When Hashem Prefers Telling Lies Over Doing Miracles

This week's Torah content has been sponsored by Naomi Mann in honor of Rabbi Moskowitz zt"l, whose shloshim is this week.

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When Hashem Prefers Telling Lies Over Doing Miracles

After taking the monarchy away from Shaul, Hashem charges Shmuel ha’Navi with the mission of anointing a new king, saying: “Fill your horn with oil and go; I will send you to Yishai of Bethlehem, for I have seen a king for Myself among his sons” (I Shmuel 16:1). Shmuel asks: “How can I go? Shaul will hear and will kill me!” Hashem responds: “Take a heifer and say, ‘I have come to bring an offering to Hashem.’ Invite Yishai to the feast and I will tell you what to do, and you will anoint for Me whom I shall tell you.”

In other words, Hashem instructed Shmuel to lie. Shmuel did not come to Bethlehem to bring an offering to Hashem, but for the express purpose of anointing a new king. Why did Hashem advise him to do this? How could He advise a tzadik to lie? Why didn’t He miraculously protect His navi from all harm? Ralbag answers these questions in his “lessons” section:

The 14th lesson pertains to ethics, namely, that it is not considered to be a deficiency [of character] for a navi to lie in order to save his life. You see that Hashem advised Shmuel to say, “I have come to bring an offering to Hashem,” even though he really only came to anoint a king from the sons of Yishai.

The 15th lesson is to teach us that a person should not rely on a miracle, even though he is exceedingly perfected and clings to Hashem [in his righteousness]. You see that Shmuel, despite his high level [of perfection], was afraid that Shaul would kill him, and sought strategies to avoid this, saying: “How can I go? Shaul will hear me and kill me!” He did not rely on a miracle, even though he was going by the command of Hashem, for Hashem’s will is that a person should strive to save himself based on the most probable course of action, since Hashem will not do a miracle unless it is absolutely necessary.

Radak extrapolates the same lessons as the Ralbag, but ties the two points together. He writes: “We find that even when Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu makes a promise to a navi or a tzadik, nevertheless, [these individuals] will be careful when going to a place of danger.” Radak cites the well-known example of how Yaakov Avinu feared Eisav and took precautions, even though he was on a mission from Hashem to return to Aram Naharayim and was promised that Hashem would be with him. Likewise, David fled for his life from before Shaul even after being anointed as king. Gideon, Yehoshua, and others acted strategically in waging wars, even though they were doing so at the behest of Hashem. Radak explains:

The reason [for all this] is that even though Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu does miracles and wonders for those who fear Him, [these miracles] mostly proceed in accordance with the laws of nature. Thus, Yaakov feared Eisav and Shmuel feared Shaul in accordance with the laws of nature, [reasoning that] if he anointed a king during [Shaul’s] lifetime, he would need a strategy for how to go, and this was his question: “How can I go?” Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu answered him: “Take a heifer with you” …

Our Sages learned from this pasuk that it is a mitzvah to distort [the truth] for the sake of peace, for Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu told Shmuel, “Take a heifer with you,” thereby showing him that it is not proper for a person to go to a place of danger and rely on a miracle, as it is stated: “do not test Hashem, your God” (Devarim 6:16).

To put it bluntly: Hashem would rather advise Shmuel to tell a lie than to do an unnecessary miracle for him.

I used to wonder why more frum Jews – especially boys and men – don’t learn Tanach with the classical commentators. The more I learn, the more I begin to suspect I know the answer: they can’t learn Tanach with the classical commentators without undermining their own beliefs about how Hashem does and doesn’t work. How many Jews go about life thinking that Hashem will protect them because they consider themselves to be righteous, or because they’re on a mitzvah mission? How many Jews give lip service to notions of “hishtadlus” but privately believe that Hashem would never allow them to fall into harm? But the ways of the tzadikim and neviim in Tanach are different. They harbor no illusions about guarantees of divine protection. Instead, they rely on their God-given wisdom to strategically implement God’s will.

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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.

