Showing posts with label R' Yosef ibn Caspi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label R' Yosef ibn Caspi. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 2, 2022

Wishful Thinking and Prophetic Interpretation

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Wishful Thinking and Prophetic Interpretation

Last summer, my mom asked me to look through a bunch of random Jewish books in our possession to see which ones we should keep and which ones we should sell or give away. One of the books I found (and have no idea how we came to own) was called, Fascinating Torah Prophecies Currently Unfolding (1997). The contents are exactly what you’d expect from a book with that title – especially one with a teaser banner on the cover advertising “fascinating codes and more.” 

I found myself thinking of this book after reading R’ Yosef ibn Kaspi’s introduction to Sefer Yirmiyahu:

This prophet Yirmiyah also did what Yeshaya [did], mentioning at the beginning of his book the name and intent of its author. This prophet also informed us of the intent of his book by stating that his prophecies were from the time of Yoshiyahu until the end of the days of Tzidkiyahu, in whose days and era the Temple was destroyed. Therefore, note that this prophet doesn’t speak at all about the building of the Third Temple, which we undoubtedly yearn for today. This is clear, for he prophesied the destruction of the First Temple and the building of the Second Temple, as Yeshaya did. The general rule is that it is not at all appropriate to ascribe to any prophet a prophecy about the building of the Third Temple unless we first find written in his book a promise about the destruction of the Second Temple. Without a doubt, Yirmiyah did not strive to assure them about the destruction of the Second Temple, even though he undoubtedly alluded [to it] with hints, as Yeshayahu did – just as Moshe alluded to the destruction of the First Temple with hints that would not be grasped by the masses … someone who is an expert in these holy books will understand the truth of our words.

Ibn Kaspi’s “general rule” is not unanimous. Others maintain that prophets do prophesy beyond their stated range. Rashi, for instance, interprets “I shall yet build you, and you shall be built, O virgin of Israel” (Yirmiyahu 31:3) to mean: “You had two buildings made by men. Therefore, they were destroyed. Yet again, I, Myself, will build a third building which will be built forever.” Ibn Kaspi was aware of such views, which is why he stated his objections at the outset of his commentary.

Which side of the machlokess do I think is correct? I have no idea. Why not? Because, as Ibn Kaspi said, only “someone who is an expert in these holy books will understand the truth of our words,” and I am not an expert in prophetic exegesis. Not even close. I have heard it said in the name of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik that “we no longer know how to learn Neviim nowadays.” I was unable to track down a source or a context for this quotation, but I refuse to believe he meant that the ideas and mussar (rebuke) of the neviim is inaccessible to us. Instead, I assume he meant that we, unlike the medieval commentators, are unable to decipher the precise meanings of the prophecies in the Neviim portion of Tanach.

It is very easy for a person to think they’re deciphering cryptic prophecies with their mind when all they’re doing is engaging in wishful thinking with their imagination. Who wouldn’t want to find a message of hope in a pasuk from Sefer Yirmiyahu about yemos ha’Moshiach and the building of Bayis Shelishi? But that’s exactly the point: our interpretation of the neviim should not be guided by hope, but by our knowledge of how nevuah works and how the neviim wrote. Rashi did not interpret the aforementioned pasuk to be about Bayis Shelishi simply because he wanted it to be about yemos ha’Moshiach. His interpretation was guided by his understanding of the subject matter.

Lastly, we must remember the Rambam’s words (Hilchos Melachim u’Milchamos 12:2) about Messianic speculations:

Regarding all of these [details of the time of Moshiach] – no person knows how they will be until they happen, for these things were hidden even from the prophets, and there is no clear tradition from the Sages on these matters. Therefore, there is disagreement about them. Nevertheless, neither the order nor the details of these matters are an essential part of the religion. A person shouldn’t involve himself in the words of the aggados (homiletical teachings), nor should he spend time in the words of the midrashim which were stated about these topics, and he shouldn’t regard them as fundamental, for they do not bring a person to fear [of God] nor to love [of God]. 
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Friday, July 10, 2020

Pinchas / 17th of Tammuz: The Korban Tamid and its Cessation

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Artwork: Through the Breach, by Randy Vargas

Pinchas / 17th of Tammuz: The Korban Tamid and its Cessation 

Introduction 

Yesterday was the 17th of Tammuz. This Shabbos we read Parashas Pinchas. There is one topic which is common to both: the korban tamid (continual daily offering). The Rambam [1] writes: 

On the 17th of Tammuz five things happened: (1) the tablets were broken, (2) the korban tamid ceased from the First Temple, (3) [the walled city of] Yerushalayim (Jerusalem) was breached in the destruction of the Second [Temple], (4) the wicked Apostomos burned a Torah scroll, and (5) he set up an idol in the Sanctuary. 

