכמהis something that can be had,
stored within the brain, but the Bavli here is less concerned with defining the possession
of חכמהand much more concerned with the relationship with a teacher that made that
possession possible in the first place. Indeed, the Bavli repeatedly emphasizes learning in
order to teach, and exhorts against learning without teaching.59 Teacher and students may
enter into remarkably intimate and possessive relationships, but the things they learn,
theoretically, belong to everyone. 60 Teachers and scholars are extolled as being among
the most valuable members of a community, and honoured to an extraordinary extent, yet
the very thing which makes them valuable cannot, in theory, be exclusively possessed.61
Thinking broadly of our four commonplaces, this evokes an orientation where
student, teacher, and subject matter are intricately interwoven. Depending on how one
views their relationship, the subject matter ( )חכמהmay be most significant, as it
transcends the boundaries of human relationships, or it may be comparatively the least
significant, lacking a precise definition.
59
bEruv. 53b-54a; bSuk. 49b; bRosh 23a; bMeg. 28b; bKid. 29b; bSanh. 99a-100a
At least all those who are entitled to study and are considered within the normative
boundaries of the learning community (see Chapters 3 and 4).
61
Having said this, note also that the Bavli records that there were specialist teachers who
had knowledge in areas, including of particularly challenging topics, that others did not
(see bShab. 114a; bYoma 38a-b; b.B Metz. 97a; bSanh. 67b, 68a, 101a; bHor. 13b-14a.
See also Jeffrey Rubenstein’s chapter on “Elitism” in Culture of the Babylonian Talmud,
123-142.
60
132
SECTION 6
גמרא אין לך מדה גדולה מזו: THERE IS NO GREATER VIRTUE THAN GEMARA
Having devoted itself thus far to defining the teacher-student relationship, the
final unit of our sugya culminates in a debate about what kind of learning should take
place within that union.
ת"ר העוסקין במקרא מדה ואינה מדה במשנה מדה ונוטלין עליה שכר גמרא אין לך מדה גדולה
הא גופא קשיא אמרת בגמרא אין לך מדה גדולה מזו.מזו ולעולם הוי רץ למשנה יותר מן גמרא
בימי רבי נשנית משנה זו.והדר אמרת ולעולם הוי רץ למשנה יותר מן הגמרא אמר רבי יוחנן
שבקו כולא עלמא מתניתין ואזלו בתר גמרא הדר דרש להו ולעולם הוי רץ למשנה יותר מן
.הגמרא
The Sages taught: [Those] who engage in Bible, [it is] a virtue but not [a
complete] virtue. [Those who engage] in mishnah, [it is] a virtue and they
receive reward for it. [Those who engage] in gemara, you have no virtue
greater than that. And always pursue [study] of mishnah more than gemara.
This itself [is] difficult, [since] you said: you have no virtue greater than
gemara. And then you said: And always pursue [study] of mishnah more
than gemara. Rabbi Yohanan says: During the era of Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi],
this baraita was taught. [As a result, everyone abandoned mishnah and
pursued gemara. Then [Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi] taught: and always pursue
[study] of mishnah more than gemara.62
We return to three familiar educational terms from the sugya in our previous chapters:
מקרא, משנה, and גמרא. In three successive statements, a hierarchy is built up where מקרא
and משנהare each said to be a – מדהa virtue – however one with caveats. Tanakh study is
virtuous, but not fully so. Mishnah study is virtuous, and merits one rewards, but it is
גמראwhich is said to have no virtue greater than it. These terms and their relationship to
each other will be unpacked shortly, but for the time being, it is important to consider the
description of each as a מדה.
62
bB. Metz. 33a-b
133
The term מדה, translated here as “virtue” can also mean a character trait or
personality attribute,63 or alternatively a value of measurement.64 Note here the similarity
to the English term “value,” which can either be a conceptual, ethical term (e.g. “I have
many values”), or a numerical, evaluative term (e.g. “What is that object’s value?). The
Bavli seems to be playing homiletically on the qualitative/quantitative debate which has
extended throughout our sugya,65 and is asking us: what “counts” as being one’s teacher?
Is it a specifically quantifiable amount of learning (as the sugya has intimated thus far), or
is it learning that has qualitative value based on the subject or the method of study? Is it
the breadth of one’s instruction, or the depth? By using the term – מדהwhich has both
qualitative and quantitative connotations – in this sugya about what counts as one’s
teacher, the Bavli tightens its argument, suggesting that it is both the quantitative amount
of חכמהthat is taught, but also the relative value of the חכמהthat is taught. This is
reflective of the wider debate between valuing the broad knowledge of halakhah,
compared to a deep understanding of its jurisprudential principles. This debate, in fact, is
about to rear its head once more.
The use of מקרא, משנה, and גמראhere has the potential to be confusing. While
מקראrefers to the study of Tanakh and משנהto the rote study of Mishnah, גמראrefers not
to the entire text of the Bavli, but to a particular type of Torah study – “the analytical,
dialectical kind of Torah study, the examination of the reasoning behind both Scripture
63
See bBer. 54a, 60b or bEruv. 100b
See bEruv 29b; bPes 32a
65
Note also that מידותis a tractate of the Talmud and Mishnah in seder Kodashim. The
relationship here to the earlier connections to Kodashim may not be anything other than
purely coincidental. But perhaps, given the association explored earlier, this baraita’s
inclusion is an intentional “name-drop” on the part of the editors.
64
134
and tradition”66 – that is at the apex of a curricular hierarchy. Rashi, thematically weaving
this unit with those that came before, observes that גמראhere refers to a style of learning
that helps one understand the hidden meaning of the Mishnah, how to resolve
contradictions, and the words of the Tannaim and their disputes, and that one who has
this ability is known as a חכם.67 The argument that חכמהin the first baraita parallels גמרא
in this baraita,68 is thus a less explicit definition of the term we went to great lengths to
try to define, but one that helps resolve the protracted exploration.
Yet while גמראclearly occupies the most noble level of study, the baraita insists
that משנה, or the rote mishnaic style of study, should be pursued more. This is perplexing.
The Bavli itself is aware of this self-contradiction, and immediately interrogates it: R’
Yohanan argues that at the time of R’ Yehuda HaNasi, the study of Mishnah had become
diminished, and thus while the גמראstyle of learning was preferred, Mishnaic learning
was encouraged as a stopgap against its demise. Vidas, amazed by this phenomenon,
casts the Bavli’s use of this baraita as “outrageous,” as it “interprets the last part of the
baraita, which recommends משנהover גמרא, as a self-serving teaching of the Mishnah’s
66
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 120. See also bEruv. 60a and bGit.
6b for more on this distinction.
67
Rashi on bB. Metz. 33a, s.v. גמרא. This is remarkably similar to his definition at
bB. Metz. 33a, s.v. שלמדו חכמה. See pg. 116.
68
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 118-119.
135
author.”69 Thus, while potentially audacious, the Bavli can absolve itself of presenting an
ideology that advocates a “lesser” form of learning.70
There is a clear polemic here against the pre-Talmudic form of learning. As a
dialectical form of learning, גמראhere is explicitly oral, and presented in opposition to the
rote learning of Mishnah, which by this point had been written down. We see here
evidence of the shift in pedagogical goals from the Tanaaitic to Amoraic periods,71 and
the new emphasis the Amoraim or Stammaitic redactors want to place on the appropriate
form of instruction.72 For the latter Sages, the written tradition was seen as separating the
crucial link between teacher and student, and fomenting disengagement and distancing.73
This was antithetical to the Amoraic/Stammaitic project, given the quasi-marital nature of
the relationship between teacher and student. Instead, the dialectic so prized by the
Amoraim and Stammaim fostered “a cognitive closeness and unparalleled internalization
of the text recited.”74
This argument sharply “redraws the boundaries of rabbinic identity,” 75 and works
to solidify the definition of who counts as one’s teacher as the one who teaches גמרא.
69
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 126. Vidas has an excellent
analysis here of this sugya from a source-criticism perspective, where he seeks to unravel
the various textual strands that might have been redacted together. His analysis is
supremely helpful in decoding the ambiguity and paradoxes within this sugya, however
offers less of a thematic analysis of the content.
70
This, of course, begs the questions why the redactors included this text in the first
place. Aaron Amit notes that this is perhaps due to the baraita being of composite
structure, and that the statements were not originally taught together. (Aaron Amit, “The
Homilies on Mishnah and Talmud Study at the Close of Bavli Bava’ Metsi’a 2 and
Yerhusalmi Horayot 3: Their Origin and Development,” JQR 102 (2012).
71
Hirshman, The Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, vi.
72
See also bGit. 60b for the tension within the Bavli between written and oral traditions
73
Kanarek and Lehman, Learning to Read Talmud, 168.
74
Kanarek and Lehman, Learning to Read Talmud, 168.
75
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 126.
136
Vidas concludes: “Only the rabbi who initiates one in this creative kind of study (talmud,
or wisdom), in contrast with the one who teaches oral tradition (Mishnah) counts as one’s
rabbi.”76 Ultimately, the relationship between teacher, student, and subject matter here
suggests an evolving pedagogy: yes, only the rabbi who teaches a particular kind of study
counts as one’s teacher, but we see how that kind of study evolved over time, and was
responsive to the needs of the local community.77
The Bavli’s Isaiah prooftext for its argument that there is no greater virtue than
gemara returns us to the dichotomy between תלמידי חכמיםand עמי הארץ, and reinforces a
strong moral hierarchy and class distinction:
א( הגד לעמי פשעם ולבית,מאי דרוש כדדריש רבי יהודה ברבי אלעאי מאי דכתיב )ישעיהו נח
הגד לעמי פשעם אלו תלמידי חכמים ששגגות נעשות להם כזדונות ולבית יעקב.יעקב חטאתם
חטאתם אלו עמי הארץ שזדונות נעשות להם כשגגות והיינו דתנן ר' יהודה אומר הוי זהיר בתלמוד
.ששגגת תלמוד עולה זדון
[On] what interpretation [was it said that there is no virtue greater than gemara?
It] is as Rabbi Yehuda, son of Rabbi Elai, interpreted homiletically: What [is
the meaning of that] which is written: “declare to My people their transgression
and to the house of Jacob their sins” (Isa. 58:1). “Declare to My people their
transgression,” these are the Torah scholars, whose unintentional
[transgressions] become for them tantamount to intentional [transgressions].
“And to the house of Jacob their sins,” these are the am’ei ha’aretz, whose
intentional [transgressions] become for them tantamount to unintentional
[transgressions] And that is [why] we learned [that] Rabbi Yehuda says: Be
careful in talmud, as a [transgression based on] an unintentionally [incorrect]
study is considered an intentional [transgression].78
תלמידי חכמיםare revered and held to a higher standard that has halakhic implications
beyond the pedagogical, to the extent that even their accidental transgressions are
76
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 120-121.
Of course, it is unlikely, given their vociferous commitment to their pedagogy and their
belief in its eternally transcendent value, that the Amoraim or Stammaim would argue
that this form of study could change again.
78
bB. Metz. 33a-b
77
137
considered intentional, as they should have known better.79 Conversely, – עמי הארץthe
“others par excellence,”80 are assumed to be ignorant of the law, such that their
transgressions, even if intentional, are considered unintentional. The stringencies and
leniencies advocated here suggest on the one hand a rather rigid social hierarchy, but
pedagogically, might be generously said to represent a significant attention to the
individual abilities of students. Notwithstanding this generosity toward the text, the class
distinction is certainly palpable here – one’s learning has an impact not just on one’s
esteem in the eyes of the community, but one’s legal status as well. There is a strong
argument here regarding the responsibility a teacher must simultaneously have toward the
subject matter, the students, and the wider community.81 Thus, the sugya’s marshalling of
a pointed mishnah from Avot to drive the implications home: ( הוי זהיר בתלמודbe careful in
your study).82 The Bavli argues that teacher and learners must be particularly precise in
their focus and use of text, lest they bring punishment upon themselves and others.83
79
For more on the distinction between intentional and unintentional transgressions, see
bYom. 36b, 86b; bHag. 5a, bSanh. 61b-62a; bShev. 2b, 12b, 28b 31b
80
Vidas, “Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud,” 124.
81
Compare to the discussion on what merits one to become head of a yeshiva at bBer.
27b-28a; bShab. 1114a)
82
mAvot 4:13
83
I am reminded of Daniel Gordis’ aphorism quoted on page 23 of this thesis, warning
against “pinning the tail on the rabbinic aphorism” as an educational model, as well as the
following teaching relayed to me by my own teacher, Rabbi David Wilfond: “Teachers
are more dangerous than doctors. A doctor can only harm one patient at a time, but a
teacher can harm a room full of students all at once.” Of course, the more positive inverse
is also equally true: while a doctor can save only one life at a time, a teacher can save a
room full of lives all at once. Perhaps this is this underlying philosophy behind the
Bavli’s inclusion of teachers among a list of professions (including bloodletters, tree
planters, ritual slaughterers, and town scribes) which are considered in the class of
“ – ”מותרין ועומדין דמיthose who are forewarned as being responsible for the restitution of
any losses (later understood as including fines, wage-docking, or summary dismissal) that
are incurred in the line of their work. See bB. Bat 21b and bB. Metz. 109a-b).
138
Our sugya concludes with a further investigation of a verse from Isaiah, and once
again returns the conversation to questions of identity, bringing together many of the
groups we have discussed this far: תלמידי חכמים, בעלי מקרא, בעלי משנה, עמי הארץ, and עובדי
כוכבים:
ה( שמעו דבר ה' החרדים אל דברו אלו תלמידי,דרש ר' יהודה בר' אלעאי מאי דכתיב )ישעיהו סו
שמא.חכמים ]אמרו[ אחיכם אלו בעלי מקרא שנאיכם אלו בעלי משנה מנדיכם אלו עמי הארץ
תאמר פסק סברם ובטל סיכוים ת"ל ונראה בשמחתכם שמא תאמר ישראל יבושו תלמוד לומר
:והם יבושו עובדי כוכבים יבושו וישראל ישמחו
Rabbi Yehuda, son of Rabbi Elai, interpreted [a verse] midrashically. What [is
the meaning of that] which is written: “Hear the word of the Etermal, you who
tremble at God’s word,” these are Torah scholars; “your brothers…have said,”
these are masters of the Bible, “that hate you,” these are masters of Mishnah,
“that ostracize you,” these are am’ei ha’aretz.84
This final section, through a drash on Isaiah, establishes clear distinctions between
groups based on their learning and the subjects of their learning:
•
תלמידי חכמיםare those who tremble before God
•
בעלי מקראare their brothers, who study a lesser curriculum (Tanakh), but are
apparently not viewed as pejoratively as others
•
בעלי משנהare said to be haters (note the wordplay, as observed by Rashi,85
between משנהand – שנאto hate)
•
עמי הארץare said to ostracize themselves due to their ignorance and distance from
learning
Clearly, the Bavli is moving far beyond the intended meaning of the biblical text to
advance its argument. As earlier, the Bavli argues from an identity-based perspective by
84
85
bB. Metz. 33b
Rashi on bB. Metz. 33b, s.v. שנאיכם אלו בעלי משנה
139
focusing its polemic on distinctly named groups of people, rather than only on the
approaches to learning associated with them. Underneath the surface is a discussion on
what is an appropriate curriculum of study, but the sugya here focuses intensely on
boundaries of identity, going to the extreme of portraying those who study Mishnah as
those who hate God, and placing them in the same camp with עמי הארץ.86
Our sugya began with a question as to who qualifies as one’s teacher, and now
concludes with an argument extolling the analytical method of study associated with גמרא
and the תלמידי חכמיםaffiliated with this mode.87 In doing so, the Bavli “effectively denies
rabbinic identity to all other types of scholars, who stand here in distinction with the
sages just like ‘am ha’arets.”88 Vidas’ structural analysis of this sugya provides a crisp
synopsis of the argument that has run throughout:
Already in the first baraita, which discusses lost property, the Bavli began the
process of identifying “wisdom” with “talmud” by adding the word mishnah
to R’ Meir’s definition of what does not count as “wisdom.” Since the name
for rabbis or sages, hakhamim, is derived from the same root as wisdom,
hokhma, the definition of the former, achieved by middle of the sugya,
obviously prepares the definition of the latter. The creators of our sugya clearly
identify with the “masters of talmud”; they present them not only as superior
but as the “real rabbis,” the only ones worthy of the name “sages.” Those
occupied with other kinds of Torah study are not only excluded from this
category but are equated with non-rabbinic Jews.89
And yet, the Bavli concludes this sugya (and the perek itself) with a surprising turn away
from its hypercritical segregationist approach to education. In what seems like a last-
86
Vidas notes that this drasha on Isaiah is not found in any other classical rabbinic
works, and as it serves the rabbis’ self-promotional agenda so well, it is likely to have
been composed by the Bavli’s creators. (Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the
Talmud, 128).
87
See bMeg. 28b, bSot. 22a, and bKid. 49a-b for other examples of when תלמידי חכמיםare
presented in opposition to בעלי מקראand בעלי משנה
88
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 127-128.
89
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 131.
140
minute attempt to redeem those it has spent considerable time demeaning, the text draws
upon the latter half of the verse from Isaiah it has just quoted, to set up a new dichotomy
between Jews and non-Jewish idol-worshipers. In a final, terse statement that closes the
entire perek, the Bavli argues: עובדי כוכבים יבושו וישראל ישמחו- idol worshippers will be
ashamed and Jews will be joyous. This new identity-based division suggests that while
the Bavli’s redactors here view certain groups of Jews (בעלי מקרא, בעלי משנה, and עמי
)הארץas neglecting the most important kinds of learning, and thus distancing themselves
societally, philosophically, and pedagogically, there is an outer boundary that they have
not yet crossed. This hopeful vision perhaps speaks to the perceived redemptive power of
education referred to at the very beginning of our sugya’s mishnah, and elsewhere
throughout the Bavli:90 If a teacher can bring a student into the world-to-come, all the
more so might they be able to redeem those who have transgressed societal norms on
earth.
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
Through what appeared to be a straightforward attempt to discuss חכמה, we entered
into a wide-ranging analysis of what makes one considered one’s teacher. Some strong
common themes emerge:
•
Both quality and quantity of learning contribute together to determine who counts
as one’s teacher.
•
A teacher is not only a professional title or a casual description of one has taught
something, but a highly specific term that implies a relationship both to material
studied, and to the learner whom one is teaching.
90
See also bB. Metz. 85a; bSanh. 101a
141
•
The teacher is viewed simultaneously as one who has transcendent powers to
usher students into Olam HaBa, but is also imminently personal and intimate,
bearing some characteristics of a spouse.
•
This contributes to the strong sense that a teacher is seen as worthy of honour,
even more than one’s own father (who is, ideally, himself one’s teacher). Like the
student in chapter 4, this contributes to a vision of the teacher as a distinct
identity, surrounded by strong ideological and pedagogical boundaries.
•
A hierarchy of subject matter and associated methods to learning impacts the
status of a teacher (idealizing גמראas the highest of approaches).
•
The Bavli also presents crucial questions for any teacher to consider:
o What should one’s focus be as a teacher? Fostering fluency in a particular
received canon, teaching skills, or imparting general wisdom?
o Is quality or quantity of learning more important?
o How does one assess the depth or breadth of a student’s learning?
o What sense of students’ needs should a teacher have, and to what degree are
they in need their students, themselves?
o What proximity should one have to one’s students – Physically? Spiritually?
o What counts as wisdom?
