Midrashic Betrayal

Originally posted in December 2013.

Two Approaches to Chumash

The way I see it, the meforshim on Chumash can be divided into two distinct camps: those who make heavy use of midrashic literature, and those who focus on the straight pshat are sparing in their use of midrash. "Team Midrash" includes (but is not limited to) Targum Yonasan ben Uzziel, Rashi, Ramban, Chazkuni, and Rabbeinu Bachya ben Asher. Among the headliners of "Team Pshat" are Onkelos, Ibn Ezra, Rashbam, Bechor Shor, Rabbeinu Avraham ben ha'Rambam, Ralbag, and Sforno. There are also a number of meforshim who regularly offer both types of interpretations, such as Radak (on Sefer Bereishis), Abravanel, and the Baalei Tosafos.

I realize that these teams are not as clear-cut as I'm making them out to be. For example, Ramban and Rashi frequently give "plain pshat" interpretations which do not draw upon homiletic midrashim. Likewise, Ralbag and Avraham ben ha'Rambam occasionally mention ideas from these types of midrashim alongside their "plain pshat" explanations. Even the militantly anti-drash "pashtanim" like Ibn Ezra and Rashbam occasionally give a hat tip to the midrashic literature. Nevertheless, if you split the pshat/drash spectrum down the center, you'll find that most meforshim end up clearly on one side of the divide, even if there is some disagreement about exactly where they fall out.

If you accept this distinction, you will probably also agree that the majority of the Jewish world has embraced the midrashic approach as the preferred way to teach Chumash (or "Chumash with Rashi," as the subject is often called). Personally, my own style of teaching and learning of Chumash is guided by the non-midrashic commentators. 

However, my intent in this post is not to explain or justify my predilection. This post is about an obstacle I've encountered in my own experience as a Chumash teacher - an obstacle which has been fueled by Jewish educators' heavy reliance on the midrashic approach. I refer to this phenomenon as "Midrashic Betrayal." 

Our story begins with an anecdote about the man pictured below ...

How Richard Feynman Was Turned Off to Judaism

Readers of this blog may be aware that I'm a big fan of Richard Feynman - the fun-loving, ever-curious Nobel Prize winning physicist from Far Rockaway. Feynman was born Jewish but he lived out the majority of his life as an avowed atheist. The story of how he became an atheist is recorded in the book, "What Do You Care What Other People Think?": Further Adventures of a Curious Character (2001). It's a tragic story, but it sheds light on the problem that is the subject of this blog post. Here is the story as told by Feynman, with my own emphasis in bold:

I had been brought up in the Jewish religion — my family went to the temple every Friday, I was sent to what we called “Sunday school,” and I even studied Hebrew for a while — but at the same time, my father was telling me about the world. When I would hear the rabbi tell about some miracle such as a bush whose leaves were shaking but there wasn't any wind, I would try to fit the miracle into the real world and explain it in terms of natural phenomena.

Some miracles were harder than others to understand. The one about the leaves was easy. When I was walking to school, I heard a little noise: although the wind was hardly noticeable, the leaves of a bush were wiggling a little bit because they were in just the right position to make a kind of resonance. And I thought, “Aha! This is a good explanation for Elijah's vision of the quaking bush!”

But there were some miracles I never did figure out. For instance, there was a story in which Moses throws down his staff and it turns into a snake. I couldn't figure out what the witnesses saw that made them think his staff was a snake.

If I had thought back to when I was much younger, the Santa Claus story could have provided a clue for me. But it didn't hit me hard enough at the time to produce the possibility that I should doubt the truth of stories that don't fit with nature. When I found out that Santa Claus wasn't real, I wasn't upset; rather, I was relieved that there was a much simpler phenomenon to explain how so many children all over the world got presents on the same night! The story had been getting pretty complicated — it was getting out of hand.

Santa Claus was a particular custom we celebrated in our family, and it wasn't very serious. But the miracles I was hearing about were connected with real things: there was the temple, where people would go every week; there was the Sunday school, where rabbis taught children about miracles; it was much more of a dramatic thing. Santa Claus didn't involve big institutions like the temple, which I knew were real.

So all the time I was going to the Sunday school, I was believing everything and having trouble putting it together. But of course, ultimately, it had to come to a crisis, sooner or later.

The actual crisis came when I was eleven or twelve. The rabbi was telling us a story about the Spanish Inquisition, in which the Jews suffered terrible tortures. He told us about a particular individual whose name was Ruth, exactly what she was supposed to have done, what the arguments were in her favor and against her — the whole thing, as if it had all been documented by a court reporter. And I was just an innocent kid, listening to all this stuff and believing it was a true commentary, because the rabbi had never indicated otherwise.

At the end, the rabbi described how Ruth was dying in prison: “And she thought, while she was dying” — blah, blah.

