Showing posts with label Ibn Ezra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ibn Ezra. Show all posts

Friday, April 15, 2022

Etzba Elohim: The Finger of WHICH God?

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Photo: Hubble image of a Bok globule in the Carina Nebula nicknamed "The Finger of God"





Etzba Elohim: The Finger of Which God?

The first miraculous sign that Moshe performed before Paroh was the transformation of Aharon’s staff into a snake. This sign was replicated by Paroh’s sorcerers (Shemos 7:11). The first (ibid. 7:22) and second (ibid. 8:3) of the Ten Plagues were also replicated by the sorcerers, but not the third: “The sorcerers did the same with their magic, to draw forth the lice, but they could not … The sorcerers said to Paroh, ‘It is the finger of God!’ Paroh’s heart was strong, and he did not heed them, as Hashem had spoken” (ibid. 8:15).

The phrase exclaimed by the sorcerers was “etzba Elohim.” This is commonly understood to be a concession on their part, and an acknowledgment that this was from Hashem. Rashi, for instance, interprets their words to mean: “this plague was not done with magic; it is from Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu” (Rashi on Shemos 8:15).

There is a glaring problem with this explanation: the Divine name used by the sorcerers is “Elohim,” but this whole time, Moshe has been speaking in the name of Hashem (i.e. the Tetragrammaton). Indeed, when Moshe first approached Paroh in the name of Hashem, Paroh responded: “Who is Hashem that I should heed His voice to send out Israel? I do not know Hashem, nor will I send out Israel” (ibid. 5:2). But during the second plague, Paroh was already sufficiently familiar with Hashem to the point where he said: “Entreat Hashem that He remove the tzfarde’a from me and my people, and I shall send out the people that they may bring offerings to Hashem” (ibid. 8:4). If the sorcerers intended to admit to Paroh that this was Hashem – the Deity Whom Paroh, himself, had just acknowledged by name in the last plague – why would they say “etzba Elohim? Why not “etzba Hashem?

In light of these difficulties, the Ibn Ezra (ibid. 8:15) concludes that “etzba Elohim” was not an acknowledgment on the sorcerers’ part that the plague was sent by Hashem. Rather:

They said to Paroh: “This plague did not come via Aharon on behalf of Israel to send [Israel] forth; rather, it was a plague of Elohim, in accordance with the arrangement of stars over the mazal (Zodiac sign) of Egypt.” I have already explained that Paroh did not deny the Creator, but only [the deity] “Hashem” that Moshe mentioned to him.

Malbim (ibid.) sides with the Ibn Ezra on this matter and explains the pesukim in an even more radical way:

When you look through all these parshiyos you will never find Paroh or the Egyptians calling Hashem by the name “Elokim” but only by the Tetragrammaton. The name “Elohim” was, for them, a reference to the celestial order or to their gods – not to the God of Israel Who was called by the Tetragrammaton. [The only time] they used the name [Elokim] is when they said, “go and offer sacrifices to your Elokim” (ibid. 8:21) – meaning “Elokei Yisrael” (the God of Israel), and not simply “Elohim.” Thus, it is clear that when they said, “etzba Elohim,” they were not referring to the God of Israel, [for if they were,] they should have said “etzba Hashem hu” or “etzba Elokei Yisrael.” Since this plague came without warning, they thought that it didn’t come from the God of Israel for the sake of Israel, because if so, Moshe would have been informed of it [by God] and he would have warned [Paroh] in advance. [Rather,] they said that this plague was sent to them by the God of Egypt, whom they referred to by the unqualified name “Elohim” (lit. “God”) … It is for this reason [that the pasuk subsequently says,] “Paroh’s heart was strong and he did not heed them,” because there was no need to be afraid anymore, for his fear had passed [in light of the sorcerers’ words].

According to this interpretation, there is no indication in the pesukim that any faction of Egypt – neither the sorcerers nor Paroh – acknowledged Hashem’s miraculous intervention until the fourth plague, when Hashem informed Paroh in advance: “I will make a distinction between My people and your people” (ibid. 8:19). It was only after the fourth plague that Paroh said: “Go, bring offerings to your God … entreat for me!” (ibid. 8:24). The fourth plague was Egypt’s first acknowledgment “that I am Hashem in the midst of the land” (ibid. 8:18).

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Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  For the full guide to all of my Torah content, click here

Friday, October 1, 2021

Does Hashem Actually Care What We Call Shemini Atzeres?

This week's Torah content has been sponsored by an anonymous donor, in memory of her grandmother, Golda Henya bat Devora a"h.

Disclaimer: I usually try to make my articles as accessible as possible by translating Hebrew and Aramic terms and providing background information. However, due to the halachic nature of this topic and the fact that it is a one-page article, I've decided not to provide such explanations. 

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Does Hashem Actually Care What We Call Shemini Atzeres?

I would describe myself as somewhat of a “nusach ha’tefilah geek.” I enjoy researching variations in different nuschaos and attempting to understand their causes and implications. For this reason, my chavrusa and I spent an inordinate amount of time this past Shemini Atzeres delving into the question of how one is supposed to refer to the name of the holiday when mentioning it in tefilah, birkas ha’mazon, and kiddush. Do we say “Yom Shemini Chag ha’Atzeres” (Tur / Shulchan Aruch), “Yom Shemini Atzeres” (Minhagim / Rama), “Yom Shemini Atzeres ha’Chag” (Rashal / Taz), “Yom Chag Shemini Atzeres” (Rambam), or something else?

Our learning prompted us to probe deeply into the very nature of Shemini Atzeres and its relationship to the Chag ha’Sukkos. We emerged with a clearer grasp of the multifaceted halachic character of this unique holiday than we previously had. From the standpoint of enhancing our Yom Tov, this was definitely a worthwhile sugya to take up. And yet, a little over an hour into our learning, I found myself bothered by what some might consider to be an irreverent question: Does Hashem actually care what I call Shemini Atzeres in my tefilah and berachos?

Let me be very clear about what I am asking and what I am not asking. I am not asking, “What's the point of davening at all? What does Hashem get out of our tefilos?” Hashem doesn’t get anything out of our tefilos. Nothing we do affects Him. Tefilah, like all mitzvos, is entirely for our own benefit. I am also not asking, “Why do variants in the nusach ha’tefilah matter?” The Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah included the greatest chachamim and neviim of their era; it would be both halachically irresponsible and intellectually foolish to deviate from the carefully crafted nusach they established in their unparalleled wisdom. Furthermore, I am not bothered by nusach variants which reflect different ideas, different interpretations, different sources, different emphases, or different minhagim.

My question here is far narrower and is based on an assumption. My assumption is that the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah did NOT dictate a specific wording for how we refer to Shemini Atzeres. Rather, they established the halacha of me’ein ha’meora (i.e. the requirement to mention the name of the Yom Tov on the day itself) and they also instructed us to single out Shemini Atzeres as separate from the Chag ha’Sukkos, but they didn’t formulate the precise manner in which we ought to identify the Yom Tov when implementing these halachos. If this assumption is true, then do all these hairsplitting arguments mentioned by the poskim actually matter? Why should we care which version we say if the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah didn’t care enough to tell us?

An answer to my question came from a pasuk we read on Shabbos Chol ha’Moed: “Do not be rash with your mouth, and do not let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God; for God is in heaven and you are on earth; therefore, let your words be few” (Koheles 5:1). The Ibn Ezra uses this as a springboard for a lengthy polemic against certain paytanim and the use of piyutim in davening. He opens with the following:

[Utter words before God] only if you understand their meaning … Know that God stands over you. He sees you and hears your words … Therefore, a person who prays is obligated to guard the openings of his mouth; he should contemplate in his heart that he is standing before the King of kings, Who holds the power to kill and to grant life.

If you knew you were going to make an appearance before a king who had the power over life and death, you would certainly make sure you spoke with the highest level of precision and understanding you could muster. To neglect to do so would indicate a lack of reverence, no matter how trifling the content of your speech. Thus, even if the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah didn’t establish a particular nusach for how we refer to Shemini Atzeres in our davening, this doesn’t exempt us from doing our due diligence to choose our words with as much understanding and precision as we can, thereby reinforcing our recognition that we are standing in awe and fear before the King of kings. It's not what we call Shemini Atzeres that matters. It's the fact that we care how we speak before God.
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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you

If you would like to sponsor an article, shiur, or podcast episode, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone. 

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  For the full guide to all of my Torah content, click here

Friday, May 15, 2020

Parashas Bechukosai: What About the Afterlife?