Having journeyed through the Bavli’s arguments as to what qualifies one to be
one’s teacher, we can step back and compare this definition with a few others that shed
light on how tremendously our text views the importance of the teacher-student
relationship. In one instance, the Bavli inquires: “”למי נאה ללמד בהמון מי שכל תבואה שלו
(literally: “For whom is it appropriate to teach an abundance of people? One for whom all
142
that can be brought in, belongs to him”), essentially meaning: “who can teach many
people? One who has investigated Tanakh, Mishnah, Halakhot, and Aggadot.”91 Note the
marked distinction in quality and quantity to our sugya. While in order to be considered
one’s teacher, one must have taught one’s student most of their knowledge, and in a
particular fashion ()גמרא, this text from Makkot is remarkably open in its definition of
who is permitted to teach (and to a large, public group, no less!). It focuses on breadth
over depth, and on the specific subject matter, rather than on the relationship to the
community.
Elsewhere, the Bavli asks:
'איזהו ת"ח שממנין אותו פרנס על הציבור זה ששואלין אותו דברהלכה בכל מקום ואומר ואפי
.במסכת כלה
Who is a Torah scholar who can be appointed leader of the community? This
is one who, if asked [about] matters of halakhah on any topic, they [are able
to] answer, even [if they are asked about the] tractate [of the current] Kallah.92
This teacher-leader must be prepared to answer any halakhic question from anywhere in
the Mishnah, even if it is the topic currently being learned at the Kallah.93 Here again, the
focus is solely on subject matter (again, breadth over depth), over any relationship with
student or approach to study, as the defining fact in determining one’s fitness to lead.
In this same sugya, the Bavli asks who else is fit to be a communal leader, and
answers that even one who knows only one masekhet of Mishna may be appointed a local
leader, and that one who is an expert in all of their learning is fit to be appointed head of
91
bMak. 10a and Rashi ad loc, s.v. שכל תבואה שלו
bShab. 114a
93
For more on the nature of the kallah, see Goodblatt, Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian
Babylonia, 155-170.
92
143
a yeshiva: “.”בחדא מסכתא באתריה אי בכוליה תנויה בריש מתיבתא94 Elsewhere, the qualifications
for head of the yeshiva are said to be based on wisdom, wealth, and familial lineage,
without any serious degree of interrogation as to what these credentials entail.95
Compared to our sugya, there is a conspicuous dearth of focus in these instances on what
merits one needs for such a significant position. In many ways, comparatively, they
suggest that positions of institutional leadership – while clearly important – are more tied
to intellectual knowledge, while the specific position of being one’s teacher, as we have
seen, weaves tightly together questions of material, pedagogy, and relationship.
Our sugya masterfully approaches the question of who is a teacher in a surprising
way. The initial fiscal concerns that open the perek are, as Dr. Marjorie Lehman
observes, “merely the foundation for a larger and more significant discussion about loss
in general – the loss of the authority of Torah, the loss of prophecy, the loss of the
Temple, the loss of honesty, the loss of a Jewish community, and the loss of rabbinic
authority.”96 This holistic focus on Torah, community, and authority will also be
addressed in the next two chapters, as we examine how the Bavli views subject matter.
94
bShab. 114a
bBer. 28b-28a
96
Marjorie Lehman, For the Love of Talmud: Reflections on the Teaching of Bava
Metzia, Perek 2 (Journal of Jewish Education, 68:1, 2006), 89 and 101, n6-11.
95
144
CHAPTER 7
“חיים
”אורחות
“THE PATHS OF LIFE:”1
THE SUBJECT MATTER
1
bBer. 28b
145
In some ways, the question of what the Bavli says about subject matter is a simple
one. Clearly, the Bavli’s chief focus is interrogating the Mishnah and interpreting Torah.
These are the subject matters par excellence. But of course, it is more than that, as
Mishnah and Torah are the launching ground for great discourses on the plethora of
matters deemed interesting or relevant by the Amoraim and Stammaim. The Bavli’s
understanding of what counts as knowledge and wisdom has already been touched on in
the previous commonplaces, and now we can explore some of the more explicit ideas of
what it is that should be learned, and what kind of questions should be asked in
considering this. Schwab’s questions in this regard help frame our examination: What
counts as a worthy subject matter? What is its nature? How much influence should it
have over other educational considerations? What are the boundaries of what is
acceptable learning material? What is the balance between the search for truth and the
construction meaning?2 Between theory and practice? To what extent is cultural literacy
sufficient when held up against developing critical thinking and analytical skills?3 (These
last two questions were largely addressed already through examining the role of the
student). In considering these questions, the Bavli pays particular attention to fleshing out
a vision of what the material, by its very nature, demands of us.
We can characterize what the Bavli has to say about subject matter into five major
categories:
1. The Canon: Lists of what material is learned
2. Extracanonical Learning: Material and experiences outside of the primary canon
2
3
Schwab, “The Practical: A Language for Curriculum,” 21.
Schwab, “The Practical: A Language for Curriculum,” 16.
146
3. The Nature: What is the subject matter like?
4. The Demand: What claims does the material hold on us?
5. Forbidden Knowledge: What is outside of the boundaries of normative
learning?
Note that some of these categories noticeably overlap. For example, a metaphor on the
nature of the Torah emphasizing its high esteem may simultaneously establish certain
demands on students, teachers, or the learning environment (as we will see in the sugya
from Hagigah examined in the next chapter).
לא הניחHE DID NOT NEGLECT: THE CANON
One of the most comprehensive lists of what the Bavli views as relevant subject
matter appears toward the end of the second perek of masekhet Sukkot, amidst a wider
discussion on idealized students, noble character traits of teachers, and the role of the beit
midrash. If we want to parse what the Bavli deems as a worthy syllabus, this is an
excellent launching point:
אמרו עליו על רבן יוחנן בן זכאי שלא הניח מקרא ומשנה גמרא הלכות ואגדות דקדוקי תורה
ודקדוקי סופרים קלים וחמורים וגזרות שוות תקופות וגימטריאות שיחת מלאכי השרת ושיחת
דבר גדול מעשה מרכבה.שדים ושיחת דקלים משלות כובסין משלות שועלים דבר גדול ודבר קטן
…דבר קטן הויות דאביי ורבא
[The Sages] said about Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai: he did not neglect
Tanakh, Mishnah, Gemara, halakhot and aggadot, subtleties of the Torah and
subtleties of the scribes, a fortiori inferences and verbal analogies,4 [the
calculation of the] seasons, gematria,5 the conversation of ministering angels,
the conversation of demons, and the conversation of palm trees,6 parables of
4
These are two of the hermeneutical principles the Talmud uses to interpret Torah. See
pg. 167, n9.
5
Numerology.
6
These esoteric matters are indeed baffling. Rashi flatly declares: “I don’t know what
these are” (Rashi on bSuk. 28a, s.v. )שיחת מלאכי השרת שיחת שדים שיחת דקלים. For more,
147
launderers, parables of foxes,7 a great matter and a small matter. A great
matter [is, for example,] the Design of the Chariot,8 a small matter [is, for
example], the disputes of Abaye and Rava.9
This list is germane for framing our study of the rabbinic canon, as it reflects one of the
dominant ways the Bavli understands learning material: there are specific texts which are
meant to be studied, and there is an intimate relationship between the subject and the
methods of analyzing it. In this instance, we can see the Bavli’s attempt to set noticeably
wide boundaries to frame the relevance of that material (great, transcendent matters and
small, routine matters), and the inclusion of particularly esoteric matters. The field of
study, for Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai, is comprehensive, including the key Jewish texts,
practical matters, hermeneutics, as well as matters which are otherwise viewed as
verboten. Its breadth and depth enable us to ask: is this the ideal syllabus of study? Is it
what counts as wisdom for the Bavli? Or is it a presentation of a particularly rare and
high level of knowledge, something to which others might aspire?
Amos Oz and Fania Oz-Salzberger observe the eclecticism of this list and note
that what Yohanan ben Zakai does here is “what the Talmud often does to the Bible:
see: Burton L. Visotzky, “The Conversation of Palm Trees,” in Tracing the Threads:
Studies in the Vitality of Jewish Pseudepigrapha (Ed. John C. Reeves, SBLEKKL 6,
Atlanta: Scholars 1994), 205-214 and John C. Poirer “The Tongues of Angels: The
Concept of Angelic Languages in Classical Jewish and Christian Texts,” (WUNT 2,
Heidelberg: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 120-131.
7
See another reference to parables of foxes at bSanh. 38b-39a. For more on these
folktales, see: Eli Yassif, The Hebrew Folktale: History, Genre, Meaning (Bloomington:
Indiana University, 2009), 261-262.
8
This refers to Ezekeiel’s vision of the divine chariot (Ezek. 1:4-28), part of a
particularly reserved body of knowledge.
9
bSuk. 28a.
148
transforming Proverbs’ concept of wisdom – legal, political, and practical – to a
Talmudic sort of wisdom, bookish. Many books. All manner of books.”10
Indeed, this is a particularly wide view of the canon; it is not entirely definitive or
normative (aside from Tanakh and Mishnah), and we will see other examples that are
narrower, including only one or two elements of this list, as well as others that indicate
other subject matter not included here.
Broadly, when speaking of the canon, we can divide the Bavli’s focus into two
spheres: (a) lists of or references to specific texts which are to be learned,11 and (b)
references to subjects which appear within those texts.12 The first sphere features the key
formative sources of Jewish thought and practice for the Bavli: Torah, Tanakh, and
Mishnah, as well as collections of other rabbinic material (Tosefta, Sifra, Sifrei), and
more generic collections (Halakhah, Aggadah). When considering these texts, note that
the very names of some of the subjects – ( מקראthat which is read), and ( משנהthat which
is repeated) – are influenced by the understanding of how they are meant to be studied.
Attention to the nomenclature in its native language is thus particularly important, as
Handelman notes:
…the Hebrew term which would be equivalent to the English word “Scripture”
is not “Torah” but “Mikra” - meaning “what is put in writing in order to be
read.” One needs to be precise and not confuse “Torah” and “Mikra,” a
distinction which is lost when these words are translated into other languages
and culture.
Jews…“are not the People of the Book… and God did not choose a people of
readers, nor of libraries… [Rather, they are] the people of the word of One who
10
Amos Oz and Fania Oz-Salzberger, Jews and Words, 22.
bBer. 8a, 11b; bSuk. 28a; bMeg. 28b; bHag. 3a; bKet. 17a, 33a-b, 50a, 82a; bKid. 30a,
33a, 49a-b; bB. Metz. 33a-b, 84a; bB. Bat. 134a; bSanh. 24a, 99a-101a
12
bShab 31a; bEruv. 28b; bPes. 6a-b; bSuk 21b, 28a, 42a; bRosh 7a, 16a and Rashi ad
loc.; bMeg. 29b; bHag. 6a, 12a, 15a-b; bAZ 19a-b
11
149
gave this ‘word’ to be put in writing in a book.” [This] distinction is subtle but
important. It is also a warning to guard against the “idolatry” of writing and the
kind of teaching and learning which that would imply.13
The second sphere includes a greater diversity of subjects, ranging from the
halakhic (e.g. mitzvot d’rabbanan),14 to the explicitly non-legal (e.g. the non-halakhic
conversations of Torah scholars),15 to subjects that appear to be only tangentially related
to the canon (e.g. counting the letters of the Torah),16 to subjects that seemingly have no
practical purpose.17 There does not appear to be any internal coherence here, aside from
the relationship to the primary texts and the primary respected leaders and their actions.
There are also several instances which can be grouped in with the first sphere, but
deserve special mention, where the Bavli outlines texts to be studied, with a particular
historical awareness of what was studied in the past compared to ssits present. For
example, a comment by Rav Pappa to Abaye that appears in a number of parallel sources
throughout the Bavli notes that while earlier generations learned only Seder Nezikin, their
generation (fifth generation Babylonian Amoraim) learns all six sedarim of Mishnah.18
I think it is worth commenting briefly here (and in greater detail in section four of
this chapter) on the status of this canon qua canon. Does the Bavli advocate the study of
all of these enumerations of texts and subjects for normative legal reasons, or as a
formative, culturally enriching body? Moshe Halbertal’s distinction between these two
orientations is helpful:
A text’s canonical status has various layers. It may have a binding status,
13
Handelman, Make Yourself a Teacher, 8.
bHag. 6a
15
bSuk. 21b
16
bHag. 15a-b
17
bZev 45a
18
See: bBer. 20a; bTa’an. 24a-b; bSanh. 106b
14
150
establishing what the law is and how one should act… Another sort of
canonization – which we shall call “formative” – has a broader cultural
significance, establishing the educational structure of a given community. A
formative canon contains the texts to which members of a community are
exposed in their schools and recreational activities. The formative canon
generates the community’s collective memory and makes it possible to speak
and write in a manner that presumes unmediated familiarity with a collection
of texts. In effect, it establishes the terms in which people understand
themselves and one another. The formative canon is interpreted and taught; and
in the Jewish world, in which the study of Torah is a core value, the diligent
and rigorous engagement with the formative literature bears powerful spiritual
significance.
Not every canonical text performs both functions – normative and formative –
simultaneously… Within the Jewish world, the Talmud acquired a dual role,
both normative and formative. It serves not only as a normative text, telling
one how to behave, but also as a text worthy of constant reflection – some
would say exclusive reflection – that provides its students their language and
manner of thought.19
Halbertal’s comment on how the Talmud itself has come to be viewed as both formative
and normative is didactic, but it is the applicability of these two frames to the canon
proposed by the Bavli itself that is interesting to consider, as we read more of the nature
of the subject matters, and question how the material itself places a claim upon its
teachers and students. The Bavli itself seems to be aware of the need to define precisely
the syllabus of study, and to know what each text entails. In one instance, a sugya
interrogates “?( ”איזו היא משנהwhat is entailed by Mishnah?) and “?( ”מאי תורהwhat
subjects are meant by the term Torah?)20 Elsewhere, the Bavli specifically delineates the
term מקראas applying only to Torah, and not Nevi’im or Ketuvim.21 We have also seen
the hierarchy of disciplines and approaches to study present in the Bavli,22 and a sugya in
19
Moshe Halbertal, Maimonides: Life and Thought (Trans. Joel Linsider; Princeton:
Princeton University, 2014), 184-185.
20
bKid. 49a-b
21
bKid. 30a
22
See pg. 86-89
151
Hagigah makes explicit that even though a canon may include multiple texts together,
those texts may enjoy different status: “אמר רב כיון שיוצא אדם מדבר הלכה לדבר מקרא שוב אין
( ”לו שלוםRav said: Once a person leaves [the study of] halakhah, [even] for [the study]
of Torah, he will no longer have peace).23
These representative examples demonstrate how for the Bavli, even though the
text may at times present a unified canon, the subject matter within contains different
formative and normative status. We will see more of these distinctions in section four of
this chapter.
תורה היא וללמוד אני צריך: THIS (TOO) IS TORAH, AND I MUST LEARN:24
EXTRA CANONICAL LEARNING
A famous sugya in Berakhot graphically details the kind of learning that might take place
in the most unsuspected of places: in bathrooms, and, in this excerpt, beneath a marital
bed:
רב כהנא על גנא תותיה פורייה דרב שמעיה דשח ושחק ועשה צרכיו אמר ליה דמי פומיה דאבא
כדלא שריף תבשילא א"ל כהנא הכא את פוק דלאו אורח ארעא אמר לו תורה היא וללמוד אני
.צריך
Rav Kahana entered and lay beneath [his teacher] Rav’s bed. He
heard [Rav] talking and laughing with his wife, and seeing to his needs, (i.e.,
having sex). [Rav Kahana] said to [Rav]: The mouth of Abba, (Rav), is
like [one whom] has never tasted this dish, (a euphemism meaning that his
behavior was lustful). [Rav] said to him: Kahana, you are here? Leave,
as [this] is an undesirable mode of behavior. [Rav Kahana] said to him: This is
Torah, and I must learn.25
23
bHag. 10a
bBer. 62a
25
bBer. 62a
24
152
Rav Kahana’s defence after being called out is at once startling and illuminating: rather
than apologizing for acting uncouthly,26 he brazenly declares “”תורה היא וללמוד אני צריך
(This is Torah, and I must learn). The story ends there, with no rejoinder from Rav or his
wife, indicating some degree of acceptance of this answer, both by the characters internal
to the story, as well as by the sugya’s redactors.27
This sugya has been studied extensively,28 but suffice it to say, beyond its
inherent dramatic allure, it is particularly revealing when considering what counts as
learning material (and also what is an appropriate learning milieu, as will be discussed in
chapter 10). Boyarin observes that the most crucial moment in the story is Rav Kahana’s
labeling of his teacher’s sexual intercourse as Torah, and his justifying his behaviour as
coming from a place of a desire to learn. Torah here, as Boyarin argues, “is not the
written word, not Scripture, but the behavior of the rabbi/master. The rabbinic project is
to subsume everything under the control of Torah…”29 Indeed, the euphemism used to
describe Rav’s having sex – “( ”ועשה צרכיוseeing to his needs), is associated closely with
Rav Kahanah’s description of his need to learn: “אני צריך.”30
26
See bNid. 16b-17a on the prohibition from having sex in front of others.
The Bavli does pick up again on this story briefly in bHag. 5b, but offers no critique of
Rav Kahana’s behaviour.
28
See, for example: Gail Labovitz, “Is Rav’s Wife ‘a Dish’? Food and Eating Metaphors
in Rabbinic Discourse of Sexuality and Gender Relations,” Studies in Jewish Civilization
18 (Creighton University, 2008); Daniel Boyarin, Carnal Israel: Reading Sex in
Talmudic Culture, (rev. ed.; Berkeley: University of California, 1995), 122-127; Daniel
Boyarin, “Women’s Bodies and the Rise of the Rabbis: The Case of Sotah,” in Jews and
Gender: The Challenge to Hierarchy, (Jonathan Frankel, ed.; Oxford: Oxford University,
2000), 94-95; and Jonathan Wyn Schofer, Confronting Vulnerability: The Body and the
Divine in Rabbinic Ethics (Chicago: University of Chicago, 2010), 66 n 22, and 63-67.
29
Boyarin, Women’s Bodies and the Rise of the Rabbis, 94.
30
Rabbi Lisa Gruschow, “This, Too Is Torah,” in The Sacred Encounter: Jewish
Perspectives on Sexuality (ed. Lisa Gruschow; New York: Central Conference of
American Rabbis, 2014), xxi.
27
153
What does this tell us about how the Bavli views learning? For one, the
boundaries of what is deemed valid subject material extend far beyond the Jewish textual
canon. The acts of rabbis also constitute a kind of Torah, since they are (presumably)
based upon Torah. Recall the remarkable labelling of R’ Eliezer ben Hyrkanus himself as
a sefer Torah.31
Furthermore, Rav Kahana’s statement suggests that the very definition of Torah,
at least figuratively, is malleable. It is not just that learning about intimate matters in situ
from one’s teacher is valid above and beyond the traditional canon, but that it is
subsumed into an already valid, existing category, called Torah.
This is perhaps the most extreme example of redefining the canon, though other
examples of this kind of observational subject matter exist,32 as well as a surprising
comment that had the Torah not been given, people would still be able to learn certain
fundamental Toraitic commandments just by observing the natural world.33 Finally, there
is a discernable focus by the Bavli within this category on trades as an important subject
of study – not for intellectual purposes, but for livelihood. The text approaches this from
a distinctively pedagogical stance, not just advocating employment, but emphasizing the
responsibility to teach children a vocation.34
This survey of non-canonical learning demonstrates some peculiar, though
enlightening approaches to education by the Bavli. For all of the emphasis on devoting
31
See pg. 104 and bSanh. 101a.
bBer. 7b; bTa’an 24a-b; bHag. 5b (the previous two examples prior to the one quoted
here)
33
bEruv. 100b
34
bBer. 35b, 63a; bShab. 33b; bKid. 29a-b, 30a; 82a-b; bB. Metz. 30b; bMak. 8b
32
154
extraordinary time and energy to more formal religious study,35 we see that the
boundaries around what counts as something valid to learn are more expansive than
might be expected. Likewise, there are certain topics which appear to override other
fairly clear (at least in the contemporary world) rubrics on teacher-student relationships.
