National Scholar Updates

Dignity and Inner Strength: Thoughts for Parashat Mikkets

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Mikkets

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel

 

“And Pharaoh called Joseph Zaphenath Paneah…” (Bereishith 41:45).

When Pharaoh elevated Joseph to high office, he gave Joseph an Egyptian name. Egyptologists have suggested various translations of this name: “the god speaks and he lives;” or “says the god, he will live;” or “food-man of the life.”

Jewish exegetes sought to translate Zaphenath Paneah as though it had roots in Hebrew language. Targum Onkelos translated it as “the man to whom hidden things are revealed.” Rashi interpreted it as “explainer of hidden things.” Other commentators have similarly defined the name as relating to Joseph’s talent in revealing secrets.

Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin, a 19th century rabbinic sage known widely as the Netziv, offered an interesting analysis in his Torah commentary, Ha’amek Davar. Also seeking Hebrew roots for Zaphenath Paneah, he suggested that the “pa” of Paneah refers to glory and honor (hofa’ah); and the “neah” alludes to pleasantness and spiritual contentment (nahat). Pharaoh gave Joseph this name because he detected something amazing about Joseph, beyond ability to decipher dreams.

Pharaoh wondered: here was a young Hebrew slave who has spent long months in prison. How could someone with this background appear to be entirely comfortable assuming a position of great power and leadership? How was Joseph able to carry himself with so much confidence?  Pharaoh intuited that Joseph was inherently not a slave at all; rather, Joseph had natural poise; he carried himself as a nobleman. So Pharaoh gave him a name that meant: a man who has hidden powers of glory, leadership, and serenity.

While the Netziv’s etymological theory is questionable, his psychological insight is apt. Although many people would have viewed Joseph as a lowly slave, Pharaoh was perceptive to see the “real” Joseph. He was impressed with Joseph’s self-image as a dignified, competent human being. The key to Joseph’s greatness was that he did not let negative external circumstances undermine his own self-worth.

People—especially those who suffer from various kinds of discrimination—need the strength of character to withstand negative pressures. One must be strong to avoid internalizing feelings of inferiority.

Dr. Bruno Bettelheim, who had been a Jewish prisoner in a German concentration camp, wrote that prisoners feared not only for their physical lives; they feared that they would come to see themselves as the Nazis saw them—as animals. “The main problem is to remain alive and unchanged…the more absolute the tyranny, the more debilitated the subject.”

The Jewish People have understood this idea very well. We have been subjected to all sorts of abuse, calumnies, lies, ugly stereotypes. Some Jews, unfortunately, lost their pride and self-confidence; they withered under pressure. But the masses of Jews—like Joseph—maintained their inner nobility, idealism, and self-respect.

Rabbi Ephraim Oshry, who survived the Kovno ghetto, wrote a book, “Mima’amakim,” in which he recorded his responses to various questions put to him during the Holocaust years. One person inquired whether it was still appropriate to recite the morning blessing thanking God “for not having made me a slave.”  After all, Jews were indeed reduced to slave conditions.

Rabbi Oshry replied that one must continue to say the blessing, to remind himself that he is not innately a slave, that God did not create him to be a slave, that he should not internalize a slave mentality. It is vital to retain self-awareness of who we really are; we must not surrender our inner identity to the wicked oppressors who seek to debase us.

Joseph set a model of maintaining pride, dignity and self-worth even in difficult conditions. It’s a model relevant to us today.

 

 

Bridging Tradition and the Academy

Bridging Tradition and the Academy:
The Literary-Theological School in Orthodox Bible Study 1


Introduction


Traditional Judaism includes core beliefs in prophecy, the divine revelation of the Torah
through Moses, and the existence of an Oral Law that accompanies the Written Torah. Although
the precise parameters of these beliefs have been debated over the millennia, these general
axioms form the heart and soul of Jewish religious encounter with the Torah. 2


Beginning in the seventeenth century with the philosophers Spinoza and Hobbes, and
moving through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries with Liberal Protestant critical Bible
scholarship, these and other basic religious foundations came under attack by a host of studies
and new assumptions. Simultaneously, critical Bible methodology brought with it fresh questions
and tools that could enhance traditional Bible study. 3


Over the past two centuries, analysis of literary tools, comparative linguistics, and the
discovery of a wealth of ancient texts and artifacts have contributed immensely to our
understanding the rich tapestry and complexity of biblical texts. Much also has improved since
the 1970s as a result of the literary revolution in biblical scholarship. After generations of
dissecting the Torah and the rest of Tanakh, many scholars have recognized that these books can
be analyzed effectively as unified texts. Every word is valuable. Passages have meaningful
structures and are multilayered. Understanding the interplay between texts is vital. These
assumptions were far more compatible with classical Orthodox Tanakh study.


Great Orthodox scholars of the previous generation such as the authors of the Da’at
Mikra commentary series, Professor Nehama Leibowitz, and Rabbi Mordechai Breuer
exemplified different aspects of how Orthodox scholarship could benefit from the information
and methodology of academic Bible scholarship through the prism of traditional faith. Similarly,
the prolific writings of leading contemporary rabbinic scholars such as Yoel BinNun, Elhanan
Samet, and Shalom Carmy are intellectually and spiritually stimulating, as they benefit from the
academy while working from the viewpoint of the yeshivah.


Shalom Carmy refers to this general methodology as the “literary-theological” approach
to Tanakh. This methodology demands a finely tuned text reading, along with a focus on the
religious significance of the passage. The premises of this approach include: (1) Oral Law and
classical rabbinic commentary are central to the way we understand the revealed word of God;
and (2) It is vital to study biblical passages in their literary and historical context. 4
Although each scholar has his or her own particular style, all advocates of this
methodology are driven by several underlying core assumptions. Ezra Bick (Yeshivat Har
Etzion) enumerates the most important distinguishing principles of this school. Peshat (the
primary intent of the biblical text) is discoverable from a rigorous study of the text, as the Torah
was not given as an esoteric document to confuse people. There is an Oral Law, but that does not
diminish the pursuit of peshat. We attempt to learn in the manner of our classical commentators,
with the goal of uncovering the intended meaning of the text. In addition to attempting to
understand each word and verse locally, it is critical to consider the bigger picture, whether of a
passage, an entire book, or parallels between different parts of Tanakh. God revealed the Torah
to people, and therefore the Torah speaks in the language of people. 5 Since the Torah is divinely

revealed, every word must be taken with utmost seriousness. Since it is written in human
language, we may use literary tools that can expose dimensions of meaning in the text. There
also is value to the study of the historical context of Tanakh, comparative linguistics, and
archaeology. Since the Torah is a divine covenant with Israel, there is a religious obligation to
understand its intended meaning and messages and to apply them to our lives. 6
While Orthodox Tanakh scholarship is wedded to the primacy of classical rabbinic
interpretation, scholars of each generation incorporate new trends into their thought. Since
Jewish tradition places a premium on scholarship, we should hear the truth from whoever says it.
Rambam stated this principle long ago, 7 and many of the greatest rabbinic figures before and
since have espoused this policy. 8 This article will consider some of the seminal developments
since the mid-twentieth century in Orthodox Tanakh study, with an emphasis on the literary-
theological school. 9


Leading Figures of the Past Generation
Da’at Mikra
Well aware of the impact that critical Bible scholarship had in academic circles and
beyond, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook inspired his student Moshe Seidel to embark on an
ambitious project. Under Seidel’s leadership, a group of scholars convened in 1956 and
formulated the principles for a new verse-by-verse traditional commentary on the entire Tanakh.
In 1963, the first assignments were given out for individual biblical books. The first two volumes
of the series were published in 1970, and its final volume was published in 2003. This
monumental project is entitled Da’at Mikra (literally, “Knowledge of Scripture”), and was
published by Mosad HaRav Kook in Jerusalem. The commentary incorporates the gamut of
traditional interpretation as well as contemporary research. 10


It also is worth noting that Professor Yehuda Elitzur (1911–1997), one of the original
editors of the Da’at Mikra series, was also the head of the Bible Department at Bar-Ilan
University. His prolific work highlights the inclusion of academic disciplines into Orthodox
Tanakh study. 11


Professor Nehama Leibowitz
One of the greatest Tanakh teachers of the twentieth century was Professor Nehama
Leibowitz (1905–1997). Through her Gilyonot (weekly parashah sheets) and Iyyunim
(published, in English, as Studies in the Weekly Parashah), as well as her legendary devotion to
teaching, she enlightened Jews from all backgrounds. Nehama (as she preferred to be called)
incorporated contemporary scholarly methods into her studies on the Torah and projected them
through the eyes of its classical rabbinic interpreters. Her close text analysis, coupled with a
systematic presentation of traditional commentaries to develop compelling religious themes, has
inspired generations of teachers and students. Nehama introduced the tools of academic
scholarship to many Orthodox Jews, and simultaneously opened a window into the thinking of
classical rabbinic commentary for many non-Orthodox Jews. 12


Rabbi Mordechai Breuer
One of the most creative and controversial figures in modern religious Tanakh study was
Mordechai Breuer (1921–2007). He posited that the proposed divisions of the Documentary
Hypothesis are essentially correct, and he agreed with the critics that no one person could have

composed the Torah. However, he disagreed with the critics most fundamentally by insisting that
no person wrote the Torah. God revealed it to Moses in its complex form so that the multiple
aspects of the infinite Torah could be presented in different sections. Since we are limited as
humans, we cannot simultaneously entertain these perspectives, so they appear to us as
contradictory. The complete truth emerges only when one takes all facets into account. He
named his approach the Theory of Aspects. In this manner, Breuer accepted the text analysis of
critical scholarship while rejecting its underlying beliefs and assumptions. 13
Although Breuer’s commitment to the readings of the Documentary Hypothesis as
“science” detracted from his work, his fundamental premise, that the Torah presents aspects of
truth in different places, has significantly influenced the next generation of scholars, 14 to whom
we now turn.


Leading Contemporary Figures
Rabbi Yoel Bin-Nun
One of the most influential Tanakh teachers today, Yoel Bin-Nun of Herzog College
presents a more comprehensive approach to Tanakh than many of his colleagues, a result of his
unusual ability to address historical-archaeological scholarship on a serious level. He combines
expertise in Tanakh, rabbinics, parshanut, halakhah, history, archaeology, linguistics, and
theology. He actively confronts academic Bible study by using its own tools of scholarship to
respond to its challenges.


In his writings, Rabbi Breuer steered clear of historical criticism, concentrating
exclusively on literary issues. 15 Rabbi Bin-Nun, in contrast, believes that these disciplines, when
studied responsibly, combine harmoniously and deepen our understanding of Tanakh and other
areas of Jewish thought. 16


Rabbi Elhanan Samet
Another exemplar of the literary-theological approach is Rabbi Elhanan Samet, who also
teaches at Herzog College. Classical commentators and thinkers, ancient Near Eastern sources,
and literary tools contribute to his analyses, but Rabbi Samet is careful to evaluate all of these
elements against the biblical text itself. Rabbi Samet selectively uses both traditional and modern
sources, including those who are non-Orthodox as well as, on occasion, non-Jewish scholars. He
places great emphasis on the overall structure of the passage, often identifying chiasms as well as
imputing significance to the leitworten (lead words). One of Samet’s hallmark literary techniques
is to divide a passage—narrative, poetic, or legal—in half. He applies this principle to determine
the “central pivot” of a passage which he maintains helps the reader ascertain the inner meaning
of the text. 17


Rabbi Shalom Carmy
The leading exponent of the literary-theological approach in America is Shalom Carmy
of Yeshiva University. A student of Rabbis Joseph Soloveitchik and Aharon Lichtenstein, Carmy
has distinguished himself as a scholar of both Tanakh and Jewish thought. He has contributed
substantially to the exploration of the philosophical underpinnings of the use of academic
methodology within a religious framework. 18 The principles of his approach include the following:

1. We learn Tanakh as an intensely religious pursuit. Philology and history are important
disciplines, but not ends in themselves; they are the means to the greater end of connecting to
the living messages of the prophets and our tradition.
2. Our Sages and later rabbinic commentators guide our inquiry, both as great scholars and as our
religious polestars.
3. Great pashtanim like Ibn Ezra and Radak have more in common with Hasidic writers than with
non-Orthodox academic scholarship. Traditional commentators view Tanakh as the revealed
word of God, with enduring religious value and relevance. This central axiom defines our
outlook on every sacred word.
4. Rabbinic views have religious value even if they may not be the most likely peshat reading of a
biblical text.
5. We should draw on non-Orthodox academic scholarship when it contributes positively to the
discussion.
6. Biblical books offer multiple perspectives on complex issues. Taken together, we can appreciate
the depth of the issues they address and develop an increasingly refined religious worldview.