Of these five, the one which tends to resonate the least is the cessation of the korban tamid. The breaking of the tablets was a dramatic event, signaling the violation of our covenant with Hashem through the worship of the Golden Calf - one of our worst national transgressions of all time. The breach of Yerushalayim is easy to relate to as as tragedy, since it was the step which directly led to the destruction of the Beis ha’Mikdsah (Holy Temple). The evil deeds of Apostomos may not register on the same scale of national catastrophe as the preceding two events, but the act of burning a sefer Torah and setting up an idol in Mikdash evoke visceral reactions. Compared to these four tragic events, the cessation of the korban tamid seems relatively tame. What, exactly, was so bad about this event? 

The appearance of the korban tamid in Parashas Pinchas is rather jolting. Hashem shows Moshe the Land of Israel and informs him of his own impending death. Moshe pleads with Hashem to choose a successor to lead the people. Hashem instructs him to appoint Yehoshua. The passing of the mantle of leadership takes place in a dramatic public assembly featuring a pageantry rich in the symbolism of transition. And then, without warning, Hashem tells Moshe to command the Children of Israel in the mitzvah of the korban tamid. It is quite the non sequitur. 

The aim of this article is to address both issues: to understand what it is about the cessation of the korban tamid which warrants a national mourning on par with the other four tragedies, and to explain the Torah’s abrupt transition from the narrative of Yehoshua’s succession to the laws of the korban tamid. Lastly, we will take a first step in defining a theme which unites all five of the occurrences we commemorate on the 17th of Tammuz and suggest on that basis a possible avenue for national teshuvah we can engage in this year.

The Maimonidean Function of the Korban Tamid 

The Rambam [2] famously (or infamously) held that the purpose of all korbanos (sacrifices) is to counteract the yetzer ha’ra (evil inclination) for avodah zarah (idolatry). His theory is quite polarizing, to say the least. Some meforshim (commentators) vehemently oppose his view, such as the Ramban [3], who denounces the Rambam’s explanation as “foolish words" which "make the altar of Hashem disgusting.” Others embrace the Rambam’s view in a manner which “is even more Maimonidean than Maimonides,” [4] such as Ibn Kaspi [5], who boldly asserts that “Moshe Rabbeinu was forced and compelled against his will to write [the detailed laws of korbanos in Sefer Vayikra] … but the customs of the non-Jews at that time brought them to this.” 

While the Rambam’s view of korbanos as a whole is a subject of controversy, there is a distinctly Maimonidean dimension to the korban tamid which is undeniable. The Torah’s exposition of the laws of the korban tamid begins as follows: “Command the Children of Israel and say to them: My offering, My food for My fires, My satisfying aroma, you shall safeguard it to offer to Me in its appointed time” (Bamidbar 28:2). From here the Sages derive a universal halacha in korbanos known as muktzeh (lit. “set aside”). If an animal is used in a ceremony of avodah zarah, that animal becomes prohibited to be offered as a korban to Hashem. The Gemara (Temurah 29a) spells out how this halacha is derived from the pasuk

“You shall safeguard it to offer to Me in its appointed time” [implies] “to Me” but not to another master. And who is this other [master] to whom one might offer? This is avodah zarah.” 

This Gemara explicitly ties the korban tamid to the rejection of avodah zarah. Some argue that the derivation of the universal law of muktzeh from the korban tamid supports the Rambam’s contention that all korbanos are designed to counteract avodah zarah. This point is debatable, but everyone would agree that the tamid itself embodies this theme – even the Ramban. 

The thematic connection to the rejection of avodah zarah is reinforced by a cryptic Sifri (142): 

“Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying: Command the Children of Israel … My offering, My food …” Why was this said? Because it said: “[May Hashem … appoint a man over the assembly] who shall go out before them and come in before them” (Bamidbar 27:16-17). To what may this be compared? To a king whose wife, before she passed away, charged him regarding her children, saying: “Please take care of my children,” to which the king replied, “Before you charge me regarding my children, charge my children regarding me, so that they do not rebel against me, and so that they do not treat me disgracefully.” So too, Hashem told [Moshe]: “Before you charge Me regarding My children, charge them regarding Me, so that they not treat me disgracefully by exchanging My Glory for foreign gods.” Thus it is said: “For I shall bring them to the Land [… and they shall turn to the foreign gods of the land and serve them etc.”] (Devarim 31:20). Before you charge Me regarding My children, charge them regarding Me. Thus, it is stated: “Command the Children of Israel [in the mitzvah of the korban tamid].” 

What is clear from this Sifri is that the Sages characterized the korban tamid as a safeguard against the pitfall of avodah zarah that would threaten the nation upon entry into the Land of Israel under the leadership of Yehoshua. What is quite unclear is: How? How is the korban tamid a safeguard against avodah zarah? And what does this have to do with Yehoshua?