Finally, in the text that we briefly examined here, we see that the construction of meaning
can be firmly in the hands of the student, who is able to declare to his teacher (who is
likely both literally and figuratively caught naked), “This is Torah! You might not think it
is, and the Torah itself might not, but I do. I find it valuable and meaningful, and I am
laying claim to this educational experience!”
למה נמשלו דברי תורהWHY WERE MATTERS OF TORAH COMPARED TO…:36
THE NATURE OF THE SUBJECT MATTER
Answering the question “what is the subject matter like?” of course depends on
what subject matter one is speaking of, and the Bavli, as we have seen, addresses multiple
materials. Our next chapter deals with this question in particular, so by way of
introduction, we will cover a broad overview of the representative material here. Of
course, when considering what is learned, Torah is paramount. There is an abundance of
sources that describe what Torah and other material are like, which I have broadly
delineated into three categories: (a) comments on the stylistic/structural features of texts,
35
36
See pg. 49
bEruv. 54a-b
155
and their implication on studying,37 (b) emphasis on the status of the material (which is
primarily, but not exclusively Torah),38 and (c) metaphors for Torah.39
In addition to the Bavli’s argumentative style and use of poetic devices, Rabbi
Ethan Tucker notes that the stylistic features of the Bavli itself almost always naturally
direct students to an awareness of challenges within the text. He particularly addresses its
logical structure, and notes that a “pedagogy of looking for problems,” may be encoded
within the text itself.40 It is not just what the Bavli says, but how it presents these
arguments, that carries weight.
Within the stylistic realm, metaphors occupy a remarkable amount of attention in
the Bavli, often serving as vantage points for the rabbis or editors to assemble other
arguments on the status and/or requirements of Torah and its study. The Bavli draws
frequently on features of the natural world, as well as objects that people would be
familiar with from their daily lives, presumably in an attempt to comment on the
universal applicability and life-sustaining powers of of Torah. Notable examples include
multiple comparisons of Torah to water,41 to agriculture,42 and to positive abstract
37
See pg. 167, n9
See bBer. 22a; bEruv. 63b; bPes. 49b, 122a; bYoma 19b, 37b-38a; bTa’an. 27b; bMeg.
3a-b, 27a; bHag. 9a-10a; bNed. 62a; bGit. 60a-b; bB. Metz. 33a-b; b.Sanh 49b; 91b-92a;
99a-100a, 101a; bAZ 17b-18a
39
For more on the role of metaphors in Bavli, see: Gail Labovitz, Marriage and
Metaphor: Constructions of Gender in Rabbinic Literature (Lanham: Lexington Books,
2009); Lynn Kaye, Time in the Babylonian Talmud: Natural and Imagined Times in
Jewish Law and Narrative (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2018), 88-89; Hirshman,
Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 184, s.v Educational Metaphor; Rubenstein, Culture of
the Babylonian Talmud, 220, s.v. Metaphors.
40
Ethan Tucker, Looking for Problems: A Pedagogic Quest for Difficulties, in “Learning
to Read Talmud,” 35-56.
41
bTa’an. 7a; bHag. 3a; bKid. 30a; bAZ 19a-b; bTem. 16a
42
bEruv. 54a-b; bTa’an 7a; bHag. 3b; bSanh 107a
38
156
concepts, such as kindness, goodness, or truth.43 These metaphors in particular suggest
that for the rabbis, the Torah not only sustains life, but sustains a particularly good life.
קבע ואל תעשםWORDS OF TORAH MUST BE PERMANENT,
NOT TEMPORARY:44 THE DEMAND
The Bavli’s understanding of the nature of subject matter often bears weight
directly upon how it is meant to be studied and taught. There is both an awareness of
what a student or teacher needs to bring to studying and teaching, but also what the
subject being studied can do to the student. Jon Levisohn, sharing the words of an
undergraduate Talmud student, illustrates this idea:
“When it comes to Talmud study, the point is to interact with the Torah in a
special way, to see the beauty in many different perspectives, and to understand
the thought processes involved in arriving at those perspectives.” What this
student is proposing… is that reading Talmud is a matter of context-sensitive
encounters… more than the acquisition of knowledge.45
Sometimes the ideas on the way a text is meant to be studied have profound pedagogical
implications that open up the subject matter, as in the sugya from Hagigah in the next
chapter. Conversely, sometimes they reflect an identity-based approach to education, and
a desire to reinforce boundaries of certain protected material.46 At other times, the
demands seem, prima facie, to have no immediate educational relevance. A brief
example from masekhet Shabbat illustrates this. Here, amidst a wider discourse on the
same topic, we encounter three rabbis discussing their virtuous character traits, and who
43
bBer. 5b; bSuk. 49b; bB. Metz 30b; bAZ 19b
bYoma 19b
45
Jon Levisohn, What We Have Learned about Learning to Read Talmud, in “Learning
to Read Talmud,” 212.
46
This is addressed in the next section of this chapter. See also, for example, the
discussion at bHag. 14a as to who is permitted to learn “the Secrets of Torah.”
44
157
might be most worthy of reward. While the immediately surrounding conversations
follow a similar formula, they focus primarily on ritual matters or personal piety. Here,
our attention is caught by the noticeable and distinctive shift in subject to include students
and teachers:
ואמר אביי תיתי לי דכי חזינא צורבא מרבנן דשלים מסכתיה עבידנא יומא טבא לרבנן אמר רבא
תיתי לי דכי אתא צורבא מרבנן לקמאי לדינא לא מזיגנא רישי אבי סדיא כמה דלא מהפיכנא
בזכותי' אמר מר בר רב אשי פסילנא ליה לצורבא מרבנן לדינא מ"ט דחביב עלי כגופאי ואין אדם
.רואה חובה לעצמו
Abaye said: May I receive [my reward because] when I see a young Torah
scholar who has completed [studying] a tractate, I make a feast for the teachers.
Rava said: May I receive [my reward] because when a young Torah scholar
comes before me for judgment, I do not rest until I seek his merits.
Mar bar Rav Ashi said: I am disqualified to judge a young Torah scholar. What
is the reason? Because [the Torah scholar] is as beloved to me as myself, and
a person does not find fault in himself.47
Each element of this trifecta shares at least two of our commonplaces: all have a student
and a teacher, while Abaye’s scenario also introduces subject matter. The element upon
which the narrative hinges in each scenario is a different commonplace, which I believe
may be an intentional decision on the part of this sugya’s editors. Let us move backwards
through each to see how they compare: for Mar bar Rav Ashi, the defining factor is
himself – the teacher – and his own self-awareness. Yes, he displays profound love for
his student, but the text specifically indicates that this love emerges from a self-love,
rather than from any particular characteristics within the student. The focus is squarely on
the teacher. Note how this is markedly different from our middle scenario. Here, Rava
exhausts himself to seek out every possible merit in his students, so that they will not be
47
bShab. 118b-119a
158
judged unfairly. The focus here shifts to the student and their own worth. In the first
scenario, Abaye selflessly celebrates a student’s learning. What on the surface thus
appears to be an example of Abaye’s own virtues – as he shows respect to the teachers
and celebrates the young student’s learning – may in fact be a deeper statement on the
pull of the subject matter itself. Note that Abaye’s feast is not for the student but for their
teachers, and while this feast is meant to commemorate the student’s completion of a unit
of learning and the teachers’ roles in it, it is only the masekhet itself that determines the
occasion of this celebration – not any particular effort on the part of the student or the
teachers.
The distinction among these three compact scenarios is key: each puts forth a
situation where one of our commonplaces is the determining factor in the potential
reward, and it is in the first instance, which brings together student, teacher, and subject
matter, where there is the most obvious distinction. We know nothing of this educational
interaction aside from the fact that the student completed a study unit. I believe this
points to an understanding of the particular relationship of the subject matter to its
students and teachers, and to the claim it places upon them.
These claims vary wildly depending on the text and the context, however one
notices that in its attempts to define and set the parameters for a body of knowledge, the
Bavli also has in mind certain demands48 that the corpus is meant to place on the
community surrounding it.
48
In particular, as we have seen, advocating a rigorous course of study.
159
ארור אדם שילמד לבנו חכמת יווניתCURSED IS THE ONE WHO
TEACHES HIS SON GREEK WISDOM:49 FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE
Much of our examination has demonstrated how the Bavli wants to empower students
through learning. Now, as we consider the subjects of that learning, we also encounter the
Bavli’s awareness that certain matters are out of bounds. The Bavli devotes considerable
attention to establishing boundaries of identity around students and teachers (sometimes
flexible, sometimes firm), and when it comes to forbidden knowledge, there are
frequently intersections between identity and material. The Bavli understands knowledge
to have power, so it is understandably protective or afraid of that power, depending on
whether it is internal or external to the canon. Broadly speaking, the category of
forbidden knowledge can be easily divided in two: Jewish material and non-Jewish
knowledge. Within each category, there are then varying degrees of prohibitions: some
material is expressly forbidden to all, some has limits placed on when, how, and where it
may be studied, while other kinds of knowledge are reserved for certain types of people
(usually a privileged few).
The question of blanket bans, for example, can be seen in an ongoing debate
throughout the Bavli on whether or not Greek Wisdom50 is a permissible body of
knowledge. In some instances, it is outright prohibited, while in others, there is a leniency
expressed.51 One example from Sotah demonstrates the range of parameters, where the
Bavli questions: is a given subject matter permissible if it falls outside the boundaries of
49
bSot. 49b
And more broadly, any non-Jewish literature (see, for example, bHag. 15a-b; bSanh.
100b)
51
bHag. 15a-b; bSot. 49b; bB. Qam. 82b-83a; bMen. 64b, Men 99a-b
50
160
the normative canon? What if there are compelling reasons to permit it? How firm or
porous are the lines drawn?
איני והאמר רבי בא"י לשון...ארור אדם שיגדל חזירים וארור אדם שילמד לבנו חכמת יוונית
סורסי למה אלא אי לשון הקודש אי לשון יוונית ואמר רב יוסף בבבל לשון ארמי למה אלא או
. לשון יוונית לחוד וחכמת יוונית לחוד.לשון הקודש או לשון פרסי
Cursed is the person who raises pigs, and cursed is the person who teaches his
son Greek wisdom… Is that so? But didn’t Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi] say: In
Eretz Yisrael, why [should people speak] the tongue of Syriac (the dialect of
Aramaic spoken in Eretz Yisrael? Rather, [they should speak] either the sacred
language, (Hebrew), or the Greek language. And Rav Yosef said: In Babylonia,
why [should they speak] the (vernacular) language Aramaic? Rather, [they
should speak] either in the sacred language, or the Persian language.
(The Bavli now notes the difference between the two cases, with the former
being permitted, but not the latter): Greek language is discrete and Greek
wisdom is discrete.52
The comparison of Greek wisdom53 to pigs is a sharp example of one extreme of
just how verboten Greek wisdom was – entirely outside of the realm of normative
Jewish behaviour, quite literally treyf (un-kosher, that is, unfit). “What the pig is to
Jewish ritual,” observes Simon Goldhill, “Greek wisdom is to intellectual and
social life.”54 And yet, the Bavli notes that despite this antipathy, the ban was not
complete: Greek language was actually spoken.55 Indeed, a sense of pragmatism
wins the day. Rashi comments that one of the reasons these rabbis permitted Greek
52
bSot. 49b
For more on forbidden knowledge, and the status and influence of Greek wisdom in the
eyes of the Bavli’s rabbis, see: Sacha Stern, Jewish Identity in Early Rabbinic Writings
(AGJU, 23; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 176-182; Jacob Howland, Plato and the Talmud
(Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2011); and Moulie Vidas, “Greek Wisdom in
Babylonia,” in Vol. 1 of Envisioning Judaism: Studies in Honor of Peter Schäfer on the
Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday. (ed. R. Boustan, et al.; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
2013) 287-305.
54
Simon Goldhill, Who Needs Greek?: Contests in the Cultural History of Hellenism
(Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2002), 1.
55
Indeed, the Bavli is suffused with Greek terminology!
53
161
to be spoken in the Land of Israel was its proximity to Greece, and the fact that the
Greek language was “beautiful.”56
Elsewhere, firm boundaries are enforced and closely tied to questions of
identity. For example, two of the most arcane topics within all of Jewish thought,57
( מעשה מרכבהthe account of the prophet Ezekiel’s vision of God’s chariot), and
( מעשה בראשיתthe mystical account of the creation of the cosmos) have strict limits
placed on what elements are permissible to learn, who (and how many people) are
permitted to study them, and how they must be taught.58 They are collectively
referred to as ( סתרי תורהthe Secrets of Torah), and the Bavli demonstrates a
concern over them that is both about the nature of the material itself – too
sacrosanct, potentially too dangerous – but also on how students and their teachers
interact with each other surrounding that material.
One last conception of forbidden knowledge is worth mentioning. In several
scenes throughout the Bavli set in the beit midrash, a rabbi uses the phrase פוק תני
לברא, meaning “go teach it outside,”59 to dismiss the discussion of material deemed
unfit for learning within the beit midrash. In each of these scenarios, the rabbis do
not try to quash its teaching in general, but instead indicate only that it must be
taught elsewhere. This unwillingness to debate is highly uncharacteristic of the
rabbis. They are not portrayed as engaging in a makhloket, searching, as they
56
Rashi on bSot. 49b, s.v. או לשון יווני
See also: Adam Kirsch, “The Talmud’s Mysticism Is Too Mindblowing Even for Its
Students.” No pages. [23 September 2014] Online: http://www.tabletmag.com/jewishlife-and-religion/185014/daf-yomi-99
58
See bPes.119a; bHag. 11b; 13a-14a
59
bShab, 106a; bEruv. 9a; bYoma 43b; bBeitz. 12b; bYev. 77b; bB. Qam. 34b; bSanh.
62a, 62b
57
162
normally would, for a more binding prooftext. Instead, they categorically reject the
substance of the argument from the outset. It is noteworthy that in every one of
these instances, the prohibited subject matter is a baraita, Perhaps the authorities in
the beit midrash were uncomfortable with the content of the baraita, but did not
want to cast the Tannaim in a poor light. 60 Certainly, as we have seen, there are
plenty of examples where the rabbis discard undesirable material as heretical. But
that it is not the case here. The implication seems to be a two-way understanding of
the nature of the subject matter in question: it may be inappropriate in this context
and may need to defer to the weightier needs of the learning milieu, but it carries
enough status not to be rejected outright as forbidden.
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
These five spheres present a representative look at how the Bavli understands the
material that is (or isn’t) learned and taught. The canon is wide and deep, and perhaps
with the exception of the place of Torah and Mishnah, there are few declarations, explicit
or implicit, on what the Bavli definitively views as worthy subject matter. Broadly
speaking, though, certain trends emerge which present a degree of consistency in how the
Bavli understands the substance and nature of subject matter:
•
Boundaries of what is acceptable learning material and who can study it are
established firmly, but often demonstrated to be somewhat porous.
•
60
These boundaries are frequently related to identity in addition to intellect.
There is only one certain instance where the Bavli sides with a baraita opposing the
Mishnah’s argument. For more on this and the relative authority of baraitot, see Marcus
Jastrow and Louis Ginzberg, “Baraita; Authority of the Baraita,” JE 2:513-516.
163
•
These boundaries (for both valid and invalid material) extend far beyond the
Jewish textual canon.
•
In terms of frequency of content, the Bavli seems more concerned with
emphasizing the esteem of Torah than articulating a specific syllabus.
•
Likewise, relative to other discussions on the subject matter, the Bavli spends
a great deal of time using metaphor to convey opinions on the nature of
Torah.
•
There is an interrelatedness of educational commonplaces to a significant
degree; the esteem and nature of Torah are not merely platitudes, but carry
significant weight in determining how, where, and by whom Torah is meant
to be studied and taught, and on the nature of knowledge in general.
In the next chapter, we will examine a sugya from Hagigah that deftly
demonstrates each of these factors, and pays very close attention to the nature of Torah
and its direct impact on the lives of those who occupy themselves with it.
164
CHAPTER 8
”נטיעה,
מסמרות נטועים,“דרבונות
“GOADS, WELL-FASTENED NAILS, AND PLANTS:”1
A CASE STUDY ON SUBJECT MATTER
(HAGIGAH 3a-b)
1
bHag. 3bb
165
Aside from the Bavli’s paramount focus on Torah and Mishnah, we have seen an
overview of the other materials and curricula that the Bavli deems worth learning. In
earlier chapters, we have also seen the significant debate that permeates the Bavli
between the broad habitual memorization of this subject matter, and the b’iyyun emphasis
on a deep understanding of the underlying principles. In this more focused examination
of what the Bavli has to say about subject matter, we will (mostly) set this debate aside,
and instead focus not just on what is learned and how it is learned, but on the nature and
perceived relevance of the subject matter. That is, we will try to understand why the
Bavli advocates learning this thing (i.e. Torah) over something else.
Our sugya examining what the Bavli says about subject matter comes from the
first perek of masekhet Hagigah (2a-11b), which deals broadly with the shalosh regalim
and the associated sacrificial offerings that pilgrims were meant to bring to the Temple in
Jerusalem. The first chapter addresses the mishnah’s descriptions of who is obligated and
exempt from bringing the ( ראייהthe burnt offering) and the titular ( חגיגהfestival peace
offering). Our sugya veers sharply away from the focus of the mishnah and of the
gemara’s discussion thus far,2 and turns to discussing a ma’aseh that explores the themes
of the nature of Torah, the specific demands it places upon its learners, as well as the
2
A tenuous connection between the mishnah and this sugya might be in the discussion
here on the הקהל, which is obligatory for the entire community. Just as the gemara earlier
investigates the nature of who is obligated and exempted from the Festival offerings,
including women and minors, here it investigates why various groups (including women
and children) are present at the הקהל.
Note also that earlier, bHag. 3a does include a fascinating interrogation of
whether one must be physically/biologically capable of hearing in order to learn, as well
as the drash earlier referenced (see pg. 34), of Mar Zutra noting the close linguistic
relationship between teaching and learning.
166
relationship with the setting in which it is learned. It can be followed easily through three
thematic sections:
1. A baraita introducing the ma’aseh and the importance of ( חידושיםrabbinic
novellae/innovations)
2. A first drash of the nature of Torah
3. A second example of the nature of Torah
SECTION 1
אי אפשר לבית המדרש בלא חידוש:
THERE IS NO BEIT MIDRASH WITHOUT A HIDDUSH
The opening baraita is dense, and contains within it many indicators of how the
Bavli views the process of learning:
ת"ר מעשה ברבי יוחנן בן ברוקה ורבי אלעזר )בן( חסמא שהלכו להקביל פני ר' יהושע בפקיעין
אמר להם מה חידוש היה בבית המדרש היום אמרו לו תלמידיך אנו ומימיך אנו שותין אמר להם
שבת של מי היתה שבת של ר' אלעזר בן עזריה.אף על פי כן אי אפשר לבית המדרש בלא חידוש
.היתה ובמה היתה הגדה היום אמרו לו בפרשת הקהל ומה דרש בה
The Sages taught: [There was] an incident involving Rabbi Yohanan ben
Beroka and Rabbi Elazar ben Hisma, when they went to greet Rabbi Yehoshua
in Peki’in. [Rabbi Yehoshua] said to them: What hiddush was [taught] today
in the study hall? They said to him: We are your students and we drink your
water! He said to them: Even so, there cannot be a beit midrash without a
hiddush. [He asked them]: Whose Shabbat was it, [They said to him]: It was
Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya’s week. [He asked]: And on what [subject] was the
lecture today? They said to him: [It was] about the [Torah] portion on
“assembly.” [Rabbi Yehoshua asked]: And what did he interpret midrashically
with regard to [this]?3
Opening by introducing a story of R’ Yohanan ben Beroka, R’ Elazar ben Hisma,
and R’ Yehoshua, we immediately find an example of one of the elements of the teacher-
3
bHag. 3a
167
student relationship outlined in chapter 5,4 with the two visiting rabbis going to “”להקביל
(greet) their teacher.5 Eschewing pleasantries, R’ Yehoshua’s greeting draws us in
quickly to the substance of the conversation, as he wants to know what ( חידושinnovation)
was taught in the beit midrash. The students are stunned: how could it be that their
teacher would want to learn from his students something that he didn’t already know?
