On Interpreting "Miracle Stories" in the Talmud

Originally published in March 2013. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Counterspell, by Zack Stella - or an abstract rendition of Choni ha'Maagal

On Interpreting "Miracle Stories" in the Talmud

The author of the Haggadah quotes the last Mishnah in the first chapter of Berachos:

R' Elazar ben Azaryah said: I am like a seventy-year-old man, yet I did not merit [to prove that] the Exodus from Egypt must be mentioned at night until Ben Zoma expounded it [from the verse], as it is stated: “So that you will remember the day of your departure from Mitzrayim all the days of your life” (Devarim 16:3). “The days of your life” indicates the days. “All the days of your life” indicates the nights. The Sages say: “The days of your life” indicates this world. “All the days of your life” comes to include the Messianic Era.

R' Elazar ben Azaryah's statement is peculiar. Why does he say, "I am like a seventy-year-old man" and not simply, "I am a seventy-year-old man"?

The Gemara (Berachos 27b-28a) addresses this question. R' Elazar ben Azaryah was being considered as a candidate for the office of nassi, the head of the Sanhedrin (Supreme Court). He was hesitant about accepting the position, so he consulted his wife. She expressed her concern about his youthful appearance. The Gemara states: 

She said to him: “You have no white hair.” He was eighteen years old that day, and a miracle was done for him and eighteen rows of hair [on his beard] turned white. That is why R. Elazar ben Azaryah said: “Behold I am like a seventy-year-old man,” and he did not say, "I am a seventy year old man."

Most people take the Gemara's account at face value: a miracle was done for R' Elazar ben Azaryah, and his beard turned white. There doesn't seem to be anything objectionable about the Gemara's explanation.

The Rambam [1] begs to differ. In his commentary on that Mishnah he writes: 

Regarding the statement of R’ Elazar ben Azaryah, “Behold, I am like a seventy-year-old man” He didn’t say, “I am seventy years old” because he wasn’t seventy years old; he was but a young lad. However, he exerted himself in his learning and reading, day and night, until his bodily powers weakened and aged, and he became like a seventy-year-old man. He brought old age upon himself intentionally, as it is stated in the Talmud. For this reason he said, “In spite of my tremendous effort and my learning with other wise men, I did not merit to discover the allusion in the Written Torah for the obligation to read the paragraph of tzitzis at night until Ben Zoma expounded it.”

Not only does the Rambam explain R' Elazar ben Azaryah's elderly appearance in an entirely naturalistic way, but he cites our Gemara as his source! Even though Chazal go out of their way to ascribe R' Elazar ben Azaryah's transformation to a miracle, the Rambam doesn't see this as a sufficient reason to abandon a naturalistic explanation. 

The question is: How can the Rambam (seemingly) ignore Chazal's words? It would be one thing if the Gemara merely described a wondrous transformation in R' Elazar ben Azaryah's appearance without explicitly using the term "miracle" - but the Gemara does use the term "miracle"! What gives the Rambam the right to ignore the Gemara's plain meaning?

This isn't the first time we've seen a Rishon interpret such an event naturalistically in the face of Chazal's assertion that a miracle was involved. Several years ago I wrote a dvar Torah about Yocheved's age when she gave birth to Moshe. The Gemara (Bava Basra 119b) explicitly states that Yocheved was 130 years old when she gave birth to Moshe, and that this childbirth involved a miracle. Nevertheless, the Ibn Ezra and Ralbag disregard the Gemara's statement and offer a naturalistic interpretation. They, like the Rambam, seem to ignore Chazal's express statement that a miracle was done for Yocheved. 

Ralbag [2] goes even further than this. He writes that Chazal only said that Yocheved's childbirth was a miracle “for the benefit of the masses, to establish in their hearts the power of Hashem’s ability to do miracles.” In other words, Ralbag maintains that even Chazal didn't believe that Yocheved miraculously gave birth at the age of 130. Nevertheless, Chazal taught that a miracle was done for Yocheved in order to underscore the fundamental belief in miracles. 

Some might object to the Ralbag's statement, saying: "How can the Ralbag maintain that Chazal didn't mean exactly what they said? How can he say that Chazal believed one thing, but taught something else in public? Since when do Chazal conceal their opinions from the masses?" ... and that's when the objections start to break down. Anyone who is familiar with the way that the Rishonim approach midrashim knows that Chazal write cryptically. There are thousands of midrashim in which Chazal said things which they didn't intend to be taken literally, or made statements which contain "secret ideas" that were not intended for the masses. 

Indeed, Rabbeinu Avraham ben ha'Rambam, in his essay on the drashos of Chazal [3], mentions "taking midrashic miracle stories literally" as an example of superficial approaches to the drashos of Chazal: 

[Those who study my essay on midrashim] will be saved from thinking that the [events recorded in midrashim involved] miraculous occurrences are like those which were done for the prophets, and that such miracles are done for every wise and pious person, and that there is no difference between the splitting of the sea for Moshe and the Jews who left Egypt or the parting of the Yarden for Elisha and Eliyahu, and the like. These conclusions are only necessary if you take these drashos literally, or based on a superficial reading.

R' Avraham ben ha'Rambam then goes on at length to demonstrate that Chazal used hyperbole in their midrashic teachings:

There are many incidents that actually happened but were exaggerated in the belief that no reasonable person would mistake their meaning. The Rabbis condoned the use of exaggeration, saying, "The Torah used overstatement, the prophets used overstatement, and the Sages used overstatement." 

The Torah used hyperbole, like in the verse, "Great cities fortified to the skies" (Deuteronomy 1:28). The prophets used hyperbole, like in the verse, "The people were playing flutes and rejoicing with great joy; the ground burst from their noise" (1 Melachim 1:40). The Sages exaggerated when they described the heap of ashes on the altar [saying that there were three hundred kor of ashes - an immense quantity - on the altar]; they exaggerated when they spoke of the golden vine [on which the people used to hang their gifts of gold for the Beis ha'Mikdash, saying that it took three hundred kohanim to collect those gifts]; and they exaggerated when they described the curtain that separated the Kodesh ha'Kodashim from the Sanctuary, [saying that it was so heavy that it took three hundred kohanim to immerse it in a mikveh] (Tamid 29a). 

These are just three examples in the Mishnah, but in the Gemara there are countless cases of exaggeration. To cite one example: Rabbah and R' Zeira had the Purim feast together. They became intoxicated, and Rabbah got up and slew R' Zeira. On the next day Rabbah prayed for R' Zeira and revived him (Megillah 7b). What it means is that Rabbah beat R' Zeira and wounded him so badly that R' Zeira was near death. The Gemara uses the phrase "he slew him" because the wound was life-threatening, or it might have been on the throat. And the word achyei [he revived him] means "he recovered." The term achyei is often used for that meaning. Many similar stories are found in the Talmud.

It is clear from these Rishonim that Chazal didn't intend for everything they wrote in their midrashim to be taken literally, and that they chose to formulate their teachings in this way for a variety of reasons. For instance Rambam states that one of the Sages in the Gemara "responded to his student incorrectly, in accordance with the student's inadequate understanding of the matter, as it is stated, 'Answer a fool according to his foolishness' (Mishlei 26:4)" (Introduction to Perek Chelek). 

Perhaps the most astounding example of this is provided by the Rashba. Rashba writes [4] that these drashos were often given in public. "[The Sages] would go on at length with beneficial, but the people would be sleeping. In order to wake them up, [the Sages] would say crazy things to shock them and rouse them from their sleep." He cites the following amusing example from Shir ha'Shirim Rabbah 1:3:

Rebbi was sitting and giving a drashah, and the congregation was dozing off; he wanted to wake them up, [so] he said: “There was one woman in Egypt who gave birth to 600,000 [babies] in a single pregnancy!” There was one student present whose name was Rebbi Yishmael b’Rebbi Yossi. He asked: “Who was she?” [Rebbi] responded: “This was Yocheved, who gave birth to Moshe, who was equal to 600,000 Jews!”