The answer to this question, and our question about the non sequitur in Parashas Pinchas, is given by the Torah Temimah [6], citing the explanation of the Sifri given by the Malbim [7]

The purpose [8] of the tamid is to counteract sun-worship. The idolaters would bow down and worship [the sun] twice each day, upon its rising and its setting. Its morning service would [take place] facing the east, and its afternoon service would [take place facing] the west. [Therefore,] Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu commanded us to offer before Him two daily sacrifices: the slaughtering of the morning [tamid] at the northwest corner [of the altar] and the [slaughtering of] the afternoon [tamid] at the northeast corner, in direct opposition to sun-worship. 

The Sages said that if Moshe had entered the Land [of Israel,] he would have nullified the yetzer for avodah zarah, and the service of the tamid would have been unnecessary. Since he requested, “May Hashem appoint a man over the assembly,” and Yehoshua was appointed to wage wars, and he lacked the power to nullify the yetzer for avodah zarah, therefore Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu instructed Moshe to charge His children to not exchange His Glory for foreign gods and to not worship the sun, as the gentile nations did. And it is for this purpose that the section of the tamid was commanded, namely, as a polemic against avodah zarah

According to Sifri, as interpreted by the Torah Temimah and the Malbim, identity of the korban tamid is so essentially tied to the repudiation of avodah zarah that its very structure is designed to be the antithesis of sun-worship, which was popular among the Canaanite nations. When the sun rises in the east, and the sun-worshippers bow eastward, we turn our backs on the sun and offer the morning tamid to Hashem, facing west. When the sun begins to set in the west and the sun-worshippers turn with it, we demonstrate our rejection of their cult and their god by offering the afternoon tamid in the east. 

The placement of this topic in Parashas Pinchas is explained based on the notion that avodah zarah would have been totally eradicated under Moshe Rabbeinu’s leadership, thereby rendering the korban tamid unnecessary. But since Moshe would not enter the Land, and Yehoshua would not be capable of eliminating the drive towards avodah zarah on his own, he would need to wage a continual war against avodah zarah – a war whose constancy was represented by the korban tamid, which also functioned as a weapon in the battle. 

The Tragedy of the Cessation of the Tamid 

In light of this explanation, we are now in a position to understand the tragedy of the cessation of the korban tamid. It is well-known that one of the primary national sins which resulted in the destruction of the first Beis ha’Mikdash was avodah zarah. The first crack in the edifice of the United Kingdom of Israel arose from the introduction of avodah zarah into the Land, chiefly through the idolatrous marriages and alliances of Shlomo ha’Melech. The destruction and exile of the Northern Kingdom of Israel came about from the avodah zarah introduced by the king Yeravam ben Navat via his Golden Calves. The decree of destruction and exile of the Southern Kingdom of Yehudah was sealed by the evil king Menashe, who spread avodah zarah so far and wide that he nearly drove Judaism to utter extinction. All of the prophets who prophesied about the destruction of the Beis ha’Mikdash, from Yeshayahu to Yirmiyahu, routinely rebuked the Jewish people for their attachment to avodah zarah

When viewed merely as a “ritual sacrifice,” the korban tamid is the most mundane of them all. But when viewed through the lens of the foregoing analysis, the korban tamid is emblematic of the daily national battle against the yetzer ha’ra for avoadah zarah. The specific form of avodah zarah it is designed to counteract underscores the enormity of this battle. Every morning the sun rises and sets, illuminating the earth and sustaining its life, and humanity faces the question: Will you regard the sun as an independent source of power worthy of veneration and worship, or will you recognize it as an expression of the laws of nature authored by the One Creator of the Heavens and the Earth, and submit yourself to His will by serving Him, as does the sun itself? 

Thus, the cessation of the korban tamid on the 17th of Tammuz represents the collapse of the final bulwark against avodah zarah – the dam that held back the powerful forces of avodah zarah that had been erected by Moshe at the very inception of the Israelite conquest, and had continued to lend their stalwart defenses as the nation sunk further and further into idolatry. But finally, on the 17th of Tammuz, the last vestiges of Moshe’s ward [9] gave way. The korban tamid’s metaphysical fortification was breached just like the walls of Yerushalayim, and the long battle was lost, leaving countless casualties in its wake. 

The Beginnings of a Unified Theory of the 17th of Tammuz 

I haven’t fully worked it out yet, but I do believe that this opens up a path to understanding the unity of the five events we commemorate on the 17th of Tammuz. I would like to propose that the theme of the 17th of Tammuz in the infiltration of avodah zarah into our avodas Hashem (service of God). Let us see how this theme is reflected in each of the five events. 