If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast", "The Stoic Jew" Podcast, "Rambam Bekius" Podcast, "Machshavah Lab" Podcast, "The Tefilah Podcast"  

On Seeing the Hearts of Human Beings

Today’s Torah content is dedicated to the joyous occasion of the marriage of Jon Deutsch and Avigayil Lev. Jon has "graduated" from student, to coworker, to chavrusa and friend. Avigayil, another former student and fellow Slytherin, remains a daily presence in my virtual beis midrash. I am happy for them and I'm excited to see where their life leads them.

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Artwork: Dack Fayden, by Terese Nielsen

On Seeing the Hearts of Human Beings

Seeing the Heart of David

With few exceptions, Tanach tends to eschew descriptions of the physical appearances of its characters. Two of those exceptions can be found in Sefer Shmuel. The first is Shaul: “And [Kish] had a son, whose name was Shaul, young and handsome [1], and there was not among the children of Israel a more handsome person than he: from his shoulders and upward he was taller than any of the people” (I Shmuel 9:2)

The second notable exception is David, about whom it is said: “Now he was ruddy (admoni) with beautiful eyes (yafeh einayim) and a goodly appearance (tov ro’ee)” (ibid. 16:12).

In context it is easy to see why these physical descriptions are relevant to the narrative. Shmuel ha’Navi is sent by Hashem to anoint a new king to replace Shaul. He is told that the new king will be one of the sons of Yishai. He makes the journey to Yishai’s house, and the sons are summoned:

And it was upon their arrival that Shmuel saw Eliav and said: “Surely Hashem’s anointed is before Him.” But Hashem said unto Samuel: “Do not look at his appearance or at his tall stature, for I have rejected him; for it is not as man sees – for man looks at the outward appearance, but Hashem sees the heart” (ibid. 16:6-7)

Shmuel then cycles through the rest of Yishai’s sons, before finally settling on David:

Yishai then called Avinadav and brought him before Shmuel, but he said, “Hashem has not chosen this one either.” Then Yishai brought Shammah, but [Shmuel] said, “Hashem has not chosen this one either.” Yishai presented his seven sons before Shmuel, but Shmuel said to Yishai, “Hashem has not chosen these.” Shmuel said, “Are these all the boys?” and he said, “The youngest one is still left; he is tending the sheep now.” So Shmuel said to Yishai: “Send and bring him, for we will not sit [to dine] until he arrives here.” He sent and brought him. He was ruddy with beautiful eyes and a goodly appearance. Hashem then said, “Arise and anoint him, for this is he!” (ibid. 16:8-12)

The question is: What was Shmuel’s mistake? The fact that Hashem had to correct him, saying, “Do not look at his appearance or at his tall stature … for man looks at the outward appearance, but Hashem sees the heart” implies that Shmuel erroneously focused on David’s outward appearance. How are we to understand Shmuel’s error? Are we to think that such a great prophet as Shmuel got caught up in appearance-based superficialities? And if Shmuel was merely concerned about how the new king would be perceived in the eyes of his people, did he really think that such considerations outweighed the quality of the king’s heart?

The Malbim [2] provides a conceptually and textually sound answer:

“he was ruddy”: Here is shown to us the truth of what was written earlier: “for it is not as man sees – for man looks at the outward appearance, but Hashem sees the heart.” For David was ruddy, [indicating] that “redness” was dominant in him [3], and he was [therefore] genetically disposed to [commit acts of] bloodshed. At the same time, good qualities were also indicated in him, for he “had beautiful eyes and a goodly appearance,” which indicated that he was analytically sharp-minded and had a healthy constitution …

If Shmuel had only relied on his human perception, he would have concluded that [David] was not worthy [of being king,] but Hashem “sees hearts” and knew that out of his good free-will decisions he would do only justice and righteousness, and that he would use the nature of “redness” implanted within him to wage the wars of Hashem and to annihilate the doers of iniquity from [every] city. This is what is desirable in the eyes of Hashem, that even though a person has a natural inclination towards evil, he should rule over it with righteousness and good free-will decisions. This is [the intent of] that which was written: “Arise and anoint him, for this is he” – [namely, this is the one] who is desirable before Me.