That was a shock to me. After the lesson was over, I went up to him and said, “How did they know what she thought when she was dying?”

He says, “Well, of course, in order to explain more vividly how the Jews suffered, we made up the story of Ruth. It wasn't a real individual.”

That was too much for me. I felt terribly deceived: I wanted the straight story — not fixed up by somebody else — so I could decide for myself what it meant. But it was difficult for me to argue with adults. All I could do was get tears in my eyes. I started to cry, I was so upset.

He said, “What's the matter?”

I tried to explain. “I've been listening to all these stories, and now I don't know, of all the things you told me, which were true, and which were not true! I don't know what to do with everything that I've learned!” I was trying to explain that I was losing everything at the moment, because I was no longer sure of the data, so to speak. Here I had been struggling to understand all these miracles, and now — well, it solved a lot of miracles, all right! But I was unhappy.

The rabbi said, “If it is so traumatic for you, why do you come to Sunday school?”

“Because my parents make me.”

I never talked to my parents about it, and I never found out whether the rabbi communicated with them or not, but my parents never made me go again. And it was just before I was supposed to get confirmed as a believer.

Anyway, that crisis resolved my difficulty rather rapidly, in favor of the theory that all the miracles were stories made up to help people understand things “more vividly,” even if they conflicted with natural phenomena. But I thought nature itself was so interesting that I didn't want it distorted like that. And so I gradually came to disbelieve the whole religion.

The adults who were in charge of young Feynman's education made a number of horrible mistakes, but the one I'd like to focus on is the one that seems to have bothered him the most: that he was presented with "real data" alongside "fixed up data" without being told which is which. 

Prior to the Ruth debacle, Feynman had been working with the reasonable assumption that everything he was taught by his rabbis represented the "straight story" - the raw facts from which he was to derive his understanding of Judaism. The discovery that he had been fed a mixture of truth and fabrication was too much to bear, and he ended up rejecting everything.

Artwork: Portent of Betrayal, by Daarken

Midrashic Betrayal

Unfortunately, I have witnessed many of my own students undergo an analogous religious disillusionment. Nearly all of my students have been raised on a midrash-heavy Torah diet. From as early as they can remember they were exposed to The Little Midrash Says, to children's songs and books featuring midrashic versions of the narrative portions of Chumash, and to years of Chumash education in which the pesukim are so interwoven with Rashi and midrashim that they can't tell which is which - or even worse, they don't realize that there is a "which is which" determination to be made.

Eventually, they reach a point where they stumble upon the truth: that not everything they were taught is actually contained in the Chumash. They realize that many of the events they believed were stated openly in the pesukim are actually midrashim. To give you an idea of the types of midrashim I'm talking about, here are some examples of midrashic "facts" which many (if not the majority) of my students believe are stated openly in Chumash:

• Yam Suf only parted when Nachshon ben Aminadav walked into the water until it was up to his nose.  
• Avraham was thrown into a fiery furnace by Nimrod and was miraculously saved. 
• Moshe Rabbeinu was 18 feet tall. 
• Rivka was three years old when she married Yitzchak. 
• The Torah was created before the world, and Hashem looked into the Torah to create the world. 
• Bas Paroh's arm became miraculously stretched out so that she could reach baby Moshe. 
• Yocheved was born "between the walls" on the way into Mitzrayim, and was 130 years old when she gave birth to Moshe. 
• The Avos kept Taryag mitzvos. 
• Yaakov's spirit was revived when he saw the wagons sent by Yosef, since the last sugya they learned together was Eglah Arufah. 
• The makah of tzfardea began with one giant frog which kept on splitting into more and more frogs every time the Egyptians hit it. 
• Eisav tried to bite Yaakov's neck - like a vampire - but Yaakov's neck turned into marble. 
• Moshe killed the Egyptian taskmaster by uttering Hashem's Name. 

When my students are informed that these midashic "facts" are not to be treated as factual facts, but are aggadic drashos which weren't necessarily intended to be taken literally, they feel a deep sense of betrayal, confusion, and trauma akin to what Richard Feynman felt when the rabbi told him the truth about Ruth.

Students often react to such "midrashic exposés" by exclaiming, "You mean those midrashim aren't true?!" Whenever they react this way my first instinct is to reassure them that even if these midrashic accounts do not reflect literal, historical fact, they still contain true and beneficial ideas and are worthy of study and analysis. But as soon as I say this, I realize that my words fail to ease their anxieties - just as Feynman wasn't satisfied when the rabbi told explained to him, “Well, of course, in order to explain more vividly how the Jews suffered, we made up the story of Ruth. It wasn't a real individual.” The students still feel that they were deceived by their parents and teachers, and the revelation of this "deception" throws into question everything they've been taught. I've even had students say things like, "Everything they taught us was false!" and "I don't know what to believe anymore!" Even though these are clearly overreactions, they do express the sentiment that the students feel.