Why did Moshe break the tablets? Because he saw that the nation he had led out of Egypt was still attached to their avodah zarah ways. For this reason, they were not worthy of receiving the Torah, since their involvement in avodah zarah was tantamount to a rejection of the entire Torah. [10] Despite their witnessing of Hashem’s defeat of the idolatrous Egyptian empire, their redemption through miraculous signs and wonders, and their experiencing of the Divine Revelation at Har Sinai, the insidious lure of avodah zarah still managed to retain its hold, and the original covenant they made with Hashem was rendered null and void. 

The relationship of avodah zarah to the cessation of the korban tamid has been sufficiently explained: the korban tamid was designed to function as an inoculation against avodah zarah, and its cessation represented the culmination of avodah zarah’s conquest of the nation. 

The breach of the walls of Yerushalayim has also been explained: Yerushalayim and Bayis Rishon (the First Temple) were destroyed for the sin of avodah zarah. (And if you’ll object, saying: “Doesn’t the 17th of Tammuz commemorate the breach of the walls of Yerushalayim in Bayis Sheini?” then feel free to read this extensive footnote.[11]

Lastly, the two wicked deeds of Apostomos epitomize the infiltration of avodah zarah into our avodas Hashem: (a) he burned the Torah, a system whose essence is to uproot avodah zarah, and (b) Apostomos, who was an idolater himself, literally infiltrated the Beis ha’Mikdash, which is the makom avodas Hashem (place of Divine service) par excellence, and set up an actual idol of avodah zarah there. It is impossible to conceive of something that represents the theme of “infiltration of avodah zarah into our avodas Hashem” greater than that! 

What is the significance of this as the unified theme of the 17th of Tammuz? The answer lies in the purpose of all national fast days, as the Rambam writes: 

There are days on which all of Israel fasts because of the catastrophes that occurred on them, in order to awaken the hearts [of the people] and to open the paths of teshuvah (repentance). This will be a remembrance of our corrupt actions and the corrupt actions of our fathers that were like our actions today, which ultimately reached the point that [these corrupt actions] caused these catastrophes for them and for us. Through the remembrance of these things we will return to do good, as it stated, “they will confess their sins and the sins of their fathers” (Vayikra 26:40). 

All of our fast days revolve around the destruction of the first and second Mikdash, and a recognition that we are still in exile awaiting the ultimate redemption and the building of the third and final Mikdash. Why are we still in exile? Why don’t we have our makom avodas Hashem? Because the yetzer ha’ra for avodah zarah is alive and well. It has infiltrated our ranks and has permeated our avodas Hashem just as it did with our ancestors. The threat of the yetzer avodah zarah looms so large, and is such an obstacle to the rehabilitation necessary to be worthy of the final redemption, that the Sages instituted a day of national teshuvah devoted specifically to this theme. The first step in on the road to our national recovery is to recognize the problem which led to our downfall in the first place, and until we do that, then we shall remain in exile. 

One last question: How is the yetzer ha'ra for avodah zarah still alive and well? Is the korban tamid even relevant anymore? Do people still worship the sun? Do people bow down to it and ascribe supernatural power to it? That is the question which must be answered by each of us when we engage in national teshuvah. There is much to say, but the best kind of teshuvah starts with individual introspection. 

I will end by mentioning one possibility. We are currently in the midst of a unprecedented pandemic. As of the writing of this article there have been 12.3 million confirmed cases and over 557,000 deaths worldwide. We have seen the structures of our society crumbled around us, and scores of individuals, communities, and nations have been pushed to the brink. Many of us have faced a greater degree of insecurity than at any other time in our lives, and the future has never been more uncertain.

We may not worship the sun as an entity of independent power - but how many people have we seen over the course of this pandemic relate to other elements of nature in a similar manner? Have we progressed beyond the primitive mentality of helplessly flailing in a storm of terrifying forces and truly acknowledged that nature and all of its elements operate in accordance with the will and wisdom of the Creator? Have we followed the implications of this realization by recognizing that this same Creator gave us His Torah, and commanded us to keep it? Have we truly accepted the fact the universe He created and the Torah He has given us are good, and that we can partake of this good by aligning ourselves with His will? 