The upshot of all of this something that most of us have known all along: Chazal didn't intend for their all of their midrashic statements to be taken literally, and made many statements which were not meant to be accepted at face value. What we might not have realized is just how far to extend this principle. We might have thought that when it comes to midrashim like the story of R' Elazar ben Azaryah's beard, which appears to be a problem-free factual account of a miraculous event, we should accept it as literal truth. We see from the Rambam (et al.) that this is not necessarily the case. 

We've established that the Rambam "has a right" to dismiss a literal reading of Chazal's assertion that R' Elazar ben Azaryah's aging was the result of a miracle. One question remains: What prompted the Rambam to deviate from the plain pshat and take this naturalistic approach? 

The best answer to this question was given by the Rambam himself, in his Maamar Techiyas ha'Meisim [5]. The Rambam was faced with the task of defending his belief in the literal truth of techiyas ha'meisim (the resurrection of the dead). As a prelude to his explanation the Rambam provides a beautiful account of why he interprets so many other seemingly miraculous accounts in a naturalistic fashion: 

I will explain to you that which brought me to this approach, and that is that our aim and the aim of every intelligent person among the select few is opposite to the aim of the multitude of people. For the most cherished and beloved thing to the multitude of Torah-observant people, because of their ignorance, is to consider the Torah and human intellect to be two opposite poles. Everything which is incomprehensible to the intellect they consider to be a miracle. They flee from explaining something as a natural phenomenon whether it pertains to something recorded in the past, or in regard to something which is discernible at the present time, or whether it relates to something which is written will happen in the future. We, on the other hand, strive to reconcile the Torah with human intellect and regard everything in its natural light wherever possible, unless it is self-evident therefrom that it is of miraculous connotation and cannot be interpreted at all; then we are forced to say it is a miracle.

There you have it. According to the Rambam, the correct approach is to interpret everything as naturalistically as possible unless we are forced to interpret it as a miracle. 

It is reasonable to conclude that this is what led the Rambam to interpret the Gemara about R' Elazar ben Azaryah as he did. There are "miracle stories" in Gemara which we are forced to take literally, but this isn't one of them. The Rambam saw that R' Elazar ben Azaryah's aged appearance could be explained without making recourse to miracles. Since a naturalistic explanation was available to him, that is the explanation he preferred. 

It is also important to note that the Rambam's explanation is harmonious with the subject at hand. The Gemara was discussing R' Elazar ben Azaryah's qualifications for being appointed as nassi and the Mishnah was emphasizing R' Elazar ben Azaryah's superb chochmah. The Rambam's explanation - namely, that R' Elazar ben Azaryah devoted many years to intensive learning - completes the picture that these two sources aimed to paint. (Perhaps this also explains the strange detail added by the Gemara: that R' Elazar ben Azaryah was 18 years old, and 18 rows of hairs on his beard turned white - as if to say that he had fully devoted his number of years on this earth to perfecting his chochmah).

So next time you encounter a "miracle story" in the Talmud or midrashim, be sure to think twice. The words of Chazal are not always what they appear to be on the surface.

[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Berachos 1:9

[2] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 1:7

[3] Rabbeinu Avraham ben ha'Rambam, Essay on Aggadah

[4] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderet (Rashba), Commentary on the Aggadic portion of Berachos 54b

[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Treatise on the Resurrection of the Dead

Parashas Vaeschanan: The Place of the Proof of Torah mi'Sinai

This dvar Torah looks like it was inspired by the parashas ha'shavua, when in actuality, it was inspired by the fact that I am going over the proof of Torah mi'Sinai with a student, and have been thinking about the role that it plays, and ought to play. 

Disclaimer: Unlike most of my blog posts, in which I make every effort to explain everything so that every reader can follow every step, this post will assume that the reader is familiar with the proof of Torah mi'Sinai. If you are not familiar with the proof, then you might not be able to follow this post. I have included links to three presentations of this proof within the post. I encourage you to check them out, whether or not you read this post.

Parashas Vaeschanan: The Place of the Proof of Torah mi'Sinai

In this week's parashah Moshe Rabbeinu urges the generation that is about to enter Eretz Yisrael not to forget about what they and their ancestors witnessed at Maamad Har Sinai (the Revelation at Sinai): 

Only beware for yourself and greatly beware for your soul, lest you forget the things that your eyes have beheld and lest you remove them from your hear all the days of your life, and make them known to your children and your children's children - the day that you stood before Hashem, your God, at Horeb, when Hashem said to me, "Gather the people to Me and I shall let them hear My words, so that they shall learn to fear Me all the days that they live on the earth, and they shall teach their children." 

So you approached and stood at the foot of the mountain, and the mountain was burning with fire up to the heart of heaven, darkness, cloud, and thick cloud. Hashem spoke to you from the midst of the fire; you were hearing the sound of words, but you were not seeing a form, only a sound. He told you of His covenant that He commanded you to observe, the Ten Declarations, and He inscribed them on two stone Tablets. Hashem commanded me at that time to teach you decrees and ordinances, that you shall perform them in the Land to which you cross, to possess it ... 

For inquire now regarding the early days that preceded you, from the day when Hashem created man on the earth, and from one end of heaven to the other end of heaven: Has there ever been anything like this great thing or has anything like it been heard? Has a people ever heard the voice of God speaking from the midst of the fire as you have heard and survived? Or has any god ever miraculously come to take for himself a nation from amidst a nation, with challenges, with sings, and with wonders, and with war, and with a strong hand, and with an outstretched arm, and with greatly awesome deeds, such as everything that Hashem, your God, did for you in Egypt before your eyes? 

You have been shown in order to know that Hashem, He is the God! There is none beside Him! From heaven He caused you to hear His voice in order to teach you, and on earth He showed you His great fire, and you heard His words from the midst of the fire, because He loved your forefathers, and He chose his offspring after him, and took you out before Himself with His great strength from Egypt; to drive away before you nations that are greater and mightier than you, to bring you, to give you their land as an inheritance, as this very day. You shall know this day and take to your heart that Hashem, He is the God - in heaven above and on the earth below - there is none other. You shall observe His decrees and His commandments that I command you this day, so that He will do good to you and to your children after you, and so that you will prolong your days on the Land that Hashem, your God, gives you, for all the days.

Why did Hashem reveal Himself through such a momentous, public spectacle, and why did Moshe Rabbeinu see fit to exhort Bnei Yisrael to teach their children about the revelation? The answer is explicitly stated prior to the Torah's initial account of this event. Although Bnei Yisrael "believed in Hashem and in [the word of] Moshe, His servant" (Shemos 14:31) after Moshe took them out of Egypt, he was still concerned that they didn't fully believe in his prophecy. In response to this concern, Hashem promised Moshe that the Revelation at Sinai would remove any doubt about the legitimacy of his prophecy:

Hashem said to Moshe, "Behold! I will come to you in the thickness of the cloud, so that the people will hear as I speak to you, and they will also believe in you forever" (ibid. 19:9).

In other words, the primary purpose of Maamad Har Sinai was to establish nevuas Moshe (Mosaic prophecy) as authentic, thereby proving the Divine Authorship of the Torah. 

If this sounds like a big deal, that's because it is. The Rambam cites the "proof of Torah mi'Sinai" as the basis for our belief in nevuas Moshe, and our rejection of any other prophet. [1] The Ramban maintains that the Torah obligates us to teach this proof to our children. The Kuzari wrote at length about this topic - so much so, that this proof is often referred to as "the Kuzari principle." Contemporary authors have also written presentations of this proof. In my opinion, the best presentations are:

• Torah from Sinai
• Living Up to the Truth: Chapter 6
• A Rational Argument for the Divine Origin of Torah

Much ink has been spilled about the validity of this "proof" (or "rational demonstration," to be more accurate). Some maintain that is valid; others disagree. This discussion is beyond the scope of this blog post. 

Suffice it to say, my position is that this proof is valid, and is compelling to those who understand it. Be that as it may, I have grown increasingly doubtful as to how prominent of a role it should play in Jewish education. 

When I converted to Judaism and began my Jewish education in 11th grade, my Mishlei rebbi was of the opinion that it was essential for all students to be taught the proof of Torah mi'Sinai as the foundation of their Judaism. He taught it to my class, and I gained tremendously from it. When I started teaching, I took the same stance - both because this was the way that I had been taught, and because it seemed to me that it is impossible to have true emunah (conviction) in the Divine Authorship of Torah without it.