The deference that the students display toward their teacher is sharp, and we sense their
gobsmacked reaction.6 They are unable to respond directly to their teacher’s request,
other than to affirm their status as students. Their reply – “( ”תלמידיך אנו ומימיך אנו שותיןwe
are your students, and from your waters, we drink) – draws on a prevalent metaphor of
Torah as water,7 and articulates one of the ideas of what the subject matter is akin to: a
life-giving substance, which can be bestowed from one person to another, or by one
celestial being to all the earth. This trope is intimately related to the other examples we
have seen of learning as an organic (in the biological sense) process8 which is said to
embody life itself as well as have the ability to give life. This theme will be picked up
again with an agricultural metaphor later in section two of this sugya.
What follows is an exemplar of one of the sides of the dichotomy played out in
chapter 6 between rote literacy and innovative understanding. R’ Yehoshua’s response is
an emphatic declaration in favour of the ongoing relevancy of Torah and the need for
innovation: “( ”אי אפשר לבית המדרש בלא חידושIt is impossible for there to be a beit midrash
4
See b.Suk 10b, 26a, 27b; bRosh. 16b
This sugya also presents the idea that learning can take place in multiple environments –
at the beit midrash and at home, and that one educational experience might extend
through them. More on this topic will be explored in chapters 9 and 10.
6
See also Rashi on bHag 3a, s.v. תלמידיך אנו
7
See bTa’an. 7a; bKid. 30a; bB. Qam. 17a, 82a; bAZ 19a-b; bTem. 16a; bHor. 12a
8
See pg. 66 and bSanh. 99a-b
5
168
without innovations). The role of the חידושis picked up throughout the Bavli, but
nowhere is it more unequivocally advocated than here. The implication bears
epistemological weight, signifying that the knowledge within Torah is understood to be
capacious and – within the wider constraints imposed by rabbinic thought9 – evolving. It
also informs our understanding of the relationship between teacher, student, and subject
matter, suggesting that knowledge does not exist only within a fixed canon, waiting to be
mined, but within the intellect of those who labour within that canon.
In this sugya, the Bavli might also be presenting an argument on the religious and
spiritual nature of learning via חידושים. As noted, discussions on חידושיםappear
throughout the Bavli. While elsewhere the rabbis display a marked degree of temperance
toward their use, here in masekhet Hagigah, R’ Yehoshua (and later, and R’ Eliezer) is
overly enthusiastic in his advocacy. Perhaps this singular example is not a coincidence.
Our ma’aseh focuses on two rabbis who come to visit their esteemed teacher.10 Rashi
9
What counts as valid exegesis in the Bavli is based upon a number of principles,
including (but not entirely limited to) the seven hermeneutical principles of Hillel, the
thirteen hermeneutical principles of Rabbi Yishmael, and the thirty-two exegetical
principles of Rabbi Eliezer ben Yosi HaGelili (also known as the Baraita on the Thirtytwo Rules). See: tSan 7:5 and Sifra 1:1-17, as well as bEruv. 2b; bPes. 3b; bSuk. 28a;
bBeitz. 4a; bNed. 36b-37a, 52a; bB. Bat. 134a; bB. Metz 38a; bSanh. 68b; bTam. 29a
Intriguingly, the principles associated with Rabbi Eliezer’s baraita open with a
parallel phrase from bHul. 89a already familiar to us: עשה אזניך כאפרכסת. These are the
only two instances of this phrase in the Bavli.
For more on these hermeneutical principles, see: Daniel Boyarin, Sparks of the
Logos: Essays in Rabbinic Hermeneutics, (Leiden: Brill Academic, 2003); Gerald Burns,
Hermeneutics: Ancient and Modern (New Haven: Yale University, 1992); and H. Strack
and Günter Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (trans. Markus
Bockmuehl; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996) 38-39, 205. Helpful overviews can also be
found in Adin Even-Israel Steinsaltz, Reference Guide to the Talmud (Rev. ed.; ed.
Joshua Schreier; New Milford: Koren, 2014), 211-232; Wilhelm Bacher and Jacob Zallel
Lauterbach, “Talmud Hermeneutics,” JE 12:30-33.
10
The root designating this visit ( )קבלappears repeatedly throughout the sugya, lending
coherence to the story (Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 94).
169
argues that this is not a happenstance visit, but one that takes place specifically on the
Yom Tov of a festival, as required in Rosh Hashanah 16b.11 This perek focuses on the
sacrificial offerings incumbent upon festival pilgrims. Suddenly, the seemingly
incongruent place of this sugya within the perek aligns more clearly: the two travelling
rabbis parallel the festival pilgrims of ancient Jerusalem. R’ Yehoshua’s demand for a
חידושis not merely a request for the students to teach him something he did or didn’t
already know, but a “sacrificial” demand; the rabbis-cum-pilgrims must bring an offering
to that which sustains them: their teacher. Indeed, the parallel between study and sacrifice
recurs throughout the Bavli, with the understanding that learning has replaced sacrifice as
the ritual which sustains the cosmos.12 Thus, the חידושof our sugya is more than a pearl
of wisdom, it is an offering of the greatest value. The parties mirror each other: R’
Yehoshua sustains his students with his metaphoric water, while the students sustain their
teacher with their חידוש.
Elsewhere, חידושיםare often held up against what might be otherwise determined
logically (the eternal סבראdebate rears its head again!). And while these innovative
interpretations are commonly accepted,13 there is a strong hesitancy on the part of the
rabbis about drawing general halakhic principles from them.14
11
Rashi on bHag. 3a s.v. להקביל פניו
See Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 31, as well as: bBer 17a; bEruv.
63b; bMeg. 3a-b; bSan. 49b; bMen 110a,
13
See bShab. 69b; bPes. 44b; bYev. 17b; bKet. 35b, 38a; bNed. 4a; bNaz. 37a-b; bKid.
21b; bB. Qam. 72b, 73a; bB. Metz. 61a; bSanh. 27a; bShev. 26b; bAZ 68b; bZev. 70a;
bBekh. 6b; bArakh. 32b; bTem. 23b
14
Questioning the ongoing role of חידושin halakhah is not a discussion limited to the
Bavli. See also a brief analysis and translation by Michael Broyde of a responsum by Rav
Moshe Feinstein which tackles the question, “When should a posek (a Jewish legal
decisor) rely on his own novel understanding of the halacha against the consensus”:
Michael J. Broyde, “The Role of Chiddush: The View of One Paragraph in Iggerot
12
170
Note also the inextricable connection between the subject matter and the learning
environment as proposed by R’ Yehoshua’s statement. The material itself sets the
contours of the milieu, such that the beit midrash, more than a physical description of a
building, becomes a metonym for the very specific kind of learning and people doing that
learning that take place within its walls.15
A few insightful details appear just before the students relay details on the חידושים
to their teacher. First, R’ Yehoshua’s follow-up question, “( ”שבת של מי היתהwhose
Shabbat was it?) links16 us thematically to the division of leadership in the beit midrash
between R’ Elazar ben Azarya and Rabban Gamliel after Rabban Gamliel was reinstated
following his unceremonious deposition, reported at bBer. 28a.17 We also catch a glimpse
of the form of instruction, learning of the – הגדה היוםa daily narrative/lecture.
The students now offer their teacher the חידוש, relaying to him the details of the
הגדה היום:
Moshe YD 1:101, and His Explanation for the Modesty of Zecharya ben Avkulas,” No
pages. [10 August 2008]. Online: http://hirhurim.blogspot.com/2008/08/role-ofchiddush.html.
15
Coupled with the earlier note on the “sacrificial” character of the חידוש, the beit
midrash becomes akin to the Jerusalem Temple itself.
16
Rubenstein argues that while the two texts as redacted present themselves as otherwise,
our Hagigah text actually predates the Berakhot text, and that here, the question “whose
Shabbat was it?” does not refer to the power-sharing agreement between R’ Elazar and
Rabban Gamliel, but is simply a straightforward question: “who was teaching on this
Shabbat?” For more on this, see Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 111 and
264, n61.
17
Though space precludes analyzing it in depth here, the account at Berakhot is worth
reading and considering against the background of our discussion, as it includes many
details on the nature of the beit midrash. It has also been examined in great detail
elsewhere, see: Moshe Simon-Shoshan, “Creators of Worlds: The Deposition of R.
Gamliel and the Invention of Yavneh,” AJSR 41:2 (November 2017), 287-313.;
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 77-90; Rubenstein, Culture of the
Babylonian Talmud, 138-142; David Goodblatt, “The Monarchic Principle: Studies in
Jewish Self-Government in Antiquity” (TSAJ: 38, 1994), 251-253.
171
יב( הקהל את העם האנשים והנשים והטף אם אנשים באים ללמוד נשים באות,)דברים לא
טף למה באין כדי ליתן שכר למביאיהן אמר להם מרגלית טובה היתה בידכם ובקשתם.לשמוע
אמר להם הקב"ה. יז( את ה' האמרת היום וה' האמירך היום, ועוד דרש )דברים כו.לאבדה ממני
לישראל אתם עשיתוני חטיבה אחת בעולם ואני אעשה אתכם חטיבה אחת בעולם אתם עשיתוני
ד( שמע ישראל ה' אלהינו ה' אחד ואני אעשה אתכם חטיבה,חטיבה אחת בעולם דכתיב )דברים ו
. כא( ומי כעמך ישראל גוי אחד בארץ, )דברי הימים א יז.אחת בעולם שנאמר
[They said to him that Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya interpreted the following
verse]: “Assemble the people, the men and the women and the little ones”
(Deut. 31:12). If men come to learn, [and] women, come to hear, why do the
little ones come? In order [for God to] give a reward to those who bring them
[Rabbi Yehoshua] said to them: [This] good pearl was in your hands, and you
tried to conceal it from me?!
[They said to him]: Additionally, [Rabbi Elazar] midrashically interpreted:
“You have affirmed, this day, the Eternal, and the Eternal has affirmed you,
this day.” (Deut. 26:17–18) [Rabbi Elazar explained:] The Holy Blessed One,
said to Israel: You have made Me a single entity in the world, and I will make
you a single entity in the world, you have made Me a single entity in the world,
as it is written: “Hear, O Israel, the Eternal our God, the Eternal is One.” (Deut.
6:4). And I will make you a single entity in the world, as it is stated: “And who
is like Your people, Israel, one nation in the land?” (1 Chr. 17:21).18
R’ Elazar ben Azarya’s first teaching is on the הקהל, the commandment at Deuteronomy
31:12 to assemble the entire community of Israel once every seven years (on Sukkot,19
during the sh’mitah year) to hear “( ”את־כל־דברי התורה הזאתall the words of this teaching).
He asks why young children are commanded to attend, given that they are not of
obligatory age and may not comprehend the teaching,20 and his חידושanswers that the
presence of children brings a reward to their parents. This hearkens back to our earlier
18
bHag. 3a-b
Again, another thematic connection to the Festival pilgrimage. See mSot 7:8 for the
Mishnah’s understanding of this commandment.
20
R’ Elazar ben Azarya also insinuates that women attend, even though they may not
understand the words of Torah, certainly a highly problematic assertion for most
contemporary, egalitarian students of Torah. He is operating within the same identityboundaries that we examined earlier, in chapter 3. Surprisingly, however, Tosafot on this
passage comment that precisely because of this teaching, a man is obligated to teach his
daughter Torah (Tosafot on bHag 3a, s.v .)נשים לשמוע.
19
172
examination of the individual identity of the student of Torah and how it is shaped by
factors such as sex and age,21 as well as to the rewards that are outlined for teaching a
child.22 Here, it also potentially points to an understanding of learning as an experiential
event, something that can happen by osmosis without directly encountering the subject
matter in a formal learning space. Rubenstein posits that this interpretation “exhibits a
loose thematic connection to the narrative context in the idea of being present at the place
of Torah. Just as there was reason for everyone to be present at Moses’s discourse, so too
was there good reason for the students to be at the house of study.”23
R’ Yehoshua, impressed by the חידוש, describes it as a “( ”מרגלית טובהa good
pearl),24 a metaphor akin to the English “pearl of wisdom.” Bolstered by their teacher’s
acceptance, they now offer a second teaching from R’ Eleazar (much less related to the
rest of the thematic focus), that is followed by a third drash which will comprise our
second thematic unit.
SECTION 2
דברי חכמים, דברי תורה: WORDS OF THE WISE, WORDS OF TORAH
The stam gemara presents a third drash by R’ Elazar ben Azarya, which
represents the first of two much larger discourses on the nature of Torah. Here,
expounding on a text from Kohelet, R’ Elazar submits that matters/words of Torah are
21
See pg. 41.
bShab. 127a
23
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 95.
24
See a similar use of this term at bB. Bat 123b, as well as the comparison of a ( צדיקa
righteous person) to a מרגליתat bMeg. 15a.
22
173
compared to three objects: ( דרבונותgoads), ( מסמרות נטועיםwell-fastened nails), and נטיעה
(a plant):
יא( דברי חכמים כדרבונות וכמסמרות נטועים בעלי אסופות נתנו,ואף הוא פתח ודרש )קהלת יב
מרועה אחד למה נמשלו דברי תורה לדרבן לומר לך מה דרבן זה מכוין את הפרה לתלמיה להוציא
חיים לעולם אף דברי תורה מכוונין את לומדיהן מדרכי מיתה לדרכי חיים אי מה דרבן זה מטלטל
אי מה מסמר זה חסר ולא יתר אף דברי תורה חסירין ולא.אף דברי תורה מטלטלין ת"ל מסמרות
.יתירין ת"ל נטועים מה נטיעה זו פרה ורבה אף דברי תורה פרין ורבין
And [Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya] also opened and taught: “The words of the
wise are like goads, and those that are composed in collections are like wellfastened nails are; they are from one shepherd.” (Qoh. 12:11) Why are matters
of Torah compared to a goad? To tell you [that] just as this goad directs the
cow to her furrow to bring forth [food for] life to the world, so too the words
of Torah direct those who study them from the paths of death to the paths of
life. If [this is] so, [you could also say]: Just as this goad is movable, so too
matters of Torah are movable. [Therefore], the verse states: “Nails.”
If [this is] so, [you could also say]: Just as this nail is diminished and does not
expand [over time], so too matters of Torah are diminished and do not
expand.[ Therefore], the verse states: “Well fastened (netuim).” Just as this
plant (neti’a) flourishes and multiplies, so too matters of Torah flourish and
multiply.25
The text from Kohelet (12:11) in fact compares ( דברי חכמיםwords of the wise),
however, as we saw in our previous chapter, “rabbinic hermeneutics typically understand
biblical references to wisdom and sages in terms of Torah and rabbis, hence the ‘words of
the wise’ becomes the Oral Torah of the rabbis.”26 This transmogrification of Kohelet’s
words draws attention to the significance of using this particular text as a didactic source
for this discussion. Among the most famous of verses from Kohelet is the insistence that
“( ”אין כל־חדש תחת השמשthere is nothing new under the sun).27 Here we have a sugya
insisting on the importance of חידושים, that draws upon a source from wisdom literature
25
bHag. 3b
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 96.
27
Qoh. 1:9
26
174
which seems to insist the exact opposite. We will see how these two ideas reconcile, but
for now, we can note Rashi’s commentary on this verse from Kohelet, where he, too,
draws pedagogical insight:
.שׁית
ִ שׁת יְֵמי ְבֵרא
ֶ שׁ
ֵ שִׁנְּבָרא ְב
ֶ ,שָּׁהיָה ְכָבר
ֶ א יְִרֶאה ֶאָלּא ָמהL ;שּׁהוּא ָלֵמד… ֵאין בּוֹ ִחדּוּשׁ
ֶ ְבָּכל־ַמה
ָמה ַהַדּד." ְבָכל־ֵעתT"ַדֶּדּיָה יְַרוּוּ,שֶׁנֱּאַמר
ֶ ְכִּעְניָן,שׁי ְטָעִמים
ֵ מוֵֹצא ָבהּ ָתִּמיד ִחדּוּ,ֲאָבל ַההוֹגֶה ַבתּוָֹרה
. אַף ִדְּבֵרי תוָֹרה ֵכּן,שֵׁמשׁ בּוֹ מוֵֹצא בוֹ ַטַעם
ְ שַׁהִתּינוֹק ְמַמ
ֶ ָכּל־זְַמן,ַהזֶּה
In whatever he learns… there is nothing new. He will see only what there
already was, which was created during the six days of creation. But one who
engages in the study of Torah constantly finds new insights therein, as the
matter is stated, “her breasts will satisfy you at all times.” (Prov. 5:19) Just as
this breast, whenever the infant feels it finds a taste in it, so are the words of
Torah...28
Keeping in mind Rashi’s teaching as we progress through our sugya, let us take up the
three objects that R’ Elazar has introduced: goads, well-fastened nails, and a plant.
In this well constructed drashah, richly full of similes, the Bavli progresses through
an interrogation on what Torah is like: is it pliant and adaptable to circumstances as they
change, or is it permanent? Is it a static canon, or does it grow over time? R’ Elazar first
advocates that Torah is like goads ()דרבונות, in that it prods you the right direction,29 but
the stam gemara counters: no, if that were the case, then you also have to accept that the
Torah is movable (i.e. impermanent). Thus, the reasons for the second simile. But this is
not without interrogation either. The stam gemara argues that while a nail is permanent,
over time it diminishes whatever it has been nailed, and does not expand. Therefore,
28
Rashi on Qoh. 12:11, s.v. מה שהיה הוא שיהיה וגו. The conclusion of Rashi’s commentary
here points readers to an example supposedly found in masekhet Hagigah, though this is
an error, as the incident he describes is actually found at bEruv. 54a-b. Regardless of this
error, it is enlightening that Rashi is aware of the interesting juxtaposition between these
two sources on the idea of חידושים. The idea being that when studying Torah, even the
things we consider to be new were implanted within the material from the beginning; it is
only our experience of them that that seems new.
29
See bYoma 72b; bAZ 19b and Rashi ad loc.
175
Torah cannot be likened to well-fastened nails ()מסמרות נטועים. Rather – in an ingenious
wordplay – the Torah is like a plant ()נטיעה, well rooted, but fertile. Now, the Bavli is able
to argue without debate that Torah is a substance which is “( ”פרה ורבהis fruitful and
multiplies). This metaphor is laden with meaning. Note the explicit connection to the first
commandment in the Torah ()פריה ורביה30 regarding biological fertility, as well as to the
agricultural themes already noted. The Bavli understands Torah as a learning material
which itself is alive, which sustains life, and which requires its students to maintain it
with the diligence and care that one would maintain any other living being.