According to the Malbim, Shmuel’s mistake did not stem from a misguided overvaluation of appearances. Rather, he was legitimately concerned that David’s natural disposition towards violence, as indicated by his ruddy appearance, would render him unfit to be king over Israel. Indeed, this was a legitimate concern. This is precisely why Hashem needed to step in and provide assurance from the perspective of Divine omniscience, saying: “It is true that such a disposition could render a man unfit to be king, but this man will harness his aggressive nature and channel it towards the good.” “He was ruddy with beautiful eyes and a goodly appearance.” His potentially destructive nature will be actualized, but for the good.

Seeing the Hearts of Our Fellow Human Beings

One of the central ethical mitzvos of the Torah is ve’halachta bi’drachav (“you shall walk in His ways”). The Rambam [4] defines this mitzvah as follows:

We are commanded to make ourselves resemble Him (exalted is He) in accordance with our ability, as it is stated: "you shall walk in His ways" (Devarim 28:9). This commandment has been repeated in the statement: "to walk in all of His ways" (ibid. 11:24). The [Oral Torah's] explanation of this matter is as follows:

"Just as Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu is called 'merciful,' so shall you be merciful. Just as Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu is called 'gracious,' so shall you be gracious. Just as Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu is called 'righteous,' so shall you be righteous. Just as Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu is called 'kind,' so shall you be kind" (Sifre).

And this commandment has been repeated in different words: "you shall follow after Hashem, your God" (ibid. 13:5), and its explanation is also that we should make our good actions and lofty character traits resemble those which are ascribed to Him (may He be exalted) by way of allegory. May He be exceedingly exalted over everything.

The core of this mitzvah is that we should model our own actions and characteristics after the allegorical descriptions of Hashem’s actions and characteristics. If so, then Hashem’s statement to Shmuel, “for it is not as man sees – for man looks at the outward appearance, but Hashem sees the heart” is not to be understood merely as a particular correction of a particular man’s mistake, but as a universal ethical imperative. Accordingly, we must ask ourselves: What can we do to emulate the Divine attribute of looking past outward appearances of our fellow human beings, and instead, to “see their hearts”?

I recently finished reading Dr. Tara Brach’s book Radical Compassion. In Chapter 9, “Seeing the Goodness,” Tara writes about techniques for remembering to see the basic goodness in all human beings. Rather than attempt to summarize the main ideas of the chapter, which are built upon the previous chapters, I’d like to relate a story the author heard read at a Christmas Eve church service. When combined with the Malbim’s commentary, I believe this provides us with an approach to answering our question:

One Christmas Day, a woman, her husband, and their year-old son had driven a long way before they found an open diner by the side of the road.

It was quiet and almost empty, and they were waiting gratefully for their food when the little boy began waving from his high chair and calling, "Hi there!" to someone behind them. To the mother's dismay, it turned out to be a wreck of a man, unkempt and unwashed, obviously a homeless drunk. Now he was waving back at her boy and calling, "Hi there, baby, hi there, big boy ... I see ya, buster."

The woman and her husband exchanged looks, and the few other people in the diner were shooting disapproving glances their way. And the old guy went on, even after their food came. "Do you know patty-cake? Attaboy ... Do you know peeka boo? Hey, look, he knows peekaboo." The mother tried turning the high chair around, but her son shrieked and twisted to face his new buddy.

Finally, giving up on their meal, her husband got up to pay the bill, and the mother took the baby in her arms, praying that she could quickly get past the old drunk, who was seated by the door. But as they approached, her son reached out with both arms – his pick-me-up signal – and propelled himself into the man's open arms.

But now the mother could see tears in the man's eyes as her son laid his head on his shoulder. He gently held and rocked the boy, and then he looked straight into her eyes. "You take care of this baby," he said firmly. And as he slowly handed him back, "God bless you, ma'am. You've given me my Christmas gift."