But over time, my Mishlei rebbi changed his tune. He argued that although the proof might be convincing on an intellectual level, it is unlikely to actually change any student's mind. Since the proof hinges on a clear categorization of how people assess secondhand knowledge, and since most people don't think in these terms (and don't rigorously analyze secondhand knowledge before accepting it), then this proof will not be real to the average student's mind, and will not affect him or her on an emotional level. 

When I first heard my rebbi express this objection, I disagreed. I dismissed his opinion as overly pessimistic, and chalked it up to the dim view of human nature that he has been trending towards over the past ten years. 

But the more experience I have had teaching this proof to students, the more I am inclined to agree with my rebbi. Although I have had some students who claim that Torah mi'Sinai changed their lives, this is definitely not the norm. Most students have never even been exposed to a philosophical proof, so the whole exercise feels artificial to them. Others have a difficult time thinking about hypothetical scenarios, which interferes with their ability to follow the proof. Many high school students are poor judges of how plausible or implausible a hypothetical scenario is, which leads them to lend undue weight to unlikely possibilities. And some students just don't have the patience to work through each step of the proof and get each step clear. 

The biggest problem with the proof is that at the end of the day, most people just aren't motivated by logical arguments. Even students who accept the proof and have no objections tend to go about their lives in the same manner as they did before they heard the proof. It simply doesn't affect them.

Being that this has been my experience, I find myself wondering: Is there a benefit in teaching the proof of Torah mi'Sinai? If so, what is that benefit?

As present, I believe that there are two benefits which make Torah mi'Sinai worth teaching, despite these difficulties. The most important reason for teaching Torah mi'Sinai to students is to show them that Judaism is fundamentally different from other religions. Whereas other religions demand blind faith, Judaism demands proof. It was not enough for Bnei Yisrael to merely have faith in Moshe's prophecy; they needed proof, and so should we. The Rashba identifies this need for proof as a hallmark of our nation:

Yisrael are the inheritors of the true religion; they are the children of Yaakov, the man of truth; they are all offspring of truth who are willing to endure the yoke of exile and that which befalls them, rather than to believe anything until after they have subjected it to intensive analysis - analysis after analysis - in order to remove all impurities from that which is said to them … Even the Jews who were enslaved with the harshest labor doubted Moshe when Moshe was commanded to bring them good news [of their imminent redemption]; in spite of this, he said, “They will not believe me,” and it was necessary for him to bring many signs [of his prophecy]. This is the true sign of our nation, the Nation of Hashem: that we do not allow ourselves to be seduced by anything until after we have arrived at its truth by way of intensive, complete analysis.

Even if students aren't moved or motivated by the proof, it is important for them to know that Judaism claims something that no other religion claims, namely, that our God spoke to our prophet in front of the entire nation, leaving no room to doubt the legitimacy of his prophecy. 

The second benefit of the proof of Torah mi'Sinai is that it takes away the excuse of "Judaism has no basis." There are many Jews who justify their turning away from Judaism by telling themselves that the whole religion is baseless. I believe that it is important to at least attempt to show these Jews that this assumption is false. Of course, not everyone will heed this point, but those who understand the proof and are intellectually honest will be forced to confront the fact that their excuse for abandoning Judaism isn't valid. Even if the proof doesn't emotionally motivate them to embrace Judaism, at least it will negate the intellectual basis of their rejection of Judaism.

That is where I stand, as of now. I suspect that my view will continue to change the more I teach and review the proof of Torah mi'Sinai. I would love to hear your thoughts on this topic!

[1] See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah Chapter 8. The secondary purpose of Maamad Har Sinai is to prevent people from being taken in by a navi sheker (false prophet), as the Torah states in Parashas Re'eh:

The entire word that I command you, that you shall observe to do; you shall not add to it and you shall not subtract from it. If there should stand up in your midst a prophet or a dreamer of a dream, and he will produce to you a sign or a wonder, and the sign or the wonder comes about of which he spoke to you, saying: "Let us follow gods of others that you did not know and we shall worship them!" - do not hearken to the words of that prophet or to that dreamer of a dream, for Hashem, your God, is testing you to know whether you love Hashem, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul. Hashem, your God, you shall follow and Him shall you fear; His commandments you shall observe and to His voice shall you hearken; Him shall you serve and to Him shall you cleave. And that prophet and that dreamer of a dream shall be put to death, for he had spoken perversion against Hashem, your God - Who takes you out of the land of Egypt, and Who redeems you from the house of slavery - to make you stray from the path on which Hashem, your God, has commanded you to go; and you shall destroy the evil from your midst (Devarim 13:2-6)

We do not believe in Moshe Rabbeinu's nevuah (prophecy) because of the miracles he did. We only believe in it because of Maamad Har Sinai. Furthermore, we only believe the nevuah of another (alleged) navi based on the criteria outlined by Moshe Rabbeinu in the Torah. Thus, if someone else comes along, performs miracles, and claims to speak words of prophecy which contradict the Torah of Moshe, then we know that this prophet is a navi sheker. 

I am including this in a footnote because it is implicit in the primary purpose of Torah, but is worthwhile to mention as a separate point nonetheless.

[2] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderes (Rasha), Shailos u'Tshuvos 1:548

Parashas Beshalach: Singing Fetuses

Originally posted in January 2014.

Artwork: Abstract Pregnant Woman
(Yes, it's difficult to find artwork for this topic which is in line with the standards of tznius.)

Parashas Beshalach: Singing Fetuses

The central event of Parashas Beshalach is Krias Yam Suf (the Splitting of the Sea of Reeds). Although the Chumash itself highlights the miracle of the sea splitting, we have a mesorah (tradition) that Hashem performed additional miracles at this time. The mishnah in Pirkei Avos (5:4) teaches: “Ten miracles were performed for our forefathers in Egypt, and ten at the sea.” The author of the Hagadah shel Pesach brings down a machlokes (disagreement) among the Sages as to the number of additional plagues that struck the Egyptians at the sea, whether it was 50, 200, or 250. The identity of these additional miracles and plagues is not entirely clear, but there was definitely more going on than the pesukim seem to indicate.

The midrashic literature attempts to fill in the gaps. Here is one such midrash from Berachos 50a: 

Rebbi Meir says: From where do we know that even fetuses in their mothers’ wombs said [the] shirah (i.e. the song of praise at Yam Suf)? As it is stated, “In assemblies bless God; [bless] God, O you who stem from the fountain (mekor) of Israel” (Tehilim 68:27). 

“Mekor” is an equivocal term which means “fountain” in the context of the pasuk, but can also mean “womb.” Rebbi Meir expounds on this dual-meaning to teach that the fetuses in the wombs of the Jewish mothers at Yam Suf sang shirah, along with the rest of Bnei Yisrael.

There are obvious problems with taking this midrash literally. Fetuses in their mothers’ wombs wouldn't have been aware of the miracle, nor would they be able to comprehend it, nor would they be able to sing shirah. The question is: What does this midrash mean? What idea are we supposed to gain from this?

The Rashba – one of the the most prolific Rishonim (medieval Rabbinic authorities) of the 13th century – wrote a commentary on the midrashim of the Talmud. Here is how he explains our midrash [1]: 

It is a well-known fact that pregnant women are prone to miscarry when they undergo frightening and traumatic experiences. When the Jews stood at Yam Suf, with the Egyptians were chasing after them to kill them, they were very scared. And when the sea was split for them and they needed to pass through its breaches, nature would dictate that the pregnant women among them would miscarry, were it not for the miracle He performed for them by strengthening their hearts, thereby saving all of the fetuses so that not a single one of them died, even though the nation was more than 600,000 men strong. This is the shirah that the fetuses said. In other words, it would have been appropriate for them to say shirah and to [sing] praise before Him for their salvation. 

This, in my opinion, is a great example of interpreting a midrash in a manner that is rational, conservative, and in line with the pasuk on which the midrash is based. The Rashba doesn’t interpret the whole thing as an allegory. He only makes one move: instead of saying that the fetuses actually said shirah, he explains that it would have been appropriate for them to say shirah. He then infers what type of miracle would warrant such a shirah, and in doing so, brings out an easy-to-overlook aspect of the geulah which warrants our recognition and appreciation. Not only did Hashem miraculously save the adults and children of Bnei Yisrael from death at the hands of the Egyptians, but He also spared the Jewish women from undue distress, thereby saving the about-to-be-born generation by means of an additional miracle. 