The focus of our sugya on חידושיםalso takes on resonance here, as these
innovations all sprout forth from one verdant source. It is a unique proposition: an
infinitely multivalent tradition rooted firmly in a singular locus. Thus, the genius of these
metaphors that, in the words of Menachem Fisch, describe the Torah as “partly [goad]like, partly nail-like, and partly plant-like, but wholly resemble[ing] none of them.”31 The
pedagogical implication is encapsulated in the sugya’s following drashah on the phrase
בעלי אסופות:
בעלי אסופות אלו תלמידי חכמים שיושבין אסופות אסופות ועוסקין בתורה הללו מטמאין והללו
שמא יאמר אדם היאך אני.מטהרין הללו אוסרין והללו מתירין הללו פוסלין והללו מכשירין
למד תורה מעתה תלמוד לומר כולם נתנו מרועה אחד אל אחד נתנן פרנס אחד אמרן מפי אדון
אף אתה עשה. א( וידבר אלהים את כל הדברים האלה,כל המעשים ברוך הוא דכתיב )שמות כ
אזניך כאפרכסת וקנה לך לב מבין לשמוע את דברי מטמאים ואת דברי מטהרים את דברי אוסרין
'ואת דברי מתירין את דברי פוסלין ואת דברי מכשירין בלשון הזה אמר להם אין דור יתום שר
.אלעזר בן עזריה שרוי בתוכו
30
Gen. 1:28. Torah study and the commandment to be fruitful and multiply are also
closely linked in parallel passages at bEruv. 27a and bKid. 34a in lists of מצות עשה שהזמן
גרמא- positive, time-bound commandments; and at bShab. 31a, in the famous teaching by
Rava on the six questions one is asked upon reaching the afterlife. It is interesting that
these are also two acts which the Bavli uses the verb “( ”עסקto occupy oneself) to
describe fulfilling (see bBer. 10a; bShab. 31a; bYev 63b).
31
Menachem Fisch, Rational Rabbis: Science and Talmudic Culture, (Bloomington:
Indiana University, 1997), 90.
176
“Those that are composed in collections”: These are Torah scholars who sit
in many groups and engage in Torah [study]. These [scholars] render [an
object or person] ritually impure and these [others] render it pure; these
[scholars] prohibit [something] and these [others] permit it; these deem
[something] invalid and [others] these deem it valid.
Lest a person say: Now, how can I study Torah [when it contains so many
different opinions]? The verse states they are all “given from one shepherd.”
One God gave them; one leader, said them from the mouth of the Blessed
Master of all creation, as it is written: “And God spoke all these words.”
So too you, make your ears like a funnel and acquire for yourself an
understanding heart to hear both the statements of those who render
[objects] ritually impure and the statements of those who render them pure;
the statements of those who prohibit [actions] and the statements of
those who permit them; the statements of those who deem [items] invalid
and the statements of those who deem them valid. [When Rabbi Yehoshua
heard this hiddush, he] said to them in these words: No generation [is]
orphaned, (i.e. without a leader), if Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya dwells among
it.32
NJPS translates בעלי אסופותas “prodding sticks,” though notes that the exact
meaning of the Hebrew is uncertain.33 Perhaps riffing on this uncertainty, the Bavli
engages in more clever wordplay, explicitly comparing בעלי אסופותto תלמידי חכמים, and
thus implicitly connecting the בעליto the “masters” we encountered earlier: 34בעלי אסופות
תלמוד, בעלי משנה, בעלי מקרא.35 These תלמידי חכמים, now “masters” of collecting, must study
by gathering up all of the fruitful and multiplying teachings of Torah, all of the חידושים
that emerge from study. While R’ Yehoshua clearly values חידושים, the gemara now
raises a question lurking in the background: if there is an infinite number of innovative
32
bHag. 3b
JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, (Philadelphia: JPS, 2003), 1784, s.v. o-o.
34
Rabbi Aaron Panken has proposed to me that there is a richly meaningful ambiguity
here: these could also be related to “masters of collections,” i.e., authors who bring
together the collections of prior material (like, e.g., Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi or others).
Thus, this could imply being a sort of editor of wisdom sayings or halakhot. It could also
refer to those who preside over assemblies of students, i.e., teachers.
35
See pg. 86-89.
33
177
yet contradictory interpretations which can emerge from the Torah, how is one to study
Torah at all!? This is not merely a question of practical learning. Rabbi Daniel Lehman
describes the weightiness of the matter:
The hypothetical question in this Talmudic passage is rooted in a deep religious
need for certainty and clarity. The assumption often made is that Torah, as
guide for living in response to God’s will, should give us a definitive direction,
lead us down a proven path so that we walk in God’s way. The tradition’s
indeterminate debates, the many contradictory claims made by our sages, make
it difficult, if not impossible, to discern a clear way forward. The religious
purpose of our rabbinic discourse seems to be undermined by the radical
rejection of consensus and the celebration of diverse, even dissonant ideas.36
Indeed, Rubenstein dubs this moment in the sugya a “practical, exegetical, and
ideological crisis of confidence.”37 The Bavli’s solution is to accentuate the argument that
Rashi drew discussing Kohelet 12:11: the diversity of meaning and law found within
Torah is encoded within the text itself, a divine master program (potentially) mitigating
this concern. The pragmatic approach, then, is to do as the Bavli advises: attune one’s
ears and heart to understand these diametrically opposing statements, and thus come to
learn the widest scope of Torah possible.
It seems to me that while this understanding may address the exegetical and
ideological crisis, depending on the breadth of one’s studies, it may not be a particularly
practical solution, as it places an enormous demand upon teachers and students. But here
we encounter another uniquely Jewish idea of education within the Bavli: the subject
matter itself, by its very nature, carries particular weight and demands certain orientations
toward its study. Openness to חידושיםdoes not imply a free-for-all where any casual
36
Daniel Lehman, “Perspective on Jewish Education: Educating Toward Inconclusive
Multiplicity,” Jewish Educational Leadership Journal 13:1, (Winter, 2014).
37
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 96.
178
interpretation is immediately accepted, nor does it absolve students from working to
achieve a serious depth in learning, since each and every (appropriate) interpretation must
be considered. What חידושיםactually demand is humility. Creativity and innovation are
encouraged, but one should not forget that the ultimate source of the knowledge, as
understood by the Bavli, emerges from the material itself and its divine author. We noted
the importance for the Bavli of humility in learning, and see now just how relevant it is
considering the nature of the subject: the goal of learning, as demanded by the text itself,
is not only practical, nor is it a matter for personal enrichment or public praise. While we
have seen the degree to which teachers are meant to be honoured, significant sugyas
firmly discourage arrogance and egotism.38
The Bavli is intimately aware of the impact of this tension between innovation
(requiring one to think oneself capable of gleaning new wisdom from the Torah) and
humility (requiring one to acknowledge that they are not the actual source of that
wisdom). Thus, the Bavli pointedly teaches that a Torah scholar must carry within them
two competing beliefs: “( ”בשמתא דאית ביה ובשמתא דלית ביהone who has [arrogance] should
be excommunicated, and one who does not have [any arrogance at all] should be
excommunicated.39
The closing of this section of our sugya demonstrates the care and attention with
which it was crafted. The metaphor of the ear as an ( אפרכסתa grain harvesting
hopper/funnel) is a bookend to the agricultural theme of earlier, as well as a thematic
connection to other gemaras which associate learning with harvesting and the subject
38
bEruv. 53b, bSuk. 49b; bTa’an. 7a, 20b; bNed. 62a; bB. bSot.47b; Metz. 23b; bSanh.
88b
39
bSot. 5a; bTem. 16a
179
matter with agricultural produce.40 And R’ Yehoshua’s final statement in support of this
paradigm of Torah, praising R’ Elazar ben Azarya, also echoes the theme of teacher as
parent seen earlier. It is a poetic and poignant end to a rather weighty discussion –
perhaps among the heftiest – that asks about the very nature of Jewish revelation and
what is ultimately knowable. This section prompts us to consider: is Torah an open,
expansive canon, or a single, stable tradition? The answer weaves together the perceived
connection between the subject matter, and the role of student and teacher, with
Rubenstein noting that “given this fertile, pluralistic and multivalent Torah, the challenge
for the student is to master the confliction positions and to understand the foundations of
all of them, rather than to adjudicate between them in a quest for the absolute Truth.”41 In
this way, this sugya directly responds to Schwab’s question on the purpose of subject
matter, and whether it is meant to provide fodder for the search for truth, or for the
construction of meaning.42 Indeed, this is the very question that the sugya as a whole
grapples with, as we see an entirely different example of what might be reported back to
one’s teacher, and what that says about the nature of Torah and what it demands.
SECTION 3
כך מקובלני: THIS IS WHAT I RECEIVED
The third and final section of our sugya offers less immediate content on the nature
of Torah, but provides relevant insight when juxtaposed against the section we just
analyzed. It opens by questioning why R’ Yohanan ben Beroka and R’ Elazar ben Hisma
40
bEruv. 54a-b; bTa’an. 7a; bSanh. 99a-100a, 107a and Rashi ad loc.
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 96.
42
Schwab, “The Practical: A Language for Curriculum,” 21.
41
180
didn’t immediately offer R’ Yehoshua the חידושיםthat they had learned, and provides an
answer through a flashback of sorts, conveying the ( מעשה בר' יוסי בן דורמסקיתthe incident
of R’ Yosi ben Durmaskit):
ולימרו ליה בהדיא משום מעשה שהיה דתניא מעשה בר' יוסי בן דורמסקית שהלך להקביל פני
א"ל נמנו וגמרו עמון ומואב מעשרין מעשר.ר' אלעזר בלוד אמר לו מה חידוש היה בבהמ"ד היום
. עני בשביעית
( יד,אמר לו יוסי פשוט ידיך וקבל עיניך פשט ידיו וקבל עיניו בכה ר' אלעזר ואמר )תהלים כה
אמר לו לך אמור להם אל תחושו למניינכם כך מקובלני מרבן.סוד ה' ליראיו ובריתו להודיעם
יוחנן בן זכאי ששמע מרבו ורבו מרבו הלכתא למשה מסיני עמון ומואב מעשרין מעשר עני
.בשביעית מה טעם הרבה כרכים כבשו עולי מצרים ולא כבשום עולי בבל
מפני שקדושה ראשונה קדשה לשעתה ולא קדשה לעתיד לבא והניחום כדי שיסמכו עליהן עניים
. תנא לאחר שנתיישבה דעתו אמר יהי רצון שיחזרו עיני יוסי למקומן וחזרו.בשביעית
But [Rabbi Yohanan ben Beroka and Rabbi Elazar ben Hisma] should have
told [Rabbi Yehoshua this hiddush] directly. [Why did they hesitate at first?]
Due to an incident that occurred. As it is taught: an incident involving Rabbi
Yosi ben Durmaskit, who went to greet Rabbi Eliezer in Lod. [Rabbi
Elazar] said to him: What hiddush was [taught] today in the study hall?
[Rabbi Yossi ben Durmaskit] said to him: [The Sages assembled], counted,
and concluded [that regarding] Ammon and Moab, one separates the poor
person’s tithe in the Sabbatical Year.
[Rabbi Elazar] said to him [angrily]: Yosi, extend your hands and catch your
eyes. He extended his hands and caught his eyes. Rabbi Elazar wept and
said: “The counsel of the Eternal is with those who fear God; and God’s
covenant, to make them know it.” (Ps. 25:14)
[Rabbi Elazar] said to [Rabbi Yossi]: go say to [the Sages in the study hall]: Do
not be concerned [with regard] to your counting! This is [what] I received from
Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai, who heard from his teacher, and his teacher from
his teacher: It is a halakhah [transmitted] to Moses from Sinai [that] Ammon
and Moab one separates the poor person’s tithe in the sabbatical year. What is
the reason? Those who ascended from Egypt conquered many cities, and those
who ascended from Babylonia did not conquer them. (This difference is
important), because the first consecration [of Eretz Yisrael caused] it [to
be] sanctified [only] for its time, and not sanctified forever. And [those who
came from Babylonia] left those [cities and did not consider them part of Eretz
Yisrael. But they would harvest in these places in the sabbatical year], so that
the poor could rely upon [that harvest] in the sabbatical year.
181
[It was] taught: after [Rabbi Elazar’s] mind was put at ease, he said: May it
be [God’s] will that Rabbi Yosi’s eyes should return to their place. And [his
eyes] returned.43
The incident44 that follows begins in a similar manner to the previous, with an itinerant
rabbi going to visit his teacher, who then asks what חידושwas taught in the beit midrash.
But following this, it bears little resemblance to the account that opened our second
section. Instead of rich, poetic drashot with significant communal upshots or reflections
on the nature of God and Torah, R’ Yossi offers his teacher a mundane halakhic matter
with little human-to-human impact. R’ Elazar is furious, and orders that R’ Yossi return
to the beit midrash and demand the rabbis there to stop teaching, for this matter wasn’t a
חידושat all, but a well-established law.45 This provides the background to the incident
from the very beginning of our sugya involving R’ Yohanan ben Beroka and R’ Elazar
ben Hisma, and why they initially demurred from sharing חידושיםwith R’ Yehoshua, out
of fear of a similar reprisal.
The presentation of how R’ Elazar states that he already knew this halakhah is
significant in its interpretation of the nature of Torah: he establishes that it was received
via a – שלשלת הקבלהa chain of tradition – stretching back through generations of
teachers, all the way back – למשה מסיניto Moses from Sinai. In other words, this teaching
was the farthest possible thing from a חידוש. While the Torah in the first drashot is the
43
bHag. 3b
Rubenstein notes that the formula “( ”משום מעשה שהיהbecause of an incident that
occurred) is a distinctly Babylonian term (See bHag. 22b; bYoma 28a), and reflects the
strong editorial hand of the Bavli on this sugya. (Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian
Talmud, 260, n24).
45
R’ Elezar also demands that R’ Yossi remove his eyes in penance for his error. See
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 97-98 for theories on the figurative and
literal meaning of this bizarre request.
44
182
source of “multiple contradictory and novel interpretations,”46 the Torah here is rigid and
singular, un-interpreted through all the generations back to its revelation. Unlike our first
example, there is no growth or fruitfulness in wisdom here, no innovation, and no vision
of the expansiveness of Torah.
The fantastical image of R’ Yossi’s eyes popping out of his head is laden with
metaphoric meaning: חידושיםare important, but without a grounding in tradition to guide
innovation, we quickly lose sight (!) of what is important. On the one hand, a beit
midrash isn’t worthy of the name without innovation. But on the other hand, the world
cannot be just an assemblage of novelties, particularly those that masquerade as being
innovative, when they merely regurgitate already held knowledge. This imagery
advocates a more balanced, centrist approach and is a corrective to too much flexibility.47
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
The actual halakhic matter at hand (a question of border demarcations and their
impact on taxes) seems to matter less to the Bavli than the comparative point it is trying
to make. The sugya asks us: what is the nature of Torah? Is it multivalent, allencompassing, and open to חידושים, or is it static through the ages? In juxtaposing these
two views of Torah and the demands placed upon us as learners and teacher, it leans
strongly toward the former: a prosperous view of Torah as flourishing and growing that
shares much more in common with other presentations on the nature of Torah throughout
the Bavli. But the graphic story of R’ Yossi’s eyes falling out reminds us that innovation
46
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 97.
My thanks to Rabbi Aaron Panken for pointing out an interpretation of this stunning
imagery.
47
183
is always in tension with tradition, and that this tension is part and parcel of Jewish
education.
Rubenstein views this sugya primarily as a vivid case study on the “dangers of
insulting or shaming one’s master, and the importance of taking every possible
precaution to honor a teacher.”48 This certainly reflects the paramount importance of this
ideology, as we have already seen. However, the fact that this argument is framed
through a discussion on the nature of Torah and what it demands should not be
minimized. It seems to me that the question of honour and respect operates less explicitly,
in the background, and that the student-teacher relationship is used as a vehicle to discuss
the nature of their shared focus: Torah.
Yes, as Rubenstein notes, a teacher and student cannot learn together without
respect and honour, but the Bavli here also makes explicit a series of views on the nature
of Torah, and the idea that a beit midrash cannot exist without חידושים. Indeed, the focus
on חידושיםthroughout relates to the main thematic focus of this sugya: an understanding
of Torah not only as a body of permanent relevance that one is meant to be fluent in, but
as something that is meant to influence one’s life, that demands an active presence in an
ongoing project of interpretation and reinterpretation. This is, perhaps, an answer to the
question posed at the beginning of this chapter: Why does the Bavli advocate learning
this thing (i.e. Torah) over anything else? Because Torah gives us life (a theme saturating
this sugya), and enables us to grow, but it also requires us for it to grow.
Of course, these interpretations are not mutually exclusive. This sugya’s
composition is a fine example of the seriousness with which the Bavli takes learning as
48
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 98.
184
an enterprise demanding consideration of teacher, student, material, and milieu together
(indeed, all four of Schwab’s commonplaces are determinative factors here). It captures
the expansiveness of the questions considering subject matter posed in chapter 1: What is
learned between teacher and student? What is meant by “Torah”? Does the nature of the
subject matter impact the mode of study? What kind of material is out of bounds (or less
appropriate)?
185
CHAPTER 9
“תורה
”בכל מקום מותר להרהר בדברי
“ONE CAN MEDITATE ON TORAH EVERYWHERE:”1
THE LEARNING MILIEU
1
bBer. 24b
186
In the mind of the Bavli, the classical sites of institutional Jewish learning –the
beit midrash and the yeshiva – are mysterious, energetic, fantastical places. In addition to
the quotidian study that takes place there, the Bavli bestows upon them highly
imaginative qualities: demons are said to inhabit them.2 Sometimes one is built upon a
grave.3 One might make you physically ill,4 but also have magical healing powers.5 They
can defeat the yetzer hara.6 Time travel takes place there.7 For all this creativity, writ
large, it is challenging to speak to the significance of these characterizations. Have the
rabbis simply transposed folk tales, superstitions, and legends onto their primary site of
focus? Or do they reveal deeper pedagogical insight into how the Bavli understands the
relevance of sites of learning?
Compared to the other commonplaces we have examined, the Bavli’s attention to
the learning milieu is not as discriminating. We find portraits (sometimes richly painted)
of the places where learning takes place, but it seems that there are fewer broad
indications of what makes a learning environment appropriate. Rubenstein observes that
there is a great deal of learning going on, but:
comparatively little description of the setting in which discussions took
place. Various forums are mentioned - private house, bet midrash, be
midrasha, bet vaad, yeshiva, be rav, aliya (upper story), but few details are
preserved about their structure. How large were these frameworks? How
many sages and students gathered together?8
We catch glimpses of what these sites look like, as well as instances where the Bavli
2
bBer. 6a; bKid. 29b
bB. Qam. 16b-17a
4
bB. Metz. 84b
5
bEruv. 26a
6
bSuk. 52b; bKid. 30b
7
bMen. 29b
8
Rubenstein, Culture of the Babylonian Talmud, 16.
3
187
pushes boundaries and describes non-institutional learning environments. But for the
most part, there is far less of a sustained engagement with delineating the ideal
characteristics of a learning space. We are left wondering: for the Bavli, is the milieu an
arbitrary place, where learning just happens to take place? Or is there a concerted sense
of what is needed for fruitful learning?
The goal in this chapter and the next is not to historically reconstruct the beit
midrash, yeshiva, or other learning spaces. Comprehensive historical and philological
research into the nature and historicity of these institutions, and the meaning of the terms
which refer to them has been conducted, primarily by Goodblatt, in his monumental
Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian Babylonia, and additional insight can be found in
Rubenstein’s The Culture of the Babylonian Talmud. Rather, inspired by Schwab’s
suggestion that the milieu itself “needs to be taken into account as a coequal factor,”9 that
constitutes part of a pedagogy – no less than the student, teacher, and subject matter – the
goal is to sketch out a broad look at where the Bavli describes productive learning taking
place, and where it cautions against environments detrimental to learning.