She must have mumbled something in return, but as she rushed to the car, tears streaming down her face, she could only think, "My God, my God, forgive me."

This woman underwent a shift in her perspective akin to what Shmuel ha’Navi experienced. At first she could only see this man’s outward appearance. He was homeless. He was drunk. He was dirty. He was what Tara calls “an Unreal Other” – a person who happens to belong to the same species as ourselves, but is somehow “less real” than ourselves and those with whom we identify. And this man’s homelessness, drunkenness, and dirtiness served as evidence to expand his Unreal Otherness by generating a complete past, present, and future of him in her mind. On that basis, whether consciously or unconsciously, this man was written off as being intrinsically worth less than she, her husband, and her baby, and was destined to remain as such.

It was only when she saw the man’s reaction to her baby – to her baby’s natural and unbiased reaction to another human being – that she was able to “see the heart” of this man. And when he looked into her eyes and expressed gratitude, he became a Real Person, just like her.

Now, one might object to this line of reasoning, saying that seeing an Unreal Other as a Real Person has nothing to do with emulating Hashem’s “seeing the heart” mentioned in Sefer Shmuel. After all, according to the Malbim, Hashem’s proclamation of David’s worthiness to be king was predicated on the knowledge that he would make good free will decisions, choosing to channel his natural tendencies to his service of God. Such knowledge can only come from Divine omniscience, which – by definition – is impossible for finite human beings to emulate, and wouldn’t even fall under the purview of ve’halachta bi’drachav.

I disagree. When the Rambam introduces the mitzvah by saying, “We are commanded to make ourselves resemble Him … in accordance with our ability,” and “we should make our good actions and lofty character traits resemble those which are ascribed to Him … by way of allegory” he is acknowledging the fact that the Divine attributes are intrinsically different from our human emulations of them. Indeed, the entire first section of the Moreh ha’Nevuchim substantiates this reading. Moreover, as my Rosh ha’Yeshiva pointed out, the Sifre cited by the Rambam bears out this point. Chazal don’t say: “Just as Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu is merciful, so shall you be merciful” but rather, “Just as Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu is called merciful, so shall you be merciful.” In other words, Hashem’s mercy is of a fundamentally different nature than human mercy, and there is absolutely no way we can emulate it. Rather, we must study Hashem’s modes of action as presented in Tanach and translate them into human ethical standards.

Such is the approach I am suggesting here. Unlike Hashem, we lack the ability to see into the hearts of our fellow human beings to know what choices they will make. But like Hashem, we can take active steps to look past their outward appearances, to refrain from making definitive judgments and predictions of future behavior on the basis of what our eyes see – as if we were as omniscient as God – and instead, to see them as a fellow tzelem Elokim (“created in with a divine form”), with the same humanity as ourselves.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that we ought to be naïve or unrealistically optimistic in our dealings with other people. If, for example, an actual mugger approaches us on the street, we should take whatever precautions are necessary. But at the same time, we can still see that person as a fellow human being.

Seeing Our Own Hearts

Most importantly, this perspective must be applied to our own hearts. When we look in the mirror, we must see past the misplaced feelings of certainty we have about our “destiny” based on our dispositions and the lot we were dealt in life. There is no such thing as destiny. "See, I have placed before you today the life and the good, and the death and the bad … Choose life, that you and your offspring may live" (Devarim 30:15,19). We cannot choose our genetics or our circumstances, but we can choose what to do with them. By seeing our own heart through Divine eyes, we unlock our ability to “choose life.”

[1] The pasuk uses the phrase “tov” (“goodly”), but the Targum translates this as “shapir” (“beautiful” or “handsome”), and the end of the pasuk supports this translation.

[2] Rav Meir Leibush ben Yechiel Michel (Malbim), Commentary on Sefer I Shmuel 6:12

[3] I don’t fully understand what he means, but my guess is that it reflects some sort of theory of humourism. I don’t think it matters much, as long as we take it as his factual premise and then see how he applies it.

[4] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Sefer ha’Mitzvos: Mitzvas Aseh #8

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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you. 