[1] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderet (Rashba), Chidushei ha’Rashba al ha’Shas: Peirushei ha’Hagados, Berachos 50a

Midrash Methodology: Clash of the Titans (Og vs. Moshe)

Originally posted in January 2012.

Artwork: Bearer of the Heavens, by Ryan Alexander Lee

Introduction

There are certain aggados and midrashim which enjoy tremendous popularity, for better or for worse. One of these well-known aggados depicts an epic battle between a giant Og, King of Bashan, and Moshe Rabbeinu, who - according to the literal reading of the text - was also a giant. Here is the text of that aggadah in full, as stated in Berachos 54b:

[Og, the King of Bashan,] said: How large is the camp of Israel? Three parasangs (approximately eight miles). I will go and uproot a mountain of the size of three parasangs and cast it upon them and kill them. He went and uprooted a mountain of the size of three parasangs and carried it on his head. But Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu sent grasshoppers which bored a hole in it, so that it sank around his neck. He tried to pull it off, but his teeth projected on each side, and he could not pull it off. This is referred to in the text, “You have broken the teeth of the wicked” (Tehilim 3:8), as explained by Reish Lakish, for Reish Lakish said: What is the meaning of the text, “You have broken the teeth of the wicked”? Do not read, “shibarta” (“You have broken”) but “shirvavta” (“You have elongated”). Moses was ten cubits tall (approximately 18 feet). He took an axe ten cubits long, leapt ten cubits into the air, and struck him on his ankle and killed him.

Pretty wild-sounding, eh? Thankfully, we can enlist the aid of the Rashba - a preeminent Rishon who wrote an extensive commentary on dozens of Talmudic midreshei aggadah, including this one. Our goal in this post will be two-fold: (1) to understand the Rashba's explanation of this midrash, and (2) to glean several principles of methodology which we can apply when learning other aggados and midrashim.

Methodology Principle #1: Deceptively Simple Midrashim

The Rashba prefaces his explanation of our aggadah as follows:

First I will make a statement about the aggados which can be found in the Talmud and in the midrashim. Know that some aggados are written in a deep language for many reasons. Sometimes you will find that the Sages alluded to an exceedingly simple idea or unnecessary idea, but nevertheless expressed it in a strange and very deep language, causing the onlooker to think that it contains an esoteric concept or a matter that was necessary to conceal, when this is not the case. 

The Rashba then goes on to list three reasons why Chazal would go out of their way to express "exceedingly simple ideas" in such cryptic language. I would cite this portion of the Rashba, but I fear it would take us on a tangent. We'll save that discussion for another time.

The Rashba concludes by translating his point into practical terms:

Therefore, when you find me explaining the words of an aggadah and you think that it must be expressing an abstract idea - due to its subtle language and cryptic formulation - and yet, I explain that it comes to teach very simple concepts, do not dogmatically assert that it is impossible for Chazal to conceal such a simple idea in such language, for I have already shown you this feature of their style in aggados.

The methodology principle we gain from this may be stated as follows: Just because a midrash looks like it contains a deep idea doesn't necessarily mean that it actually contains a deep idea. It is entirely possible that a subtly or fantastically worded midrash contains nothing but "an exceedingly simple or unnecessary idea." 

(Note: This is a perfect example of why it is so important to learn midrashim under the guidance of the Rishonim. I would never be able to learn enough midrashim to arrive at such a conclusion._

Methodology Principle #2: Allegorical Fluency

The Rashba then explains that in order to "decode" our midrash, we need to be familiar with certain facts and mashalim (metaphors) from two other sources. The first is another midrash about Og, found in Niddah 61a (note that Rashba's version of the text is slightly different than ours): 

“And Hashem said to Moshe: ‘Do not fear him [i.e. Og, King of Bashan]!’” (Bamidbar 21:34). Considering the fact that Sihon and Og were brothers, why was it that Moshe feared Og while he did not fear Sichon? From the answer that was given by Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu, you may recognize what was in the mind of that tzadik (i.e. Moshe); this teaches that Moshe was afraid that perhaps the merit of Avraham would stand by for Og, as it is stated, “And there came the one that had escaped and told Avram the Hebrew” (Bereishis 14:13), and Mar said: “This refers to Og, who escaped from the Flood.” Hashem said to Moshe: “Do not fear him, for I have given him over to your hand.” 

Og earned a zechus (merit) for informing Avraham that Lot was being held captive. This, in turn, prompted Avraham to go on a rescue mission which proved successful. Moshe was afraid that the hashgachah (Divine providence) would protect Og on account of this zechus. Hashem reassured Moshe that there was nothing to fear.

The second source we need to be familiar with is the allegorical language used by the Neviim in reference to the Avos. For example, the Navi says, "Arise and contend before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice!" (Michah 6:1). According to the Rashba, the Navi is exhorting to Bnei Yisrael to learn from Avraham, as it is stated, "Look to the rock from which you were hewn, and at the hollow of the pit from which you were dug; look to Avraham your forefather and to Sarah who bore you" (Yishaya 51:1-2). According to the Rashba, the depiction of Avos as mountains is used throughout Tanach and the words of Chazal.

The methodology principle we gain from this may be stated as follows: Do not assume that a midrash or aggadah is "self-contained," for it may require familiarity with other sources in order to decode its meaning.

The Main Idea of Our Aggadah

With these two keys in hand, the Rashba commences his explanation of our aggadah:

Therefore, Moshe was afraid that the zechus of Avraham would stand by for Og - and this is the very thought that Og had. He said: "Since this nation - in spite of its massive camp which spans three parasangs - is only powerful on account of the zechus of their forefather [Avraham], and since I preceded them in [my] zechus of Avraham, therefore I will be able to uproot that 'mountain' (i.e. the zechus of Avraham which protected Bnei Yisrael) from them and I will be assisted [by the hashgachah] in overturning it upon them."

In other words, there was no actual mountain. Rather, the "mountain" Og sought to overturn is a mashal for the zechus of Avraham which protected Bnei Yisrael. Og believed he could overcome the zechus of Bnei Yisrael due to his own zechus of Avraham.

The Rashba continues his explanation:

The "grasshoppers" that came and bored a hole in the mountain is a mashal for the Jews, who - like grasshoppers - had their power in their tongues, as the midrash states: "'[Now the congregation will lick up our entire surroundings,] as an ox licks up the greenery of the field' (Bamidbar 22:4) - just as an ox's power is in its tongue, so too, the power of the Jews is in their tongue" (Tanchuma: Balak 3). This means to say that through the prayers and supplications of the Jews, the zechus of Avraham their forefather will remain with them and will not assist Og; instead, it will overturn his zechus upon him - as represented by the mountain falling around his neck and breaking his teeth.

As we know from the tefilos of Rosh ha'Shanah and Yom ha'Kippurim, "Teshuvah, tefilah, and tzedakah can tear up the bad decree." Even if Og had zechus from Avraham which would have aided him, the tefilos of the Jews would overturn his zechus and foil his plans. (Once again, we see that the decoding of this aggadah requires familiarity with the allegorical language from another source: the Midrash Tanchuma.)

The Rashba continues:

Due to the fact that Og was a powerful king and was naturally strong, the Jews would not have been able to withstand him - all the more so, since the zechus of Avraham would have made it impossible for the Jews to approach him. It was therefore necessary for Moshe [to invoke] in his tefilah his own zechus, and the zechus of the the Twelve Tribes, and the zechus of all the Avos - namely, Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. This is what was meant by the statement: "Moshe was ten cubits tall. He took a ten cubit axe and leapt ten cubits into the air." In other words, "Moshe was ten cubits tall" refers to his own zechus. The "axe" that he took is an allusion to the nation as a whole, who was there with him; since they were there with him, they are metaphorically depicted as a tool in his hand which he could use. "He leapt ten cubits into the air" refers to the zechus of the Avos (peace be upon them); therefore, Moshe is metaphorically depicted as someone who leaps upwards, since he needed to "jump up" to the zechus of the Avos, who lived at an earlier time in history. And afterwards it explains why all of this was necessary: "to strike Og on his ankle," namely, to nullify the zechus he had earned by taking steps - using his ankles - for the sake of Avraham.