These are the questions we must ask in order to engage in national teshuvah. As long as the worship of the sun, the stars, and the heavenly forces is still practiced among the Jewish people - whether in its original primitive form, or in its sublimated modern form - then the catastrophe of the 17th of Tammuz will continue to ripple through time. May Hashem speedily fulfill what Zechariah prophesied: 

"Thus said Hashem, Master of Legions: The fast of the fourth [month, of Tammuz], the fast of the seventh [month, of Tishrei], and the fast of the tenth [month, of Teves] will be to the House of Yehudah for joy and for gladness and for happy festivals. [Only] love truth and peace!" (Zechariah 8:19)

Footnotes
[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zmanim, Hilchos Taaniyos 5:2 
[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Moreh ha’Nevuchim 3:32 
[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides) Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 1:9 
[4] Credit for this phrase goes to my high school principal, who used it in reference to the Ralbag. 
[5] Rabbeinu Yosef ibn Kaspi, Commentary on Vayikra 1:1. The Ibn Kaspi goes even further than that, and refrains from writing commentary on all the sections of Vayikra which deal with korbanos! And yes, I realize that I’ve just committed a “Rishonic hit-and-run,” and I intend to follow this up with its own post at some point in the future. 
[6] Rav Baruch ha'Levi Epstein, Torah Temimah: Sefer Bamidbar 28:2, footnote 2 
[7] Rav Meir Leibush ben Yechiel Michel (Malbim), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 28:2; the Torah Temimah’s citation of the Malbim is near verbatim, but I’ve decided to use his instead of the Malbim’s because the language is slightly more concise. 
[8] lit. “the tamid came to counteract sun-worship.” I didn’t like this literal translation because it sounds too much like, “Don’t ride a horse on Shabbos because you might come to break off a branch!” 
[9] Get it? “Ward” means “protection” but it also refers to a minor under the care of an adult – a subtle nod to the analogy in the Sifri about charging a parent to protect their children. I felt compelled to point that out. 
[10] See my (unfinished) analysis of Rashi’s interpretation of the breaking of the tablets: https://kolhaseridim.blogspot.com/2016/07/17th-of-tammuz-breaking-of-tablets.html
[11] It is true that the 17th of Tammuz commemorates the breach of Yerushalayim during Bayis Sheini, not Bayis Rishon. In fact, we know when the when the walls of Bayis Rishon were breached because it’s stated openly in the pesukim: “On the 9th of the month [of Tammuz] the famine was strong in the city and there was no bread for the people of the land. The city was breached, and all the men of war [fled] during the night” (II Melachim 25:4; see also Yirmiyahu 52:6-7). 

Why, then, do we fast on the 17th of Tammuz instead of the 9th? Why not commemorate the breach of the walls in Bayis Rishon? The answer, according to some, is that we used to observe this fast day on the 9th of Tammuz, and it was subsequently changed to the 17th after the destruction of Bayis Sheini. The Lechem Mishneh (on Hilchos Taaniyos 5:2) explains: 

Even though the fast in the pasuk, “the fast of the fourth [month],” refers to the 9th [of Tammuz], since the city was breached on the 9th, nevertheless, we now observe it on the 17th because the destruction of Bayis Sheini was worse, and the walls of the city [then] were breached on the 17th. And if you’ll [object] saying that we observe the 10th of Teves because the King of Bavel besieged Yerushalayim during the destruction of Bayis Rishon, but we should have changed it to the day that the city was besieged during Bayis Sheini, since it was worse – the answer is that our case is different, since everything happened on one month and it’s not a big deal to change [the observance of the fast] from the 9th to the 17th, but in there [in the case of the two sieges] the times are spread apart. 

Thus, it turns out that the fast day we observe on the 17th of Tammuz is essentially about the breach of the walls of Yerushalayim per se – not about the breach of the walls during Bayis Sheini specifically, the exclusion of Bayis Rishon. Hence, my comment in the body of the article that the theme of the day is the infiltration of avodah zarah into our avodas Hashem, which is reflected in the destruction of Bayis Rishon on account of avodah zarah
[12] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zmanim, Hilchos Taaniyos 5:1 

Friday, June 12, 2020

Behaalosecha: Moshe’s Mysterious Marriage

For an response to the view of Ibn Kaspi as presented in this post, see Rabbi Yaakov Trachtman's enlightening article Moshe's Disguised Divorce - a Response to Ibn Caspi.

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Artwork: Autumn's Veil, by Kekai Kotaki









Behaalosecha: Moshe's Mysterious Marriage

The Question 

Parashas Behaalosecha marks the turning point in Sefer Bamidbar from the hopeful to the nopeful.[1] Bnei Yisrael are marching towards Eretz Yisrael with the Ark of Hashem in their midst, poised to bring the Redemption from Egypt to a close with the establishment of a Torah society in the land promised to Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. Then tragedy strikes. A series of missteps by the nation and by individuals culminates in the sin of the spies, resulting in 40 years of wandering the Wilderness, and the death of the generation that left Egypt. 

Our parashah concludes with one such misstep: the sin of Miriam and Aharon. The sin itself is recorded in a single pair of pesukim (verses): 

Miriam and Aharon spoke about Moshe regarding the matter of the Kushite [2] woman that he married, for he had married a Kushite woman. They said, “Was it only to Moshe that Hashem spoke? Didn’t He also speak with us?” and Hashem heard. (Bamidbar 12:1-2). 