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

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

Taking the Road Less Traveled in Learning

This week's Torah content has been sponsored by Sol and Chummie Azose, in honor of the upcoming 81st birthday of the Rosh ha'Yeshiva, Rabbi Yisroel Chait, and the 91st birthday of Sol's father, Hazzan Isaac Azose. If you're interested in sponsoring a day's or a week's worth of Torah content, you can contact me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com.

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Taking the Road Less Traveled in Learning

Yes, I am well aware of the source of the idiom and the fact that it is regarded as a misquote or a misunderstanding; see https://grammarist.com/idiom/the-road-less-traveled/

The Abravanel’s Lonely Quest

In his introduction to Sefer Shmuel, the Abravanel raises a powerful question about Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim (The Book of Chronicles): What, exactly, was Ezra ha’Sofer’s plan in composing this sefer? He subdivides this question into two “perplexities:” (a) Why did Ezra include some of the events and episodes from David ha’Melech’s life but omit others? (b) Why did Ezra repeat material from Sefer Shmuel and Sefer Melachim, much of it verbatim?

What intrigues me about this passage is not the Abravanel’s question or his answers, but the thoughts and feelings he expresses about his relationship to the question and his quest for answers. Here is the relevant excerpt, which I’ve divided into three paragraphs:

These are the perplexities that have arisen from this powerful question. Regarding the quest for the answer and the resolution [of these doubts] – behold! I remain alone, and no one has worked with me on these [matters]. On this subject I have found nothing – minor or major, good or bad – from our Sages of blessed memory: not from the early Talmudic Sages, nor from the latter authors or commentators. Not even one of them was bestirred by this perplexity at all, nor did any of them pave the way for its answer.

Behold! Hashem has added grief to my pain, for we do not have with us in this land a commentary on Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim, except for the few matters authored by the Radak (of blessed memory) which are nullified in their minuteness (batelim b’miutan), and he didn’t investigate deeply at all. Moreover, this book of Divrei ha’Yamim is not commonplace among the Jews in their midrashim.

Today I will recall my sin (es chata’ai ani mazkir ha’yom), for never in my days had I read it, nor had I investigated its contents for the duration of my existence until now, and nothing has remained for me but the force of my reasoning and my intellectual intuition about the pshat (straightforward meaning) of the pesukim, and the help of God Who has girded me with success and made wholesome my path.

Rarely do we see the classical meforshim (commentators) engage in such metacognitive commentary, reflecting on their own learning experiences and their feelings about them. When I read this, I was moved by my own similar experience – so much so, that I decided to write my own reflections on the three points raised by the Abravanel, as they pertain to my own teaching and learning. I don’t know whether anyone will find these reflections to be enlightening or beneficial, but I felt the need to express them.

Answering Questions that Haven’t Been Asked

The Abravanel begins by voicing his astonishment over the fact that his questions weren’t raised by any of his predecessors. To those who are familiar with the Abravanel and his intellectual fearlessness, it won’t come as a surprise that he wasn’t the least bit daunted by the absence of exegetical precedent.

In my experience, few intellectual thrills in Torah study compare to the discovery of a major question that none of the traditional commentators have asked. (True, the unanimous silence can sometimes make one wonder whether the question is founded on a mistaken premise; but more often than not, the question is so clear and powerful as to be undeniable, and the fact that none of the meforshim has raised it is a question on them – not a cause for self-doubt.) The thrill I experience has nothing to do with being the first to discover something. It’s the thrill of freshly fallen snow, the awakened creative energy felt upon finding a new source of inspiration, the excitement before opening the first pack in a Magic: the Gathering booster draft. It has nothing to do with ego or accomplishment, and everything to do with adventure.

Mishlei has provided me with some excellent practice in this regard. Because the pesukim are so cryptically worded, and because the commentators take such diverse approaches, it’s not uncommon to see a later commentator bothered by a question that earlier commentaries neglected to address. When I teach Mishlei I always require my students to come up with every question they can think of, no matter how minor it seems. When we survey the commentaries we typically find that most of the questions are addressed in some form or another, and if any of them aren’t, I remind my students that before these commentaries were written, then none of the questions were addressed, and that doesn’t make the questions any less real or valuable!