Apparently, even though Og was not by any means a tzadik, his zechus from Avraham was sufficient to grant him hashgachic protection from Bnei Yisrael to the extent that Moshe needed to combine his own zechus with the zechus of Bnei Yisrael, the zechus of all the Avos, and the zechus of tefilah in order to nullify Og's zechus.

I sense that there is a lot to be learned from here about how hashgachah works. Many of us would probably feel safe placing our bets on Bnei Yisrael's zechus beating any zechus that Og might have earned - and yet, Moshe Rabbeinu was apprehensive, and he knew WAY more about hashgachah than we do. If there is one thing I have learned from this aggadah, it's that I know even less about the workings of hashgachah than I did before I learned this aggadah!

Methodology Principle #3: Detail for the Sake of Detail

Rashba then explains the significance of the "ten cubits":

They said "Moshe was ten cubits tall" because this was Moshe Rabbeinu's height, as mentioned in Shabbos (92a). For this reason, all of the measurements were listed as ten - not because all of the measurements were necessary, but only for the sake of the allegory, for Og is allegorically depicted as having an incredibly large stature to such a degree that he was able to uproot a mountain measuring three parasangs in length and to carry it on his head. Therefore, the height of his ankle is allegorically depicted as thirty cubits - for such is the style of allegories, to incorporate particulars which fit nicely into the allegory intended by the pesukim or the Sages. Likewise, "He went and uprooted a mountain of the size of three parasangs and carried it on his head" - all of these matters [were incorporated because they] nicely fit into the structure of the allegory, and not for any other reason.

Here the Rashba gives us another important methodology principle for interpreting midrashim: In some cases the nuances of a midrash have ideational content and significance, but in other cases, the details are just included for the sake of completing and beautifying the allegory.

The Rambam mentions the same principle in his introduction to the Moreh ha'Nevuchim:

You must well understand what I have said, for it is a principle of the utmost importance with respect to those things which I intend to expound. If you observe in one of the chapters that I explained the meaning of a certain allegory and pointed out to you its general scope, do not trouble yourself further in order to find an interpretation of each separate particular, for that would lead you to one of the two following erroneous courses: either you will miss the sense included in the metaphor, or you will be induced to explain certain things which require no explanation, and which are not introduced for that purpose. Through this unnecessary trouble you may fall into the great error which besets most modern sects in their foolish writings and discussions: they all endeavor to find some hidden meaning in expressions which were never uttered by the author in that sense. Your goal should be to discover in most of the allegories the general idea which the author wishes to express.

Presumably, the more one learns, the better intuition one develops for discerning whether an allegorical detail has ideational significance or whether it's just there as filler.

(Incidentally, I have a hard time believing that Moshe Rabbeinu was actually ten cubits tall, in spite of what the Gemara in Shabbos 92a says. That Gemara must either be another metaphor or it must be hyperbole.)

Summary

Thanks to the Rashba, we have learned three methodological principles from this aggadah: 

1. Do not assume that every aggadah contains a deep idea, despite its cryptic formulation; it may be that the idea is "simple or unnecessary," but Chazal nevertheless expressed it in a complex manner. 
2. Do not assume that every aggadah can be interpreted on its own; it may be that in order to decode an aggadah, one must be familiar with ideas, facts, or metaphors from other sources in Tanach or Chazal. 
3. Do not assume that every detail of the aggadah contains ideas; it may be that the details and nuances were included solely for the purpose of beautifying or completing the allegory. 

We also learned a valuable lesson about how zechus works, namely, a little zechus can go a long way. Og was not a tzadik like Moshe Rabbeinu, nor was he a member of Klal Yisrael - and yet, the zechus he earned by helping Avraham was so great that even Moshe was afraid that he wouldn't be able to defeat him.

Pshat vs. Drash II

Introduction/Recap

In the previous installment on this topic I presented my understanding of the difference between pshat and drash, "Pshat" refers to the meaning of the words as intended by the author, whereas "drash" refers to the homiletic use of the author's words as a platform for expressing an extrinsic idea - an idea which may or may not have anything to do with the author's original intent. I supported these definitions with sources from Ibn Ezra, Ralbag, Radvaz, and Shiltei ha'Giborim.

Subsequent to writing this post, my rebbi introduced me to two more sources which support these definitions: one from the Rashba in his commentary on aggadah, and the other from the Rambam's Moreh ha'Nevuchim. Since both of them make similar points, I decided to incorporate them into a single post.

Rashba: Commentary on Aggadah, Berachos 32b

The Gemara in Berachos 32b focuses on a pasuk in Yeshayahu 49:16. Here is the pasuk (bold) in context:

Zion said, "Hashem has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me." Can a woman forget her baby (עוּלָהּ), or not feel compassion for the son of her womb (מֵרַחֵם בֶּן בִּטְנָהּ)? Even these (אֵלֶּה) may forget, but I (אָנֹכֵי) would not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you upon my palms; your walls are before Me always. Your children will hasten [to return], and your ruiners and your destroyers will leave you.

The Gemara expounds on the four Hebrew words I singled out above:

"Can a woman forget her baby (עוּלָהּ), or not feel compassion for the son of her womb (מֵרַחֵם בֶּן בִּטְנָהּ)?" [Hashem said:] "Can I forget the burnt offerings (עוֹלוֹת) and firstborn offerings (פִּטְרֵי רְחָמִים) that Israel has brought before Me in the Wilderness?"

The Congregation of Israel responded: "Master of the universe, since there is no forgetting before the throne of Your glory, perhaps you have not forgotten the incident of the Eigel (Golden Calf)?"

Hashem responded: "Also these (אֵלֶּה) may forget" (the midrash alludes to the incident of the Golden Calf, in which the worshipers said, "These (אֵלֶּה) are your gods, O Israel, who took you out from Egypt!"). 

Israel said before Him: "Since there is forgetfulness before the throne of Your glory, perhaps You have forgotten the Revelation at Mount Sinai?"

Hashem responded: "but I (אָנֹכֵי) would not forget you" (the midrash alludes to the first of the Ten Commandments heard at Sinai, "I (אָנֹכֵי) am Hashem, your God, etc.").

The Rashba prefaces his commentary with a general statement about midrashim.

There are those who mistakenly think that Chazal are actually interpreting the pesukim which are brought in their aggadah, in accordance with their explanations therein. For example, they explain עוּלָהּ (baby) as עוֹלָה (burnt offering), and they explain בֶּן בִּטְנָהּ (son of her womb) as פֶּטֶר רֶחֶם הַבָּא מִן הַבֶּטֶן (a firstborn issue of the the womb), and they explain אֵלֶּה (these) as אֵלֶּה אֱלֹהֶיךָ יִשְׂרָאֵל ("these are your gods, O Israel") and אָנֹכֵי (I) as אָנֹכִי ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ ("I am Hashem, your God"). This leads to mass confusion.

These [mistaken individuals] can be divided into two groups. One group is inclined towards [belief in] the opinions of Chazal and rely upon everything they say; they think that [these midrashim reflect] the true interpretations of these pesukim, since that is how the Sages present them. Another group mistakenly inclines towards kefirah (denial) [of the Chazal's authority]; they think that this was Chazal's intent in explaining these pesukim, and they ascribe error to them. This, in turn, leads to a greater mistake, for they then ascribe error to everything that Chazal taught in their explanation of the Torah and mitzvos. These are true fools - "the opposite of men of understanding" (Yeshayahu 5:21). In order to remove these two errors, I must provide insight and explain their intent in all matters such as these. 

The Rashba then goes on to give a beautiful explanation of the true meaning of the midrash (which we will omit here for the sake of brevity). He concludes by explaining why Chazal adopted this approach in their aggadah:

This is one style in aggadah, namely, that [the Sages] teach whatever it is they intend to teach, and they bring pesukim for their idea as if their intention is to interpret that pasuk in accordance with what they taught - but in truth, [the pasuk] only serves as an allusion and a mnemonic device for their own idea. 