This week’s dvar Torah is a digest of the answers given by the Rishonim [1] to a classic question, along with an original answer based on my understanding of Sefer Koheles. 

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Artwork: Honor's Reward, by Izzy


Parashas Bechukosai: What About the Afterlife? 

The Question 

Parashas Bechukosai opens with a list of the blessings that Hashem promises to bestow “If you will follow My decrees and observe My commandments and perform them” (Vayikra 26:3). Among these blessings are: rain in its proper time, abundant produce, peace in the land, military success, flourishing of our population, and Divine favor. A similar list of blessings is stated in Parashas Ki Savo (Devarim 28:1-14). 

But there is a shocking omission from both lists of blessings: Olam ha’Ba (the “World to Come” or “afterlife”), the ultimate reward for a life of Torah and mitzvos. 

This is a famous problem. Why do the promises in the Written Torah focus exclusively on physical reward without ever explicitly mentioning the spiritual reward for the soul in the afterlife? In contrast, the Oral Torah and midrashic literature are replete with references to Olam ha’Ba, the most prominent of which is the Mishnah’s statement: “All of Israel has a portion in Olam ha’Ba” (Sanhedrim 10:1). 

This discrepancy between the Written and Oral Torahs has led modern academics to conclude that the entire notion of an afterlife was a Rabbinic invention, introduced long after the Biblical period. Those who wish to believe such conspiracy theories will not be convinced by any arguments, and I will not even attempt to address them here. Suffice it to say, our Mesorah (tradition) is clear on this point: belief in Olam ha’Ba has always been a unanimously accepted part of Judaism, despite the fact that it is not explicitly referenced in the 24 books of Tanach. 

But the question remains: Why does the Written Torah omit Olam ha’Ba from its lists of rewards? Why does it focus exclusively on the physical blessings? 

Seven Answers from the Rishonim 

The Abravanel [2] raises our question in his Chumash commentary and refers the reader to a book he wrote on the topic of Olam ha’Ba called Tzedek Olamim, in which he answers this question in full. Sadly, this book has been lost to history. Fortunately, the Abravanel provides a brief summary of six answers given to our question by his predecessors, followed by his own seventh answer. Here are my summaries of the Abravanel’s summaries: 

(1) Rambam [3]: The blessings and curses promised in the Torah are not the true reward and punishment for the mitzvos. The true reward is Olam ha’Ba, which is purely spiritual in nature. The reason why the Written Torah didn’t mention this reward is so that a person will follow Torah lishmah (for its own sake) – or, as the Abravanel puts it, “for the sake of perfection” – rather than for the sake of reward or out of fear of punishment. The role of the blessings and curses is to facilitate our pursuit of human perfection for its own sake: to the extent that we follow Hashem, He will provide us with physical goods and remove physical impediments from our lives so that we can continue in our pursuit of perfection without worrying about our material well-being; and to the extent that we neglect His will, He will withhold His blessings and we will be subject to these curses which will impede our pursuit of perfection. 

(2) Ibn Ezra [4]: The reward in Olam ha’Ba is a deep concept which is difficult for the average person to grasp. Since the Written Torah was given to the entire Jewish nation – not just the elite scholars – it was necessary to only mention the physical rewards and punishments, which can be understood by everyone. The sode (“secret” or esoteric concept) of Olam ha’Ba was relegated to the realm of the Oral Torah, thereby allowing every teacher to assess their student’s readiness for this concept on an individual basis, in accordance with that student’s level of development. 

(3) Ramban [5] / Sefer ha’Chinuch [6]: Belief in the eternality of the soul and its reward in Olam ha’Ba is a matter that can be rationally demonstrated by way of philosophical argument, and therefore did not need to be mentioned explicitly in the Torah. In contrast, the blessings and curses are miraculous [7] phenomena which operate according to the principles of hashgachah (Divine providence) known only through nevuah (prophecy), which is why it was necessary for the Torah to spell them out in detail. 

(4) Ran [8] / Kuzari [9]: The majority of the people, in ancient and modern times, denied the reality of hashgachah pratis (individual Divine providence). This denial was rampant among the Jews as well. Were the Torah to only promise spiritual reward and punishment after death, then these misguided Jews would take this as a confirmation of their deistic worldview. Therefore, it was necessary for the Torah to reinforce the truth of hasghacha pratis by going into great detail about the physical blessings and curses that will transpire as a result of our adherence to Torah. As for the reality of the spiritual reward and punishment for the soul in Olam ha’Ba: this can be inferred from the physical blessings and curses in Olam ha’Zeh (the physical world). Once we see that God provides us with physical rewards, which relate to the lower part of our nature (i.e. the body), we will realize that certainly He must provide us with spiritual reward, to compensate the higher part of our nature (i.e. the soul). 

(5) Saadia Gaon [10]: The ovdei avodah zarah (idolaters) engaged in various behaviors which they believed would bring them material success and protection from physical harm. When Hashem prohibited these idolatrous practices, He didn’t want His people to think that they would lose out on these material benefits. Therefore, He promised us as part of His covenant that by keeping the Torah, we would enjoy rewards in the physical world greater than anything that the ovdei avodah zarah hoped for from their false gods, since Hashem is the true God of heaven and earth, Who has the ability to bestow such blessings as He sees fit. There was no need to mention spiritual rewards, since the promises of physical rewards were only included in the covenant to refute the false promise of physical blessings by the ovdei avodah zarah. (Apparently, the ovdei avodah zarah of that era did not yearn for spiritual rewards, which is why there was no need to mention them in the covenant.) 

(6) Kuzari [11] / Ran [12]: The afterlife of the soul is explicitly mentioned in the blessings promised by the Torah in such statements as: “I [Hashem] will walk among you” (Vayikra 26:12), “I will place My dwelling among you” (ibid. 26:11), “I will be God unto you” (ibid. 26:12). [The Abravanel then goes on to explain how, if the nature of this spiritual reward is properly understood, then even the promises of physical blessings will serve as a proof that the souls of the righteous will survive after death. However, I’m not 100% sure that I follow every step of his explanation, and I would rather omit it from my summary than risk misrepresenting this line of reasoning.] 

(7) Abravanel [13]: It would not be proper to mention Olam ha’Ba in the context of Bechukosai and Ki Savo, since these blessings are for the nation as a whole rather than for individuals, whereas the spiritual rewards of the afterlife are for individuals and not for the nation as a whole. If the Torah had mentioned Olam ha’Ba in its lists of blessings, this might lead to misconceptions about the nature of the reward in the afterlife. For example, one might mistakenly conclude that one’s portion in Olam ha’Ba is determined or affected by the righteousness and wickedness of the majority of nation, as is the case with the physical blessings and curses. 

An Eighth Answer 

Shlomo ha'Melech says: “Give a portion to seven but also to eight” (Koheles 11:2). While the seven of the aforementioned answers all have their merits, I would like to offer an eighth answer – one which lines up with that of the Rambam, but with a twist. 

The Rambam [14] devotes the final chapter of Hilchos Teshuvah to a discussion of the motives for serving Hashem. He opens his discussion by defining two levels of Divine service: 
A person should not say, “I will do the mitzvos of the Torah and involve myself in its wisdom in order to receive all of the blessings that are written in it,” or “in order that I will merit life in Olam ha’Ba” and “I will separate myself from the transgressions about which the Torah warns us, in order to escape from the curses written in the Torah” or “so that I will not be cut off from Olam ha’Ba.”  
It is not proper to serve Hashem in this manner, for one who serves Hashem in this manner is called “oveid mi’yirah” (“one who serves out of fear”). This is neither a virtue of the prophets nor of the wise. The only ones who should serve Hashem in this manner are the ignoramuses, the women, and the children, whom we train to serve out of fear until their minds develop and they serve out of love.  
An “oveid me’ahavah” (“one who serves out of love”) involves himself in Torah and mitzvos and walks on the paths of wisdom not because of anything in the world, neither out of fear of the bad nor out of a desire to inherit the good. Rather, he does what is true because it is true, and the good will come of its own accord … 
It is easy to understand why doing mitzvos in order to receive the blessings promised by the Torah is considered to be an inferior motive, but why should this apply to one whose service is motivated by the prospect of reward in Olam ha’Ba? Didn’t the Rambam write earlier [15] that Olam ha’Ba is the greatest good? 
The [ultimate] goodness which is hidden away for tzadikim is Olam ha’Ba. This is the life which has no death with it, and the good which has no bad. This is what is written in the Torah, “so that it will be good for you, and you will prolong your days” (Devarim 22:7). From the Oral Torah we learn: “so that it will be good for you” [refers] to the world which is entirely good, and “you will prolong your days” [refers] to the world which is entirely long – and this is Olam ha’Ba
If Olam ha’Ba is the ultimate good, why shouldn’t it motivate our observance of mitzvos? 