Other Figures
Rabbi Menachem Leibtag, a student of Rabbi Yoel Bin-Nun, successfully pioneered the
dissemination of his teacher’s methodology over the Internet. 19 Another of Rabbi Bin-Nun’s
students, Rabbi Yaakov Medan, who currently is one of the Roshei Yeshivah at Yeshivat Har
Etzion, also has published widely on Tanakh. 20 Many others teach in Herzog College and other
schools, and publish in Megadim and other journals. Hundreds of articles are archived at the
Virtual Beit Midrash of Yeshivat Har Etzion (http://vbm.etzion.org.il/en). While most of the best
work emanates from Israel, the literary-theological approach has made significant strides in
America too. 21


Entering the twenty-first century, the next generation of Orthodox scholars have taken
their place as leading educators. The most significant project to date is the Maggid Tanakh
Commentary Series. A work in progress, Maggid Press (connected to Koren) has published
collections of studies on the weekly Torah portion, 22 and has embarked on an in-depth
commentary series on the entire Tanakh. The commentary series largely features the younger
generation of scholars, including Amnon Bazak (Samuel), Yitzchak Etshalom (Amos,
forthcoming), Tova Ganzel (Ezekiel), Jonathan Grossman (Genesis), and Yael Ziegler (Ruth,
Lamentations).


Jonathan Grossman stands out for his remarkably prolific output and his efforts to present
literary analysis as a comprehensive commentary on the books of Genesis, Ruth, Ecclesiastes,
and Esther. Grossman’s work bridges the best of traditional Tanakh learning with contemporary
literary methodology. A faculty member at both Herzog College of Yeshivat Har Etzion and Bar-
Ilan University, Grossman moves seamlessly between traditional and academic scholarship,
demonstrating how both modern literary analysis and our classical commentators contribute to
our understanding of the Torah. Most importantly, he remains focused on deriving the religious
messages from the text. 23


Moshe Shamah (Sephardic Synagogue, Brooklyn) composed a commentary on the Torah,
based on previously published online essays. Rabbi Shamah justifies the need for his
commentary by noting the lack of adequate material written on the Torah focusing on peshat that
accepts the axioms of tradition along with the compelling features of modern scholarship. He

addresses a wide range of issues, including linguistic elucidations of individual words; literary
structures of passages; parallels between sections of the Torah; religious-philosophical issues;
the relationship between the Written and Oral Law; surveys of parshanut; symbolic meanings of
laws, narratives, and Midrashim; a consideration of the Torah in light of its ancient Near Eastern
setting; and poetic techniques. It is particularly valuable to have a commentary of this high
caliber that can be read by scholars and laypeople alike. 24


Also noteworthy is the website, alhatorah.org, by Hillel Novetsky. The site contains
many essays that survey approaches to a plethora of issues in Tanakh, editions of classical
commentaries, and other learning tools that have brought online Tanakh education to a new
level.


Archaeology, Realia
Archaeology was popular among early Zionist scholars and was used extensively in the
Daat Mikra commentary series and by Professor Yehudah Elitzur (1911–1997). 25 Today, there is
a heightened interest within the Orthodox world in quality scholarship of geography,
archaeology, and realia. A growing body of literature addresses this gaping hole within the
standard yeshivah education. Two particularly valuable recent contributions are Professor Yoel
Elitzur’s Places in the Parasha: Biblical Geography and Its Meaning, and the new series, The
Koren Tanakh of the Land of Israel.


When learning Tanakh with the literary-theological method, certain elements become
primary. Others lend themselves less to this type of analysis and religious exploration. To cite a
familiar example, one learning the Book of Joshua likely will focus on the gripping narratives of
chapters 1–12 and then skip to chapters 22–24. Joshua’s role as leader and his relationship to
Moses’ leadership, the balance between God’s intervention and human efforts, the reenactment
of the covenant, the thorny question of war against the Canaanites, and many other vital religious
and human issues dominate the discussion. The lengthy city lists in chapters 13–21 would
receive scant attention at best, perhaps a few scattered bullet points. Further, the classical
commentators do not offer extensive help expanding the middle chapters, since they generally
were unaware of the geography of the Land of Israel.


Now imagine an entire book about those city list chapters, written by an expert in both the text of
Tanakh and contemporary historical and archaeological scholarship. Imagine that book teaching
a rigorous methodology in a clear accessible way that enlightens our understanding of Tanakh
and strengthens our religious connection to the Land of Israel. Such a book would fill a
monumental void in our learning. Yoel Elitzur’s new book, Places in the Parasha, helps to fill
that void.


Elitzur is a researcher of the Hebrew language and biblical and historical geography, a
member of the Academy of the Hebrew Language, and heads the Land of Israel Studies
Department at Herzog College in Alon Shvut. He has made a remarkable contribution to
religious Tanakh study by focusing on the oft-neglected biblical places and names. Elitzur
combines pioneering academic research with careful text analysis, bringing both together with
rigor and religious passion.

Elitzur has given us the opportunity to greatly enhance our understanding of many
elements in Tanakh, rabbinic teachings, and even folk traditions. His volume enlightens our
learning, and will foster a more profound love of the Land of Israel through intimate knowledge
of the settings for the eternal prophetic narratives in Tanakh. 26

Koren Publishers also has embarked on an impressive new project, a popular companion
to the Torah presenting contemporary research on archaeology, flora and fauna, geology, the
languages and realia of the ancient Near East, and other areas that elucidate aspects of the
biblical text. It is presented in a similar engaging manner to the Hebrew series, Olam HaTanakh,
and like that Hebrew work was composed by a team of scholars who specialize in a variety of
fields of scholarship. There are brief articles and glossy photographs, maps, and illustrations that
bring these areas to light. Unlike Olam HaTanakh, which also offers a running commentary on
biblical books, The Koren Tanakh of the Land of Israel discusses specifically those background
areas that may enhance our understanding of the text within its real-world setting.
This series does not purport to offer original scholarship, but rather synthesizes
contemporary academic scholarship in an accessible and Orthodox-friendly manner. As of this
writing, they have published volumes on Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Samuel, and the
series ultimately is expected to cover the entire Tanakh. 27


Addressing the Religious Challenges of Critical Study of Tanakh
Orthodoxy has matured significantly in the past generation and has been increasingly
willing to confront and benefit from developments in academic Bible study. The two most
important books written recently are Amnon Bazak, Until This Very Day: Fundamental
Questions in Bible Study (Maggid, 2020), and Joshua Berman, Ani Maamin: Biblical Criticism,
Historical Truth, and the Thirteen Principles of Faith (Maggid, 2020). Both scholars are well-
versed in classical Jewish sources as well as the gamut of contemporary academic discourse.
As the revealed word of God, the study of Tanakh should lie at the heart of the learning
of religious Jews along with the Talmud and classical rabbinic thinkers. In Israel, particularly in
the Religious Zionist community, there has been a flourishing of serious Tanakh learning in
recent decades. Thankfully, some of this excitement has spilled over into America and beyond.
With every positive development, however, there are accompanying challenges.
Academic Bible study offers a wealth of valuable information and analytic tools. However, it
also poses severe challenges to the very heart of traditional faith. The academic consensus asserts
that the Torah was composed by different people and schools, all from periods after Moses.
Many scholars doubt or deny the historicity of our foundational narratives. The presence of
ancient textual witnesses such as the Dead Sea Scrolls and Septuagint lead many to claim that
these variant texts are sometimes more reliable than the Masoretic Text.


The ostensible conflicts between tradition and academic scholarship have led many
scholars, including several who identify with the Orthodox community, to conclude that
traditional faith is incompatible with good scholarship. This supposition has led some to reject
traditional belief outright, or to radically redefine faith to make it compatible with their scholarly
conclusions, or to reinterpret classical sources in an attempt to justify such radical paradigm
shifts as being within tradition. These positions have led to counter-reactions in some Orthodox
circles that adopt excessively dogmatic and restrictive positions to prohibit scholarly inquiry or
peshat learning altogether. Both sides may be motivated by a profound and authentic religious
desire to connect to God and the Torah, but they distort aspects of tradition and create dangerous
and unnecessary rifts between us.


In Until This Very Day, Rabbi Amnon Bazak—one of the bright stars at Yeshivat Har
Etzion and its affiliated Herzog College—surveys classical sources and offers a sophisticated
understanding of Tanakh and the axioms of our faith, while simultaneously being fully open to

contemporary scholarship. Addressing the fact that many in the Orthodox world disregard
contemporary scholarship, Bazak offers three reasons why such willful ignorance is inexcusable:
1. These issues are widely publicized and available, and therefore rabbis and
religious educators must be able to address them intelligently.
2. Many of the questions from the academy are genuine and must be taken seriously
on scholarly grounds.
3. We often stand to gain a better understanding of Tanakh with the aid of
contemporary scholarship.
Bazak’s book is indispensable for all who engage with the critical issues of learning
Tanakh, and particularly for rabbis and educators. 28
Bazak frames his book as focused on the challenges from the secular academy. He
explores the following topics: (1) the authorship of the Torah and other biblical books; (2) the
reliability of the Masoretic Text; (3) archaeology and the historicity of the narratives in Tanakh
and comparative studies between Tanakh and ancient Near Eastern texts; (4) the relationship
between peshat and derash; and (5) the sins of biblical heroes.


Bazak’s central premise is that we must distinguish between facts and compelling tools of
analysis, which must be considered in our learning; and the assumptions of scholars, which we
reject when they conflict with traditional beliefs. He argues that nothing based on facts forces
one to choose between traditional faith and good scholarship.


Joshua Berman (Bar-Ilan University) has written a much-needed book for those in the
Orthodox community who have read popular works on Bible criticism but who lack the tools to
evaluate the merits of various theories or the religious implications of these theories. Informed
by decades of research into both traditional and academic methods, Berman is uniquely qualified
to address the religious and academic issues in the first book-length study of its kind. 29
Berman’s primary argument is that most purported faith-science conflicts arise from
misunderstandings of the nature of academic truth. There are several influential academic Bible
theories, such as the documentary hypothesis that posits multiple human authors of the Torah to
account for the contradictions and redundancies in the Torah, or arguments that many narratives
lack archaeological corroboration and therefore are fictional and irrelevant. Berman posits that
these positions are based on anachronistic assumptions about literature, history, and law, rather
than on the world of ideas in ancient Near Eastern texts and contexts. It is therefore critical from
a purely scholarly perspective to abandon these assumptions, and to attempt to understand the
Torah as a literary creation of the ancient world. By doing so, we also may better appreciate the
revolutionary religious and moral developments the Hebrew Bible contributed to ancient Near
Eastern culture and literature. These values transformed many areas of world culture.
Berman’s book is vital for understanding the relationship between faith and academic
Bible study, where we can benefit from those texts as useful tools in learning and appreciate the
staggering revolution of the Torah within its ancient context. We should not impose our modern
Western notions of history or Aristotelian consistency onto the Torah, nor should we impose our
modern sentiments of statutory law onto the Torah. By focusing on the Torah’s eternal lessons,
by attuning ourselves to differences between narratives to refine our understanding of the
message of each passage, and by recognizing that the Written Law was never intended as a
comprehensive code of law but always required an Oral Law, we can maintain complete faith in
revelation without hiding from the many beneficial aspects of contemporary scholarship.