(Parenthetically, RAZ/REF posted the following comment on one of my other blog posts:

Medrash creates a interconnected web of stories about people and events that underlie the chumash. Many medrashim of Chazal were said within the context of a shared framework of derived facts. 

Some medrashim are meant to be taken figuratively, and others literally; but often times, they are only referencing the shared medrashic world of Chazal and Rashi.

This explanation - rather, this type of explanation - might be sufficient for a student who is firmly grounded in the world of ideas and learning and can appreciate midrash as an innovative and effective pedagogical tool, but few high school students are on such a level. All they hear is, "Much of what you've been taught as Torah was made up." Le'havdil, if you tell an older child that Santa Claus isn't real, the revelation will probably confirm his suspicions, as it did in Feynman's case. And if he is mature enough, he might even be able to see the Santa farce as a genuine expression of parental affection. But if you tell a very young child that Santa isn't real, all you'll be doing is shattering a cherished belief, and no amount of explanation you provide will take away that grief.)

Artwork: Torchling, by RK Post

Two Mistakes

To my mind, there are really two mistakes at play here: (1) Jewish educators fail to differentiate between pshat and drash when they teach, and (2) they neglect to emphasize the important fact that midrashim are not Torah mi'Sinai in the same category as Torah she'bi'Chsav and Torah she'baal Peh, but reflect the opinions of the individual Sages who authored them.

I suspect that the first mistake often stems from ignorance on the part of the Jewish educators themselves. If you ask a limudei kodesh teacher to explain the difference between pshat and drash, you're likely to receive an answer along the lines of, "Pshat is the simple explanation of the pasuk, and drash is the deeper meaning." These definitions are incorrect and misleading. There is no need for me to reiterate the correct definitions here. I've written about them at length (with some overlap) in Pshat vs. Drash, Pshat vs. Drash II, and The True Meaning of Shivim Panim la'Torah.

The second mistake was first brought to my attention by Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch in his letter on aggadata, in which he rebukes a fellow educator for teaching the view that agados (i.e. homiletic midrashim) were given to Moshe at Sinai. Rav Hirsch writes (according to Yehoshua Leiman's translation, but with my emphasis in bold):

You are of the opinion that the agados were received [by Moshe from God] at Sinai, and that there is no distinction in this respect between them and the halachic statements that were transmitted. As far as my limited mind can grasp, this is a dangerous approach that poses a grave danger for the pupils who grow up believing this concept. For it very nearly opens the gates of heresy before them. 

What should these wretches do if they hear from their teachers today, "Aggadic statements were transmitted at Sinai just like the main body of Torah," and then they discover the declarations of the greatest of our early Talmudic commentators (Rishonim) upon whom all Jewry relies - in which one of them says, "Aggadic statements are not articles of faith but reasonable assumptions," and another says, "They were stated as exaggerations," or "as one man speaks to another, making statements that are not intended to be true but to entertain their listener for a while," or "They narrated what they had dreamed," or "Learn from [Agadah] only things that make sense," and so on? What are these wretches to do when they read these and similar declarations about statements they were taught by their teachers to believe came from Sinai with no difference between them and the main body of Torah? 

They will find themselves in great spiritual danger, ready to reject both equally and to accept only what their little brains comprehend. It would be better for them not to study Torah and mitzvos in depth and simply to keep mitzvos by rote rather than tread this dangerous path! Which is why it is my humble opinion that we are not to budge from the road of life shown us by our Rishonim when they made a major and intrinsic distinction between statements made as transmissions from God to Moshe and statements made as Aggadah. The former were transmitted from master to disciple, and their original source is a human ear hearing from the mouth of Moshe who heard at Sinai. The latter, though transmitted from master to disciple (for many aggadic statements are introduced by a disciple in the name of his master and sometimes even in the name of the master's master), have their origin in what the originating scholar stated as his own opinion in accord with his broad understanding of Tanach and the ways of the world, or as statements of mussar and fear of God to attract his audience to Torah and mitzvos.

Rav Hirsch wisely foresaw the feelings of disillusion that would be felt by little Richard Feynmans who were raised believing that midrashim are on par with Torah she'bi'Chsav and Torah she'baal Peh, and who discovered the truth. For this reason, he urged Jewish educators to make it clear to students from the get-go that although midrashim are extremely valuable and were written by the wisest men, they are not mi'pi ha'Gevurah (from the mouth of the Almighty). Ideally, all Jewish educators would familiarize themselves with the methodological principles of midrashic-usage as spelled out in the classical sources. 

If Jewish educators were disabused of these these two mistaken notions - namely, ignorance of the difference between pshat and drash, and of the nature of midrashic authority - and if they modified their teaching accordingly, then the scourge of midrashic betrayal might be halted. This needs to be done from an early age, when students are first exposed to Chumash. (How this would be done is the topic of another discussion. It all depends on how one plans to teach Chumash in general.)