The answer lies in the fact that it is impossible for us to comprehend the true nature of the reward in Olam ha’Ba. The Rambam [16] introduces this difficulty in his introduction to Perek Chelek. He writes: 
Know that just as a blind man cannot experience colors, nor can a deaf man experience sounds, nor can a eunuch [experience] sexual desire, so too, physical bodies cannot experience spiritual enjoyments. And just as a fish does not recognize the element of fire because it (i.e. the fish) is immersed in its opposite, so too, one cannot know the enjoyments of the spiritual world while one is in this physical world, for we have no enjoyment other than bodily enjoyments alone – [such as] the experiences of our senses in eating, drinking, and sex – and everything outside of these [physical enjoyments] is not experienced by us, nor can we recognize it, nor can we apprehend it in our initial analysis, but only after much investigation. This is because we are in a physical world and cannot apprehend anything other than its enjoyments, but enjoyments of the soul are constant and unceasing, and there is no relationship at all whatsoever between these and those. 
Similarly, the Rambam [17] writes in the Mishneh Torah: 
Regarding the great good which the soul will enjoy in Olam ha’Ba: there is no way in Olam ha’Zeh to comprehend it or know it, because we only know in Olam ha’Zeh the good of the body, and that is what we desire; but that good [in Olam ha’Ba] is exceedingly great, and there is no comparison among the goods of Olam ha’Zeh except by way of analogy. 
Indeed, a few paragraphs earlier the Rambam condemns those who harbor foolish notions about the nature of the reward in Olam ha’Ba, writing: 
Maybe this good will seem trivial in your eyes, and you’ll imagine that the only reward for mitzvos and for being a person who is perfected in the ways of truth is to eat and drink good foods, have relations with beautiful figures, wear garments made of silk and woven fabrics, dwell in houses of marble, and use gold and silver utensils and other things like this – as is imagined by the foolish and idiotic Arabs who are steeped in lechery.

But the wise and those who possess knowledge know that all of these things are fantasy and nothingness, and there is no hope in them. They are only considered to be a great good for us in Olam ha’Zeh because we have bodies, and all of these things are bodily needs, and the soul only desires them and favors them because they are bodily needs, in order that its desires will be fulfilled and its health maintained. And when there is no body, all of these things will be found to be pointless. 
Having established all of these premises, I would like to propose my own answer to our original question: Why do the promises in the Written Torah focus exclusively on physical reward without ever explicitly mentioning the spiritual reward for the soul in the afterlife? Because since it is absolutely impossible to conceive of the spiritual enjoyments of Olam ha’Ba, then if we were to be motivated by the promise of such a reward, we would – by definition – be chasing a fantasy. In other words, whatever notion of Olam ha’Ba is driving our motivation must, of necessity, be false, since it is impossible for a physical being to conceive of non-physical enjoyments. 

It is for this reason that the Torah promises physical blessings to those who obey Hashem. The individual whose avodah (Divine service) is motivated by these physical blessings and the individual whose avodah is motivated by Olam ha’Ba are both engaged in avodah she’lo lishmah (not for its own sake), but the former individual is on a higher level because at least he’s being motivated by a reality, whereas the latter is being motivated by a fantasy. 

Make no mistake: Olam ha’Ba itself is a reality, but the version of Olam ha’Ba as a motivator is a fantasy. The vision of Olam ha’Ba in our minds and imaginations, to which our psyche attaches value, and which acts as the proverbial carrot (paired with the proverbial stick) – that notion of Olam ha’Ba has no basis in reality whatsoever. In contrast, “rains in their proper time,” “eating bread in satiety,” “peace in the land” and all of the other physical blessings exist as motivators in our imaginations which do correspond to their physical reality. 

This sheds light on the Divine wisdom in relegating Olam ha’Ba to the Oral Torah. In Hashem’s “Plan A” (so to speak), students would not be introduced to the concept of Olam ha’Ba until they were developmentally ready, as the Rambam [18] describes: 
Therefore, when we teach the children, women, and general populace of laymen, we should only teach them to serve out of fear and in order to receive reward, until their minds mature and they gain additional wisdom; we should reveal this secret to them bit by bit, and accustom them to this concept with pleasantness, until they apprehend it and know it and serve out of love. 
Parents and teachers would motivate their children and students to serve Hashem for the she’lo lishmah motive of obtaining the blessings mentioned in the Written Torah. As they reached the requisite level of psychological and intellectual maturity, they would be introduced to the concept of Olam ha’Ba, which would click into its proper intellectual place as a truth about reality, rather than as a motivator for avodah. In this manner, they would bypass the stage of being motivated by a fantasy notion of Olam ha’Ba altogether. 

Ultimately, we cannot know why Hashem chose not to mention Olam ha’Ba explicitly in His lists of rewards, but these eight theories allow us to appreciate the fact that this was done with reason, and with wisdom. 


[1] This is a general remark, but I might as well mention it here. The line between Rishonim and Achronim is a matter of debate. Some distinguish between the two periods based on dates (e.g. the Rishonim are those who wrote in the 11th century to the 15th century, and the Achronim are post-15th century) or by specifying a cutoff point (e.g. all commentators who came before the composition of the Shulchan Aruch were Rishonim, and all who came after are Achronim). Personally, I don’t like either of these approaches. I prefer to define the two groups by their time period AND their relationship to their predecessors and/or their style. For example, I classify the Abravanel (1437 – 1508) as a Rishon because he argues with his predecessors as a contemporary, rather than a disciple. I classify the Sforno (1475 – 1550) as a Rishon because of his commentary’s style and commentary. 
[2] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 26:3 
[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Introduction to Perek Chelek (Sanhedrin 10:1); Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah Chapter 9 
[4] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Devarim 32:39; it should be noted that the Ibn Ezra’s answer to this question parallels his answer to R’ Yehuda ha’Levi’s question on the first of the Aseres ha’Dibros: Why does Hashem introduce Himself to the Jewish people by saying “Who took you out from the land of Egypt” instead of “Who created the heavens and the earth”? See the Ibn Ezra’s long commentary on Shemos 20:2. 
[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 18:29 
[6] Sefer ha’Chinuch: Introduction. The Abravanel doesn’t actually quote the Sefer ha’Chinuch with reference to this view, but since it was the first place I encountered it in my own learning, and since the Sefer ha’Chinuch expands upon this view even more than the Ramban, I decided to attribute this view to him in my list. Moreover, the Abravanel attributes this view to “Rabbeinu Bachya ha’Zaken, as mentioned by the Ibn Ezra” but according to the Warsaw manuscript and H. Norman Strickman, the name mentioned by the Ibn Ezra is actually “Rabbeinu Hai.” This possible misattribution is yet another reason why I opted to label this under the Sefer ha’Chinuch’s name. 
[7] According to the Ramban, as the Abravanel himself points out. 
[8] Rabbeinu Nissim ben Reuven, Drashos ha’Ran #1 
[9] Rabbeinu Yehuda ha’Levi (Kuzari) 1:104-117 
[10] Rabbeinu Saadia Gaon, Emunos v’Deos 9:2 
[11] Rabbeinu Yehuda ha’Levi 1:115 
[12] Rabbeinu Nissim ben Reuven, Drashos ha’Ran, end of #3 
[13] The Abravanel credits the Ramban for this approach, based on the latter’s Commentary on Sefer Devarim 29:20; he also cites the Sefer ha’Ikkarim 4:40, chastising him for citing this answer in his own name rather than in the name of the Ramban. 
[14] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah 10:1-2 
[15] ibid. 8:1 
[16] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Introduction to Perek Chelek (Sanhedrin 10:1) 
[17] ibid. Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah Chapter 8:6 
[18] Ibid. 10:5

Tuesday, June 4, 2019

Is a Rasha "Evil"?

Originally published in February of 2012. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.


Is a Rasha "Evil"?

Disclaimer: When I began my original blog in 2007, I intended it to be a venue not only to present "finished" ideas, but to explore developing ideas. Over time I became pressured into only posting ideas I had fully polished. Ultimately, this pressure deterred me from blogging altogether. In an attempt to rekindle the spirit of that blog, I am going to try to be more forthcoming in writing about ideas that I am currently in the process of exploring. Please bear that in mind as you read this post. 