In this context, it is worth noting a growing number of efforts by committed and
observant Jews who attempt to bridge tradition and scholarship in different ways. Their
conclusions sometimes attempt to push the boundaries of traditional understandings of faith in
the revelation of the Torah and Tanakh, but these scholars clearly attempt to ascertain religious
meaning in Tanakh and live religiously committed lives. 30 A leading scholar of the previous
generation was Louis Jacobs, Principles of Jewish Faith (New York: Basic Books, 1964,
reprinted 1988). A few significant contemporary contributions in this genre are the essays edited
by Tovah Ganzel, Yehudah Brandes & Chayuta Deutsch, The Believer and the Modern Study of
the Bible (Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2019); Norman Solomon, Torah from Heaven: The
Reconstruction of Faith (Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2012); and Benjamin
D. Sommer, Revelation and Authority: Sinai in Jewish Scripture and Tradition (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 2015). 31 The website, TheTorah.com, similarly contains many pertinent
essays.


Mikraot Gedolot HaKeter
One other project of note is the monumental Mikraot Gedolot HaKeter, edited by
Menahem Cohen (Bar-Ilan University). This series presents the biblical text based on the Aleppo
Codex, and carefully edited critical editions of the classical medieval commentators. 32


Conclusion
The ideal learning framework espouses traditional beliefs, regards study as a means to a
religious end, and defines issues carefully, while striving for intellectual openness and honesty.
Reaching this synthesis is difficult, since it requires passionate commitment alongside an effort
at detachment while learning, in order to refine knowledge and understanding.


The literary-theological approach in contemporary Orthodox Tanakh study is an
outstanding paradigm of this outlook and methodology. It combines a commitment to God and
Torah coupled with an unwavering sense of intellectual honesty and pursuit of scholarship to
further religious development and experience through learning.


Finally, and most importantly, as Shalom Carmy regularly emphasizes, our primary focus
must be the encounter of God’s word in Tanakh, rather than the study of ancillary subjects such
as history, linguistics, or literature for their own sake. Nor should we become overly distracted
by the challenges of Bible Criticism:


To the extent that we take seriously some of the things noticed by the critics that
were previously overlooked, or in the case of the great Jewish exegetes, were
noticed unsystematically, it is the task of contemporary Orthodox students to
show how the Torah coheres in the light of our belief in Torah mi-Sinai. The goal
of those engaged in this activity… is not primarily to refute the Documentary
Hypothesis but rather to do justice to worthwhile questions within the larger
framework of Torah study. 33


We are privileged to live in a generation where a growing number of scholars and
educators employ the highest caliber scholarship in the pursuit of religious truth in Tanakh.


Notes

1 I thank Rabbis Shalom Carmy, Yitzchak Etshalom, and Moshe Sokolow for reviewing earlier
drafts of this essay and making valuable comments and suggestions.
2 Yoshi Fargeon surveys rabbinic sources that maintain that there are minor instances of post-
Mosaic authorship in the Torah. See his “Wisdom and Knowledge Will be Given to You,” in The
Believer and the Modern Study of the Bible, ed. Tova Ganzel, Yehudah Brandes, and Chayuta
Deutsch (Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2019), pp. 42–62. See also Marc B. Shapiro, The
Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles Reappraised (Oxford: Littman
Library of Jewish Civilization, 2004), pp. 91–121; Mordechai Breuer, “On Bible Criticism”
(Hebrew), Megadim 30 (1999), pp. 97–107.
3 See Yuval Cherlow, “Ask the Rabbi: ‘Biblical Criticism is Destroying My Faith!’,” in The
Believer and the Modern Study of the Bible, ed. Tova Ganzel et al., pp. 288–299.
4 Shalom Carmy, “A Room with a View, but a Room of Our Own,” in Modern Scholarship in the
Study of Torah: Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy (Northvale, NJ: Jason
Aronson Inc., 1996), pp. 1–38.
5 See, for example, Berakhot 31a, Yevamot 71a, and many others.
6 Torat Etzion: New Readings in Parashat HaShavua, Bereshit (Hebrew), ed. Ezra Bick and
Yonatan Feintuch (Jerusalem: Maggid Press, 2014), pp. 11–18. For a review of that book and its
methodology, see Hayyim Angel, “From Etzion Comes Torah: Yeshivat Har Etzion Faculty on
the Book of Genesis,” in Angel, The Keys to the Palace: Essays Exploring the Religious Value of
Reading the Bible (New York: Kodesh Press, 2017), pp. 18–35.
7 Introduction to his commentary on Pirkei Avot (Shemonah Perakim).
8 See, for example, Ephraim E. Urbach, “The Pursuit of Truth as a Religious Obligation”
(Hebrew), in ha-Mikra va-Anahnu, ed. Uriel Simon (Ramat-Gan: Institute for Judaism and
Thought in Our Time, 1979), pp. 13–27; Uriel Simon, “The Pursuit of Truth that Is Required for
Fear of God and Love of Torah” (Hebrew), ibid., pp. 28–41; Marvin Fox, “Judaism, Secularism,
and Textual Interpretation,” in Modern Jewish Ethics: Theory and Practice, ed. Marvin Fox
(Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1975), pp. 3–26.
9 Some of this section is adapted from Hayyim Angel, “The Literary-Theological Study of
Tanakh,” in Angel, Peshat Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to
Bible Study (New York: Kodesh Press, 2014), pp. 118–136.
10 After completing the series, two of its leading contributors and editors, Yehudah Kiel and
Amos Hakham, wrote a short book describing the history and goals of the series, Epilogue to the
Da’at Mikra Commentary (Hebrew) (Jerusalem: Keter, 2003).
11 For a collection of Elitzur’s seminal essays, see Yehudah Elitzur, Yisrael ve-ha-Mikra:
Mehkarim Geografi’im Histori’im ve-Hagoti’im (Hebrew), ed. Yoel Elitzur and Amos Frisch
(Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan University Press, 1999).
12 For more on her work, see especially Yael Unterman, Nehama Leibowitz: Teacher and Bible
Scholar (Jerusalem: Urim, 2009); Pirkei Nehama: Nehama Leibowitz Memorial Volume
(Hebrew), ed. Moshe Ahrend, Ruth Ben-Meir, and Gavriel H. Cohn (Jerusalem: Eliner Library,
The Joint Authority for Jewish Zionist Education, Department for Torah and Culture in the
Diaspora, 2001); Hayyim Angel, Review Essay: “Pirkei Nehama: Nehama Leibowitz Memorial
Volume: The Paradox of Parshanut: Are Our Eyes on the Text, or on the Commentators?” in
Angel, Peshat Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to Bible Study,
pp. 36–57.

13 For analysis of Breuer’s method, see Amnon Bazak, Until This Very Day: Fundamental
Questions in Bible Study (Hebrew), ed. Yoshi Farajun (Tel Aviv: Yediot Aharonot, 2013), pp.
109–139; Shalom Carmy, “Concepts of Scripture in Mordechai Breuer,” in Jewish Concepts of
Scripture: A Comparative Introduction, ed. Benjamin D. Sommer (New York: New York
University Press, 2012), pp. 267–279; Meir Ekstein, “Rabbi Mordechai Breuer and Modern
Orthodox Biblical Commentary,” Tradition 33:3 (Spring 1999), pp. 6–23. For a collection of
Breuer’s articles on his methodology, and important responses to his work, see The Theory of
Aspects of Rabbi Mordechai Breuer (Hebrew), ed. Yosef Ofer (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2005). For
case studies of Breuer’s methodology, see especially Breuer’s Pirkei Mo’adot (Jerusalem:
Horev, 1989), Pirkei Bereshit (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 1998), and Pirkei Mikra’ot (Alon Shevut:
Tevunot, 2009).
14 See especially Yoel Bin-Nun, “Teguvah le-Divrei Amos Hakham be-Inyan Torat ha-Te’udot
ve-Shittat haBehinot” (Hebrew), Megadim 4 (Tishri 1987), p. 91; Shalom Carmy, “Concepts of
Scripture in Mordechai Breuer,” op. cit.
15 See the criticisms of Breuer’s position by Shalom Carmy, “Introducing Rabbi Breuer,” in
Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah: Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy, p.
157; and Shnayer Z. Leiman, “Response to Rabbi Breuer,” pp. 181-187.
16 For fuller analysis of Bin-Nun’s methodology, including citations to many of his published
articles through 2006, see Hayyim Angel, “Torat Hashem Temima: The Contributions of Rav
Yoel Bin-Nun to Religious Tanakh Study,” in Angel, Revealed Texts, Hidden Meanings: Finding
the Religious Significance in Tanakh (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav-Sephardic Publication Foundation,
2009), pp. 30–47. Many of Bin-Nun’s articles are archived at https://www.yoel-binnun.com/.
17 Iyyunim be-Parashot ha-Shavua (series 1, 2, and 3), ed. Ayal Fishler (Ma’aleh Adumim:
Ma’aliyot, 2002, 2004, 2012). For an overview of Rabbi Samet’s methodology, see Hayyim
Angel, “Review of Rabbi Elhanan Samet, Iyyunim be-Parashot haShavua,” in Angel, Through
an Opaque Lens, revised second edition (New York: Kodesh Press, 2013), pp. 6–18. See also
Samet’s books, Pirkei Eliyahu (Ma’aleh Adumim: Ma’aliyot, 2003), Pirkei Elisha (Ma’aleh
Adumim: Ma’aliyot, 2007), Iyyunim be-Mizmorei Tehillim (Tel Aviv: Yediot Aharonot, 2012).
Many of his articles are archived in English translation at the Virtual Beit Midrash of Yeshivat
Har Etzion, at http://www.vbm-torah.org.
18 Carmy gives an overview of his own methodology in “A Room with a View, but a Room of
Our Own,” in Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah: Contributions and Limitations, ed.
Shalom Carmy, pp. 1–38. See also especially his “To Get the Better of Words: An Apology for
Yir’at Shamayim in Academic Jewish Studies,” Torah U-Madda Journal 2 (1990), pp. 7–24;
“Always Connect,” in Where the Yeshiva Meets the University: Traditional and Academic
Approaches to Tanakh Study, ed. Hayyim Angel, Conversations 15 (Winter 2013), pp. 1–12. For
a bibliography of his published writings through 2012, see Rav Shalom Banayikh: Essays
Presented to Rabbi Shalom Carmy by Friends and Students in Celebration of Forty Years of
Teaching, ed. Hayyim Angel and Yitzchak Blau (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav, 2012), pp. 403–414.
19 See his articles archived at the Tanach Study Center, at http://www.tanach.org.
20 See his books: David u-Bat Sheva: ha-Het, ha-Onesh, ve-ha-Tikkun (Alon Shevut: Tevunot,
2002); Daniel: Galut ve-Hitgalut (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2006); Tikvah mi-Ma’amakim: Iyyun
be-Megillat Rut (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2007); Ki Karov Elekha: Leshon Mikra u-Leshon
Hakhamim (Tel-Aviv: Yediot Aharonot, 2014); Ha-Mikraot ha-Mithaddeshim: Iyyunim be-
Nevi’im u-Ketuvim (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2015); Ani Kohelet: Makhelat Kolot be-Demut Ahat