This representative examination can be divided into the following four categories:
1. What is the beit midrash like? Selected snapshots of the depictions of this space.
2. Where else can study take place?
3. Where shouldn’t one learn?
4. The distinction between Babylonia and Eretz Yisrael
9
Burton I. Cohen, “An Application of Schwab's Educational Commonplaces: Examining
One Aspect of the Milieu Commonplace as Reflected in a Synagogue in a Florida
Retirement Community,” Shofar, 11:3, Spring 1993), 75.
188
WHAT IS THE BEIT MIDRASH LIKE?
Who enters into the beit midrash? Should it be akin to an elite academy, granting
admittance only to the most successful students and teachers who excel in their studies?
Should it charge a tuition or admittance fee? Or should it be a public institution, open to
all to further their studies? Such is a debate within the Bavli itself.10 In two instances –
after R’ Hillel abolished an entrance fee,11 and following Rabban Gamliel’s deposition as
head of the beit midrash12 – there is a noticeable democratization. In the latter case,
stringent admission requirements were lessened, and the Bavli records a significant
uptick in those who entered the beit midrash, to the extent that extra room had to be
made.
This debate perhaps relates to the sense of gravity associated with a site of great
learning. In Megillah, we encounter a debate as to whether a synagogue or a beit midrash
is of a higher status. The Bavli concludes that it is the beit midrash, emphasizing the
sanctity of the place and describing it as “( ”בית גדולa great house).13 Just a few dapim
later, the Bavli calls the same space “( ”מקדש מעטa little sanctuary).14 Rather than
contradict each other, both of these terms relate to the ancient Temple in Jerusalem, and
point to the belief that in the absence of a sacrificial system of worship, the house of
study has taken its place. In this merism of sorts, describing the beit midrash as both a
“great” and “little” captures the immensity of its role in rabbinic life. It is both larger than
life, but also a site of personal learning.
10
bBer. 28a; bYoma 35b
bYoma 35b
12
bBer. 28a
13
bMeg. 27a
14
bMeg. 29a
11
189
With such an orientation, it is not surprising that, as we have seen previously, the
Bavli depicts rabbis as being deeply committed to an intensity of study and a fear of
forgetting. The notion of ( בטול בית המדרשdisrupting the beit midrash)15 was taken quite
seriously, and we find various instances of the measures taken to prevent interruption of
study,16 including the concept of ( פוק תני לבראgo and teach it outside) introduced
earlier,17 a reference to material which was deemed irrelevant to the present study.18
A final note on the character of the beit midrash: related to its status as a
substitute site of worship, the Bavli records examples of prayers that were said by
students when they left, including the following:
כי הוו מפטרי רבנן מבי ר' אמי ואמרי לה מבי ר' חנינא אמרי ליה הכי עולמך תראה בחייך
ואחריתך לחיי העולם הבא ותקותך לדור דורים לבך יהגה תבונה פיך ידבר חכמות ולשונך ירחיש
רננות עפעפיך יישירו נגדך עיניך יאירו במאור תורה ופניך יזהירו כזוהר הרקיע שפתותיך יביעו
.דעת וכליותיך תעלוזנה מישרים ופעמיך ירוצו לשמוע דברי עתיק יומין
When the Sages took leave of the study hall of Rabbi Ami, and some say [it
was] the study hall of Rabbi Hanina, they would say to him the following:
May you see your world in your lifetime, and may your end be to life in the
World-to-Come, and may your hope [exist] for many generations. May your
heart meditate on understanding, your mouth speak wisdom, and your tongue
be moved to praises. May your eyelids look directly before you, your eyes
shine in the light of Torah, and your face radiate like the brightness of the
sky. May your lips speak knowledge, your kidneys rejoice in the upright, and
your feet run to hear the words of the Ancient of Days (God).19
We see here an evocation of many of the themes we have already explored which are
central to the Bavli’s idea of education: the transcendent relationship of teaching and
15
bBer. 53a; bShab. 126b, 127a; bBeitz. 29a, 35b, 36a; bSanh. 62a
bNaz. 49b-50a; bKid. 52b; bB. Bat. 23b
17
See pg. 160.
18
bShab. 106a; bEruv. 9a; bYoma 43b; bBeitz. 12b; bYev. 77b; bB. Qam. 34b; bSanh.
62a, b
19
bBer. 17a
16
190
learning to the afterlife, a focus on longevity and the intergenerational impact of learning,
the oral aspects of teaching and learning, and the motif of illuminating others with
wisdom. Note in particular the depiction of wisdom and praises in the plural ( חכמותand
)רננות. Having already seen the capaciousness of the Bavli’s take on wisdom, there seems
to be an acknowledgement displayed here of the breadth of learning held by those in
positions of leadership.
Absent a comprehensive depiction of the nature of the beit midrash, we can still
assemble some salient ideas that represent what the Bavli understands as important to a
preeminent site of learning: it has some characteristics of an elite institution, though it is
open to learners of all levels; it has significant spiritual symbolism as a site where
students enact their covenantal relationship with God, via study as a substitute for
sacrifice; and it is a site of intensity of study and dedication, susceptible to distraction,
with great emphasis placed on maintaining focus.
WHERE ELSE CAN LEARNING TAKE PLACE?
Comparatively speaking, the Bavli not only spends more time outlining other
learning environments, but also goes into greater detail on the significance of those sites.
We can get a sense of the vastness of places that have didactic value, beginning with the
belief that while certain formal places of study exist, Torah can be studied everywhere.20
This is not an exaggerated statement; the Bavli describes learning taking place in such
diverse locations as: among the natural world and animals, as a hypothetical substitute
20
bBer. 24b.
191
had the Torah not been given;21 in a bathhouse or bathroom;22sitting in the street;23 at
home in the morning before attending beit midrash;24 accompanying a teacher on their
journey;25 next to a flowing river;26 on a pile of garbage;27 and in a cave, naked, under a
pile of sand.28 By no means is this either an exhaustive list or a suggestion that all places
are fair game for learning. To be sure, many of these sites prompt debates as to how
appropriate or permissible they are. However, we get a distinct sense that learning is not
something always confined to physical educational institutions.
Indeed, not only is learning not thus confined to physical locations, the Bavli has
a sense of the temporal expansiveness of education as well, suggesting that learning
might take place as early as in the womb,29 as late as at the very moment of death, 30 and,
as we have seen, reaching far into Olam HaBa. Are these exaggerated visions of an
appropriate milieu, or do they represent an understanding for the Bavli that just as any
place might be fitting for study, so too any time?
WHERE SHOULDN’T ONE LEARN?
The caveat, might, is important. Not all places are fit for learning. The Bavli
displays a particular aversion to studying in places of filth, foul odour, and spiritual
21
bEruv. 100b
bBer. 24b,62a; bShab. 40b, 150a, bHag. 5b; bKid. 30a, 33a; bZev. 102b
23
bPes. 26a
24
bKid. 30a
25
bHag. 15a-b
26
bHor. 12a
27
bHor. 12a
28
bShab. 33b
29
bSanh. 91b-92a; bNid. 30b
30
bShab. 83b; bMo’ed Qat. 28a
22
192
impurity;31 and in busy places, where one is liable to get distracted.32 For similar reasons,
the Bavli is ambivalent about studying while travelling, due in part to the heightened fear
of danger while travelling between cities, but also because of the increased possibility of
distraction and lack of time to properly dedicate to study.33 But it is precisely because of
this fear of danger, that in some instances, the Bavli advocates studying while travelling,
due to the perceived protective powers. Ultimately, this is an unresolved debate. The
Bavli also brings a moral orientation to determining where one shouldn’t study, arguing
that one should not learn in the presence of an עם הארץ, so as not to shame or demean
them, due to one’s own superior intellect.34 Where we might expect this prohibition to be
due to some of the reasons explored in Chapter 4, here, the Bavli suppresses its antipathy
towards those who are less punctilious in their study and displays a modicum of
emotional concern.
THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN BABYLONIA AND ERETZ YISRAEL
Lastly, the Bavli reflects its own historical context, frequently noting the difference
in academic culture between Eretz Yisrael and Babylonia.35 A particularly harsh example
of this can be seen in this gemara from Sanhedrin:
ו( במחשכים הושיבני,מאי בבל א"ר יוחנן בלולה במקרא בלולה במשנה בלולה בתלמוד )איכה ג
:כמתי עולם אמר ר' ירמיה זה תלמודה של בבל
What [is the meaning of the word] Babylonia? Rabbi Yohanan says: [It
means] mixed with Bible, mixed with Mishnah, and mixed with talmud. (Other
31
bBer. 24b, 25a; bSuk. 28a; bTa’an. 20b; bMeg. 28a; bHor. 13b
bPes. 112a; bMo’ed Qat. 16a-b; bNid 16a
33
bEruv. 53b-54a, 55a; bTa’an. 10b; bSot. 46b, 49a
34
bPes. 112a
35
bShab. 145b; bPes. 34b; bYoma 57a; bMeg. 28b, 29a; bMo’ed Qat. 25a;
bB. Qam 117a-b; bB. Metz. 33a-b, 85a; bSanh. 24a; bMen. 52a
32
193
Sages had a different opinion, and suggested that Babylonia is better described
as): “He has made me dwell in dark places, as those that have been long
dead” (Lam. 3:6), Rabbi Yirmeya says: This is the talmud of Babylonia.36
R’ Yohanan (a second generation Amora of Eretz Yisrael) is much more deferential to his
Babylonian colleagues, praising their grasp of important subject matter. R’ Yirmeya (a
third generation Amora of Eretz Yisrael), on the other hand, brings a particularly grim
view of the kind of talmud (i.e. learning, not the text) that takes place in Babylonia.37 The
use of the passage from Lamentations reflects common associations between light and
learning (which we will also see in the next chapter), and the association with death is
particularly poignant, given the life-sustaining properties of learning. R’ Yirmeya’s
polemic against Babylonia essentially suggests that their style of studying has none of its
transcendent qualities, unable to sustain intellectual or spiritual life.
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
Perhaps one of the most conclusive things that might be said about the Bavli’s
understanding of where education should take place is that learning takes place in
environments where it has the potential to be successful. While our other commonplaces
have revealed deeper philosophical, pedagogical, epistemological, and ontological
understandings of education, the Bavli is less proactive when it comes to learning spaces.
There are fewer prescriptions advising how to assemble a site of learning, but many
descriptions of environments where fruitful learning happens to take place. Ultimately,
36
bSanh. 24a
For more on the distinction between the two communities, see Rubenstein, Culture of
the Babylonian Talmud, 16-38, and Goodblatt, Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian
Babylonia, 263-272.
37
194
what seems to be most important is that a learning milieu should have the presence of a
community of teachers and learners and be distraction free. This is largely in keeping
with other repeated tropes we have encountered thus far.
In our case study in the next chapter, we will see how the Bavli takes up some of
these themes, and differentiates between a place conducive to learning, and one
detrimental to the endeavour.
CHAPTER 10
“תורה
”גולה למקום
“EXILE YOURSELF TO A PLACE OF TORAH:1”
A CASE STUDY ON THE LEARNING MILIEU
(SHABBAT 147b)
1
bShab. 147b
196
Our examination into what the Bavli says about students, teachers, and subject
matter has revealed a remarkable degree of attention to the distinctive identities of each
of these commonplaces. Key questions we have grappled with so far have interrogated
who is and who is a not a student and teacher, what is Torah like, as well as where
boundaries are drawn around each of these identities, and how permeable they are. While
we are now moving clearly into the realm of the inanimate (contrast with the Bavli’s
understanding of Torah as a living, flourishing substance), we can still ask similar
questions of the spaces where learning takes place: What is the character of the milieu?
Can Jewish learning take place anywhere, or are there sharply defined boundaries (both
literal and figurative)? Is the learning environment a distinct space dedicated to
knowledge acquisition, or a space for experimentation?2 What degree of structure and
control are required in establishing a learning environment?3 We will see how these
questions are deftly addressed in a small, but engaging and richly woven aggadah about
R’ Elazar ben Arakh from the twenty-second perek of masekhet Shabbat (143b-148a).
This chapter broadly concerns the rules of preparing food on Shabbat, but also
touches on what is permitted and prohibited when it comes to washing and anointing
oneself. In the midst of questioning whether it is permissible on Shabbat to attend a
public bath (here called a deyomsit) at a hot-spring in the Anatolian region of Perugaita
(Phrygia), the Bavli makes a sharp digression, using the reference to the Perugaita as a
springboard for our aggadah. Because the story is so brief, I will present it here in full,
then outline its contents, and move into discussing its relevance.
2
3
Joseph Schwab, “Testing and the Curriculum,” 148.
Joseph Schwab, “Testing and the Curriculum,” 148.
197
. אמר רבי חלבו חמרא דפרוגייתא ומיא דדיומסת קיפחו עשרת השבטים מישראל
רבי אלעזר בן ערך איקלע להתם אימשיך בתרייהו איעקר תלמודיה כי הדר אתא קם למיקרי
ב( החדש הזה לכם אמר החרש היה לבם בעו רבנן רחמי עליה,בספרא בעא למיקרא )שמות יב
.והדר תלמודיה
והיינו דתנן ר' נהוראי אומר הוי גולה למקום תורה ואל תאמר שהיא תבא אחריך שחבריך יקיימוה
.בידך ואל בינתך אל תשען
'תנא לא ר' נהוראי שמו אלא ר' נחמיה שמו ואמרי לה ר' אלעזר בן ערך שמו ולמה נקרא שמו ר
:נהוראי שמנהיר עיני חכמים בהלכה
Rabbi Helbo said: The wine of Perugaita and the water of the deyomsit
deprived Israel [of the] ten [lost] tribes.
Rabbi Elazar ben Arakh happened [to come] there (to Perugaita), he was drawn
to them, [and] his learning was uprooted. When he returned, he stood to read
from a (Torah) scroll [and] was supposed to read the verse: “This month shall
be for you (hahodesh hazeh lakhem)” (Ex. 12:2), [but instead he read]: Have
their hearts become deaf [haheresh haya libbam]. The Sages asked for [God to
have] mercy on him, and his learning was restored.
And that is [why] we learned Rabbi Nehorai says: “Exile yourself to a place of
Torah and do not say that it will follow you, as [if] your colleagues will
establish it in your hands, and ‘do not rely on your understanding [alone].’”
(mAvot 4:14, quoting Prov. 3:5)
It was taught: Rabbi Nehorai was not his name, rather Rabbi Nehemia was his
name; and some say Rabbi Elazar ben Arakh was his name. And why was he
called Rabbi Nehorai? Because he would illuminate [manhir] the eyes of the
Sages in halakha.4
This aggadah is deceptively lush, despite its brevity. There is a substantial
backstory to R’ Elazar ben Arakh’s character, which is played out in parallel texts
throughout rabbinic literature,5 and will be examined shortly, though we already get a
4
bShab. 147b
Excellent reconstructions of R’ Elazar’s full narrative can be found in Alon GoshenGottstein, The Sinner and the Amnesiac, 233-265; in Nachman Levine, “R. Elazar B.
Arach: The ‘Overflowing Spring,’ the Emmaus Hot Spring, and Intertextual Irony,” in
JSJ 33:3, 2002), 278-289; and in Itay Marienberg-Milikowsky, Exile Yourself to a Place
of Torah? Independence, Marginality, and the Study of Torah in Rabbinic Depictions of
5
198
dramatic sense of the importance of this rabbi and his story. I have outlined the text into
four units, which align theme and structure quite naturally:
1. A prequel about the significance of the region of Perugaita
2. The body of the aggadah as R’ Elazar travels to Perugaita and loses his
knowledge
3. The moral of the story, quoting from Mishnah Avot
4. A coda on the identity of R’ Elazar
SECTION 1
קיפחו עשרת השבטים מישראל: DEPRIVING ISRAEL OF THE TEN TRIBES
This one-line prequel of sorts sets the stage for the significance of what follows.
Historically, Perugaita had a large population of Jews, Jewish Christians, and Christians,
and Paul of Tarshish was said to have visited there.6 William M. Ramsay notes that this
was a heavily assimilated Jewish community, and that the Jewish residents had lost their
connection to the Land of Israel, to Hebrew, and to Jewish education (compared to their
Alexandrian brethren). As a result, “they were much more readily converted to
Christianity.”7 R’ Helbo’s attack that the waters of the bathhouse there instigated the
disappearance of the ten (lost) tribes may reflect a historical awareness of the assimilation
and apostasy of Jews there, or may be a poetic counterpoint to the association otherwise
of water with nourishing Torah learning (a motif we will see extends into this story).8
R. Elazar ben Arach, [Hebrew] (Bar Ilan University, Jewish Studies, Internet Journal 13,
2015), 1-25.
6
Acts 16:6-10
7
William Mitchell Ramsay, The Cities and Bishoprics of Phrygia: Pt. I. The Lycos
Valley and South-Western Phrygia (Oxford: Oxford University, 1897), 674.
8
See pg. 102.
199
Rashi bares his antipathy for this Hellenization without reserve, commenting: “שהיו בעלי
( ”הנאה ועסוקים בכך ולא היו עוסקים בתורה ויצאו לתרבות רעהThey were hedonists (lit: “masters
of pleasure”), and occupied themselves with that, rather than occupying themselves with
Torah, and they went out to an evil culture).9 Note Rashi’s use of the traditional word for
engaging with Torah: עוסקיםand the clear distinction between the two approaches here.
In Perugaita, ideological and geopolitical boundaries align; right from the outset
of this aggadah, we understand that the Bavli looks upon Perugaita and its bathhouses as
beyond the pale.10
SECTION 2
איעקר תלמודיה: HIS LEARNING WAS UPROOTED
Our second section can be followed through three narrative sub-units: (a) Our
introduction to R’ Elazar and his travels to Perugaita; (b) his returns to the Eretz Yisrael
and loss his of his education; and (c) the Sages’ prayers for him, and restoration of his
learning. A brief look at R’ Elazar’s life as portrayed elsewhere helps round out our
understanding of his role in this story: A second generation Tanna, R’ Elazar is the
subject of several well-known mishnahs in Avot, including the following:
. ורבי יהושע בן חנניה. ואלו הן רבי אליעזר בן הורקנוס.חמשה תלמידים היו לרבן יוחנן בן זכאי
רבי אליעזר. הוא היה מונה שבחן. ורבי אלעזר בן ערך. ורבי שמעון בן נתנאל.ורבי יוסי הכהן
רבי שמעון בן. רבי יוסי חסיד. רבי יהושע אשרי יולדתו.בן הורקנוס בור סיד שאינו מאבד טפה
הוא היה אומר אם יהיו כל חכמי ישראל. ורבי אלעזר בן ערך מעין המתגבר.נתנאל ירא חטא
אם יהיו. אבא שאול אומר משמו. ואליעזר בן הורקנוס בכף שניה מכריע את כולם,בכף מאזנים
ורבי אליעזר בן הורקנוס אף עמהם ורבי אלעזר בכף שניה מכריע.כל חכמי ישראל בכף מאזנים
:את כולם
9
Rashi on bShab. 147b, s.v. קפחו עשרת השבטים
For more on the history of the deyomsit and bathhouses, and their portrayal in rabbinic
literature, see Julius Preuss, Biblical and Talmudic Medicine (Ed. and Trans. Fred
Rosner; Lanham: Jason Aronson, 2004), 535-536.
10
200
Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai had five students: Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrkanus,
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Hananya, Rabbi Yosi the Priest, Rabbi Shimon ben
Netanel, and Rabbi Elazar ben Arakh. He would recount their praises: Rabbi
Eliezer ben Hyrkanus is a cistern covered in plaster that does not lose a drop.
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Hananya – happy is the one who gave birth to him! Rabbi
Yosi the Priest is pious. Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel fears sin. And Rabbi Elazar
ben Arakh is an overflowing spring. [Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai] used to say:
If all the sages of Israel were on one side of a scale, and Rabbi Eliezer ben
Hyrkanus were on the other side, [Rabbi Eliezer] would outweigh them all.