What, exactly, happened here is murky, to say the least. We are told that Miriam and Aharon spoke about Moshe “regarding the matter of the Kushite woman that he married” – yet, the statement attributed to them is entirely about prophecy, as is Hashem’s focus when He subsequently reprimands them. What does this have to do with “the matter of the Kushite woman that he married”? Furthermore, how are we to understand the seemingly redundant phrase “for he had married a Kushite woman”? What is this intended to add or explain? 

But perhaps the most basic question of all is: Who is this Kushite woman? She is not identified by name and is not mentioned anywhere else in Tanach. This is the question we will focus on. We will not aim to explain the sin of Miriam and Aharon in full. Instead, we will focus on the three methodological approaches taken by the commentators. 

A survey of the commentators reveals that there are essentially two camps. One camp maintains that the Kushite woman is Tziporah, the daughter of Yisro whom Moshe married in his youth after fleeing Egypt as a fugitive. The second camp maintains that the Kushite is some other woman, aside from Tziporah. 

Camp “Tziporah” 

According to the Tziporah camp, there are two questions which must be addressed. The first question is: Why is she called “the Kushite woman”? After all, Tziporah has been mentioned by name three times prior to this incident. Why not call her by name here? The second question is: Why is she called “the Kushite woman” if she was, in fact, not Kushite, but Midianite? 

Onkelos, the Aramaic translator of the Torah, often deviates from a literal translation of the Hebrew in order to address certain issues in the pshat (straightforward meaning of the verse). In this case he is bothered enough by our questions that he makes two rather radical changes. 

Original Hebrew: Miriam and Aharon spoke about Moshe regarding the matter of the Kushite woman that he married, for he had married a Kushite woman. 

Onkelos’s Aramaic: Miriam and Aharon spoke about Moshe regarding the matter of the beautiful woman that he married, for the beautiful woman he married he [subsequently] abandoned. 

Rashi, following Onkelos’s lead, answers both of our questions by explaining that “Kushite” is a euphemism for Tziporah’s beauty – either her physical beauty or the beauty of her deeds. How does “Kushite” function as a euphemism? Rashi explains: “just as the skin-color of a Kushite is universally acknowledged, so too was Tziporah’s beauty universally acknowledged.” [3] Apparently, it was deemed uncouth, immodest, or somehow inappropriate to explicitly speak about Tziporah’s beauty – hence the need for circumlocution. Rashi adds that the gematria (numerical value) of the word “Kushite” equals that of the phrase “beautiful appearance.” 

Onkelos maintains that the phrase “for he had married a Kushite woman” actually means that Moshe “abandoned the beautiful woman he had married.” It is unclear whether “abandoned” means that Moshe separated from Tziporah, or whether he actually divorced her. The question is: How did Miriam know that Moshe separated from Tziporah, and why was she talking about this now? Rashi [4], citing a midrash of Chazal [5], fills us in with the backstory: 

From where did Miriam know that Moshe separated from his wife? Rebbi Nosson says: Miriam was next to Tziporah at the time when it was said to Moshe: “Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp!” (Bamidbar 11:27). Upon hearing this, Tziporah exclaimed: “Woe unto the wives of these [men] once they are needed for prophecy, for they will have to separate from their wives in the same way that my husband separated from me!” From there Miriam knew [about Tziporah’s separation from Moshe] and told it to Aharon. And if Miriam didn’t intend to degrade Moshe and was punished thus, kal va’chomer (all the more so) one who speaks in order to degrade his friend! 

There you have it: “Camp Tziporah” answers our questions by positing that “the Kushite woman” is Tziporah, by explaining “for he had married a Kushite woman” to be a veiled reference to their separation, and by filling in the back-story explaining why Moshe and Tziporah separated and why Miriam only brought this up now. 

Camp “Other Woman” 

The Rashbam is known for his pshat explanations. He rarely cites midrash and prefers to answer questions conservatively, based on the principles of Hebrew grammar and the information provided in the text. It is not surprising that he rejects Rashi’s midrashic explanation. What is surprising is that he bases his answer on an obscure “outside text” entitled Divrei ha’Yamim Shel Moshe Rabbeinu (loosely translated as The Moses Chronicles in English). 

This non-canonical text is controversial, to say the least. Those who hold by its authenticity, such as the Rashbam, treat it as a historical account of “the missing years” of Moshe’s life which are not recorded in the Torah. Those who question or reject its authenticity, such as the Ibn Ezra [6], treat it as little more than “Moshe Rabbeinu fan-fiction,” and regard it as worthless. 