If I asked you to translate the root R.SH.A' (ר.ש.ע) you'd probably translate it as "evil" or "wicked." Likewise, if I asked you translate the word rasha, you'd probably translate it as "evildoer" or "wicked person" something like that. I know I would.

Well, it's time to open our minds to a new and radical definition of "rasha."

The first pasuk of the first chapter of Tehilim states: 

תהלים א:א
אַשְׁרֵי הָאִישׁ אֲשֶׁר לֹא הָלַךְ בַּעֲצַת רְשָׁעִים וּבְדֶרֶךְ חַטָּאִים לֹא עָמָד וּבְמוֹשַׁב לֵצִים לֹא יָשָׁב:

Tehilim 1:1
Happy is the man who does not follow the advice of resha'im (wicked), and who does not stand on the path of chatoim (sinners), and does not sit in a session of leitzim (scoffers).


Ibn Ezra notes that there is a machlokess (disagreement) among the commentaries as to the "badness order" of the three types of people mentioned in the pasuk
Our Early Sages of blessed memory said that "standing on the path of chatoim" is a greater transgression than "following the advice of resha'im" and that "sitting in the session of leitzim" is worse than either "standing on the path of chatoim" or "following [the advice of resha'im]." Now if this is so, then leitzim are worse than chatoim. Rabbi Moshe ha'Kohen says the reverse (i.e. the pasuk begins with the most severe offense and concludes with the least severe). 
Ibn Ezra sides with the Sages. On the surface, this presents us with a difficulty: How can rasha be the least bad out of the three? Doesn't the term "rasha" refer to an "evil" person, and isn't "evil" the "baddest" out of all types of badness?

Ibn Ezra answers this question by deploying his bomb of a definition. He writes:
According to my opinion, the word "resha'im" refers to people who are in a constant state of flux, [1] in the sense of: "the reshaim are like the troubled sea, incapable of rest" (Yeshayahu 57:20). Likewise, "wherever he turned himself, he unsettled them (ירשיע)" (Shmuel I 14:47) and "He grants quietude, and who can agitate (ירשיע)?" (Iyov 34:29). For this reason it says "follow" in conjunction with resha'im, referring to a person who is seduced to follow the counsel of the rasha to a path he doesn't know.
Allow me to reiterate that revolutionary definition. According to Ibn Ezra, "rasha" does not mean "evil" but rather "troubled," "unsettled," "agitated," "restless," and "inconsistent" - a definition which he derives this from the etymology of the root R.SH.A'. And remember, if there's one Rishon whose etymological credentials are beyond reproach and whose lexical convictions are strong, it's the Ibn Ezra.

After stumbling upon this definition I wondered: "Maybe Ibn Ezra is only defining rasha this way in this context. Perhaps he uses a more traditional definition elsewhere?" In an effort to find the answer I conducted a search using the Bar-Ilan Responsa database to see if he elaborates on this definition elsewhere. I searched for all instances of the shoresh R.SH.A' in the commentaries of the Ibn Ezra and scanned through all 200+ of them to see all the places where Ibn Ezra explicitly defines the meaning of the term, as he does in Tehilim. [1] I found only three instances in which he gives somewhat of an explicit definition, as he does here:
  • "There the resha'im cease from agitation" (Iyov 3:16). Ibn Ezra, commenting on the phrase "there the resha'im," explains that this refers to "those who are restless (הם המתנועעים)." 
  • "Do not be overly rasha (אל תרשיע הרבה) nor be a fool. Why die before your time?" (Koheles 7:17). Ibn Ezra explains: "Since too much resha brings a person into danger, he says, 'Why die before your time?' Know that this rish'us (רשעות) refers to involvement in worldly matters. He says: Be involved in what is necessary for you, and do not be a fool at all, since foolishness leads to premature death." 
  • "Man is powerless over the spirit - to restrain the spirit; nor is there authority over the day of death; nor discharge in war; and resha cannot save the wrongdoer" (ibid. 8:8). Ibn Ezra explains: "The meaning of 'resha' is 'abundance of restlessness and conflict' (רוב התנועה והניצוח)." 
Unfortunately, Ibn Ezra doesn't give us much to work with. Here are the qualities we have seen so far from the Ibn Ezra's comments and from the pesukim themselves:
  1. the rasha is like the stormy sea, incapable of tranquility (Ibn Ezra on Tehilim 1:1, Yeshayahu 57:20, and Iyov 3:16)
  2. the rasha does not follow a consistent pattern of behavior (Ibn Ezra on Tehilim 1:1)
  3. the rasha's turmoil is related to his preoccupation with worldly matters - specifically, the fact that he is not content with meeting his needs in moderation (Ibn Ezra on Koheles 7:17)
  4. the rasha is fraught with restlessness and conflict (Ibn Ezra on Koheles 8:8)
  5. the rasha is like chaff, driven away by a gust of wind (rest of Tehilim 1)
Based on these qualities, I would like to propose a hypothesis: according to the Ibn Ezra, "rasha" refers to a person whose actions are primarily determined by his emotional reactions to the circumstances in which he finds himself. 

Yes, I am aware that most people can be described this way - but that's a question on Ibn Ezra, not on me. And yes, I am aware that this broadens the definition of the term "rasha" way beyond the conventional usage - but that, too, is a question on the Ibn Ezra. Besides, neither of these questions poses an actual problem with the Ibn Ezra's definition. They just underscore the fact that this idea is not in line with our prior ideas about reshaim.

I'll end this post by reiterating what I said in my disclaimer. This post is intended to be a first step - not an authoritative proclamation of the Ibn Ezra's view. In order to fully understand the Ibn Ezra's definition of rasha, we would need to learn through each of the 200+ instances in depth and in context. Nevertheless, we have to start somewhere, and the Ibn Ezra's definition in our pasuk in Tehilim is a good lead, especially when combined with the three aforementioned sources in which the Ibn Ezra reiterates a similar definition. Whether this concept of rasha can be developed further remains to be seen.

[1] lit. "those who do not persist in a consistent mode [of behavior]." I've chosen to go with H. Norman Strickman's translation, since I think it better captures the connotation of the Ibn Ezra's definition.
[2] Note that this post was written in 2012. When editing it for republication I didn't go back and search a second time, and although it's possible that newer sources were added, I'm going to rely on my original search for now.

Friday, July 27, 2018

Parashas Vaeschanan: Methodology Battle - Ibn Ezra vs. Malbim

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Artwork: Battle of Wits, by Edward Beard Jr.
Also, depiction of Ibn Ezra vs. the Malbim


Parashas Vaeschanan: Methodology Battle - Ibn Ezra vs. Malbim

The Battleground

In Parashas Vaeschanan, Moshe Rabbeinu reviews the Aseres ha'Devarim (Decalogue) for the generation that will enter the Land after his passing. The Ibn Ezra, in his introduction to the Torah's original presentation of the Aseres ha'Devarim in Parashas Yisro, acknowledges the glaring problem which confronts any student who carefully reads both parshiyos: the two versions of the Aseres ha'Devarim contain differences in wording! Some of these differences are major, such as:
Shemos 20:8-11 (Yisro)Remember the Shabbos day to sanctify it. Six days shall you work and accomplish all of your work; but the seventh day is Shabbos to Hashem, your God; you shall not do any work - you, your son, your daughter, your slave, your maidservant, your animal, and your convert within your gates - for in six days Hashem made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them, and He rested on the seventh day. Therefore, Hashem blessed the Shabbos day and sanctified it. 

Devarim 5:12-15 (Vaeschanan)Safeguard the Shabbos day to sanctify it, as Hashem, your God, has commanded you. Six days shall you do labor and do all of your work; but the seventh day is Shabbos to Hashem, your God; you shall not do any work - you, your son, your daughter, your slave, your maidservant, your ox, your donkey, and your every animal, and your convert within your gates, in order that your slave and your maidservant may rest like you. And you shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and Hashem, your God, has taken you out from there with a strong hand and an outstretched arm; therefore, Hashem, your God, has commanded you to make the Shabbos day.
In other cases, the differences are more subtle, such as:
Shemos 20:13: You shall not murder; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness against your fellow. 
Devarim 5:17You shall not murder; and you shall not commit adultery; and you shall not steal; and you shall not bear vain witness against your fellow.
Also subtle:
Shemos 20:14You shall not covet your fellow's house; you shall not covet your fellow's wife, his manservant, his maidservant, his ox, his donkey, nor anything that belongs to your fellow. 
Devarim 5:18And you shall not covet your fellow's wife; you shall not desire your fellow's house, his field, his manservant, his maidservant, his ox, his donkey, nor anything that belongs to your fellow.
The Ibn Ezra notes the difficulties raised by these changes and addresses them. If you are interested in his answers, see his lengthy treatise at the beginning of Shemos Chapter 20. 