(with Yoel Bin-Nun) (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2017); Iyyov: Ben Hoshekh la-Or (Alon Shevut:
Tevunot, 2019). For a review of his work, see Yaakov Beasley, “The Methodology of Creativity:
A Review of Rav Yaakov Medan’s Contribution to the Modern Study of Tanakh,” Tradition
45:1 (Spring 2012), pp. 61–77.
21 In addition to the prolific writings of Shalom Carmy, see especially Yitzchak Etshalom,
Between the Lines of the Bible: Recapturing the Full Meaning of the Biblical Text (Brooklyn:
Yashar, 2006), two volumes; Nathaniel Helfgot, Mikra & Meaning: Studies in Bible and Its
Interpretation (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2012); Moshe Sokolow, Hatzi Nehamah: Studies in the
Weekly Parashah Based on the Lessons of Nehama Leibowitz (Jerusalem, New York: Urim,
Lambda, 2008); In The Company of Prophets: Reflections on Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings
(New York: Kodesh Press, 2021); Hayyim Angel, Through an Opaque Lens (New York:
Sephardic Publication Foundation, 2006); Revealed Texts, Hidden Meanings: Finding the
Religious Significance in Tanakh (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav-Sephardic Publication Foundation,
2009); Creating Space between Peshat and Derash: A Collection of Studies on Tanakh (Jersey
City, NJ: Ktav-Sephardic Publication Foundation, 2011); Vision from the Prophet and Counsel
from the Elders: A Survey of Nevi’im and Ketuvim (New York: Orthodox Union, 2013); Peshat
Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to Bible Study (New York:
Kodesh Press, 2014); Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi: Prophecy in an Age of Uncertainty
(Jerusalem: Maggid, 2016); The Keys to the Palace: Essays Exploring the Religious Value of
Reading the Bible (New York: Kodesh Press, 2017); Cornerstones: The Bible and Jewish
Ideology (New York: Kodesh Press, 2020); Psalms: A Companion Volume (New York: Kodesh
Press, 2022).
22 Torah MiEtzion: New Readings in Tanakh, ed. Ezra Bick and Yaakov Beasley (Jerusalem:
Maggid, Yeshivat Har Etzion, 2011).
23 Bereshit: Sipuran shel Hathalot (Yediot Aharonot, 2017); Avraham: Sipuro shel Massa
(Yediot Aharonot, 2014); Yaakov: Sipuro shel Mishpahah (Yediot Aharonot, 2019); Yosef:
Sipuram shel Halomot (Yediot Aharonot, 2021; Megillat Ruth: Gesharim u-Gevulot (Alon
Shevut: Tevunot, 2016); with Asael Abelman, Kohelet: Sedek shel Or (Maggid Books, 2023);
Esther: Megillat Setarim (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2013); Galui u-Mutzpan: Al Kamah mi-Darkhei
ha-Itzuv shel ha-Sippur Mikrai (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2015). For analysis of Grossman’s first
volume on Genesis and his methodology, see Hayyim Angel, “Where Literary Analysis Leads to
the Fear of God,” Tradition 51:4 (Fall 2019), pp. 181–192.
24 Moshe Shamah, Recalling the Covenant: A Contemporary Commentary on the Five Books of
the Torah (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav, 2011). See also Hayyim Angel, Review Essay: “Seeking the
Keys to the Palace Gates: Rabbi Moshe Shamah’s Commentary on the Torah,” in Angel, Peshat
Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to Bible Study, pp. 137–154.
25 A notable exception was Nehama Leibowitz. Moshe Ahrend observes that Nehama drew on a
wide variety of sources, but generally avoided ancient Near Eastern sources. Nehama appears to
have been concerned that whatever benefits might be derived from such inquiry could be
neutralized by the religious dangers inherent in considering a divine text in light of human-
authored parallels (“From My Work with Nehama, of Blessed Memory” [Hebrew], in Pirkei
Nehama: Nehama Leibowitz Memorial Volume, ed. Moshe Ahrend, Ruth Ben-Meir and Gavriel
H. Cohn [Jerusalem: Eliner Library, The Joint Authority for Jewish Zionist Education,
Department for Torah and Culture in the Diaspora, 2001], pp. 31–49). Moshe Sokolow relates
further that “when invited by Da’at Mikra to prepare their commentary on Bereishit, Nehama

declined. When I asked her why, she replied: Because I don’t know the ancient Near East! When
I pointed out that she always hastened to eschew ancient Near Eastern texts, she clarified: One
can understand Bereishit without the ancient Near East, but one cannot write a commentary on
Bereishit without it” (Studies in the Weekly Parashah Based on the Lessons of Nehama Leibowitz
[Jerusalem: Urim, 2008], pp. 274–275).
26 See further discussion and examples in Hayyim Angel, Foreword to Yoel Elitzur, Places in the
Parasha: Biblical Geography and Its Meaning (Jerusalem: Maggid Press, 2020), pp. xv–xxv.
Abridged in Tradition Online, at https://traditiononline.org/review-places-in-the-parasha/.
27 See my reviews at Tradition Online, at https://traditiononline.org/11255-2/;
https://traditiononline.org/review-tanakh-of-the-land-of-israel-samuel;
https://traditiononline.org/traditions-2023-book-endorsements/.
28 This section is adapted from Hayyim Angel, “Faith and Scholarship Can Walk Together: Rabbi
Amnon Bazak on the Challenges of Academic Bible Study in Traditional Learning,” in Angel,
The Keys to the Palace: Essays Exploring the Religious Value of Reading the Bible, pp. 58–75.
For further discussion and sources of several critical issues and their intersection with rabbinic
tradition, see Moshe Sokolow, Tanakh: An Owner’s Manual: Authorship, Canonization,
Masoretic Text, Exegesis, Modern Scholarship and Pedagogy (Brooklyn, NY: Ktav, 2015). See
also the collection of essays in Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah: Contributions and
Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson Inc., 1996).
29 For further discussion, see Hayyim Angel, Review of Ani Maamin, Tradition 52:2 (Spring
2020), pp. 142–150. Many of Berman’s arguments in the first half of his book are summaries of
his two earlier academic books published by Oxford University Press: Inconsistency in the
Torah: Ancient Literary Convention and the Limits of Source Criticism (2017), and Created
Equal: How the Bible Broke from Ancient Political Thought (2008). Because Ani Maamin is
primarily addressed to the Orthodox community, Berman is careful to demonstrate the continuity
of his ideas and methodology with classical rabbinic sources.
30 See the important discussion of Mordechai Breuer, “The Study of Bible and the Primacy of the
Fear of Heaven: Compatibility or Contradiction,” in Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah:
Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy, pp. 159–180.
31 For further discussion, see Hayyim Angel, Review Essay: “When Blurring Peshat and Derash
Creates a New Theology: A Critique of ‘Participatory Revelation,’” Tradition 54:4 (Fall 2022),
pp. 134–145. Review of Benjamin D. Sommer, Revelation & Authority (2015), and The
Revelation at Sinai: What Does ‘Torah from Heaven’ Mean? (2021). Edited by Yoram Hazony,
Gil Student, and Alex Sztuden.
32 For further discussion, see Nathaniel Helfgot, “ ‘Mikra’ot Gedolot ha-Keter’ (Bar-Ilan
University), ed. Menahem Cohen,” Ten Da’at 14 (2001), pp. 29–38.
33 Shalom Carmy, “A Peshat in the Dark: Reflections on the Age of Cary Grant,” Tradition 43:1
(Spring 2010), pp. 4–5. For further discussions of the religious implications of this learning
methodology, see, for example, the essays collected in Hi Sihati, My Constant Delight:
Contemporary Religious Zionist Perspectives on Tanakh Study, ed. Yehoshua Reiss (Hebrew)
(Jerusalem: Maggid-Yeshivat Har Etzion, 2013); Nathaniel Helfgot, “Between Heaven and
Earth: Curricula, Pedagogical Choices, Methodologies, and Values in the Study and Teaching of
Tanakh,” in Helfgot, Mikra & Meaning: Studies in Bible and Its Interpretation (Jerusalem:
Maggid, 2012), pp. 1–53.

Light and Shadows: Thoughts for Hanukkah

 

 

The Talmud (Shabbat 21b) records a famous debate between the Schools of Shammai and Hillel as to how to light the Hanukkah lights.  Bet Shammai rules that we should light 8 lights the first night, and then subtract one light each ensuing night. After all, the original miracle of the oil in the Temple would have entailed the oil diminishing a bit each day.

Bet Hillel rules that we should light one light the first night, and then increase the number of lights night after night. (This is the accepted practice.) A reason is suggested: in matters of holiness, we increase rather than decrease. The miracle of Hanukkah is more beautifully observed with the increasing of lights; it would be anti-climactic to diminish the lights with each passing night.

Increasing lights is an appealing concept, both aesthetically and spiritually. But the increase of light might also be extended to refer to the increase in knowledge. The more we study, the more we are enlightened. When we cast light on a problem, we clarify the issues. We avoid falling into error. The more light we enjoy, the less we succumb to shadows and illusions.

Aesop wisely noted: Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow. It is all too easy to make mistaken judgments by chasing shadows rather than realities.

Professor Daniel Kahneman, the Israeli Nobel Prize winner in Economics, has coined the phrase “illusion of validity.” He points out that we tend to think that our own opinions and intuitions are correct. We tend to overlook hard data that contradict our worldview and to dismiss arguments that don’t coincide with our own conception of things. We operate under the illusion that our ideas, insights, intuitions are valid; we don’t let facts or opposing views get in our way.

The illusion of validity leads to innumerable errors, to wrong judgments, to unnecessary confrontations. If we could be more open and honest, self-reflective, willing to entertain new ideas and to correct erroneous assumptions—we would find ourselves in a better, happier and more humane world.

In her powerful book, “The March of Folly,” Barbara Tuchman studied the destructive behavior of leaders from antiquity to the Vietnam War. She notes: “A phenomenon noticeable throughout history regardless of place or period is the pursuit by government of policies contrary to their own interests.” She points out: “Government remains the paramount area of folly because it is there that men seek power over others—only to lose it over themselves.”

But why should people with political power succumb to policies that are wrong-headed and dangerous? Tuchman suggests that the lust for power is one ingredient in this folly. Another ingredient is an unwillingness to admit that one has made a misjudgment. Leaders keep pursuing bad policies and bad wars because they do not want to admit to the public that they’ve been wrong. So more people are hurt, and more generations are lost—all because the leaders won’t brook dissent, won’t consider other and better options, won’t yield any of their power, won’t admit that they might be wrong. These leaders are able to march into folly because the public at large allows them to get away with it. Until a vocal and fearless opposition arises, the “leaders” trample on the heads of the public. They are more concerned with their own power politics, than for the needs and wellbeing of their constituents.

The march of folly is not restricted to political power. It is evident in all types of organizational life. The leader or leaders make a decision; the decision is flawed; it causes dissension; it is based on the wrong factors. Yet, when confronted with their mistake, they will not back down. They have invested their own egos in their decision and will not admit that they were wrong. Damage—sometimes irreparable damage—ensues, causing the organization or institution to diminish or to become unfaithful to its original mission. The leader/s march deeper and deeper into folly; they refuse to see the light.

Bet Hillel taught the importance of increasing light. Shedding more light leads to clearer thinking. It enables people to see errors, to cast off shadows and cling to truth.

It takes great wisdom and courage to avoid having the illusion of validity. It takes great wisdom and courage to evaluate and re-evaluate decisions, to shed honest light on the situation, to be flexible enough to change direction when the light of reason so demands.

The lights of Hanukkah remind us of the importance of increasing the light of holiness and knowledge. As we learn to increase light, we learn to seek reality and truth---and to avoid grasping at shadows and illusions.