Nevertheless, the Rashbam [7] cites this text to explain who Moshe married, supporting his answer with the second question we raised on the position of Camp Tziporah: 

It is written in The Chronicles of Moshe Rabbeinu that he ruled as king in Ethiopia for 40 years and married an [Ethiopian] queen but didn’t sleep with her, as it is written there – but [Miriam and Aharon] didn’t know when they spoke about [Moshe] that he didn’t sleep with her. This is the essential pshat, for if they were speaking about Tziporah, what need was there to explain “for he married a Kushite woman”? Did they not know until now that Tziporah was a Midianite? Another objection is as follows: she wasn’t Kushite! Kush was one of the suns of Cham, but Midian was one of the children of Keturah who was descended from Avraham. 

Unlike Rashi, the Rashbam does not elaborate on why Miriam saw fit to bring this up to Aharon now, nor does he explain why the subsequent dialogue focuses on prophecy rather than on Moshe’s marriage to this Ethiopian queen (whom the Torah doesn’t bother to mention). 

But there is another pshat commentator who answers our question based on the text, and he has quite a lot to say. I am speaking of R’ Yosef ibn Kaspi. Allow me to preface my citation of his commentary with a confession: the whole reason I wrote this article was as an excuse to bring up this excerpt from ibn Kaspi’s commentary. It is one of the most scathing indictments of Rashi’s midrashic approach that I have ever encountered. My jaw dropped as I read it. 

Here is a full translation of what ibn Kaspi had to say, with my own paragraph divisions: 

I am astounded by the early [commentators], who were all more perfect than I am – I who couldn’t even reach their heel. How did they always fall into their own imagination, explaining the Torah to be the opposite of what is written, whether by substituting one word for the opposite word, or adding words with the opposite meanings? 

I am referring to the well-known commentary of Onkelos, about whom the Rambam said, “Onkelos ha’Ger was a great chacham (wise man)!” From where did [Onkelos] get the idea to explain “Kushite” as “beautiful,” [two words] which are as opposite as black and white? [8]

Furthermore, where did he get the idea to add opposite words after “for he married a Kushite woman” as though it was written in the Torah that “the Kushite woman he married he [subsequently] abandoned” or “distanced himself from.” If this were the intent of the Giver of the Torah, why didn’t He write this, and why did He write its opposite? 

Furthermore, who permitted us to do this? Who gave Onkelos so much power, or the Sages of the Talmud, or the Ibn Ezra – all of whom agree on this? Why can’t we do something like this, each man doing what is upright in his own eyes, to the point where we invert, “and you shall love Hashem, your God” to say – God forbid – “you shall hate Hashem, your God,” or “the one whom Hashem loves to “the one whom He hates.” 

And if you’ll say, “The Torah was received at Sinai and transmitted to Yehoshua, who taught us [as part of the] Oral Torah that this is the explanation of this verse” – the answer is what we responded to the initial claim: Why wasn’t the matter written out as it actually was, rather than writing a word which has the opposite meaning? Is the substitution of a word for its opposite worthy of being called an “explanation”? Rather, an “explanation” is what we call something which explains the words in accordance with their meaning in some way, as [the Sages] explained, “you shall not kindle a fire,” and “you shall not eat over the blood” with deep explanations which fit into what is written, and which certainly do not reverse its meaning. Anything other than this we call “an exchange” or “a reversal” or “an erasure” or “a revision” or “an uprooting.” And this is true in every language whatsoever. [According to the approach of Onkelos et al.,] why shouldn’t we say that “Hashem took you” really means “[Hashem] abandoned [you]”? Similarly, “he and his neighbor should take [can be interpreted to mean, “he and his neighbor should leave]. What advantage is there of this over this? 

As Hashem lives, this method – which is unanimously accepted by all of the early Sages, the pillars of the world and of faith and of strength to the Torah of Moshe – is so beyond me that I cannot accept it. God forbid I should do something like this, [which would be tantamount to] completely abandoning the Torah of Moshe and believing that a New Testament was made – God forbid! 

Let us pause here to process the ibn Kaspi’s objection to the approach taken by Onkelos, Rashi, and Chazal. He vehemently objects to those commentators who “interpret” the term “Kushite” as “beautiful,” based on his premise that the two terms are opposites. He refuses to accept the notion that this explanation is “part of the Oral Torah,” and he is so dedicated to the pshat that he implicitly equates the midrashic explanation to pledging allegiance to a New Testament! To be fair, his objection is not to midrash per se, but to midrashic explanations which go against the plain meaning of the text. This will be apparent from what follows. 

After this diatribe, he offers his own explanation: 

Therefore I say that the explanation of what is written here is according to what is necessarily understood from the Hebrew language, namely, that “Kushite” means a woman from the Land of Kush, and the meaning of “because he L.K.CH. [9] a Kushite woman” is that he took her [in marriage], for this is the explanation of the root L.K.CH. as opposed to A’.Z.V. All of this [is based on] the conventional use of the language. 