I'm not going to present any answers of any meforshim (commentators) to these difficulties in this post. Instead, I'd like to focus on a major methodological divide between the meforshim. I've wanted to write about this for a while, and since the Ibn Ezra states his shitah (position) in his introduction to the Aseres ha'Devarim, I decided to use this blog post as a springboard for the discussion.

Ibn Ezra's View: Meanings Matter Most

The Ibn Ezra [1] introduces his shitah prior to explaining the discrepancies between the Aseres ha'Devarim in Yisro and Vaeschanan:
As a general rule, the masters of the Holy Language will sometimes explain their words very clearly, and other times they will say what is necessary in a few concise words from which the listener can derive their meaning. Know that words are like bodies and meanings are like souls, and the body is like a vessel for the soul. Therefore, the general rule of all chachamim (wise men) in any language is to preserve the meanings without any concern about a change of words, so long as the meanings remain the same
In other words (ha! get it?), the words are merely the vessels for conveying meaning, and as long as the meaning is preserved, it doesn't matter if the words change. Therefore, when learning Tanach - even the text of the Torah itself - one need not obsess over the nuanced variations in wording which occur when the Torah repeats material. Instead, just focus on getting the main idea, and don't worry be nitpicky about the words.   

The Ibn Ezra then provides some examples:
Hashem said to Kayin: "You are cursed from the ground ... When you will work the ground, it will no longer give forth its strength to you. You shall become a vagrant and a wanderer upon the earth" (Bereishis 4:11-12). Kayin replied: "Behold! You have driven me out this day from upon the face of the ground!" (ibid. 4:14). Now who is so mindless as to think that the meaning [of these two descriptions of Kayin's punishment] isn't the same on account of the change in words! 
Behold! Eliezer said: "Let me sip, if you please, [a little water from your jug]" (ibid. 24:17). However, he [subsequently] quoted himself as saying: "Please give me a drink" (ibid. 24:45). 
Moshe said: "the firstborn of the captive that was in the dungeon" (Shemos 12:29). However, it is written earlier: "the firstborn of the maidservant that is behind the mill" (ibid. 11:5).  
In Devarim, Moshe quoted the prayer which he offered on behalf of Israel because of the Golden Calf (Devarim 9:26-29). Now to the person who lacks a mind capable of understanding, this prayer appears totally different from the one recorded in the Torah portion Ki Sisa (Shemos 32:11-14). 
The general rule is: any change in the wording - such as in the dreams of Paroh (Bereishis 41:1-17, 17-24) and Nevuchadnetzar (Daniel 4), and many other things - you will find the meaning to be the same, even if the words are different
The Ibn Ezra goes on to mention other types of cases which fall into this category. Sometimes a word will be lengthened or shortened, or a prefix will be added or taken away, or the spelling of the word will change - all without changing the meaning. 

On the basis of this approach, the Ibn Ezra explains - or brushes away - the differences between the two versions of the Aseres ha'Devarim. According to him, even Moshe Rabbeinu didn't care about changing Hashem's wording in the original Aseres ha'Devarim, so long as he successfully conveyed the Divine intent. (The Ibn Ezra does, however, admit that the radically different presentations of Shabbos requires an actual explanation.)


This approach may seem radical to a student who was raised hearing the standard premise that "there are no extra words in the Torah" and "every letter has a meaning." The Ramban takes the Ibn Ezra to task for his answer here. Apparently, the Maharal devoted an entire chapter of his book, Tiferes Yisrael (chapter 43), to challenging the Ibn Ezra's view. 

On the surface it might seem that Ibn Ezra lacks the reverence for the Torah's use of hebrew. However, one must remember that the Ibn Ezra is considered to be one of the leading authorities in the Hebrew language among the Rishonim, and was an ardent defender of a strictly textual approach to Biblical exegesis. In his introduction to his Torah commentary, [2] he characterizes his approach to Scriptural interpretation as "the grammatical approach," which focuses on the rules of the Hebrew language and the definitions of its words:
The fifth method [of Torah interpretation] is the one upon which I will base my commentary. It appears to me to be correct in the presence of God whom alone I fear. I will not show favoritism to anyone when it comes to interpreting the Torah. I will, to the utmost of my ability, try to understand grammatically every word and then to do my best to explain it. Every word whose meaning the reader desires to know will be found explained the first time the word is encountered. For example, the meaning of "shamayim" will be given in the first verse of Bereishis. This will apply to all terms.
When Ibn Ezra made the statement about "masters of the language" playing fast and loose with their wording, he was speaking as a "master of the language." 

We'll return to the Ibn Ezra's shitah in a moment. For now, let's look at his strongest opposition.

Malbim's View: Words Matter Most


It is safe to say that the Malbim was one of the most creative meforshim in recent times. Like the Ibn Ezra, the Malbim wrote a commentary on almost all of Nach which is grounded in a thorough understanding of the Hebrew language. Unlike the Ibn Ezra, the Malbim is not keen on the idea of glossing over any linguistic nuances in the Torah's repetition of material. Indeed, he holds that the Torah contains no repetitions or synonyms or anything extra whatsoever. 

The clearest summary of the Malbim's approach that I know of can be found in the introduction to his commentary on Sefer Yeshayahu. The Malbim introduces his own method by articulating its three foundational principles:
My commentary rests upon three central pillars: 
(1) Nowhere in the eloquent speech [4] of the neviim is there to be found any repetition of the same idea in different words, nor is there a repetition of ideas, statements, or allegories, nor are there two sentences with the same content, nor are there two mashalim (metaphors) with the same nimshal (interpretation), nor are there even two repeated words.

(2) Nowhere in the eloquent speech of the neviim – neither in their simple nor compound sentences – is there to be found words or verbs which are placed by chance without a specific intent, to the extent that all words, nouns, and verbs which constitute every sentence – not only is it necessary that they occur in that sentence, but it would not have been possible for a divine messenger to use another word in its place, for all of the words in the divine eloquent speech have been weighed on the scales of wisdom and knowledge, evaluated, preserved, counted, and recounted by the metric of Supreme Wisdom which alone is sublime enough to utter it.

(3) Nowhere in the eloquent speech of the neviim is there to be found a husk without content, a body without a soul, a garment without a wearer, a statement devoid of sublime thought, a statement in which understanding doesn’t dwell – for the living God resides in all statements of the living God, with the breath of life in their nostrils, the spirit of the Dreaded, Mighty, Glorious, and Awesome One.
In short, the Malbim maintains that every sentence, every word, and every nuance in the text of Tanach was chosen to convey a specific meaning. There is no repetition, there are no textual features which are there for purely stylistic reasons, and there is no room for multiple possibilities of what the pesukim could have said. According to the Malbim, every single pasuk had to say exactly what it said, in exactly the manner it said it - otherwise, the meaning would be lost. 

Perhaps the most salient feature of the Malbim's approach is his firm instance that there are no true synonyms in Hebrew. Every word means something different. Any two terms which appear to have the same meaning will, upon careful study of their usage throughout Tanach, reveal that they have different definitions. The Malbim's commentary on Tanach is comprised of two parts. One part of his commentary is a "beur ha'devarim" (commentary on the meaning of the pesukim, in context), and the other part is a "beur ha'milos" (glossary of terms). Even a casual glance through the Malbim's beur ha'milos will reveal that his favorite phrase is: "yesh hevdel bein ____ u'bein ____" (there is a difference between [this word] and [this synonym]), which he uses hundreds of times throughout his commentary to elucidate the definitions of these so-called "synonyms."

The Malbim writes that he labored intensively to figure out the definition of each and every Hebrew word in based on exhaustive research. He criticizes other chachamim who have arrived at speculative distinctions between these apparent synonyms by inferring universal definitions from isolated cases, instead of conducting a thorough analysis of every instance of every word in all of Tanach, as he did:
Before I approached this precious work – the holy work of explaining and elucidating the books of Hashem – I first set out to investigate, to explore, and to search for the definitions of the words and verbs that occur in the holy Scriptures until their essential definitions became clear to me with a clear knowledge … 
This path has been followed by all of the later chachamim, who have expounded and clarified the synonyms, and have been satisfied with themselves if they found one distinction in the entire sentence, and thought that the other different words in the two sentences are for beautifying the poetic speech [of the navi] or came about by happenstance; consequently, even the universal principles which [these chachamim] have produced and the distinctions they have made, they are unable to substantiate with proofs, since their words are nothing but guesswork rooted in imagination
I, however, have set a law not to be overstepped, for no words have entered into the counsel of Hashem by way of chance, but only with intelligent choice; therefore, the labor which I have taken upon myself is great and difficult, and I have surpassed the work of all others who have endeavored in this manner …
Here the Malbim warns those who attempt to emulate his approach. Unless one is prepared to undertake a complete survey of Biblical Hebrew, one risks falling into "guesswork rooted in imagination," which will inevitably lead to error and falsehood.