Abba Shaul said in his name that if all the sages of Israel, including Rabbi
Eliezer ben Hyrkanus, were on one side of a balance scale, and Rabbi Elazar
ben Arakh were on the other side, [Rabbi Elazar] would outweigh them all.11
Among the rabbis listed, note that R’ Eliezer ben Hyrkanus and R’ Elazar ben Arakh are
presented in opposing metaphors: R’ Eliezer is a waterproof cistern, while R’ Elazar is an
overflowing spring. We are already familiar with the significant association between
water and Torah, which is mapped metaphorically onto these two rabbis. The
juxtaposition of these two rabbis, notes Goshen-Gottstein, represents a confrontation
between two pedagogies of Torah study:
One is the plastered cistern that does not lose a drop but preserves the tradition
that is transmitted from one generation to the next; R’ Eliezer took pride in
never paying anything that he had not heard directly from his teacher.12
According to this ideal, the sage who studies Torah contains the traditions of
his teacher without changing anything. On the other hand, R’ Eleazar ben
Arach is described as the overflowing spring, one in whom everything wells
up inside. He is an innovator drawing on creative force and argumentative
power to enhance his learning. The sage who engages in the study of Torah is
likened to a spring, overflowing with torrents of water.13
This beautifully captures the multifaceted debate we have tracked through other sources
between rote study and b’iyyun understanding of halakhic logic; between encyclopedic
memorization and creative innovation. R’ Elazar’s travels to Perugaita, known for its hot
11
mAvot 2:8
See bBer. 27b
13
Goshen-Gottstein, The Sinner and the Amnesiac, 235.
12
201
spring bathhouse, is laden with poetic meaning – the ( מעין המתגברoverflowing spring)
himself, headed off to a hot spring that seems as though it should be off limits.
But why is he going there in the first place? Beyond its historical infamy, Perugaita
has additional thematic relevance, which is seen in parallel versions of this story in Avot
deRabbi Natan and Kohelet Rabbah.14 Presented below, respectively, they reveal a
slightly different version of events from that in Shabbat:
…הוא אמר אלך לדמסית למקום יפה ומים יפים ונאים והם אמרו נלך ליבנה למקום שתלמידי
חכמים מרובים אוהבים את התורה הוא שהלך לדמסית למקום יפה ומים יפים ונאים נתמעט שמו
.בתורה הם שהלכו ליבנה למקום שת״ח מרובים ואוהבים את התורה נתגדל שמם בתורה
[R’ Elazar ben Arakh] said: “I will go to Dumsit (Deyomsit), to a beautiful
place with beautiful and pleasant waters. They (his fellow sages) said: “Let us
go to Yavneh, to a place with many scholars who love Torah.” The one who
went Dumsit – to a beautiful place with beautiful and pleasant waters – his
name was diminished in Torah. The ones who went to Yavneh – to a place with
many scholars who love Torah – their names became great in Torah.15
*
*
*
המתין להם, מקום מים יפים ְונוה יפה, והלך רבי אלעזר בן ערך אצל אשתו ְלאמאוס,הלכו ְליבנה
.שיבואו אצלו ולא באו
They (his fellow sages) went to Yavneh and R’ Elazar went after his wife to
Emmaus,16 a place with beautiful waters and a beautiful view. He waited for
them to come after him, but they did not come.17
While in our aggadah from Shabbat, R’ Elazar only “happens upon” Perugaita,18 in these
other versions, he actively chooses to travel there. Between a life of sagacity in Yavneh,
14
See Goshen-Gottstein, The Sinner and the Amnesiac, for a source-criticism analysis
and comparison of these sources, and Levine, “R. Elazar B. Arach,” for more of a literary
study.
15
Avot d’Rebbe Natan 14:6
16
Similar to the Hebrew חמת, meaning a hot spring.
17
Qoh. Rab. 7:2
18
The Bavli uses the passive words “איקלע,” (happened upon) and אימשי,” (drawn to)
rather than a more active (and much more common) verb such as ( אזלto go).
202
the most magnificent site of Jewish learning, or a life influenced by Hellenistic hedonism,
R’ Elazar chooses Perugaita, thus portrayed as the antithesis of Jewish learning.19
Returning to our sugya, we now have a deeper understanding of the significance
of this location, and of R’ Elazar’s character. The dramatic event upon which the story
now hinges is the erasure from his mind of all of his learning. The text portrays R’ Elazar
as being “drawn to” Perugaita, drawn to this site antithetical to the entire rabbinic
enterprise. We sense the power, the magnetic pull of the foreign culture there, and in an
instant, his knowledge is gone. The crafting of the aggadah hammers the point home:
three staccato couplets of two words each emphasize the power and rapidity of this
foreign locale: he happened by, he was dragged in, and his learning was uprooted. Rashi,
like our parallel sources, argues that perhaps this catastrophe was not so passive, and that
R’ Elazar ran after the wine that was there (the same wine that deprived Israel of ten of its
historical tribes).20 Nonetheless, the polemic against the foreign culture and its negative
impact on learning is clear.
The term used to describe the loss of R’ Elazar’s learning is quite significant.
Most literally, we can understand איעקרto mean “uprooted,” or “torn out,” thus, “his
learning was uprooted,” but the either way, the important aspect to note is the passivity of
the term. This is an event that happened upon R’ Elazar, due to the character of the
milieu. The poignancy of this moment is elevated when we see that איעקרcan also refer to
19
Of course, this begs the question: if R’ Elazar ben Arakh is among the greatest of sages
in the eyes of Yohanan ben Zakkai, why is it that he would not choose to travel to
Yavneh? See pg. 210 for more on this peculiarity and the historicity of his character.
20
Rashi on bShab 147b, s.v. אימשיך בתרייהו. The term also appears throughout the Bavli,
in some instances referring to being drawn toward prohibited substances, or away from
God. See bEruv. 42a; bPes. 108a; bSuk. 3a.
203
barrenness or impotence.21 Against this meaning, we might translate איעקר תלמודיהas “his
learning became barren,” or “his learning was made impotent.” The meaning functions
well, rather tragically, each way: either he loses his ability to incubate and nurture life or
to (figuratively) fertilize others with learning. Note the connection to the sugya from
Sanhedrin 99a that we examined in Chapter 4, which also drew an explicit connection
between fertility, agricultural rootedness, and learning Torah.22 Rashi’s comment here
helps round out the power of the moment. He suggests that two distinct, but related,
events happen: first R’ Elazar’s knowledge was uprooted (again, emphasizing the
passivity of the moment), and then he forgot everything.23
Percolating beneath the surface is a critique on the dual approaches to study
emphasized by the mishnah from Avot: “While the ‘sealed cistern,’24 does not lose a
drop,” writes Rabbi Yoseph Hayyim, “the overflowing spring loses all its water when
distanced from the sages of Israel.”25 Milieu and student intertwine with devastating
consequences. Whether or not R’ Elazar intentionally immersed himself in this off-limits
foreign culture, the sense of violation and loss is palpable, as the Bavli emphasizes just
how restricted this environment should be.
21
See bShab. 63b; bPes. 101a; and bYev. 64b (where, interestingly, in the opposite of
this scenario, one becomes important from sitting through too many lectures).
22
See pg. 60-61.
23
Rashi on bShab 147b, s.v. איעקר תלמודיה
24
Alluding to the prominent theme of forgetting and memory, Goshen-Gottstein
observes: “Perhaps the fear of forgetting is more pronounced for the path of study
represented by R’ Eleazar ben Arach. The preservation of Torah is not simply the
preservation of information; it is the preservation of the open-hearted, full-flowing
method of innovation that characterizes the sage.” (Goshen-Gottstein, The Sinner and the
Amnesiac, 381 n81).
25
Levine, “R. Elazar B. Arach,” 283.
204
The second sub-unit continues with R’ Elazar’s return to Eretz Yisrael, the land of
his fellow scholars. As R’ Elazar ascends to read from a Torah scroll, the narrative
portrays the consequences of his loss of wisdom with form matching content to brilliant
effect. The verse he intended to read: “החדש הזה לכם,” (Ex. 12:2) comes out “החרש היה
לבם,” as, barely remembering how to read Hebrew and to distinguish between letters that
look similar, R’ Elazar confuses a רwith a ד, a יwith a ז, and a בwith a כ. Thus, the
Torah’s sentence “This month shall be for you,” is rendered “Have their hearts become
deaf?” Goshen-Gottstein observes the intentionality behind the crating of this aggadah,
as – חדשliterally meaning month, but also conveying newness and innovation – is
replaced by ( חרשdeafness).26 The dexterity of the Bavli here is impressive: it shows the
potential hazards of R’ Elazar’s focus on חידושיםwith his inability to retain knowledge
when compared to the reservoir-like knowledge of R’ Eliezer ben Hyrkanus, and
simultaneously laments the loss of the חידושdue to deafness. An unspoken resolution to
the debate which has followed us through the Bavli may be present here: perhaps the
debate isn’t a debate at all, but a holistic approach to learning. Both cisterns and
overflowing springs have their merits; both canonical literacy and innovations are
valuable.
The content of this misread verse is not inconsequential or arbitrary. It is the
subject of great commentary, being the verse that Rashi suggests should have logically
commenced the Torah, as it contains first commandment given directly to the entire
community of Israel.27 The commandment that R’ Elazar cannot remember is not only a
26
27
Goshen-Gottstein, The Sinner and the Amnesiac, 253
Rashi on Gen. 1:1, s.v. בראשית
205
well-known one, but one whose very meaning is attributed to it by the role that
community plays. The contrast with R’ Elazar leaving his community of learners is stark.
The misreading itself carries meaning, as well. R’ Elazar speaks – erroneously, but
no less significantly – of hearts that have become deaf. Another mishnah featuring R’
Elazar has him teaching the virtues of a good heart.28 This motif of synesthesia also
touches on the same theme we saw in the sugya from Hagigah in chapter 8, which
adjures students of Torah to make their ears like funnels and to acquire an understanding
heart, in order to hear from all.29 Both notions evoke a sense of learning as a holistic and
active process that requires us to be attuned both to the words and emotions of others. Far
from home and his community of learners, R’ Elazar is not able to do this – there are no
others for him to learn from. His question, “have their hearts become deaf?” may as well
have been directed at himself! But it is precisely because he is now back in an appropriate
milieu that the story may resolve happily.
R’ Elazar’s fellow teachers pray to God for his intellectual and mental well-being.
As a result, just as quickly as he lost his knowledge, it returns to him. The clipped
narrative presents a distinct mirroring here of the opening of R’ Elazar’s journey:
Opening
Closing
3
\ איעקר2 \ אימשיך בתרייהו1איקלע להתם
\ והדר תלמודיה2 \ רחמי עליה1בעו רבנן
3
תלמודיה
1
He happened by / he was dragged in2 /
The sages prayed1 / for mercy upon him2 /
and his learning was uprooted3
and his learning returned3
The first clause establishes a relationship with space and people: in the former
passage, the space is a foreign land with a foreign people; in the latter, the space is his
28
29
mAvot 2:9
bHag. 3b, see pg. 175.
206
home community with fellow sages. The second clause adds momentum and a sense of
ontological/theological direction: in the former passage, he is dragged away, down
towards potential heresy. In the latter, God’s mercy comes down upon him from on high.
The final clause emphasizes the results, which poetically mirror each other to drive the
point home: learning can only happen amongst a community of fellow learners of a
manifestly similar identity.
There is also an explicit connection here between R’ Elazar’s act of returning to the
proper place and his knowledge returning, as the text parallels itself (note that the root בע
connotes both to want/desire something, and to pray):30
כי הדר אתא קם למיקרי בספרא בעא למיקראWhen he returned, and stood to read
from a scroll, he wanted to read the
verse…
בעו רבנן רחמי עליה והדר תלמודיהThe sages prayed for mercy upon him,
And his learning returned
The speed of R’ Elazar’s forgiveness is also notable, given other instances where
similar reading and scribal errors are said to have drastic consequences.31 Here, there is
no chastising or correction of the error, just a prayer for mercy,32 and the return of R’
30
See also Levine, “R. Elazar B. Arach,” 284.
For example, the aggadah involving King David, Yoav, and Yoav’s teacher at bB.
Metz. 21a-b involves a teacher mistranslating a word while teaching, and as a result,
Yoav learns incorrect halakhot. In retaliation, he (possibly) kills his teacher. See also
bEruv. 13a for the importance in being meticulous in scribal work, and the assertion that
even an error involving one letter would destroy the world. As a counterpoint, elders who
forget their learning due to circumstances beyond their control are still afforded the
honour as if they were teachers (bBer. 8b).
32
The rabbis’ prayer for mercy, along with the elaborate hand of the editor and use of
parallelism in this sugya makes me wonder if the notion of mercy here ( )רחמיis being
deployed intentionally to parallel the earlier portrayal of R’ Elazar as איעקר. As noted, the
term can also mean barren, while the root רחםalso refers to a womb (see bB. Batra 16b
and bHul. 70a). Is the editor poetically suggesting that the rabbis are also beseeching God
to make their compatriot fertile with Torah once again?
31
207
Elazar’s learning. While the Torah has significance, and would normally demand greater
deference, the Bavli prioritizes focus here on the milieu in its polemic against
environments that are dangerous to learning. For a moment, the subject matter takes a
backseat.
SECTION 3
הוי גולה למקום תורה: EXILE YOURSELF TO A PLACE OF TORAH
The story reaches its dénouement, and a strong moral is offered through a passage
from Mishnah Avot attributed to R’ Nehorai (whose identity will shortly become vital).
Commenting on the idea of exile to a place of Torah, Rashi encapsulates the thesis of our
entire text: “If you are a Torah scholar, do not live anywhere but in the place of a fellow
scholar, and do not say ‘they are students, they will come to me, and it is enough for me
in that, so why should I be exiled?’”33 Having examined the parallel texts which
juxtapose R’ Elazar against his colleagues, and show him waiting futilely for them to
arrive, we can appreciate the injunction against such idle behaviour. An idea somewhat
foreign to contemporary formal education, individual teachers, our text says, must play
an active role in cultivating their student body.
Community, as we have seen, is key. Not just for defining appropriate learning
spaces, but for defining the kind of learning that can happen within them. The mishnah
here closes by quoting a text from Proverbs, directing learners not to trust their
understanding alone. This is the ideology underpinning our sugya and many others
33
Rashi on bShab. 147b s.v. הוי גולה למקום תורה
208
throughout the Bavli,34 and the idea and practice of havruta learning.35 It was reflected in
the closing to the sugya from Hagigah in chapter 8, and is one of the backbones of the
entire classical rabbinic corpus: Jewish learning is a communal endeavour.36
This is a strong argument for a homogenous culture of learning, strongly predicated
on the Jewish identity of the learners. It views the identity of learning spaces as defined
both by the dominant culture as well as by a critical mass of “people like me.” Elsewhere,
the Bavli devotes attention to practical aspects of learning spaces outside of the beit
midrash, adjuring against distractions37 and impurities,38 but here, as in our other
commonplaces, the focus is squarely on the identity of the space.
34
bBer. 6a; bEruv. 55a; bMeg. 3a-b; 29a; bTa’an. 7a; bMak. 10a; bAZ 17b-18a
For more on the history of havruta and its implications on contemporary pedagogy, see
Eli Holzer and Orit Kent, A Philosophy of Havruta: Understanding and Teaching the Art
of Text Study in Pairs (Brighton: Academic Studies, 2013).
36
I have avoided commenting thus far on contemporary application of the Bavli’s
philosophies of education. The conclusion of this thesis contains general observations and
questions to consider in this light, but with regard to the ideology the Bavli presents here,
it seems germane to raise a relevant contemporary issue, namely that of online
supplementary Jewish education programs. Given the insistence on a communal setting,
free of foreign influence, with the ability to rely on the understanding of another person,
it is intriguing to ponder if the recent rise in elementary Jewish distance-learning
represents a significant departure from the philosophy presented here, and what that
might say about the Jewish character of online learning.
For more on this phenomenon, see: Shaya First, “Webcams in Halachah.” No
pages [2015] Online:
https://staff.ncsy.org/education/education/material/4xED8Q9PZ1/webcams-in-halachah;
Julie Wiener, “For Hebrew Learning, The Skype’s The Limit.” No pages [26 May 2010].
Online: http://jewishweek.timesofisrael.com/for-hebrew-learning-the-skypes-the-limit;
Vanessa Morese, “How Skype Helps This Southern Jewish Family Stay in Sunday
School.” No pages. [18 September 2015] Online: https://www.myjewishlearning.com/
southern-and-jewish/ sunday-school-skype-style ; Johanna Ginsberg, “School offers
alternative Hebrew lessons via Skype.” No pages [11 September 2013] Online:
http://njjewishnews.com/article/18427/school-offers-alternative-hebrew-lessons-viaskype#.WmnJTyMZMXo
37
bMo’ed Qat. 16a-b
38
bBer. 24b, 25a; bSuk 28a; bTa’an. 20b; bMeg. 28a; bHor. 13b
35
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SECTION 4
עיני חכמים מנהיר: HE ILLUMINATED THE EYES OF THE SAGES
Our case study closes with an intriguing twist. The identity of R’ Nehorai from
the quoted mishnah is suddenly questioned, and the Bavli suggests that he is not who we
think he is. Two alternatives are proposed: perhaps, he is actually R’ Nehemia, a
poetically appropriate option, given the shared meaning of his name and the focus on
( רחמיםmercy) we have already noted. Or, perhaps he is R’ Elazar ben Arakh, our
itinerant rabbi! Why would the Bavli make such an audacious suggestion? The mishnah
immediately preceding the one which appears at the conclusion of this aggadah is one
whose themes conspicuously appear throughout our tale:
. כתר תורה. רבי שמעון אומר שלשה כתרים הם.הוי זהיר בתלמוד ששגגת תלמודעולהזדון
. וכתר שם טוב עולה על גביהן. וכתר מלכות.וכתר כהונה
Be careful when teaching, for your errors in teaching are considered as
intentional transgression. Rabbi Shimon said: There are three crowns: the
crown of Torah, the crown of priesthood and the crown of the monarchy - but
the crown of a good name outweighs them all.39
Perhaps the awareness of this mishnah serves as a thematic corrective, offering a
good name to R’ Elazar following his redemption. Alternatively, Goshen-Gottstein offers
a convincing historical analysis:
One possibility is that R’ Nehorai’s statement assumes autobiographical value.
It is understood in light of a true event and expresses the wisdom that the sage
acquired following that event… However, there is a second possibility…
Identifying R’ Eleazar ben Arach with R’ Nehorai proves how far removed
later tradition is from the historical perspective. This approach amounts to a
counterclaim against all the non-historical adaptations previously mentioned.
The claim is that R’ Eleazar ben Arach was a famous sage. If he was, why are
there no traditions in his name? Because his traditions were handed down in
39
mAvot 4:13
210
another name, which expresses his relationship with other rabbis… This
technique of identifying figures is customary in the biblical exegesis of the
sages… The need to defend R’ Eleazar ben Arach and the method he represents
is the catalyst for the use of this technique… Being detached from historical
fact paradoxically is helpful in returning to a more balanced perspective on R’
Eleazar ben Arach.40
Indeed, for a rabbi praised by R’ Yohanan ben Zakkai as being among the elite, there are
very few teachings attributed to R’ Elazar ben Arakh.
Few, but not none. One prominent example is related to concepts that we are
already intimately familiar with: “. ודע מה שתשיב.רבי אלעזר אומר הוי שקוד ללמוד תורה
( ”לאפיקורוסR’ Elazar says: ‘be diligent in learning Torah. And know how to answer an
)אפיקורוס.41 We began our inquiry into the Bavli’s understandings of education by
examining the role the idea of the אפיקורוסplays in forging student identity. The אפיקורוס
is entirely out of the bounds of normative Jewish behaviour in the eyes of the Bavli, and
is condemned to spiritual exile, with no share in Olam HaBa. What these two sugyas
share is an awareness of boundaries: of space, of identity, and of ideology.