For example, [they midrashically explain the pasuk, "וַנִּירָם אָבַד חֶשְׁבּוֹן עַד דִּיבֹן" "Their sovereignty over Cheshbon was lost" (Bamidbar 21:30) in the following manner:] "וַנִּירָם" teaches us that the wicked one says, "אין רם" (there is no Exalted One); "אָבַד חֶשְׁבּוֹן" means "אבד חשבונו של עולם" (the accounting of the world has been lost). 

In truth, the Sages had no intention to interpret these pesukim - which speak about the events of the war with Sichon - as speaking about the words, actions, and thoughts of the wicked; rather, their intention in this [midrash] and others like it is to remember the idea by remembering the pasuk, as a mnemonic device. This shows wisdom on their part, for they take important and necessary ideas which have tremendous value and firmly establish them in a language which will not be forgotten (i.e. the text of pesukim).

I'm going to hold off my comments on the Rashba until after we see the Rambam, since their statements are so similar. 

Rambam: Moreh ha'Nevuchim 3:43

The final section of the Moreh ha'Nevuchim is devoted to the explanations of the reasons for the mitzvos. Before presenting his own explanation of the mitzvah of the arbaat ha'minim (the Four Species), the Rambam addresses the popular midrashic explanations. Presumably, he is referring to the midrash that the arbaat ha'minim represent the four different types of Jews, and the midrash that the arbaat ha'minim symbolize four parts of the human body which should be utilized in our service of Hashem. Here is what the Rambam has to say:

As regards the arbah minim, our Sages gave specific reasons for them by way of aggadic interpretation, the method of which is well known to those who are acquainted with the style of our Sages. They use the text of the Torah only as a kind of poetical expression [for their own ideas] – not that these are the actual meaning of the text.  

With regards to these midrashic interpretations, people are divided into two groups: some people think that the midrash contains the real explanation of the text, whilst others mock it and ridicule it, since it is clear and obvious that this is not the real meaning of the text. The former struggle and fight to prove and to confirm such interpretations according to their opinion, and to hold on to them as the real meaning of the text; they consider them in the same light as the received laws from the Oral tradition. Neither of the two classes understood that our Sages employ biblical texts merely as poetical expressions, the meaning of which is clear to every reasonable reader. This style was widespread in ancient days; all adopted it in the same way as poets [adopt a certain popular style].  

In reference to the words: “and you shall have a peg (יָתֵד) in addition to your weapon (אֲזֵנֶךָ)” (Devarim 23:14) our Sages teach: “Do not read אֲזֵנֶךָ (your weapon) but אָזְנֶךָ (your ear). You are thus told, that if you hear a person uttering something disgraceful, put your fingers into your ears.”  

Now, I wonder whether those ignorant persons [who take the midrashic explanations as actual interpretations] believe that the author of this saying gave it as the true interpretation of the text quoted and as the meaning of this mitzvah – that in truth, יָתֵד (peg) is used for “finger” and אֲזֵנֶךָ denotes “your ear”? I cannot think that any person whose intellect is sound can admit this. The author employed the text as a beautiful poetical phrase in teaching an excellent moral lesson, namely this: it is as bad to listen to lashon ha’ra as it is to say it. This lesson is poetically connected with the above text. In the same sense you must understand the phrase, "Do not read so, but so," wherever it occurs in the midrash.

According to the Rambam, the midrashic explanations of the symbolism of the arbaat ha'minim were never intended as interpretations of the pesukim or the mitzvos contained therein - just as the midrash about the shovel was never intended as an interpretation of the pasuk in Devarim. Nevertheless, people still take these midrashim as actual interpretations - both l'shvach (to praise Chazal) and l'gnai (to disparage them).

Artwork: Corrupted Roots, by Mark Hyzer

The Root of the Problem

The Rambam mentioned the common denominator between the two groups: both of them fail to realize that Chazal were using the text of the pesukim as a poetic and mnemonic device to express their own ideas. But my rebbi asked a further question: What is the root of their error? The Rambam and Rashba paint a clear picture of the symptoms, but what is the underlying disease?

I answered my rebbi's question based on the Rambam's statement about the first group: "they consider [these aggadic explanations] in the same light as the received laws from the Oral tradition." In other words, both groups fail to realize that aggadic midrashim are entirely different than the halachos of Torah she'baal Peh. These groups believe that just as we are obligated to accept the mesorah (oral tradition) from Chazal that "an eye for an eye" refers to monetary compensation rather than corporal punishment, and "pri eitz hadar" refers to an esrog, and "ve'hayu l'totafos bein einecha" is an instruction to place tefilin on one's forehead above the spot between one's eyes, so too, we are obligated to accept Chazal's statements at face value when they write that R' Elazar ben Azariah miraculously grew a white beard at the age of 18, or that Yocheved was 130 when she gave birth to Moshe, or that Moshe Rabbeinu was 18 feet tall. Both of these groups are oblivious to the crucial premise of all aggadic teachings, namely, that they were not given at Sinai, but that they are Chazal's own interpretations, which they arrived at with their own minds and formulated in their own style.

Every student should be aware of Shmuel ha'Nagid's explicit definition of aggadah in his Mevo ha'Talmud:

“Hagadah” (a.k.a. “aggadah” or “aggadic midrash”) is any explanation from the Talmud on a non-mitzvah topic - this is hagadah, and we only learn from it that which makes sense. It is incumbent upon you to know that established by the Sages as halacha regarding any mitzvah was received by Moshe Rabbeinu who received it from the Almighty, and we should not add to it nor subtract from it. But as for all of the explanations of the Scriptural verses - each of the Sages explained according to the ideas which occurred to him and what he saw with his mind. We should only learn from these explanations that which makes sense, and the rest we should not rely upon.

The members of the first group feel compelled to accept aggadic explanations in the same way that they accept Chazal's halachic teachings from Torah she'baal Peh, whereas the second group reject aggadic explanations and ultimately reject Chazal's halachic teachings from Torah she'baal Peh. Both groups assume that these teachings are of the same nature, in the same style (i.e. interpretation), and are on the same level of authority. In truth, they are not. I fully agree with Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch's statement that to believe that aggadah was given at Sinai is "a dangerous approach that poses a grave danger for the pupils who grow up believing this concept, for it very nearly opens the gates of heresy before them."

My rebbi gave a different answer. He said that the underlying disease shared by the two groups is a mistake about who Chazal are, namely, both groups believe that Chazal were not chachamim. The Rambam openly states in his introduction to Perek Chelek that the members of the first group "think that the only meaning in the wise words of Chazal is what they, themselves, understand – namely, the literal meaning." It doesn't even occur to them that Chazal are expressing great wisdom which is utterly beyond their own grasp. Consequently, they drag down the words of Chazal to the low level of their own intellects, and assume that this is what Chazal actually intended. Likewise, the Rambam writes that the members of the second group "imagine that their own intelligence is of a higher order than that of Chazal, and that Chazal were simpletons who suffered from inferior intelligence were incapable of attaining genuine wisdom." Their arrogance (in contrast to the first group) renders them even more unlikely to uncover the true wisdom of Chazal's teachings.

Neither group recognizes the chochmah of Chazal. Both groups view Chazal as possessing inferior intelligence. This causes them regard the statements of Chazal as simplistic and superficial. The members of the first group delight in this since it allows them to retain their own childish beliefs about Torah and reality, and the members of the second group enjoy mocking Chazal, rejecting their teachings, and rationalizing their own inclinations and ideas on the basis of their "superior" intelligence.

Unfortunately, these two groups are still at large, and the Jewish world is still plagued by the problems they cause. The best we can do is to turn to Rishonim, such as the Rashba and the Rambam, who truly understood Judaism, and look to them as our guides.

Pshat vs. Drash I

Originally posted in January 2012.

Artwork: Foresee, by Ron Spears

Pshat vs. Drash I

The terms "pshat" and "drash" are frequently used, but seldom defined. To my mind, the key to understanding the difference between pshat and drash lies in a principle explained by the Ibn Ezra in his introduction to the Aseres ha'Dibros (Shemos 20:1):

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 to the soul is like a vessel. Therefore, the general rule of all wise men in any language is to preserve the meanings without regard to a change of words, so long as the meanings remain the same.