While I don’t go out of my way to look for such unasked questions, I am always delighted to encounter them in my learning. And even if I can’t answer them, my mind is inevitably enriched by their discovery.

Learning Without the Aid of Commentaries

The Abravanel then goes on to bemoan the woeful state of Divrei ha’Yamim commentaries. Thankfully, this isn’t a problem I encounter much in my own learning. Most of the texts I learn on a regular basis have enough commentaries to provide me with the guidance I need.

There are two exceptions, however: midrash aggadah (the homiletical interpretations and non-legalistic teachings of Chazal, as found in the Talmud and in the collections of midrashim) and the nusach ha’tefilah (liturgy), including piyyutim (liturgical poems), selichos (supplicatory penitential prayers) and kinnos (lamentations). It’s true that there are commentaries out there on these genres and subgenres, but unlike the commentaries on the texts of Torah she’bi’Chsav (the Written Torah), Torah she’baal Peh (the Oral Torah), and Talmud, I find that these commentaries often fail to provide me with the answers, elucidations, and direction I’m looking for. This leaves me in a similar situation to the one described by the Abravanel: no commentaries except for a few that don’t investigate on a deep enough level and are batel b’miutan, which forces me to venture out on my own.

Filling the Gaps

The Abravanel concludes by “confessing” his “sin” of never having investigated or even read Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim until the present time in his life. Interestingly enough, this is what led me to start learning Sefer Shmuel in the first place, which led me to the Abravanel’s comments.

I began my formal Jewish education in 11th grade at the alpeh-beis level. I spent the next several years “playing catchup” in an effort to compensate for the years of Jewish education I had missed out on as a child. Although I’m certainly happy with how far I’ve come, there are still major gaps in my learning. One of those gaps is Neviim Rishonim (i.e. Yehoshua, Shoftim, Shmuel, and Melachim – with the exception of the second half of Melachim II, which I taught for a number of years). What makes this gap even more embarrassing is the fact that most of my students learned these seforim at a young age, and tend to be fluent in the basic stories and characters. After years of asking my high school students to summarize famous episodes in the lives of Shmuel, Shaul, and David ha’Melech, and after repeatedly finding myself impeded by my own ignorance in my learning of Sefer Tehilim, I finally decided to “do teshuvah” and start learning Sefer Shmuel.

There is an advantage of learning something like Sefer Shmuel or Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim for the first time at a later-than-normal age – an advantage which is alluded to by the Abravanel, although it wasn’t necessarily his intent to make this point. He writes that his study of Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim would be guided by “[nothing] but the force of my reasoning and my intellectual intuition about the pshat of the pesukim.” Unlike his analysis of the other books of Tanach, which was undertaken at a much earlier age and was likely influenced by many other teachers and other commentaries, the Abravanel’s learning of Divrei ha’Yamim commenced at a more intellectually mature age; as such, it was led by his honed intuition and uninfluenced by external biases (at least, as uninfluenced as any of us can be).

Similarly, although I don’t share with my students and peers the advantage of having been raised with the stories in Sefer Shmuel, I do have an opportunity that they didn’t have: to learn through the text for the first time with the advantage of 20 years of serious learning, teaching, and personal development under my belt. This will allow me to see things that I might not have otherwise seen.

Concluding Thoughts

I have been obsessed with methodology and metacognition for as long as I have been involved in learning. Perhaps, because of this, I find this Abravanel more interesting than most. As a teacher, I strongly feel that students derive tremendous benefits from hearing their teachers speak in this manner about their own learning processes and their relationship to learning. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has, over the course of his learning, wondered, “Do I have to figure this out alone?” The more comfortable teachers feel to discuss their own learning-related doubts, anxieties, and (to use the Abravanel’s phrase) “sins,” the more their students can benefit by learning from their experiences.

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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you. 

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

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