 

 

Remembering Not to Forget: Thoughts for Parashat Vayeshev

Angel for Shabbat—Parashat Vayeshev

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel

 

“And the chief butler did not remember Joseph, and he forgot him” (Bereshith 40:23)

Joseph successfully interpreted the butler’s dream, assuring him that he would soon be released from prison and regain his former position in Pharaoh’s court. Joseph then asked the butler to intercede on his behalf so that Joseph too could be freed from prison where he had been unjustly held.

But when the butler regained his freedom, the Torah informs us that he 1) did not remember Joseph and 2) he forgot Joseph. While these phrases seem redundant, they point to two different things.

The butler did not remember Joseph. He was busy with his responsibilities. He had a lot on his mind. It is natural enough for people not to remember to say thank you, or to ignore responsibilities that are not pressing. If they are reminded, they might then take the proper action.

But willfully forgetting is another matter. It is not only a matter of being too busy or too careless to remember. It is about pushing the obligation far into the back of one’s mind so that it is almost totally inaccessible. The butler not only didn’t remember Joseph; he forgot Joseph. Joseph wasn’t even a faint memory tugging at his consciousness. Only after two years was the butler’s memory jarred when Pharaoh needed his dreams to be interpreted. Only then, when the butler thought he could be useful to Pharaoh, did he remember Joseph.

Like the butler, we sometimes don’t remember things because we are preoccupied with other seemingly more pressing matters. We don’t remember to call a friend; or to make that contribution; or to express appreciation to those who have helped us. A gentle reminder might get us back on track.

But sometimes, we deeply forget.  We don’t feel tugs of guilt or remorse; we proceed with life as though the memories simply don’t exist. It takes a jolt to make us retrieve the past. Maybe it’s a life crisis. Maybe it’s the passing of a loved one. Maybe it’s an urgent cry from someone in need. 

All people sometimes don’t remember something or someone important. This is unfortunate but understandable. But it is more problematic when one insensitively and actively forgets something or someone important. 

Are there people and things we should be remembering…but we’re not remembering? A little mindfulness can help us. But are there people and things we have forgotten about…and most definitely should not have forgotten about? We need to think carefully and not wait for a crisis to awaken our memory.

The butler didn’t remember Joseph; that was bad. The butler forgot Joseph; that was very bad.

Now, let’s apply the lesson to ourselves!

Please Stand With Us: End of Year Campaign

Please Stand With Us: End of Year Campaign

Embracing Tradition and Modernity: The Religious Vision of Rabbi Haim David Halevi

 

 

Introduction

 

            Rabbi Haim David Halevi (1923–1998) was born in Jerusalem, served as Chief Rabbi of Rishon LeTzion from 1951 to1973, and then served as Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv-Jaffa from 1973 until his death in 1998. He learned Torah at Yeshivat Porat Yosef in Jerusalem, where Rabbi Benzion Uziel was the official Rosh Yeshiva. Most rabbis who taught in the yeshiva were less Zionist, and looked askance at Rabbi Uziel’s stress on Jewish thought and philosophy. These other teachers stressed study of Talmud and halakhah.[1]

            As a student, Rabbi Halevi viewed Rabbi Uziel as the exemplary rabbi, who combined intellect, knowledge, communication, leadership, moral stature, commitment to his people, love, and compassion. Throughout his life, Rabbi Halevi maintained that Rabbi Uziel modeled the ideal religious position of the school of Hillel, as he combined halakhic expertise with a deep sensitivity to the human predicament (Asei Lekha Rav 5:48; 8:97[2]).[3]

Rabbi Halevi also espoused Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook’s diagnosis of contemporary Jewish society. Many spiritual ills derive from the artificial separation of halakhah and aggadah. In his introduction to Mekor Hayyim HaShalem (pp. 9–20), he stressed the urgent need to bring halakhah and aggadah together to infuse Jewish life with the proper spirit. In his extensive writings, Rabbi Halevi also drew heavily from kabbalah, and stressed that human intellect has limitations.[4]

            Acceptance of the halakhic system means commitment to eternal principles that apply to every time. Rabbi Halevi taught that rabbis need to have general worldly knowledge and to be in touch with reality to apply Torah properly.

Rabbi Halevi was fairly conservative within classical sources, and deferential to his predecessors. At the same time, he emphasized the inherent flexibility in halakhah, since there are many options within the boundaries of halakhic discourse. If one shuts down legitimate options, one harms the Jewish people and observance.

 

Science[5]

 

            Rabbi Halevi addressed a wide range of issues pertaining to the interface between science and halakhah. For example, there is a halakhic principle to praise God for natural wonders, such as thunder, lightning, and rainbows. The Talmud codifies blessings for each phenomenon.

However, the Talmud considers solar and lunar eclipses to be signs of divine wrath:

 

The Rabbis taught in a Baraita: At the time that the sun is stricken, it is a bad omen for the entire world…. It has been taught in a Baraita: Rabbi Meir says, whenever the luminaries are stricken, it is a bad omen for the Jewish people…. (Sukkah 29a)

 

Someone asked Rabbi Halevi if we should make a blessing on solar eclipses today, since we now know that they are natural phenomena that are predictable.[6] Rabbi Halevi did not defend the talmudic belief; he agreed that eclipses were natural phenomena and should require a blessing. However, he maintained that we should not create new blessings that are not found in the Talmud. Therefore, he recommended that instead of making a full blessing with God’s Name, one should say the beginning of “Vayevarekh David,” biblical verses containing the essentials of the blessing formula.[7] Thus, while conceding that the ancient rabbis had incomplete scientific data, he was not willing to coin a blessing that the Talmud had not ordained. By advocating a recitation of biblical verses that have a formula similar to a blessing, Rabbi Halevi was able to remain faithful to the Talmud while accepting current scientific knowledge.[8]

            In another example, halakhah insists that people take care of their health, and not harm their bodies. In 1976, someone asked Rabbi Halevi if smoking was permissible, given the growing body of evidence that smoking is harmful to one’s health. Despite the fact that many earlier rabbis had permitted smoking, Rabbi Halevi made a landmark ruling prohibiting it.[9] He explained that earlier rabbis had permitted smoking only because the scientific research demonstrating the dangers of smoking was not yet available.[10]

However, Rabbi Halevi did not always fully accept current scientific knowledge. In Mekor Hayyim HaShalem,[11] he uncritically cited Rambam’s ruling that killing bugs created by spontaneous generation is not a punishable offense on Shabbat (generally, it is a Torah prohibition to take the life of any living creature on Shabbat):

 

One who kills insects and worms that are conceived through male-female relations or fleas that came into being from the dust is liable as if he killed an animal or beast. In contrast, one is not liable for killing insects and worms that came into being from dung, rotten fruit, or the like, e.g., the worms found in meat or legumes.

 

It is permitted to kill lice on Shabbat, for they come into being from sweat. (Rambam, Laws of Shabbat 11:2–3)

 

Someone challenged Rabbi Halevi’s ruling based on current scientific knowledge, which has disproven spontaneous generation. Rabbi Halevi responded that he had no clear answer.[12] Perhaps he, like other halakhic decisors, was concerned that there is an additional reason underlying the Talmud’s permission to kill lice, in which case we cannot prohibit that which is permitted. Or, perhaps Rabbi Halevi had a more general reluctance to conclude that a talmudic halakhah is based on an error.[13]

 

Non-Observant Jews

 

Several classical sources say that the commandment of “Love Your Neighbor as Yourself” (Leviticus 19:18) applies exclusively to a “neighbor” in mitzvah observance. According to these sources, one should hate violators of the commandments.[14] Adopting the view of a number of halakhic decisors beginning in the nineteenth century, Rabbi Halevi rejected the application of that principle to modern times. Nowadays, many Jews violate the Torah, and are generally not willful transgressors in the classical sense.

Rabbi Halevi maintained that observant Jews should be strong in their commitments, but should not show disdain to less observant Jews, nor impose coercive measures to force them to be more observant. Instead, observant Jews should model proper behavior and teach the path of Torah. Perhaps others will be persuaded to return to a Torah lifestyle.

 

Women

 

In his ruling prohibiting the teaching of Oral Law to women, Rambam stated that a majority of women were incapable of understanding the concepts involved:

 

Even though [a woman studying Torah] will receive reward, the Sages commanded that one should not teach his daughter Torah, because most women cannot concentrate their attention on study, and thus transform the words of Torah into idle matters because of their lack of understanding. The Sages teach that anyone who teaches his daughter Torah teaches her idle things. This statement is in regard to the Oral Law. But [with regard to] the Written Law: Initially, one should not teach one’s daughter. However, if one teaches her, it is not considered as if she was taught idle things. (Laws of Torah Study 1:13)

 

Despite Rambam’s ruling, however, Rabbi Halevi noted that the success of women in so many academic fields militated against its underlying premise. Already in the eighteenth century, Rabbi Hayyim Yosef David Azulai (HIDA) listed historical instances of learned women who gave halakhic rulings. Rabbi Halevi demonstrated that within Rambam’s wording, one could permit women to study Talmud. A woman who demonstrated a willingness and capacity to study the Oral Law was not part of the “incapable majority” described by Rambam.[15] In this responsum, Rabbi Halevi did not attempt to show that Rambam’s ruling was no longer applicable. Rather, he worked within the existing textual framework to reach his conclusion.

Rabbi Halevi’s commitment to that earlier source became more pronounced in a later discussion, where he responded to members of a religious kibbutz that had begun teaching Talmud to girls.[16] The leaders of the kibbutz had complained that in light of the change in women’s social status, rabbis should have addressed the issue of females studying Talmud. Rabbi Halevi responded that (1) he did address the matter in his earlier responsum; and (2) his response had nothing to do with the current change in the social status of women. He had quoted Rabbi Azulai, who lived in the eighteenth century, to support his permissive ruling. “From here, we see that rabbis in all generations, including before there were changes in the social status of women, never rebuked women who studied Torah.” Rabbi Halevi also criticized the kibbutz leaders for suggesting that halakhot may be eliminated on the basis of social change.

In the final analysis, Rabbi Halevi reached the same halakhic decision as the kibbutz leaders, permitting and encouraging women to study the Oral Law—but they arrived at their conclusions from different starting points. Rabbi Halevi represented faithfulness to the precedents of the past, whereas the kibbutz had hoped to bypass those precedents as a result of a new social reality.

At the end of his responsum, Rabbi Halevi exhorted the members of the kibbutz:

 

Our rabbis were great of spirit and deep of mind; would that we could even understand their words…. They were not only great in Torah and wisdom, but also in their holiness. Therefore, it is appropriate for a person to relate to their words with all respect due to them.

 

Rabbi Halevi demonstrated the same consistent balance between faithfulness to Rambam’s ruling and finding permissibility for women to study the Oral Law in his guidebook for halakhot pertaining to women, Mekor Hayyim Livnot Yisrael.[17] In discussing the halakhic exemption for women to study Torah, Rabbi Halevi quoted Rambam’s ruling in full, that a father should not teach his daughters the Oral Law. In the footnote, however, he cited his own responsum (which was subsequently published in Asei Lekha Rav 2:52) that explained the permissibility of women studying Oral Law within Rambam’s formulation. By citing Rambam’s restrictive ruling in the body of the text, and his own permissive ruling in a footnote, Rabbi Halevi presented the fine balance of his educational philosophy: Anyone motivated enough to read his lengthy footnote is indeed qualified to study the Oral Law! One simply reading his book with the rulings in the body of the text probably would not have sufficient motivation to study halakhah from its roots, including its talmudic underpinnings.[18]

            Rabbi Halevi also adopted his mentor Rabbi Uziel’s ruling that women may vote and be elected to public office. The halakhic prohibition against women holding positions of authority applies only when people object to having women as leaders. However, if they are democratically elected, they may hold public office.