Unfortunately, these two problems are rooted in a more fundamental (and more difficult-to-deal-with) problem: the dominance of the Rambam's "First Group."

Artwork: Blind Obedience, by Seb McKinnon

The First Group

In his introduction to Perek Chelek (Sanhedrin: Chapter 10), the Rambam divides Klal Yisrael into three different groups, based on how they relate to the midrashim of Chazal. Here is what the Rambam has to say about the First Group:

The first group includes the majority of people I have met and whose books I have seen and about whom I have heard. These people understand the words of Chazal according to their literal meanings without explaining them at all. To them, all impossible things are believed to be necessary. This is due to their stupidity in matters of science and their inexperience with other branches of knowledge. They lack sufficient perfection to be awakened to such wisdom on their own and they have found no one to awaken them. Consequently, they think that the only meaning in the wise words of Chazal is what they, themselves, understand – namely, the literal meaning. They think this, even though the literal meanings contain statements so bizarre that if you were to tell them to an average person, and certainly to an intelligent individual, he would be astounded and exclaim, “How is it possible that there should be anyone in the world who would imagine such things and think that they are true, much less find value in them?”

The unfortunate people in this group (their stupidity warrants mercy) exalt Chazal in their own minds, but in reality, they degrade them to the utmost extent without realizing it. As God Lives, this group destroys the beauty of Torah and darkens its brilliance. These people render the Torah of Hashem the opposite of its intended purpose, for Hashem said about the wisdom of His Torah, “[for it is your wisdom and discernment in the eyes of the nations, who shall hear all these decrees and who shall say,] ‘Surely a wise and discerning people is this great nation!’” (Devarim 4:6). But this group expound from the literal meanings of the words of Chazal notions which, if heard by the gentiles, would cause them to say, “Surely a stupid and disgraceful people is this pathetic nation!”

Many of the men who do this are public speakers who attempt to convey ideas to the people which they, themselves, do not understand. If only they would shut up, since they do not understand – “If only you would be utterly silent, that would be your wisdom” (Iyov 13:5). Or if only they had it in them to say, “We do not know what Chazal intended with these words, nor do we know how to interpret them.” Instead, they think they understand, and they set themselves up as authorities to convey to the people their own understanding - not what Chazal actually said; and they expound to the masses the midrashim in Berachos and Perek Chelek and the like, word for word according to their literal meanings.

I believe that the reason why the two problems I mentioned in the previous section have such a strong hold is because the majority of Jews belong to the First Group, as the Rambam observed even during his own era. I can't quite explain the causal connection, but it's definitely there. Someone who takes midrashim at face value and believes whatever Chazal say, no matter how impossible or implausible it sounds, will find it extremely difficult to regard these interpretations as "non-binding." They will find it nearly impossible to read Chumash in a manner at odds with the "authoritative" midrashic interpretations, and they certainly won't be able to apply Shmuel ha'Nagid's principle of "take from midrashim whatever makes sense to you, and leave the rest."

Artwork: Reborn Hope, by Warren Mahy

The Solution ...

I hope I have managed to present a somewhat coherent picture of the problem and some of its causes. If I am correct, then we at least have the beginnings of a solution. More than that I cannot presently say. I will continue to do my best to combat the three aforementioned errors, and I will do everything I can to diminish my students' feelings of betrayal. But if you have any more concrete ideas for how to solve this problem, I'm all ears.

I will conclude by sharing an amazing excerpt I found in the introduction to R' Avigdor Bonchek's What's Bothering Rashi?: Devarim. This excerpt is from the commentary of R' Yosef Kara (not to be confused with R' Yosef Karo), who, according to Rabbi Bonchek, "was a younger contemporary and personal friend of Rashi, and was certainly influenced by him." The following is Rabbi Bonchek's translation of R' Yosef Kara's commentary on I Shmuel 3:

You should be aware that when the Prophecy was written, it was written complete, with all its solutions, so that future generations should not stumble in it. It lacks nothing in its place [to be fully understood.] There is thus no need to offer proofs from other sources nor from the midrash. For the Torah is complete and complete it was given to us … but the purpose of the midrash of the Sages is to enhance Torah and glorify it. But he who does not know the Simple Meaning, peshuto shel mikra, and turns to the midrash is similar to one who is swept along by the torrents as the depths of the sea overwhelm him and he grasps on to anything that comes to his hand to save himself. But were he to have paid close attention to the word of God he would have investigated and searched for the pshat and he would have found [the solution to his problem]. So it says, “If you seek it like silver and like hidden treasure you search for it, then you will understand the fear of God and you shall find knowledge of God” (Mishlei 2:4).

May we and our students merit to understand the pshat of the dvar Hashem, thereby gaining access to the chochmah of midrash as it was intended to be learned.