The Malbim also makes it clear that he was not relying on anyone else in developing his approach:
You should also know that even though I have been preceded by many chachamim who have distinguished between synonyms – some of whose books I own, such as Sefer Gan Naul and Sefer Yerios Shelomo – despite all of this, I have not relied upon the words of any man, but I have tested everything myself, whether all pesukim can be explained based on the path that I, myself, have paved. Therefore, [my work] has nothing to do with that of another person: I have neither built nor destroyed the words of anyone other than myself, because I analyzed every rule and universal principle myself and committed my own intuition to writing. And if you find that someone else established a universal principle which accords with my own statement, this is an indicator that anyone who possess intelligence will arrive at the same path regarding any matter which is simple and upright.
Suffice it to say, the Malbim would not - and does not - accept the Ibn Ezra's assertion that "the general rule of all chachamim in any language is to preserve the meanings without any concern about a change of words, so long as the meanings remain the same." The Malbim would certainly never accept the Ibn Ezra's general approach to explaining the differences in the Torah's two statements of the Aseres ha'Devarim. If Moshe reversed "you shall not covet your neighbor's wife" and "you shall not covet your neighbor's house" in his restatement, there must be a reason. If the Torah says "eidus sheker" (false testimony) in Yisro but "eidus shav" (vain testimony) in Vaeschanan, there must be a reason. The same goes for all other changes in wording and textual nuances throughout all of Tanach.


"Team Ibn Ezra" 

I view the Ibn Ezra and Malbim as existing along a spectrum, each at one end. The other meforshim throughout the ages - both Rishonim (medieval) and Achronim (post-medieval) - tend to fall on one side of the spectrum or another in this battle of methodology. 

I would argue that most of the classical Rishonim fall closer to the Ibn Ezra's side in their commentaries. This is indicated by their decision not to take up the types of questions about textual nuances which are the focus of the Malbim's commentary. If you compare the commentary of the Malbim side by side with the traditional meforshim, you'll find that many of the linguistic questions which bother him are completely ignored by them. This suggests that they had a different approach.

Granted, I am aware that absence of evidence doesn't always equal evidence of absence. One could argue that they did hold like the Malbim, but assumed that their audience was familiar enough with Hebrew that such questions didn't need to be addressed in their commentaries. One could also argue that they held like the Malbim, but didn't prioritize this type of explanation in their commentaries for some unstated reason. Personally, I don't buy such arguments. In the Malbim's introduction to Sefer Yeshayahu, he makes it pretty clear that the approach in his commentary is unprecedented among the commentators. That, combined with the drastically different content in their commentaries, has me convinced that most classical commentators did not share the Malbim's views on Biblical interpretation.

Moreover, we see a number of mainstream meforshim take stances which directly oppose the  three pillars of the Malbim's method. For example, when confronted with synonyms or repetitions in the pesukim, many meforshim will simply say: "kafal ha'davar b'milos shonos" (the pasuk repeated the same statement in different words) or "kafal ha'inyan b'milos shonos" (the pasuk repeated the same idea in different words). One of my favorite meforshim on Nach, the Radak, uses these phrases over 200 times in his Nach commentary. Metzudas David makes recourse to "kafal ha'davar" over 400 times. The Malbim wouldn't accept this even once.

Similarly, when the classical meforshim explain obscure words in the pesukim, they'll do so by making reference to more common synonyms - and they will do so without explaining the differences, suggesting that they believe the terms to be genuinely synonymous, and not just apparently so. In contrast, the Malbim will point out a synonym, and will then go on to explain how the two terms have subtly different meanings. To me this is a clear indication of a divergence in methodology. It would be a stretch to say that these other meforshim hold that there are no synonyms or repetitions in Tanach, but simultaneously feel so comfortable saying "the pasuk is repeating the same idea" or "this word means basically the same thing as this word." If they hold that the terms are different, they should explain how. And if, like the Malbim, they held that this difference in meaning is critical for understanding the main idea of the pasuk, they would be negligent not to give a full explanation.

Another category of opposition to the Malbim's approach can be seen in the classical commentators' treatment of the numerous allegories, parables and instances of figurative speech in Nach. The Malbim explicitly criticized chachamim who explain extra words and  phrases by claiming that these words serve only "in order to beautify the poetic speech" or that "they came about by happenstance," and serve no real purpose. And yet we find many classical meforshim who take precisely this approach. The Rambam [5] goes so far as to make this into an interpretive rule:
Know that the prophetic parables are of two kinds. In some of these parables each word has a meaning, while others the parable as a whole indicates the whole of the intended meaning. In such a parable very many words are to be found, not every one of which adds to the intended meaning. They serve rather to embellish the parable and to render it more coherent or to conceal further the intended meaning; hence, the speech proceeds in such a way as to accord with everything required by the parable's external meaning.
An example of the first kind of prophetic parable is the following text: "And behold - a ladder set up on the earth etc." (Bereishis 28:12-13). In this text, the word "ladder" indicates one subject; the words "set up on the earth" indicate a second subject; the words "and the top of it reached to the heaven" indicate a third subject; the words "and behold the angels of God" indicate a fourth subject; the word "ascending" indicates a fifth subject; the words "and descending" indicate a sixth subject; and the words "and behold - Hashem stood above it" indicate a seventh subject. Thus, every word occurring in this parable refers to an additional subject in the complex of subjects represented by the parable as a whole." 
An example of the second kind of prophetic parable is the following text: For I have looked out from the window of my house through my lattice, and I saw among the fools, I discerned among the youths, a lad who lacked [an understanding] heart passing through the marketplace near her corner, and he strode toward her house, in the twilight, as daylight wanes, in the blackness of night and darkness. Then behold, a woman approached him, bedecked as a harlot and with siege in [her] heart. She coos and she entices, her feet do not dwell at home. Sometimes in the courtyard, sometimes in the streets, she lurks at every corner. She seized him and kissed him; she thrust forth her face and said to him: "I had vowed to bring peace-offerings, and today I have fulfilled my vow. That is why I went out toward you, to seek your countenance, and I have found you! I have decked my bed with spreads; carved bed poles are hung with Egyptian linen. I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. Come, let us sate ourselves with love until the morning; let us rejoice with acts of love, for [my] husband is not at home; he has gone on a distant journey. He has taken the money-pouch with him; he will come home at the appointed time." She sways him with her abundant sophistication; she thrusts him with the glibness of her lips. He follows her unsuspectingly, like an ox to the slaughter; rushing like a venomous snake to discipline the foolish one, until the arrow splits his liver; he is like a bird hurrying to the trap, unaware that its life will be lost" (Mishlei 7:5-20). The outcome of all this is a warning against the pursuit of bodily pleasures and desires. Accordingly he [Shlomo] likens matter, which is the cause of all these bodily pleasures, to a harlot who is also a married woman. In fact his entire book is based on this allegory. And we shall explain in various chapters of this treatise his wisdom in likening matter to a married harlot, and we shall explain how he concluded this book with a eulogy of the woman who is not a harlot but confines herself to attending to the welfare of her household and husband. For all the hindrances keeping man from his ultimate perfection, every deficiency affecting him and every disobedience, come to him from his matter alone, as we shall explain in this treatise. This is the proposition that can be understood from this parable as a whole. I mean that man should not follow his bestial nature; I mean his matter, for the proximate matter of man is identical with the proximate matter of other living beings. And as I have explained this to you and disclosed the secret of this parable, you should not hope to find some signification corresponding to every subject occurring in this parable] so that you could say: what can be submitted for the words, "I had vowed to bring peace-offerings, and today I have fulfilled my vow"? What subject is indicated by the words, "I have decked my bed with spreads"? And what subject is added to this general proposition by the words, "for my husband is not at home"?The same holds good for the other details in this chapter. For all of them only figure in the consistent development of the parable's external meaning, the circumstances described in it being of a kind typical for adulterers. Also the spoken words and other such details are of a kind typical of words spoken among adulterers. Understand this well from what I have said, for it is a great and important principle with regard to matters that I wish to explain.
The Rambam and the Malbim clearly disagree on this point! The Malbim would criticize the Rambam for saying that all of these details were included by Shlomo solely for the purpose of developing the external allegory, and convey no ideational content or significance. The Rambam, in turn, would criticize the Malbim for seeking an interpretation of these details and descriptions when no such interpretation exists. In fact, the Rambam goes on to voice just such a criticism:
When, therefore, you find that in some chapter of this treatise I have explained the meaning of a parable and have drawn your attention to the general proposition signified by it, you should not inquire into all the details occurring in the parable, nor should you wish to find significations corresponding to them. For doing so would lead you into one of two ways: either into turning aside from the parable's intended subject, or into assuming an obligation to interpret things not susceptible to interpretation and that have not been inserted with a view to interpretation. The assumption of such an obligation would result in extravagant fantasies such as are entertained and written about in our time by most of the sects of the world, since each of these sects desires to find certain significations for words whose author in no way had in mind the significations wished by them. Your purpose, rather, should always be to know, regarding most parables, the main idea that was intended to be known. 
Basically, the Rambam is warning us that if we follow the Malbim's approach, looking for deep significance in every detail, we'll end up missing out on major ideas and projecting our own fantasies onto the pesukim which have nothing to do with the meaning that the authors (or Author) intended to convey. 