            Rabbi Halevi opposed several ritual innovations for women. For example, he opposed women’s prayer groups and women’s recitation of sheva berakhot at weddings. He viewed these innovations as a break in tradition and a breach of modesty, respectively. At the same time, he stressed that his rulings were based on his assessment of reality, rather than halakhic prohibitions.

 

Conclusion

 

            In the areas of modern science, relating to non-observant Jews, and the changing roles of women in the modern era, Rabbi Halevi developed an approach that was faithful to classical halakhah and its sources, while simultaneously having both eyes open to new realities. He sought to apply ancient halakhic principles to the modern period in every arena.

            Rabbi Halevi also consciously recognized the critical importance for halakhic decisors to understand earlier halakhic precedents, not as a constraint, but rather to ensure maximal flexibility in interpreting the law in the present:

 

And one is very mistaken who thinks that the halakhah is frozen and that one should not veer from it to the right nor to the left. On the contrary, there is no flexibility like the flexibility of halakhah. Only due to the merit of the flexibility of the halakhah has the people of Israel been able—through the power of numerous and useful creative interpretations which were innovated by the sages of Israel in each generation—to walk in the way of Torah observance for thousands of years. And if the fortitude of the sages of our generation will serve them to innovate interpretations of halakhah [getting at the] truth of Torah, with total faithfulness to the bodies of written and transmitted halakhah…, then halakhah will continue to be the way of the people of Israel to the end of all generations. (Asei Lekha Rav 7:54)

 

 

[1] R. Marc D. Angel with Hayyim Angel, Rabbi Haim David Halevi: Gentle Scholar, Courageous Thinker (Jerusalem: Urim, 2006), p. 13.

[2] R. Marc D. Angel translated 8:97 into English, and it is published as “The Love of Israel as a Factor in Halakhic Decision-Making in the Works of Rabbi Benzion Uziel,” Tradition 24:3 (Spring 1989), pp. 1–20. See also R. Marc D. Angel, Loving Truth and Peace: The Grand Religious Worldview of Rabbi Benzion Uziel (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1999), pp. 101–107.

[3] See further discussion in Gentle Scholar, Courageous Thinker, pp. 54–69.

[4] Ibid., pp. 48–50.

[5] See further discussion in Gentle Scholar, Courageous Thinker, pp. 89–91.

[6] Asei Lekha Rav 5:7.

[7] “Then David blessed the Lord in the sight of all the congregation and said, ‘Blessed be You, Lord God of our father Israel for ever and ever. Yours, O Lord, are the greatness, power, glory, victory and majesty, all that is in the heavens and on earth’” (I Chronicles 29:10–11).

[8] See also Asei Lekha Rav 2:1, where Rabbi Halevi emphasized the importance of rabbis following current scientific information. See also Asei Lekha Rav 1:61; 5:13; 5:37; 6:44; 8:64; Mayim Hayyim 3:24.

[9] R. Shlomo Brody, A Guide to the Complex: Contemporary Halakhic Debates (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2014), pp. 24–26.

[10] Asei Lekha Rav 2:1; cf. 3:25; 6:58; 7:67. In contrast, R. Moshe Feinstein permitted smoking, because he did not want to criticize earlier generations of rabbis who had permitted smoking (Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh De’ah 2:49). For further study of contrasts between R. Halevi and R. Feinstein, see R. Marc D. Angel, “A Study of the Halakhic Approaches of Two Modern Posekim,” in Angel, Seeking Good, Speaking Peace: Collected Essays of Rabbi Marc D. Angel, ed. Hayyim Angel (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav, 1994), pp. 97–111.

[11] Volume 3, chapter 161, p. 291.

[12] Asei Lekha Rav 7: short answers 17.

[13] See also Mekor Hayyim HaShalem vol. 5, chapter 264, p. 235, where Rabbi Halevi uncritically quotes the talmudic ruling that one may not eat fish and meat together, since that combination poses a health hazard. See Mayim Hayyim 3:24, for an elaborate discussion of the interrelationship of traditional teachings and contemporary scientific knowledge.

[14] See, for example, Avot DeRabbi Natan A 16, Pesahim 113b, Rashbam (on Leviticus 19:18), Rambam, Laws of Mourning 14:1, Hagahot Maimoniyot on Laws of De’ot 6:3, Or HaHayyim (on Leviticus 19:18). This view reads “Love your neighbor as yourself” to mean “love your neighbor who is like you.” For further discussion, see R. Norman Lamm, “Loving and Hating Jews as Halakhic Categories,” Tradition 24:2 (Winter, 1989), pp. 98–122.

[15] Asei Lekha Rav 2:52.

[16] Mayim Hayyim 2:89.

[17] Chapter 50, pp. 205–208.

[18] See further discussion in Gentle Scholar, Courageous Thinker, pp. 118–120.

 

Afterlife in Jewish Thought

There is a paucity of explicit references to afterlife—whether a bodily resurrection or a soul world—in Tanakh. The Torah promises this-worldly rewards and punishments for faithfulness or lack thereof to God and the Torah. It does not promise heaven for righteousness, nor does it threaten hell or the absence of heaven for sinfulness. Given the ancient world’s belief in, and even obsession with immortality and afterlife, the Torah’s silence is all the more remarkable.

Aside from the lack of explicit references to afterlife in the Torah, one might have expected an appeal to afterlife in the Book of Job. For all the arguments raised by Job’s so-called friends, they never invoke afterlife in their attempts to vindicate Job’s unfair suffering. Rather, Job and his friends agree with the biblical premise that ultimate justice must occur during one’s lifetime. Job insisted that his suffering was unjust, whereas his friends assumed that he must have deserved his punishment. [1]

Assessing the Near Absence of Explicit References to Afterlife in Tanakh

Daniel, a late biblical book, does explicitly mention a bodily resurrection:

Many of those that sleep in the dust of the earth will awake, some to eternal life, others to reproaches, to everlasting abhorrence. And the knowledgeable will be radiant like the bright expanse of sky, and those who lead the many to righteousness will be like the stars forever and ever. (Dan. 12:2–3)

In his Treatise on the Resurrection, Rambam considers this passage to be the only explicit reference to resurrection in Tanakh. [2]

For some time, academic scholars generally concluded that since Tanakh does not explicitly mention resurrection until the Book of Daniel, resurrection must have been a later belief that crept into Israel toward the end of the biblical period from another religion, most likely Zoroastrianism.[3] Until that point, Israel’s prophets believed that when people die, they never return. This academic consensus ran against Jewish tradition, which insists that belief in resurrection goes back to the Torah, even if it is only alluded to and not mentioned explicitly:

The following have no portion [in the World to Come]: He who maintains that resurrection is not a biblical doctrine,[4] the Torah was not divinely revealed, and an epikoros…. (Sanhedrin 90a)

In 2006, however, Jon D. Levenson (Harvard University) published a book, Resurrection and the Restoration of Israel: The Ultimate Victory of the God of Life. He demonstrates that Jewish belief in resurrection has an extensive range of biblical antecedents, and that it did not simply appear late in the biblical period. Rather, resurrection is an essential component in Israel’s redemption, which itself redeems history. Thus, the classical rabbinic position is fundamentally correct, that the concepts underlying the resurrection trace back to the beginning of the biblical period.

Levenson explains that contemporary scholarship, rooted in the modern world with its emphasis on individualism, has a difficult time understanding the biblical concept of identity. If one asks, “Will I have life after death?” one already misses the heart of the matter. The biblical conception of afterlife is grounded in an identity inextricably linked to the nation of Israel, and ancestors and descendants also are completely linked. Jewish belief in resurrection is rooted in God’s promises to Israel, His power over life and death, and His preference for life. Although Daniel was the first to mention resurrection explicitly, the ideas underlying this resurrection trace back to the earliest texts in Tanakh.

Tanakh Assumes Afterlife

In addition to Levenson’s thesis, James Kugel cites several biblical verses that clearly presume an existence beyond life in this world.[5] For example, Abraham “was gathered to his kin” after he died:

And Abraham breathed his last, dying at a good ripe age, old and contented; and he was gathered to his kin. (Gen. 25:8)

Abraham could be “gathered to his kin,” regardless of where his ancestors were buried, and regardless of their relative righteousness. After all, Abraham rose to religious heights infinitely above his pagan father Terah.

Numerous other biblical references similarly suggest that death is not absolutely final. There are two mysterious deaths in Tanakh: God took Enoch (Gen. 5:24), and Elijah was taken to heaven in a fiery chariot (II Kings 2:11). Malachi prophesies that Elijah will return in the future as the harbinger of the messianic era (Mal. 3:23–24). A witch evidently conjured up Samuel’s spirit (I Sam. 28:11–14), and Elijah and Elisha revived dead children (I Kings 17:19–23; II Kings 4:32–36).

From these and several other references, Kugel convincingly concludes that

Some decades ago, the cliché about the Hebrew Bible was that it really has no notion of an afterlife or the return of the soul to God or a last judgment or a world to come. But such a claim will not withstand careful scrutiny. [6]

Why Does Tanakh Give Afterlife So Little Attention?

We have seen that Tanakh regularly alludes to a belief in an afterlife despite its not discussing it explicitly until the late Book of Daniel. Additionally, the notion of resurrection is fundamentally connected to beliefs that span back to the very beginnings of the biblical period. We now must ask, however, why does Tanakh give afterlife so little attention, and why is the covenant of the Torah entirely predicted on this-worldly existence?
Moshe David (Umberto) Cassuto sheds light on this issue in his analysis of the Garden of Eden narrative. There were two trees at the center of Eden. The Tree of Life seems supernatural. Were Adam and Eve to eat from it, they would have become immortal (Gen. 3:23). An expert in the literature of the ancient Near East, Cassuto observed that nearly every ancient mythology had a tree, a plant, or something else of life. This mythology reflects the obsessive quest for immortality in the ancient world.

In stark contrast with Israel’s surrounding cultures, the Torah decisively downplays the Tree of Life. That tree becomes significant to the narrative only after Adam and Eve sinned by eating from the Tree of Knowledge and were expelled from the Garden of Eden. God then sends Cherubim to prevent Adam and Eve from eating of the Tree of Life (Gen. 3:22–24).

To understand why the Torah would diminish the role of the Tree of Life, we must consider the tree that is central to the narrative, namely, the Tree of Knowledge. Whereas the Tree of Life appears supernatural, the Tree of Knowledge seems to have been a regular fruit tree. The Sages suggested that the Tree of Knowledge was a regular fruit, whether a fig, grapevine, wheat, or etrog (Gen. Rabbah 15:7). The effects of the fruit derived from God’s prohibition, rather than from any inherent supernatural property of the fruit.

Even though the Tree of Life was prevalent in other ancient literatures, the Tree of Knowledge is otherwise unattested. The Torah is a revolution in human history, shifting focus away from nonexistent mythical fruits that give immortality and replacing them with an emphasis on developing a genuine relationship with God. It teaches that we must live religious-moral lives and take personal responsibility for our actions. The ultimate vision of the prophets is a messianic world, which will achieve a perfected, religious-moral society.

Tellingly, the Book of Proverbs transforms the Tree of Life into Torah and wisdom:

She is a tree of life to those who grasp her, and whoever holds on to her is happy. (Prov. 3:18) [7]

The Jewish Tree of Life is Torah and wisdom, representing a lifelong religious quest, rather than a supernatural fruit that promises physical immortality. [8]

Despite the purposeful emphasis on this-worldly conduct and reward and punishment throughout Tanakh, rabbinic Judaism incorporated afterlife as an essential part of its system of understanding divine justice in this world. When did this change occur?