The Ibn Ezra's message is clear: there are words and there are meanings. Words are merely the vehicle through which meanings are conveyed. For this reason, the same meaning can be communicated through different words or different combinations of words.

In light of the Ibn Ezra's distinction, we can now propose a working definition of the difference between pshat and drash: 

• To "give the pshat of a pasuk" is to uncover the meaning of the pasuk as intended by its author (i.e. Hashem, in the case of the Chumash, or the Neviim in the case of Nach).
• To "give a drash on a pasuk" or to "darshin a pasuk" is to use the words of that pasuk as a platform to express an extrinsic idea; by "extrinsic idea" I mean an idea which was not intended by the author, and which may or may not bear any relation to the pshat of the pasuk. 

The Ralbag (Introduction to Shir ha'Shirim) expresses this distinction very clearly in his critique of commentaries which consist largely or exclusively of midrashic material:

[We] have seen that all the commentaries which our predecessors have made upon it and which have reached us adopt the midrashic approach, including interpretations which are the opposite of what was intended by the author of Shir ha'Shirim. These midrashic explanations, even though they are good in and of themselves, ought not to be applied as explanations of the things upon which they are said midrashically. For this reason one who wishes to explain these and similar things ought not to apply to them the midrashic explanations regarding them; rather, he should endeavor to explain them according to their intention.

A simple litmus test can be used to figure out whether a statement of Chazal was intended as pshat or as drash. This litmus test can be expressed in the form of the following question: "Is this idea in the words or on the words?" To say that the idea is "in the words" means that it is a faithful restatement of the meaning intended by the author. To say that the idea is "on the words" means that the darshan (i.e. the originator of the drash) has used the author's words as a springboard for his own idea - an idea which might shed light on the pshat of the pasuk, or might have absolutely nothing to do with the pshat.

Some examples will help to illustrate the difference between pshat and drash. The Radvaz (Shailos u'Teshuvos 3:643) explains that the Torah was written without nekudos (vowels) in order to maximize the potential for drash; the example he cites serves as an excellent model for all drash:

Know that vowelization is like a form and soul to the letters. Therefore, the Sefer Torah is made without vowels, in order that it encompass all of the panim (facets) and deep ways, and all of them can be expounded using each and every letter ... If we were to vowelize the Sefer Torah, it would have a limit and a finite measure, like a material which has been endowed with a particular form, and it would not be possible for it to be expounded except in accordance with the particular vowelization of that word. But because all types of perfections are incorporated and mixed into the Sefer Torah, and each and every word is a hook for thousands upon thousands [of ideas], we do not make it vowelized in order that all of these perfections can be expounded by way of drash.

Therefore, Chazal say, “Do not read such-and-such, rather such-and such” - and if [the vowelization] were specific, we wouldn't be able to say this. Chazal were moved by this in many places by way of superior drash. [For example,] “You shall have a yased (shovel) in addition to your azeinecha (weapons)” (Devarim 23:14). [Chazal expound by way of drash,] “Do not read ‘azeinecha’ (your weapons), but rather ‘oznecha’ (your ears) – this teaches us that if a person hears something inappropriate, he should put his finger in his ear [like a yased (peg)].

In this place, Chazal have indicated to us the secret reason why the Sefer Torah is not vowelized. The midrash (expounding) of this pasuk was given as bran bread for simpletons, and it was given to the wise as nutritional bread - and all from the pshat of the pasuk. The entire Torah follows this method. Therefore, Chazal said: “shivim panim la’Torah.” Understand this.

It is difficult to dispute the example provided by the Radvaz. Devarim 23:14 is undoubtedly talking about shovels and weapons - not fingers and ears. When Chazal said, "Do not read ‘azeinecha’ (your weapons), but rather ‘oznecha’ (your ears)" they were saying this by way of drash, not pshat. If a person were to actually interpret the word in the pasuk to mean oznecha, he would be missing the pshat - the meaning intended by the Author.

The Shiltei ha'Giborim (on Avodah Zarah daf 6 in the dapei ha'Rif) gives another excellent example which reflects the proper understanding of the distinction between pshat and drash:

There is another category of midrashim in which Chazal aimed to expound the pasuk in accordance with every idea they were able to expound. They relied on that which is written, “One thing God has spoken, these two have I heard” (Tehilim 62:12), and on that which is written, “Behold, My word is like fire etc.” (Yirmiyahu 23:29). They learned from here that many meanings can emerge from one pasuk ... Do not be astounded by this, for we see in many cases that even an ordinary person speaks his words with a double meaning [that can be interpreted] in two ways – all the more so the words of the wise, which were stated with ruach ha’kodesh. In this manner, Chazal expound Scripture in every manner that is possible to expound, but they said, “No pasuk can depart from its pshat,” which is the root. Of all these midrashim which are expounded - some of them are essential and close to the pshat, whereas others contain only a small allusion. 

You can see what was expounded by one of the Sages in the first chapter of Taanis, for he said, “Yaakov Avinu didn't die.” One of the other Sages responded, “Did the eulogists eulogize him in vain? Did the embalmers embalm him in vain? Did the gravediggers bury him in vain?” The first Sage answered back, “Mikra ani doresh (I am merely expounding upon a verse).” This means to say, “I, too, know that he died, but my intention is to expound this verse in every manner that is possible to expound, and if it impossible for the midrash to be in accordance with the [simple] meaning, it nevertheless contains an allusion [to another idea]. For one can say, “he didn't die” along the lines of that which was stated, “Tzadikim, even in death, are [considered] alive” (Berachos 18a) for their reputation, their memory, and their deeds last forever.

Unfortunately, the widespread ignorance of this distinction between pshat and drash has led many people to false and harmful conclusions about Chazal and Torah. The Rashba (commentary on Berachos 32b) writes that "some people are confused because they think that the Sages in their aggados are coming to explain the true meanings of the pesukim" when, in truth, they are only expounding on the words themselves, without intending to uncover the intended meaning of the pesukim. The Rashba goes on to write that as a result of this misunderstanding, certain factions of the population "incline towards heresy, due to their [mistaken] belief that the Sages were actually interpreting these pesukim in an erroneous manner; some are led to an even greater error than this, for they conclude that even Chazal erred in their explanations of the Torah and mitzvos as well."

I have seen with my own eyes that the Rashba is correct. Many of my students were never taught to distinguish between pshat and drash. Consequently, they labored under the impression that Chazal's midrashim were intended to convey the actual meaning of the pesukim. When faced with fantastical or far-fetched drashos, the more rationally inclined students rejected these "interpretations" due to their perceived irrationality. This led them to believe that Chazal were stupid and irrational, which in turn, led them to view the Torah itself as stupid and irrational.

In my opinion, students should be taught from an early age to differentiate between pshat and drash, and this distinction should be continually emphasized throughout their education - especially when learning midrashim or midrashic commentaries on Chumash. Once this distinction has been established as a foundation, students can be introduced to the true beauty of midrashim, as intended by their authors. 

Parashas Balak: On Citing Midrash as Proof

This week's dvar Torah focuses on an important methodological rule of thumb regarding the proper place of aggadic midrashim (i.e. the non-halachic teachings of Chazal). Enjoy! (For those who wanted the type of dvar Torah that can be "said over" at a Shabbos table - sorry for letting you down. This one is more like a regular blog post which happens to utilize something from the parashah.)

Parashas Balak: On Citing Midrash as Proof

"Bilam was as great of a navi (prophet) as Moshe Rabbeinu."

"WHAT?" 

"It's true." 

"Nonsense. The pasuk says, 'Never again has there arisen in Israel a prophet like Moshe, whom Hashem had known face to face' (Devarim 34:10). Moreover, the Rambam [1] maintains that belief in the uniqueness and superiority of Moshe's nevuah is one of the ikkarim (fundamentals). Anyone who claims that Bilam was equal to Moshe is an apikores. End of story!"

"Oh, so you're calling Chazal apikorsim?"

"Wait a minute - what do you mean?"

"Chazal explicitly equate Bilam with Moshe. In fact, the very pasuk you cited is the basis of their statement."

"I don't believe you. Prove it." 