To my mind it is clear that the Malbim's approach was not shared by many of the classical meforshim among the Rishonim and Achronim. This conclusion is supported by the lack of Malbim-esque explanations in their commentaries, and the abundant interpretations they do provide which violate the three pillars of the Malbim's approach.

"Team Malbim"

And yet, the Malbim is not alone in his methods. First and foremost, his approach - or at least, something like his approach - was shared by none other than Chazal (i.e. the Tannaim and Amoraim). In his book, Ayeles ha'Shachar, the Malbim [6] writes: 
Chazal strove to figure out the essential definitions of all borrowed terms … Similarly, they showed the relationship between homonyms … And each synonym has a unique definition on which they build their many drashos. The same is true of parallel expressions: after much study, [one can understand] when one expression is used and when another is used …
In other words, the approach that Chazal took in their drashos parallels the Malbim's own approach - so much so that the Malbim attempted to fuse the two in Ayeles ha'Shachar, and in his commentary on Torah. Anyone who has learned Gemara and the various collections of midreshei aggadah and midreshei halacha will be able to see that Chazal's approach to Tanach is far more similar to the Malbim's than the Ibn Ezra's. They clearly cared about textual nuances, apparent repetitions, and anomalous words and phrases. They clearly held that every feature of the text was there for a specific reason, to convey specific Torah content. They would never say, "The Torah repeated the same thing in different words" or "this description is just here to develop the allegory, and has no significance beyond that." (Of course, the Rambam would say that they actually held this, but just didn't say it.)

And since Chazal followed this approach, the meforshim who regularly integrate Chazal's explanations can also be included on "Team Malbim." Rashi would definitely be part of the group. So would the Torah Temimah and the Baal ha'Turim. Other commentaries accept this approach, even if they supplement it with other approaches, such as the Ramban, Rabbeinu Bachya, and even the Ralbag, in his own way 

But the Malbim's true kindred spirit was Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch, who was a contemporary of his. Like the Malbim, Rav Hirsch set out on an ambitious linguistic project to understand all the nuances of Hebrew, based on his own analysis and his own theories on etymology. Rav Hirsch would certainly agree with the Malbim that synonyms should be scrutinized for subtler shades of meaning, and he would also agree that the subtleties in the text are important. When reading Rav Hirsch's commentary one gets the feeling that he and the Malbim would make a great chavrusa (learning pair), having different ideas - owing to the differences in their creativity - but fundamentally sharing the same outlook in their interpretive methodology and linguistic framework.

Another group of people who would be in good company with the Malbim are those who are inclined to apply modern methods of literary analysis to Tanach. Like the Malbim, they strive to be in tune with the textual landscape, in all of its particularity. They also care about intertextuality, parallel phrasing, organizational schemes, and a bunch of other fancy shmancy literary devices - which I imagine the Malbim would appreciate (judging by my experience with his style).

Concluding Thoughts

Obviously I am in no position to decide which approach is “better” or “more correct.” There are advantages and disadvantages to each. 

If I had to choose, though, I would side with the Ibn Ezra. Our priority in learning must be to get the main idea, even if we don’t appreciate all of the details of how that idea is expressed in the pesukim. Furthermore, even the Malbim would admit that we cannot expect to do what he did, and that if we tried, we would be engaging in speculative guesswork. The only way to truly learn Tanach on the level of the Malbim would be to study the text with his commentary as the infallible (for all practical purposes) guide to Biblical Hebrew. The advantage of this approach is that we’d get to see all of the amazing insights that the Malbim’s approach draws out of the text. The disadvantage is that we’d be totally dependent on him for our learning. 

As a teacher, I default to the Ibn Ezra side. However, that doesn’t stop me from sharing with my students the ingenious, creative, nuanced interpretations offered by the Malbim in his monumental commentary.

[1] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Shemos (Long Version) 20:1
[2] ibid. Commentary on Sefer Bereishis: end of Introduction
[3] Rav Meir ben Yechiel Michel (Malbim), Commentary on Sefer Yeshayahu: Introduction
[4] The term used here is "מליצות" which can mean "allegories," "figurative speech, "flowery speech," "poetic speech," "rhetoric," and the like. I've translated it as "eloquent speech," since I believe that the Malbim intends this to cover all the words of the prophets - not just select sections.
[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Moreh ha'Nevuchim: Introduction
[6] Rav Meir ben Yechiel Michel (Malbim), Ayeles ha'Shachar 30:248

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Honoring Our Non-Jewish Elders

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Left: [Great] Uncle William, at the age of 4, in February 1921
Right: [Great] Uncle William, at the age of 101, in July 2018


Honoring Our Non-Jewish Elders

Uncle William

My brother and I recently returned from our annual trip to Hawaii, where our mom's side of the family has lived for several generations. My mom's father was one of thirteen siblings, the oldest of whom was born in 1902. Of those thirteen siblings, only one is still alive: [Great] Uncle William (whom we refer to as "Uncle William," even though he's my grandfather's brother). 

Uncle William was born on April 1st, 1917.

Yes, your math is correct: this past April 1st was his 101st birthday. 

Let's put Uncle William's personal timeline into perspective by using American history and American innovation as a basis of comparison. The year Uncle William was born, Woodrow Wilson was president (#28), and Liliuokalani, the last Queen of Hawaii, was still alive. Hawaii wouldn't become a state until 42 years later. Television wasn't invented until Uncle William was almost 10 years old. He was a teenager during the Great Depression, and in his mid-20's he witnessed the bombing of Pearl Harbor by the Japanese. He still holds it against FDR for taking America off the gold standard in 1933. He was too old to be in the Korean War, which started in his mid-30's, and he was nearly 60 when the Vietnam War ended. He was 75 at the birth of the World Wide Web, and he was 84 on 9/11. 

Impressive, no?

Uncle William worked as a furniture repair man for most of his life, and only retired at the age of 95, when he started having a hard time getting up after sitting down on the floor to work. He remained active into his 90's, riding his bike into town, trading up his vehicle for a new one (because "the old car didn't fit my lifestyle"), and mowing his own lawn ("it takes me three days").

All the while, his mental faculties didn't dull in the slightest. While not a towering intellectual or even a deep thinker, Uncle William definitely has a reflective soul. Although he didn't go to college or graduate from high school (my grandfather was the only one of his siblings to do that), Uncle William was a reader - especially of newspapers. He followed the news to the point where we could ask him for his opinion on any current event, and he would have something thoughtful to say. (For the record: he didn't like Obama because he was a politician and didn't like Trump because "he's just a big mouth" and he thinks that America is going downhill because Democracy appeals to the lowest common denominator; when we asked him who America's last great leader was, he said, "Clinton was good ... the man - not the wife.")

Unfortunately, Uncle William had a prostate issue two years ago, and needed to start using a catheter, which slowed him down. Things started going downhill from there. He had made it to the age of 98 living on his own, but was finally forced to hire an attendant to help him. By the time we visited him this summer his vision and hearing had deteriorated, and he now has 24-hour care.

And yet, he's still mentally with it! We talked with him for about an hour, and said that we'd visit him next summer ("If I'm still around!").