Malachi and Daniel: Using Afterlife to Vindicate Unfairness

The problem of the righteous suffering and the wicked prospering is a prominent difficulty that runs throughout Tanakh. The classical biblical wisdom approach to justify unfairness, particularly emphasized in Psalms and Proverbs, was to insist that the suffering of the righteous or the success of the wicked was a temporary state. Any injustices would be rectified during the lifetimes of the individuals. Job and Ecclesiastes challenge this approach, leaving unfairness as a matter that lies beyond human comprehension. [9]

Toward the end of the biblical period, the Books of Malachi and Daniel addressed a new situation. For the first time, the faithful suffered precisely because they were righteous, whereas the sinners were successful as a consequence of their wickedness. Divine justice was under siege, and many righteous Jews were sinking into despair and losing faith. No longer could one appeal to the classical prophetic responses rooted in the Torah, that national suffering occurs when Israel sins. It was specifically the most righteous people who were suffering, rather than the entire nation.

Rather than offering any short-term solutions, Malachi appealed to the messianic redemption to vindicate history:

You have wearied the Lord with your talk. But you ask, “By what have we wearied [Him]?” By saying, “All who do evil are good in the sight of the Lord, and in them He delights,” or else, “Where is the God of justice?” Behold, I am sending My messenger to clear the way before Me, and the Lord whom you seek shall come to His Temple suddenly. As for the angel of the covenant that you desire, he is already coming…He shall act like a smelter and purger of silver; and he shall purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, so that they shall present offerings in righteousness. Then the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem shall be pleasing to the Lord as in the days of yore and in the years of old…And you shall come to see the difference between the righteous and the wicked, between him who has served the Lord and him who has not served Him. (Mal. 2:17; 3:1–4, 18)

Daniel invoked the resurrection that would occur during this period of redemption to vindicate injustices (Dan. 12:2–3). The innovation of Malachi and Daniel was not belief in the messiah or resurrection. Rather, their primary innovation was in linking the classical problem of unfairness with afterlife. Their appeal to the future to vindicate unfairness was a formal concession that ultimate justice will not occur during one’s lifetime.

The Sages followed in this spirit, conceding that one requires afterlife to vindicate injustices in this world:

It was taught: Rabbi Jacob says, there is no precept in the Torah, where reward is stated by its side, from which you cannot infer the doctrine of the resurrection of the dead. Thus, in connection with honoring parents it is written: “That your days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with you” (Deut. 5:16). Again in connection with the law of letting [the dam] go from the nest it is written: “That it may be well with you, and that you may prolong your days” (Deut. 22:7). Now, in the case where a man’s father said to him, “Go up to the top of the building and bring me down some young birds,” and he went up to the top of the building, let the dam go and took the young ones, and on his return he fell and was killed-where is this man’s length of days, and where is this man’s happiness? But “that your days may be prolonged” refers to the world that is wholly long, and “that it may go well with you” refers to the world that is wholly good. (Hullin 142a)

Heaven and Resurrection: A Medieval Debate

A second major development in the Jewish discussion of afterlife arose with Rambam’s efforts to bridge Torah and Greek philosophy.[10] Rambam was enamored by the Platonic notion of a soul-world afterlife, and discusses heaven with great passion. Simultaneously, Rambam espoused the classical Jewish belief in messiah and the resurrection. Therefore, he concluded that in the messianic era there will be a resurrection, but then everyone will die again and return to their ideal existence in heaven.

In order to conflate the prophetic ideal of messiah with the Platonic ideal of a heavenly afterlife, Rambam insisted that the prophets and sages longed for the messianic age so that they could live without distraction and thereby work on earning a share in the World to Come:

The prophets and sages longed for the messianic era, not so that they could rule the world, not that they could dominate pagans, not to receive honor from the nations, nor to eat and drink and be merry. Rather, [they longed for it] so that they would be free to learn Torah and wisdom, and there would be no oppressor or distraction. In this way they would earn a share in the World to Come, as we explained in the Laws of Repentance. (Laws of Kings 12:4) [11]

Rambam’s preference of a soul-world over the biblical ideas of a this-world messianic era and resurrection did not go unnoticed or unchallenged. Some of Rambam’s critics accused him of denying the resurrection altogether, leading to his scathing retort in his Treatise on Resurrection. Granting his resolute belief in the resurrection, however, there is little question that Rambam radically shifted emphasis away from the biblical conception of a this-world ideal society to a soul-world ideal for each individual. [12]

This debate runs throughout all of Tanakh. For example, the most prevalent metaphorical interpretation in Jewish tradition casts the Song of Songs as symbolizing the historical covenantal relationship between God and Israel as a community (e.g., Targum, R. Saadyah Gaon, Rashi, Rashbam, and Ibn Ezra).[13] In contrast, Rambam interprets the Song of Songs as a symbol of the love between the religious individual and God. [14]

Rambam also insisted that a prophet needed to reach the highest intellectual and religious levels as a prerequisite to receiving prophetic revelation (Guide for the Perplexed II:32–45). In contrast, Rabbi Judah Halevi maintained that prophecy is a divine gift. Were God to deem it necessary to send a prophet on a mission, anyone could receive a prophetic message (Kuzari, e.g., 1:4; 1:87). Abarbanel (on Amos 1:1; 7:14) supports Rabbi Halevi’s view, insisting that a prophet’s mission to his people, and not his personal perfection, is the defining characteristic of biblical prophecy. Abarbanel concluded that Rambam derived his conception of prophecy, which favors individual spirituality over one’s communal mission, from Greek philosophy, and this understanding is inconsistent with traditional Jewish thought.

To summarize, the Torah and prophets emphasize communal perfection. The ideal of Tanakh is the messianic age, a perfected society and world harmony. The plain sense of the biblical texts certainly favors the position of Rambam’s opponents over that of Rambam, who shifted attention to individual perfection and the soul-world.

Contemporary Applications

This debate is not simply an unverifiable, abstract philosophical disagreement. One’s belief in afterlife profoundly informs one’s ultimate goals, and directly affects how one lives life in this world. If one’s goal is a personal heaven, one could live in a cave completely removed from society, study Torah, pray, observe the Torah’s commandments, and reflect philosophically on God. In contrast, the prophets always lived among the people despite all the heartache that entailed, as their goal was to improve their society and bring it closer to the ideas of the Torah. They longed for Israel to become a model nation that would in turn inspire all humanity to serve God.

More broadly, the discussion of afterlife has direct implications on how our contemporary society functions. Much of secular society denies or downplays afterlife. This position leads to the conclusion that this life is all there is. Some idealists use this conclusion to do everything they can to make a positive impact during their lifetimes. Many others conclude that life has little ultimate purpose, and they overemphasize this-worldliness and self-indulgence.

At the other side of the spectrum, some religious communities teach that this world is only a way station to build up points to earn eternal heavenly reward. This system of belief dangerously gives all the power to the religious clerics, who can tell their followers what it takes to earn a place in heaven. When clerics have upright ethical values, they can achieve phenomenal results. However, when clerics preach murder in the name of their religion, it is beyond horrifying. It also is critical to stress that terrorists who murder in the name of their religion are not crazy. They are making a perfectly reasonable decision within their religious system by giving up a temporary and relatively meaningless life in this world in exchange for eternal bliss. The problem here is with the system itself, which, when dominated by clerics and other leaders preaching murder, is truly evil. [15]

In a completely different arena that should not in any way be likened to the above discussion, the Orthodox Jewish yeshiva system confronts a different challenge pertaining to belief in the afterlife. In many yeshivot, particularly those that teach boys, Tanakh receives woefully inadequate attention.[16] Concurrently, many learn the exceptional eighteenth century work by Rabbi Moshe Hayyim Luzzatto, the Mesilat Yesharim (Path of the Just).

This remarkable book focuses on self-perfection, and is worthy of in-depth study. However, learning Mesilat Yesharim without Tanakh creates an imbalance in the yeshiva curriculum. Rabbi Luzzatto introduces his work by stating that the purpose of our existence is to gain afterlife:

Our Sages of blessed memory have taught us that man was created for the sole purpose of rejoicing in God and deriving pleasure from the splendor of His Presence; for this is true joy and the greatest pleasure that can be found. The place where this joy may truly be derived is the World to Come, which was expressly created to provide for it; but the path to the object of our desires is this world. (Mesilat Yesharim chapter 1) [17]

Students of the prophets never would stop there, since the prophets were concerned with the perfection of their society. Learning Mesilat Yesharim without learning the soaring visions of the prophets sends the message that personal religious growth lies at the heart of religious Jewish experience. Although of course we aspire to individual personal growth (and should learn Mesilat Yesharim!), this aspiration must be accompanied by the prophetic imperative to channel our religious energies to improve the broader community. It is the longing for the messianic era, and not personal afterlife, that should shape the heart of our religious experience and actions. Lacking this prophetic vision, many students may become connected to God and the Torah, but isolate themselves from the broader community.

If there is hope for understanding and resolution, it is through serious engagement with Tanakh, which forms the very heart and soul of the Jewish vision. Individual religious strengths must be developed and channeled toward the betterment of society. The messianic visions of the prophets are for all humanity, and not just Israel. These beliefs foster a love for humanity, rather than just those who share our particular beliefs.

Tragically, we live in a world where billions overemphasize afterlife, and billions underemphasize it. Most Jews no longer stand by or even understand the alternative of the Torah and the prophets. But the vision of Tanakh has the power to change the world if we will listen to its message and promote it.

[1] There are several passages where Job seems to accept the finality of death. For example, “As a cloud fades away, so whoever goes down to Sheol does not come up; he returns no more to his home; his place does not know him” (Job 7:9). Based on this verse, Rava insisted that “this shows that Job denied the resurrection of the dead” (Bava Batra 16a). Cf. Job 10:20–22; 14:1–10.

[2] Several other biblical verses employ resurrection terminology. Three prominent examples are, (1) “He will destroy death forever. My Lord God will wipe the tears away from all faces and will put an end to the reproach of His people over all the earth—for it is the Lord who has spoken” (Is. 25:8). (2) “Oh, let Your dead revive! Let corpses arise! Awake and shout for joy, you who dwell in the dust!—for Your dew is like the dew on fresh growth; You make the land of the shades come to life” (Is. 26:19). (3) Ezekiel’s celebrated vision of the Dry Bones (Ezek. 37:1–14). However, these prophecies refer to God’s miraculous restoration of Israel in the messianic era, rather than the bodily resurrection of individual people. In contrast, Daniel refers specifically to the bodily resurrection of individuals so that God can mete out ultimate justice onto them.

[3] See, e.g., Neil Gillman, The Death of Death: Resurrection and Immortality in Jewish Thought (Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights, 1997), p. 96. See also Jon D. Levenson, Resurrection and the Restoration of Israel: The Ultimate Victory of the God of Life (New Haven, CT: Yale, 2006), p. x, where he cites the scholarly consensus that Zoroastrianism is the likely candidate for having influenced Jewish thought regarding resurrection. Levenson goes on to reject much of that scholarly consensus.

[4] Not all versions of the Mishnah contain the text that one must believe that resurrection is “from the Torah,” min ha-Torah. Rambam stated that one must believe in the resurrection, but does not insist that one must believe that it is from the Torah. See sources in Marc Shapiro, The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles Reappraised (Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civiliation, 2004), p. 152, n. 62.

[5] James L. Kugel, The Great Poems of the Bible: A Reader’s Companion with new Translations (New York: Free Press, 1999), pp. 192–210.

[6] Kugel, pp. 209–210.

[7] See also Prov. 11:30; 13:12; 15:4.

[8] It also is significant that the Ark, which contains the tablets of the Ten Commandments, is guarded by Cherubim. The Tabernacle represents the only other appearance of Cherubim in the Torah aside from the Garden of Eden, where they guard the Tree of Life (Gen. 3:24).

[9] For discussion and sources pertaining to this issue in Psalms, Proverbs, Job, and Ecclesiastes, see Hayyim Angel, Vision from the Prophet and Counsel from the Elders: A Survey of Nevi’im and Ketuvim (New York: OU Press, 2013), pp. 227–234, 241–248, 249–257, 288–300.