We end our study here with an entirely different understanding of exile, one that
is actually advocated! The Bavli suggests that wherever one might be going in life, it
should be to a place of Torah. If that place is not Yavneh (literally, or as a figurative
representation of a place of study), one should be certain to still be surrounded by other
Torah scholars. Not being in a community of serious learners is seen as a form of
spiritual/academic exile that is liable to cause one to forget one’s learning. The aggadah,
in exhorting one not to passively expect one’s students to arrive, also advocates a
powerful sense of humility and responsibility to a greater community beyond oneself.
40
41
Goshen-Gottstein, The Sinner and the Amnesiac, 255
mAvot 2:14
211
All told, this engaging aggadah raises some critical questions (and some firm
answers) about what the Bavli deems important for a learning milieu:
•
What is the “identity” of the ideal milieu? This sugya is does not delineate a
specific physical space of learning. Elsewhere, as we have seen, we are painted a
picture of the characteristics of the beit midrash, or of elementary schools. But
here, we are shown, explicitly, the identity of a place where there is no learning,
and implicitly, the identity of a place where learning can flourish. For the Bavli, it
is homogeneous in the religious makeup42 of its participants, but heterogeneous in
its emphasis on needing varying sources to reach understanding. It is a place
where God’s presence can be manifest, and where the spiritual significance of the
learning can be felt.
•
Can Jewish learning take place anywhere, or are there sharply defined
boundaries? There are clear boundaries of ideology and identity which are
mapped out (literally) onto geopolitical boundaries. The very notion of a מקום תורה
necessitates that there are places that are sans-Torah, clearly an option anathema
to the rabbis. In our example, one physical space (the bathhouse and the region in
which it is situated) is clearly beyond the pale, while one (Eretz Yisrael) is
valorized.
•
Is the learning environment a distinct space dedicated to knowledge acquisition,
or a space for experimentation? There is tension here, as there is throughout the
Bavli, between acquisition and conservation (represented by the cistern
metaphor), and innovation (represented by the flowing stream). What is intriguing
42
And, presumably, the gendered makeup, though this is not a feature of this discussion.
212
here is the direct connection between these pedagogies and their applicability in
different physical spaces. R’ Elazar’s approach to studying Torah was not
appropriate for the environment in which he found himself.
•
What degree of structure and control are required in establishing a learning
environment? There is a remarkable emphasis on the need for attention to detail,
but also on empathy and compassion (through the Sages’ prayer for R’ Elazar).
To a degree, this aggadah approaches the notion of inclusivity in learning spaces
as well – it questions what happens when someone no longer has the requisite
knowledge or learning abilities to occupy a space of learning, and prompts us to
consider what obligations one has to create a space where they can still learn.
•
The role of community and its relationship with a learning environment is of
paramount importance. On the one hand, any milieu might be appropriate for
learning, so long as there is a critical mass of fellow Sages. On the other, the
encroaching foreign influence limits what spaces are in play.
Aside from its dramatically enlightening examination of a learning milieu and the
thematic connection to some of the other material we have examined, this compact
aggadah is notable in that it packs in commentary on all four of our educational
commonplaces. It proposes significant ideas on responsibilities of students and teachers,
the relative status of the subject matter, and what makes a learning space viable. We are
ultimately treated to two scenarios here: when they are out of balance (when the milieu is
wrong or the student does not take the correct responsibility), the results are shown to be
disastrous. But, as at the end, when all four work together, at their best, the result is that
213
the student does not just become enlightened himself through his learning, but can
enlighten others.
PART III
TRANSCENDENT LEARNING
215
CHAPTER 11
CONCLUSION
FINDING A PLACE OF TORAH
Wherever one might be going in life, our final sugya from masekhet Shabbat
shares, it should be to a מקום תורה, a place of Torah. It is a beautiful goal, and one that
underpins much of Jewish thought and practice. But the Bavli as a whole has wildly
different ideas about how to get there. This is at once frustrating, tantalizing, and
enthralling. While, conceivably, it would be easier to have a pro forma plan detailing
how to bring one toward the Torah’s wisdom, getting there, I suspect, would be less
satisfying. Instead, the Bavli provides us with an extensive collection of rabbinic thought,
halakhic discourse, aggadic models, and a plethora of debates – both resolved and
unresolved – that draws us into the process of charting our own map over its landscape.
I have tried to do some of my own mapping through the four sugyas of the
educational commonplaces. These are only four, and yet we get a sense of how they
reflect the vastness of this rabbinic terrain. Having examined these texts and some of the
material underpinning them, can anything definitive be said about this collection? This is
the very question we began with. We heeded the warnings of scholars who reminded us
that the stratified and multivalent nature of the text makes this nearly impossible. To
suggest otherwise would certainly be disingenuous. Indeed, we have seen that much of
what the Bavli says about education focuses on debating and navigating boundaries, and
determining the scope of a conversation, rather than imposing a singular perspective.
Daniel Boyarin reminds us of the practical implications of drawing wisdom from this
body:
Any view or interpretation that is undercut by another in the same canonical
work unsettles, almost by definition, its own use as a foundation for cultural
and social practice… Thus a view will often enough be quoted as if typical
217
of rabbinic Judaism when in fact it has been cited in the Talmudic text only
to be discredited or at any rate undermined by a counter-text. 1
What, then, are we to do? If Boyarin is correct, to what degree can the Bavli be a
foundation for cultural and social practice? In this respect, and with regard to the material
we have studied, I tend to lean more toward the view of Hyam Maccoby, who argues
that, “while many distinctions and acknowledgments of development and change need to
be made… there is an underlying unity in the whole corpus, arising from the community
of scholarship and thought that it represents.”2 Maccoby perhaps overplays his hand –
given recent scholarship, we gain the sense that the unity of the whole corpus is
questionable. But his perspective does address a lingering question that has accompanied
me through this study: if all we are left with at the end of the day is a collection of texts
that cannot be integrated together to provide a very real cultural, social, and religious
foundation, is this endeavour all for nought?
I have to believe that this is not the case. Moulie Vidas’ general argument3 serves
as a counterpoint to Boyarin’s, suggesting that the redactors of the Bavli’s sugyas
desperately had something that they wanted to convey. This urgency, this desire to reach
out and influence others, I believe, does provide the foundation Boyarin is perhaps
looking for. What was it that they wanted us to feel urgently? These issues indeed are
alive, reflected in the insistence of the passages on the transcendent value of the
educational project. When we read of Roman soldiers studying Mishnah,4 students hiding
1
Boyarin, Carnal Israel, 28.
Hyam Maccoby, The Philosophy of the Talmud, ix.
3
Vidas, Tradition and the Formation of the Talmud, 117.
4
bB. Qama 38a
2
218
under their rabbi’s marital bed to learn about the Torah of sex,5 rabbis’ eyes falling out,6
God seeking advice from a personified Torah,7 knowledge evaporating from one’s mind,8
and education sustaining the very fabric of the cosmos,9 we get the distinct sense that
there is something powerful at stake here. These issues are very much alive for the rabbis,
and can be for us, as well.
When we filter these teachings through the paradigm of the four commonplaces,
we see how they can speak to and amplify one other. It is true that the sugyas I have
chosen to study here could conceivably be examined from different commonplaces. The
story from Hagigah 3a-b about the nature of Torah could just as easily be read, as Jeffrey
Rubenstein does,10 as a lesson about the importance of honouring one’s teacher, or
alternatively, about the learning environment and what is demanded by a beit midrash.
But I believe that the power of the texts is not only to be found in an attempt to isolate
their original sources and intent, but in bringing them together in conversation. When we
do, we see that to a remarkable degree, they share an orientation around many of the
same concerns: who are teachers and students, and what are their responsibilities to each
other and to their shared project? What is the nature of the Torah as a document of
knowledge, wisdom, and truth, and how should it be studied? Where are the most
nourishing places for learning to take place? Not every sugya on learning in the Bavli
represents this kind of fusion of focus. But many do.
5
bBer. 62a
bHag. 3b
7
bSanh. 101a
8
bShab. 147b
9
bSanh. 99b
10
Rubenstein, Stories of the Babylonian Talmud, 98.
6
219
Vidas suggests each sugya was composed intentionally with a sense of urgency on
the part of its redactors. This, I believe, is the power of reading these texts together. What
happens when the urgency of each teaching amplifies the others? Particularly when they
share a common concern for learning, the sense of urgency and the cosmic importance
grows. We can visualize stones dropping into a pond, or sound waves ricocheting off one
another. While each has its own source, they grow stronger together and amplify each
other as they meet.
WHAT CAN WE SAY?
Here, then, are the salient pieces that I believe the Bavli presents us that can be
held up together – not as an example of a unified pedagogy on the part of the Bavli’s
redactors, but as part of shared commitment to the project of learning. The point is not to
list them as the “greatest hits of the Talmud,” but to see, when held up together, what is
calling out to us. Put another way by returning to one of our initial questions: Is there a
transcendent vision of learning, and if so what is it, and what claim does it hold on us? In
laying out these ideas, as noted, we find a diversity of answers, but, perhaps, a uniformity
of questions beneath them.
•
Being a student and being a teacher are, in part, identities that are bound up in
each other. Learning is not something to be hoarded, but something to be shared,
and the expectation is that learners become teachers, and teachers continue to
learn.
220
•
The relationship between teacher and student is not merely transactional for the
imparting of knowledge, but is a deeply intimate bond. This relationship has the
characteristics at times of that between a parent and child, or between two
spouses. The ability for a student to learn from the character traits of others as a
sine qua non for learning, argues Hirshman, is remarkable.11
•
Learning is broadly viewed as a group process, for both practical and
ideological/identity reasons, but the Bavli also displays an emphasis on learners
as individuals. In particular, students are, for the most part, seen not as empty
vessels to be filled, but as fully-developed human beings with emotional,
physical, and spiritual needs demanding attention and care.
•
Torah – in the broad sense of the word – is said to be something that can be
learned anywhere, but there are limits placed on that expansiveness, and places
where its gravity is more powerfully experienced and absorbed. The places most
germane to study often seem to be characterized less by the physical character of
the space, and more by whom one is with in that space.
•
The supreme value of Torah is upheld, but there are ongoing, and largely
unresolved, debates about how best to inculcate a knowledge of Torah that
addresses the halakhic concerns of the day:
o Is a broad knowledge of halakhah as practiced most important, or should
one have a deep appreciation of its jurisprudential principles?
11
Hirshman, Stabilization of Rabbinic Culture, 118-119.
221
o Underlying this debate is another one between learning directed toward
preservation and learning toward innovation.
o This, itself, is predicated on a debate as to the very nature of Torah: is it
static and unchanging through the ages, or is it multivalent, allencompassing, and open to ?חידושים
o Is a teacher to be evaluated based on qualitative or quantitative standards?
The diversity of the Bavli in this respect invites us in to embrace this
capaciousness, and to consider when one methodology is needed over another,
rather than which should be seen as the exclusive opinion.
•
Practically speaking, this awareness of the depth and breadth of wisdom
accompanies (a) a visceral fear of forgetting one’s knowledge, (b) the
paramount value of review to combat that fear, and (c) a remarkable emphasis
on the physical and mental intensity required of learning.
•
Education is idealized as an existence-long endeavour, extending in both
directions beyond the confines of a natural human lifespan.
•
The value of education is ultimately multifaceted: it has practical value in
teaching and learning how to fulfill mitzvot, intellectual value in how to discern
the logic behind halakhot, ideological value in upholding education as a worthy
enterprise, and transcendent value in its relationship to the divine. This
transcendent element perhaps represents a singularly Jewish understanding of
the role of a student: learning and education have the power to influence both the
222
human physical world and the divine spiritual world, impacting and sustaining
the structure of the cosmos.
It is this final point on the transcendent value of education that resonates the most
loudly for me. It is one of the most salient themes that has emerged through this study,
and if anything can be said with consistency about the Bavli, it is that it understands
learning and teaching to have cosmic significance. This is not meant to be a cliché or a
quaint aphorism to adorn a classroom, but a profound statement on the underlying
philosophy of the Bavli, and one that can have significant implications on how the text
can impact our lives.
ON TRANSCENDENCE AND SPIRITUALITY
Parker Palmer notes a particular challenge facing many involved in the field of
education, what he calls the “pain of disconnection.”12 He observes that the focus in
many educational institutions13 on achievement and on constantly trying to teach material
and skills that will be perceived as having contemporary relevance takes its toll on
educators. To mitigate pain and disconnection, he advocates a spiritual approach to
education, that looks toward emphasizing the educational journey over the practical end
of it. He observes:
A spirituality of ends wants to dictate the desirable outcomes of education in
the life of the student. It uses the spiritual tradition as a template against which
the ideas, beliefs, and behaviours of the student are to be measured. The goal
12
Parker J. Palmer, Parker J. To Know as we are Known. Education as a Spiritual
Journey, (San Francisco: Harper, 1993), x
13
Here, he is speaking of secular schooling, though his critique is familiar to anyone who
has worked in Jewish educational settings.
223
is to shape the student to the template by the time his or her formal education
concludes.
But that sort of education never gets started; it is no education at all. Authentic
spirituality wants to open us to truth – whatever truth may be, wherever truth
may take us. Such a spirituality does not dictate where we must go, but trusts
that any path walked with integrity will take us to a place of knowledge.
Such a spirituality encourages us to welcome diversity and conflict, to tolerate
ambiguity, and to embrace paradox. By this understanding, the spirituality of
education is not about dictating ends. It is about examining and clarifying the
inner sources of teaching and learning, ridding us of the toxins that poison our
hearts and minds.14
Palmer’s philosophy does not map one-to-one onto the Bavli’s. As we have seen, our text
wrestles deeply with questions of where boundary lines are drawn, and does not conclude
that any “path walked with integrity will take us to a place of knowledge.” Indeed, the
Bavli is quite fearful of some places of knowledge (consider what happened to R’ Elazar
ben Arakh when he ventured to the public baths at Perugaita).15 But Palmer’s insistence
on a spiritual approach to education that welcomes diversity, conflict, ambiguity, and
paradox resonates remarkably with what we have encountered in our texts. Indeed, he
advocates an approach to education that emphasizes teachers and learners in covenantal
relationship with each other and with God, “as members of a community of creation that
depends on us and on which we depend.”16
There is something remarkably Jewish about this approach (Palmer himself is a
Quaker). Consider one of R’ Abraham Joshua Heschel’s own critiques of Jewish
education as often approached:
The Hebrew term for education means not only to train but also to dedicate,
to consecrate… The survival of the Jewish people is our basic concern. But
14
Palmer, To Know as We are Known, xi.
bShab. 147b
16
Palmer, To Know as We are Known, 10.
15
224
what kind of survival, we must continually ask, and for what purpose? Many
questions come to mind when one analyzes the ideology underlying the
content and composition of contemporary textbooks… Let us remember that
it is not enough to impart information. We must strive to awaken
appreciation as well.
Our goal must be to enable the pupil to participate and share in the spiritual
experience of Jewish living.17
There are some who suggest the Bavli is a text concerned more with coldly delineating
halakhot that have no bearing on our life today, than in presenting an engaging
spirituality that addresses our eternal needs. I believe the opposite is true, and hope that
this examination through the eyes of Schwab’s commonplaces in part demonstrates that.
This is particularly relevant for those who share the concerns articulated by Palmer and
Heschel, and seek an approach to education that addresses them.
QUESTIONS ON WHERE TO GO FROM HERE
The question, then, is on the applicability of the Bavli’s orientation to current
models of Jewish education. To that end, I suggest the following questions for
consideration that all fall under a more general question: what if we asked the same
questions that the Bavli asks?
What would it mean for students in Jewish educational programs to learn in
environments where their identity as students was emphasized, valorized, and
elevated? Where from an early age, it was communicated in words and deed that
being a student of Torah was not just something that happened from nine o’clock
17
Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Insecurity of Freedom: Essays on Human Existence
(New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1966), 236.
225
to five o’clock each day (as in a day school setting) or from six o’clock to eight
o’clock on Wednesday evenings (as in a supplementary synagogue program), but
part and parcel of their identity as Jews? What factors would we need to consider
to effect such a change?
What would it mean to create a culture where teachers could best understand
themselves as occupying positions of honour and immense responsibility? How
might we address the challenges posed by fee-for-service communities, and
instead cultivate a sense of deep appreciation for the relational role that teachers
play in the lives of their students? And in such a world, what conditions would we
need to create to balance between the importance of kavod, and the human drive
to satisfy its ego? A non-Jewish version of this question I have often heard puts it
this way: “What would it be like if teachers were allowed to board airplanes first,
along with military officers?”
What would it mean if we understood the material we learned and taught to not
only be utilitarian in value (such as teaching Torah trope and liturgy for b’nai
mitzvah), or only about creating meaning by relating to contemporary issues
(Consider the many “what does Judaism say about…” models), but something of
transcendent, eternal value? This, perhaps, is the most significant challenge in
aligning the worldview of the Bavli with a contemporary pedagogy.
226
Contemporary Jewish youth movements often call their weekend retreats by a
Talmudic term: kallot. At some point in recent history, this naming decision was
made, though I wonder how many leaders today are aware of its origins, and if the
education that takes place there reflects its name. What might it look like to
emphasize the importance of considering the spaces in which we learn as having
equal importance to the teachers, students, and subject matters that inhabit them?
What would it mean to embrace with integrity the spaciousness that the Bavli
brings to the debate between preservation and innovation, and between the
permanence and expansiveness of Torah, without reducing Jewish teachings to
one or the other?
How one will seek answers to these questions has much to do with what
orientation one brings to the text itself.18 But no matter the orientation, it seems to me that
these are questions eminently crucial to how we teach Judaism today. The last question is
among the most pressing for me. Shulem Deen has observed what he sees as a frequent
flaw in contemporary non-Orthodox learning environments, that:
…often reduces the vast body of our traditional literature to proverbs and
aphorisms unearthed from deep within, so deep that their context is often
unknown, their original meanings replaced with a vapid overlay of modern
sensibilities, fashionably recasting ancient rabbis… We do this with good
intentions – and with profound ignorance.19
18
See: Levisohn, “A Menu of Orientations to the Teaching of Rabbinic Literature.”
Shulem Deen, “Why Talmud is the Way to be Jewish Without Judaism.” No pages. [9
June 2016] https://forward.com/my-heretical-year/342171/why-talmud-is-the-way-to-bejewish-without-judaism.
19
227
Deen’s proposed solution is, I believe, an elegant reflection of Parker Palmer’s and
Abraham Joshua Heschel’s quest for the transcendent and spiritual within our sacred text:
We have to grapple with ways of thinking that are so far from our own, and
still find the resonant chords; make sense of a logical system whose premises
are archaic and confounding and dogmatic, but still see its elegance; imagine a
world in which life’s mysteries and uncertainties are nearly unimaginable to
our modern minds, and still see, in those who lived with them, the same human
impulses as ours.20
When we do this, when we traverse the at times confounding terrain of the Bavli, when
we attune ourselves to the sense of urgency of the rabbis, we open ourselves to searching
for that place of great importance: a מקום תורה, a place of Torah, in the fullest sense.
The journey is one that takes great effort – lifting mountains over our heads, in the
minds of the Bavli. But in doing so, we take part in a voyage of transcendent worth. It is
one that can enlighten generations to come; one that can create more understanding and
compassion; one that can stitch together the very words of Torah themselves. Indeed, it is
one that might maintain the very fabric of the universe.
20
Deen, “Why Talmud is the Way to be Jewish Without Judaism.”
228
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