The plaintiff pulls out the Torah Temimah, opens it to Devarim 34:10, and reads the version [2] of the midrash stated there:

"Never again has there arisen in Israel a prophet like Moshe" - [a prophet like Moshe] didn't arise in Israel, but [such a prophet] did in the nations of the world. Who was this? This was Bilam ben Beor. To what can this be compared? To the royal chef, who knows how much the king spends on his meals.

"Well? What do you have to say to THAT? Are you going to argue with Chazal's explanation? Are you going to accuse them of denying the yesodei ha'Torah?" 

The defendant is dumbfounded.

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Midrashim are a double-edged sword. On the one hand, they contain the deepest ideas. At the same time, they are frequently misunderstood in ways which lead to terrible distortions of Judaism. 

It is my belief that the three leading causes of such misunderstandings are: (1) confusion as to what midrashim are, (2) ignorance as to the proper method of learning midrashim, and (3) a widespread misunderstanding of the proper place of midrashim in the study of Torah. 

The aim of this dvar Torah is not to explain the meaning of the aforementioned midrash about Bilam and Moshe; if you are interested in an explanation, I refer you to the Ramban [3] and the Sefer ha'Ikkarim [4]. Rather, the purpose of this dvar Torah is to present the approach taken by the Geonim and Rishonim when faced with midrashic "proofs" for problematic notions.  

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In the Disputation at Barcelona, Friar Paul posed a similarly troublesome question to the Ramban. The Ramban [5] recounts:

I arose and said: "Listen, all you peoples! Friar Paul asked me if the moshiach (messiah), about whom the neviim (prophets) spoke, has already arrived. I answered that he has not arrived. He then brought a book of aggadah which stated that on the day the Beis ha'Mikdash (Holy Temple) was destroyed, the moshiach was born. 

The problem presented to the Ramban by this midrash is clear: if the moshiach is to bring about the ultimate redemption, as the neviim repeatedly state, then how can it be true that the moshiach was born over a thousand years ago? And if this was stated in a midrash, how can the Ramban disagree? Here is the Ramban's response:

I responded that I don't believe in this [midrash]. Know that we have three types of books. 

(1) The first is the Biblia (a.k.a. "the Bible"), which all of us believe with complete conviction. 

(2) The second is called "Talmud," which is an explanation of the mitzvos of the Torah, for there are 613 mitzvos in the Torah and not a single one of them is unexplained in the Talmud, and we believe in it (i.e. the Talmud) in its explanation of the mitzvos. 

(3) We also have a third book called "midrash" or sermones (a.k.a. "sermons") - for example, when a clergyman gets up and delivers a sermon, and it is deemed to be good by one of the people who hears it, and he writes it down. Regarding [the contents of] this third book: if one believes in it, that is good; but if one doesn't believe in it, then it will not harm him. We have Sages who wrote that the moshiach will not be born until close to the end of times, when he comes to bring us out of exile. Therefore, I don’t believe in what this book says that he was born from the day of the destruction.

In short, the Ramban's answer was: "If your only 'proof' is a midrash, then there is nothing compelling me to believe it - especially when there are other midrashim which contradict it." 

The Ramban's approach to midrashim has its roots in the writings of the Geonim. Here are the words of three of the most prominent Geonim:

Rav Hai Gaon [6]: "Know that divrei agadah are not like teachings from Torah she’baal Peh. Rather, each one expounded on what occurred to his own mind; [they were stated] in the manner of “it is possible that” or “one might say” – not as a clear-cut matter. Therefore, we don’t rely on them."

Rav Sherira Gaon [7]: "These statements which are expounded from pesukim and are called “midrash” and “aggadah” are theories. Some of them are true [in a literal sense] … but many of them are not … Therefore, we don’t rely on divrei aggadah. The valid ones are those which are supported by rationality and Scripture. There is no end or limit to aggados."

Rav Saadia Gaon [8]: "We don’t rely on, nor do we bring proof, from any divrei aggadah, nor do we raise objections based on divrei aggadah."

Likewise, the Rishonim invoke this principle when confronted with midrashim which undermine well-established truths. For instance:

Shmuel ha'Naggid [9]: "'Hagadah' (a.k.a. 'aggadah' or 'aggadic midrash') is any explanation from the Talmud on a non-mitzvah topic - this is hagadah, and we only learn from it that which makes sense. It is incumbent upon you to know that established by the Sages as halacha regarding any mitzvah was received by Moshe Rabbeinu who received it from the Almighty, and we should not add to it nor subtract from it. But as for all of the explanations of the Scriptural verses - each of the Sages explained according to the ideas which occurred to him and what he saw with his mind. We should only learn from these explanations that which makes sense, and the rest we should not rely upon."

Ibn Ezra [10]: "The sum of the matter is what the Geonim said about drash: we don't raise objections against it, or from it."  

Ramban [11]: "We don't bring objections based on divrei aggadah." 

Rashba [12]: "These are only divrei aggadah, and we don't bring objections based on them." 

Ritva [13]: "How could we abandon all of these statements that were stated as halacha on account of that which was stated as divrei aggadah? ... Rather, it is certain that since these are divrei aggadah, and we don't bring objections based on them." 

The approach of these Geonim and Rishonim is clear: we do not bring objections from midrashim, nor do we rely on them for proof; there is no obligation to believe midrashim, and we only learn from midrashim ideas that are adequately supported by evidence and reason.

At the same time, we mustn't go to the opposite extreme and ignore or dismiss every midrash which appears problematic to us at first glance. Rather, we should strive for the ideal stated by the Rambam [14]:

When you encounter a statement of Chazal which seems to conflict with reason, pause and consider it, and realize that this utterance must be a riddle or a parable. Sleep on it, trying anxiously to grasp its logic and its expression, so that you may find its genuine intellectual intention and lay hold of a genuine concept, as Scripture says: “To find out words of delight, and that which was written uprightly, even words of truth” (Koheles 12:10).

Last, but not least, we must heed the Rambam's [15] other piece of advice for those who wish to understand the wisdom hidden in Chazal's midrashim: 

The only thing a person can do in addition to learning and striving in his involvement in Torah, is to direct his heart to Hashem and pray before Him and request that He graciously grant him knowledge and help him by revealing for him the secrets which are concealed in the Holy Writings, as we find that David did, as it is stated, "Unveil my eyes that I may perceive wonders from Your Torah" (Tehilim 119:18).

[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah, Sanhedrin Chapter 10

[2] Ha'Rav Baruch HaLevi Epstein, Torah Temimah on Sefer Devarim 34:10. The full version of the midrash can be found in Sifrei: Devarim, Piska 357:10, and Bamidbar Rabbah 14:20. These versions of the midrash are substantially different, in that they go on to enumerate the differences between nevuas Moshe and nevuas Bilam, thereby avoiding the problem altogether. Nevertheless, I have chosen to write about the Torah Temimah's version of the midrash because (a) this was the first version I encountered, and which bothered me for years until I looked up the original sources; and (b) because I wanted to write about this methodology point, and the Torah Temimah's version of this midrash made for a good conversation starter. And while we're discussing the Torah Temimah, I should note that he offers a nice interpretation of this midrash as well. 

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Bamidbar 24:1-2

[4] Rabbeinu Yosef Albo, Sefer ha'Ikkarim 3:20

[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Ha'Vikuach

[6] Rav Hai Gaon, Otzar ha'Geonim l'Maseches Chagigah 67

[7] Rav Sherira Gaon, cited in Sefer ha’Eshkol, Hilchos Sefer Torah 60a

[8] Rav Saadia Gaon, Otzar ha’Geonim l'Maseches Chagigah, Miluim (p.65)

[9] Shmuel ha'Naggid, Mevo ha'Talmud

[10] Rabbeinu Avraham ben Ezra (ibn Ezra), Short Commentary on Sefer Shemos 2:9

[11] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Chiddushim: Maseches Yevamos 61b

[12] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderet (Rashba), Chiddushim: Maseches Megilah 15a

[13] Rabbeinu Yom Tov ben Avraham Asevilli (Ritva), Chiddushim: Maseches Shabbos 65b

[14] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah, Sanhedrin Chapter 10

[15] ibid. Introduction