After visiting Uncle William this summer, I found myself wondering: "What would Torah say? How would Judaism frame my interaction with a man of Uncle William's age?"

I decided I'd look into it. This is what I found.

The Halacha of Honoring Non-Jewish Elders

The "halachic address" of our topic is the mitzvas aseh (positive commandment) of "mipnei seivah takum," which is derived from the pasuk: "In the presence of old age you shall rise, and you shall honor the presence of a sage, and you shall revere your God - I am Hashem" (Vayikra 19:32). Here is the Sefer ha'Chinuch's [1] summary of the basic mitzvah:
[The 257th mitzvah is] to honor chachamim (the wise) and rise before them, as it is stated: "you shall rise up before seivah (lit. white hair)," which Onkelos translated as: "you shall rise up before one who knows Torah." Our Sages of blessed memory explained "and you shall honor the presence of a zakein (lit. elder)" as referring to none other than zeh she'kanah chochmah (one who has acquired wisdom). The reason why Scripture expresses "chacham" as "zakein" is because a young chacham has seen through his chochmah (wisdom) what an elder has seen through the multitude of his years.
While the primary form of this mitzvah is to honor chachamim, we follow the opinion of R' Issi ben Yehudah in the Gemara who says that "[this pasuk] implies all [types of] seivah" which even includes elders who are not chachamim. Here is the Rambam's [2] codification of this secondary component of the mitzvah, which includes the case at hand:
We stand in the presence of a zakein ha'muflag b'ziknah (an elder who is very advanced in age) even though he is not a chacham (wise man). Even a young chacham should stand in the presence of a zakein ha'muflag b'ziknah – though he is not obligated to stand to his full stature, but only enough to show respect to him. And even a non-Jewish elder we honor with words, and we lend him a supporting hand, as it is stated: “rise up in the presence of old age” – which implies old age in any sense of the term.
The Shulchan Aruch [3] brings down the Rambam's formulation almost verbatim. Although there is some debate as to what age would qualify someone as a zakein ha'muflag b'ziknah - with opinions ranging from 60, to 70, to 90 - I suspect everyone would agree that Uncle William's age of 101 years places him firmly within this halachic category.

The source of the Rambam's halacha is the Gemara in Kiddushin (33a), which states:
R’ Yochanan would rise up in the presence of a non-Jewish elder, saying: “How many experiences he has endured!” Rava would not rise up, but he would show him honor. Abaye would lend his hand to [such] elders.
The Rambam paskins (halachically rules) in accordance with Rava and Abaye that although we do not stand up for a zakein goy (non-Jewish elder) as we would for a zaken Yisrael (Jewish elder), we show him honor in other ways: verbally and by providing assistance.

Although the Rambam's citation of our pasuk and subsequent explanation might seem to imply that he holds that honoring a zakein goy is part of the mitzvah de'oraisa (Biblical obligation), it is pretty clear that this isn't what he actually holds. If it were, then there would be no differentiation between a zakein goy and a zakein Yisrael. Rather, showing honor to a zakein goy is either a mitzvah mi'de'rabbanan [4] (Rabbinic mitzvah), or something we do out of darchei shalom [5] ("ways of peace," intended to maintain peace between Jews and non-Jews). This explains why we differentiate between a zakein goy and a zakein Yisrael - to show that the two acts of giving kavod do not share the same halachic nature.

The Philosophy Behind the Halacha

The Sefer ha'Chinuch offers the following reason for this mitzvah as a whole (i.e. to honor chachamim):
At the root of this mitzvah lies the reason that the main purpose of man's having been created in the world is for the sake of chochmah, so that he will recognize his Creator, therefore, it is fitting for people to honor one who has attained this. As a result, others will be inspired about it. It is based on this reason that Issi ben Yehudah said in the Gemara Kiddushin that even an uneducated elder - i.e. one who is not wise - is included in this mitzvah, for it is befitting to honor him because in his multitude of years he has seen and recognized some of the works and wonders of Hashem, and this is worthy of honor. This is why Rebbi Yochanan said there in the Gemara Kiddushin: "the halacha is in accordance with Issi ben Yehudah" - on the condition that [the elder] is not a confirmed sinner, in which case, he has deprived himself of honor.
Even though we have established that the obligation of honoring a zakein goy is not a part of the mitzvah de'oraisa, the reason behind this act of honor is definitely related. As stated above, R' Yochanan explained his reason for standing in the presence of a zakein goy, saying: "How many (harpatkei) experiences he has endured!" Rashi [6] explains the unusual term "harpatkei":
harpatkei [means] experiences and troubles; and they have seen many miracles and wonders.
According to Rashi, we honor a zakein goy not for any type of specialized chochmah that he may or may not have. Rather, we honor him for the chochmah that he has gained from his life-experience and the wondrous phenomena he has had the opportunity to witness. This would certainly apply to non-Jew elders, no matter where they're from.

Rav Hirsch [7] provides a similar explanation, differentiating between the two reasons for honoring an elder, which he relates to the two words used to denote "old age" (i.e. seivah and ziknah):
He who honors seivah honors experience; that is, he honors the natural human perception that matures through the repeated events of life and nature. He who honors ziknah honors wisdom; that is, he honors the understanding of life and nature that is obtained from God's Word. For God's Word reveals the Divine source and purpose of life and nature, and their significance for our mission. We must pay tribute to both: the clear and circumspect human intellect, which matures through experience; and the spirit of God, which proceeds from the Torah. And whenever we find them, in the aged and in the wise, we are to show our homage by rising and honoring.  
The Ralbag [8] seems to learn our pasuk as teaching two separate mitzvos: "in the presence of old age you shall rise" commands us to honor elders, regardless of their wisdom, and "honor the presence of a sage" commands us to honor chachamim. He explains the first mitzvah very similarly to the Sefer ha'Chinuch, but throws in a Gersonidean twist at the end:
"in the presence of old age you shall rise" is a mitzvas aseh to rise up in the presence of every aged person, in order to honor him. There is a benefit in this: on account of this, those who are young in days will listen to the words of the aged, and their words will be precious to them, and they will behave in accordance with their discipline. For the aged, due to the multitude of worldly events that they have witnessed, will come to know by way of experience many principles of decision-making and ethics. Thus, one who listens to these words will be saved from many afflictions that would have befallen him, were it not for the advice of the aged. Furthermore, [one who honors the aged] will take it to heart to give great honor to Hashem, Who is Eternal - Who never didn't exist, and will never depart [from existence]. 
In other words, this mitzvah operates on two levels. On a practical level, the mitzvah facilitates the bequeathal of valuable life lessons from the older generation to the younger. On a philosophical/psychological level, this mitzvah trains us to have reverence for existence, which - according to the Ralbag - will ultimately strengthen our reverence for Hashem, Whose Existence is Eternal.

Ibn Ezra, [9] however, has a radically different take on this mitzvah:
The meaning of "in the presence of old age you shall rise" is on account of a dead person, because an elder is close to death, since his body is considered to be as though it is dead ... the meaning of "you shall fear your God" is that He will punish you in the days of old age.
According to the Ibn Ezra, we stand up in the presence of the elderly not to show them honor, but to remind ourselves of our impending death!

Concluding Thoughts

As is often the case with taamei ha'mitzvos (reasons for mitzvos), it is entirely possible for multiple explanations to be correct. All of these explanations ring true based on the time I've spent with Uncle William.

Have my encounters with Uncle William led me to value and revere the unique type of wisdom he has attained as a result of his long life? Yes. Am I more inclined to listen closely to his words than I would if I heard them from someone closer to my age? Yes. When I see him, do I become more cognizant of the finitude of my own life, and the eventuality of my own eventual death? Definitely.

And guess what? I even got to perform the mitzvah this trip by lending him a helping hand when he wanted to move to a different chair!

I realize that this blog post didn't break new ground or anything. I just think that it's a great example of how halacha enriches every area of my life, and I wanted to share that example with you.


[1] Sefer ha'Chinuch: Parashas Kedoshim, Mitzvah #257
[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Talmud Torah 6:9
[3] Rav Yosef Karo, Shulchan Aruch: Yoreh Deah 244:7
[4] Rav Yoel Sirkis (Bach), Bayis Chadash: Yoreh Deah 244
[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Yaakov (Semag), Sefer Mitzvos Gadol: Aseh #13
[6] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Talmud Bavli: Kiddushin 33
[7] Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch, Commentary on Vayikra 19:32
[8] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Vayikra 19:32
[9] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Vayikra 19:32