Accordingly, after Moshe married Tziporah, he married a Kushite woman in addition to Tziporah for a reason that he (peace be upon him) knew. One shouldn’t question the motives of his actions, for he undoubtedly did this out of wisdom. We don’t know the time period in which he married her, whether now when they were traveling or beforehand, because this hadn’t been mentioned in the Torah until this point, just as the Torah didn’t record many of the events that transpired. 

Because this wasn’t mentioned until now, then in order [that the reader] not be confused when it said “regarding the Kushite woman he married,” which we haven’t ever heard about, it said after this, “for he married a Kushite woman” – as if to say, “you should know that he married a Kushite woman, even though this hasn’t been mentioned yet, and this is what [Miriam and Aharon] were speaking about.” 

Because the reason for this additional marriage was hidden from them – perhaps Tziporah fell ill, or maybe she disobeyed him, or maybe it was some other reason we don’t know, or maybe they knew her reason, but they didn’t know [his] secret and the wisdom in this – therefore, they spoke about Moshe’s marriage to an additional wife, because one wife should have been enough for this perfected person. 

To summarize: ibn Kaspi maintains that Moshe married an ethnically Kushite woman in addition to Tziporah for reasons that were unknown to Miriam and Aharon, and undisclosed to us. The seemingly redundant phrase “for he had married a Kushite woman” is intended to validate the reader’s confusion upon learning of this fact, as if to say, “yes, this is a thing Moshe did, even though the Torah didn’t mention it until now.” 

Ibn Kaspi then goes on to explain the connection between Miriam’s statement and the subsequent discussion of prophecy. Miriam and Aharon reasoned that they were on a high enough level of prophecy to be “let in” on Moshe’s reasons for his unconventional decision to take a second wife. Because they overestimated the level of their own prophecy in relation to that of their brother, Hashem rebuked them and explained just how categorically superior Moshe’s prophecy was. And as for the “secret” reasons behind Moshe’s second marriage, Hashem’s silence on the matter indicates that it was really none of their business. 

Methodological Take-aways 

We have seen three approaches taken by the commentators to these two cryptic pesukim

(1) Onkelos and Rashi opt for a midrashic explanation which neatly answers all of the questions and fills in the gaps with an elaborate narrative. The weakness of this approach is that it puts a heavy strain on a literal reading of the text. 

(2) Rashbam rejects the midrashic approach and explains the text by making recourse to an outside source. The benefit of this approach is that it supplies us with missing information. This approach is very similar to the academic method employed by modern day Bible scholars. The weakness of this approach lies in the credibility of his source. Moreover, according to the Rashbam, what did Hashem intend for the reader of Torah to make of this episode? Did He expect everyone to have read The Chronicles of Moses

(3) Ibn Kaspi also rejects the midrashic approach – not only as false, but as a perversion of God’s word and the Hebrew language. Instead, he relies exclusively on the literal meaning of the text and conservatively infers a larger narrative from the minimal information provided in the pesukim. The downside of this approach is that it completely rejects the wisdom offered in the midrashic literature. 

Each of these three approaches has its pros and cons. Students of Chumash will likely be drawn towards one approach or the other. I, myself, favor the third, but recognize the value – and sometimes, the necessity – of the other two. 

This multiplicity of approaches is part of what makes the study of Chumash such an enjoyable and rich experience. 


Footnotes:
[1] I began writing this article on two hours of sleep, and the conclusion of this first sentence was the amusing result. I was going to change it, but my friends convinced me to leave it in – perhaps as a memorial to my folly. 
[2] The word “Kushite” is traditionally translated as “Ethiopian,” but is often used to refer to people from sub-Saharan Egypt, in general. 
[3] Talmud Bavli, Moed Katan 16b 
[4] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 12:1 
[5] Midrash Tanchuma, Tzav 13 
[6] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Long Commentary on Sefer Shemos 4:20 
[7] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Meir (Rashbam), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 12:1 
[8] This statement will undoubtedly strike the modern reader as strange, inappropriate, or false. Others will deem it to be offensive, racist, and condemnable. Like it or not, the fact of the matter is that certain Rishonim (medieval commentators) regarded Kushites as unattractive, and maintained that the same aesthetic valuation was held by the figures in Tanach whose words and actions they aimed to decipher. Whether Miriam and Aharon actually found Kushites to be unattractive is a question for the historians and anthropologists. Our task as students of these Rishonim is to set aside our personal views in an attempt to understand what insight these commentators intended to convey through their explanations, regardless of whether or not we agree with the premises on which these explanations were based. (I would like to thank the members of the Facebook group “Orthodox Jews Against Discrimination and Racism” for reviewing this footnote to ensure that it was worded in a sensitive manner.) 
[9] Here the Ibn Kaspi actually spells out each letter of the three-letter root – presumably for snark value.