[10] See sources and discussion in Neil Gillman, The Death of Death, pp. 143–172.

[11] See Rambam, Laws of Repentance, chapter 8.

[12] Louis Jacobs maintains that Rambam was the only medieval Jewish philosopher who committed to the idea that the future existence is in an incorporeal state in a soul world rather than in this world (Principles of the Jewish Faith [New York: Basic Books, 1964], p. 407).

[13] This was not the only midrashic understanding, however. In the summary words of David M. Carr (with minor transliteration changes): “While we see the male fairly consistently linked to God, we find the female of the Song of Songs related to the house of study (b. Eruvin 21b; b. Bava Batra 7b), an individual sage (t. Hagiga 2:3), Moses (Mekhilta Beshallah Shirah 9), Joshua the son of Nun (Sifrei Nitzavim [305] and parallels), local court (b. Sanhedrin 36b; b. Yevamot 101a; b. Kiddushin 49b and b. Sanhedrin 24a; cf. also b. Pesahim 87a), or the community of Israel as a whole (m. Ta’anit 4:8; t. Sotah 9:8; b. Shabbat 88; b. Yoma 75a; b. Sukkot 49b; b. Eruvin 21b; b. Ta’anit 4:a; Mekhilta Beshallah Shira 3)” (“The Song of Songs as a Microcosm of the Canonization and Decanonization Process,” in Canonization and Decanonization, ed. A. van der Kooij and K. van der Toorn [Leiden: Brill, 1998], pp. 175–176).

[14] See Laws of Repentance 10:3; Guide for the Perplexed III:51. See Yosef Murciano, “Rambam and the Interpretation of the Song of Songs” (Hebrew), in Teshurah le-Amos: A Collection of Studies in Biblical Interpretation Presented in Honor of Amos Hakham, ed. Moshe Bar Asher et al. (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2007), pp. 85–108. For an exploration of the religious value of adopting the views of Rashi and Rambam in one’s religious experience, see R. Shalom Carmy, “Perfect Harmony,” First Things (December, 2010); “On Cleaving as Identification: Rabbi Soloveitchik’s Account of Devekut in U-Vikkashtem Mi-Sham,” Tradition 41:2 (Summer 2008), pp. 100–112.

[15] For an illuminating study of the eradication of the idea of sin from Western literature, reflecting the frightening conclusion that many in the contemporary Western World have essentially stricken the concept of evil from their vocabularies and mindsets, see Andrew Delbanco, The Death of Satan: How Americans Have Lost the Sense of Evil (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1995).

[16] For analysis of why this has been so, see, for example, Mordechai Breuer, “Bible in the Curriculum of the Yeshiva” (Hebrew), in Mehkarim ba-Mikra u-ba-Hinnukh: Presented to Prof. Moshe Ahrend, ed. Dov Rappel (Jerusalem: Touro College, 1996), pp. 223–235; Frederick E. Greenspahn, “Jewish Ambivalence towards the Bible,” Hebrew Studies 48 (2007), pp. 7–21; Moshe Sokolow, “U-Va Le-Tzion Go’el, Kedushah De-Sidra, and the Yeshiva Curriculum,” in Mi-Tokh Ha-Ohel: The Weekday Prayers, ed. Daniel Z. Feldman and Stuart W. Halpern (New Milford, CT: Maggid, 2014), pp. 293–301.

[17] Translation in Shraga Silverstein, The Path of the Just (Jerusalem: Feldheim, 1980), p. 17.

New Beginnings: Thoughts for Parashat Vayetsei

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Vayetsei

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

“And Jacob went from Beersheva and went toward Haran” (Bereishith28:10).

After Jacob received Isaac’s blessing, he had to flee from his brother Esau who had wanted the blessing himself. The Torah reports that Jacob went from Beersheva. But we had thought that Isaac and Rebecca were living in Hebron and that would have been the point of departure for Jacob. Yet, the Torah specifies that Jacob left from Beersheva.

One explanation may be that Isaac and Rebecca also had residence in Beersheva, and that is where Jacob was located when he had to leave for Haran.

Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz suggests that the family had been living in Hebron but that Jacob first went to Beersheva before heading for Haran. He wanted to go to Beersheva because that was where both Abraham and Isaac had significant experiences. After making a treaty with Abimelech, “Abraham planted a tamarisk tree in Beersheva and there he called on the name of the Lord, the Eternal God” (Bereishith 21: 33). And Isaac was in Beersheva when the Lord appeared to him and renewed the promises He had made to Abraham; Isaac built an altar and called upon the name of the Lord (Bereishith 26:23-24). Before setting out on his own journey, Jacob wanted to gain spiritual strength by visiting a place sacred to his father and grandfather.

As Jacob began his journey, he was facing a massive life crisis. He was leaving his parents’ home. He was heading for a new place where he would be dealing with people he did not know. He would need to earn a livelihood, marry and start a family, face unknown difficulties. At this turning point, he wanted to be connected spiritually to his parents and grandparents. He needed to visit Beersheva before setting out for the next chapter of his life.

When we face our own crises in life, we are fortunate if we can return to a powerful starting point that can strengthen us. We can recall the challenges faced by parents and grandparents and contemplate how they were able to draw on their faith, courage and determination. We sometimes can physically go back to our childhood home; or to our grandparents’ home; or we can stand at their graves and meditate about their lives. If we don’t go back to a physical “Beersheva” we can still draw on memories, episodes in their lives that demonstrated qualities that we ourselves need as we face our own challenges.

Going back to a significant starting point helps us put life into context. It reminds us of origins. It allows us to think things through quietly. As we visit—and depart from—our personal “Beersheva” we set off on the journey ahead with greater confidence, faith and wisdom.

 

 

 



 

 

Book Review of Dennis Prager: The Rational Bible: Numbers

Book Review

By Rabbi Hayyim Angel

 

Dennis Prager, The Rational Bible: Numbers (Regnery Faith, 2024)

 

          Dennis Prager is far better known as a political commentator than a Bible Scholar. Nonetheless, he is animated by his belief in the Torah and its enduring moral messages for humanity. His commentary, as the book’s title suggests, is rooted in a rationalist approach to the Bible. 

          Whether or not one agrees with all of his politics or individual interpretations of the verses, Prager’s commentary is strikingly relevant when he emphasizes the moral and theological revolution of the Torah and the vitality of its teachings to today’s overly secularized Western world. Rather than serving as bastions of moral teachings and American values, universities are increasingly at the vanguard of attacks against God, the Bible, family values, Israel, and the very notion of an objective morality. Prager pinpoints several of the major differences between the Torah’s morality and the dangerous shortcomings of today’s secular West.

          Throughout his commentary, Prager makes his case for belief in God, providence, the divine origins of the Torah, and the eternal power of the Torah’s morality. He also offers a running commentary on the Torah, bringing insights from a variety of scholars and thinkers, as well as from his personal experiences. As in my previous reviews of his volumes on Genesis, Exodus, and Deuteronomy, I will focus exclusively on the former, as it is here that Prager’s commentary makes its greatest contributions.

 

https://www.jewishideas.org/article/review-dennis-prager-genesis.

https://www.jewishideas.org/article/review-dennis-prager-exodus.

https://www.jewishideas.org/article/book-review-dennis-prager-deuteronomy.

 

          In Numbers chapter 9, several Israelites who are ritually impure approach Moses, wondering how they can bring the Passover sacrifice if they are impure, but feeling excluded if they may not participate in this nationally vital offering. God responds that they may not offer the sacrifice on the usual date since they are impure, but God creates a makeup date one month later so they may participate. 

          Prager uses this passage as a springboard to discuss the balance between having standards and being compassionate. God upholds the law that ritually impure people must not bring offerings, while compassionately creating a makeup date to include these individuals. Prager laments that “we live during a time when compassion is frequently regarded as more important than standards. For example, at this time, compassion has led some people to advocate that no students be given a failing grade. But if widely adopted, this would inevitably destroy academic standards.” If we abandoned the highest physical standards and training for firefighters, more people would die in fires. It is compassionate to have moral standards for society, as everyone benefits.

          Western society also must continue to uphold its family standard—promoting the ideal of a nuclear family consisting of a married man and woman and their children. Numerous studies have demonstrated the palpable benefit to the children and society when this standard is met on a widespread level. In the name of compassion toward singles, single-parent homes, and same-sex relationships, many today attempt to eradicate the family standard as the ideal. However, we should instead insist on this standard in the macro, while showing compassion in the micro for the many people who for different reasons do not have a nuclear family (95-97).

          Prager explores the central significance of rituals in a different essay. He addresses the frequent but undefined threat of karet, excision, in the Torah for various severe sins. Regardless of God’s method for meting out punishment, Prager focuses on a tangible, human interpretation of karet: One who abandons central rituals cannot transmit our values or identity to the following generations. This is true for Jews and Judaism, and also for American identity. Large sectors of American society are poorly educated in American history and values. For many, Memorial Day is little more than a day off, instead of a day to honor the memories of the members of our armed focuses who gave their lives for our country. Columbus Day has all but disappeared. Many schools no longer have their students recite the Pledge of Allegiance at the start of the school day. This widespread abandonment of these and other central American rituals leads many American children to be “cut off” from their American identity (98-101).

          A seemingly bizarre feature of the Numbers narrative is when the Israelites long for a return to Egypt (e.g., in chapter 11). Although they were indeed fed “for free” while in Egypt (11:5), that came at the expense of back-breaking slavery, oppression, and the murder of their infant sons. Prager explains that in fact, most people value free things more than freedom. The Torah teaches that God wants us to be free, but liberty is a value that needs to be taught, rather than a human instinct. Prager cites a study which concludes that more Russians look back upon the Soviet Union with nostalgia, not disdain. This despite the fact that the Soviet Union deprived its citizens of all freedoms, and murdered tens of millions of them. The Torah stresses liberty as a core value. It builds the greatest society, and enables people to grow up and take responsibility for their own lives (116-117).

          Miriam and Aaron envied Moses’ exalted level of prophecy (Numbers chapter 12). The rebel Korah insisted that all Israel was equally holy (Numbers chapter 16). Prager explains that healthy envy prods people to work harder to achieve higher levels. Unhealthy envy involves coveting what the other person has, or even harboring a desire to deprive the other of what you do not have yourself. 

          The Torah insists that all people are created equal, in God’s image. Such equality lies at the heart of the American Revolution. America’s three great values are “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.” All people are created equal, but cannot be regarded as equal regardless of what they do. When we view all people or cultures as equal, we fail.

In contrast, the French Revolution was thoroughly secular, and placed at its highest values “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.” The demand for equality of result almost inevitably leads to confiscating money and the pursuit of power. America believed that human rights derive from God. France believed that human rights derive from the state. “One of the first things the French regime did after the French Revolution was massacre priests and destroy churches. One of the first things America’s first president did was send a note of appreciation to a synagogue.” Tellingly, the iconic symbol of the American Revolution is the Liberty Bell. The iconic symbol of the French Revolution is the guillotine. When France built the Statue of Liberty, they gave it to America.

          “In the twentieth century…more people were murdered, tortured, and deprived of human rights in the name of equality than in the name of anything else. Communism, whose greatest goal was equality, resulted in the murder of more than a hundred million human beings and the enslavement of over a billion.” 

          Prager concludes that “Human beings are not, as Korach and modern egalitarians would have it, ‘all equally holy.’ Some people do indeed achieve greater holiness than other people. Holiness is earned through holy, moral, and ethical behavior. Moses earned it. Korach did not” (130-133, 207-213).

 

          Through these and so many other religious-moral teachings, the Torah was a revolution in world history, and continues to bring relevant, and sorely needed, teaching to the modern world.