Avot in retrospect -- and a holiday break!

Chag same'ach lekulam!

Avot Today is taking a break but looks forward to returning to action after the holiday of Sukkot. Meanwhile, since many readers were so busy with the Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur that they didn't have much spare time for reading our Pirkei Avot pieces, here's a summary of our September posts. Do feel free to browse them at your leisure -- and don't hesitate to comment on them if the moment inspires you. 

The Facebook group for Avot Today is where you will find comments already posted by other readers. All the September posts on this blog are replicated on Facebook, so you can conveniently share them with friends.

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September posts

Wednesday 27 September 2023: Sukkot and a methodology for teaching. Traditional Jewish learning techniques may at first seem random and disjointed -- but have Pirkei Avot and other ancient texts already anticipated later didactic notions?

Tuesday 26 September 2023: Not pillars but a conveyor belt? At Avot 1:2 Shimon HaTzaddik teaches that the world stands on three "things", which many people analogise to pillars. But is there a better analogy?

Sunday 24 September 2023: When God copies us. The concept of imitatio dei -- of us seeking to emulate God-- is so frequently cited that we may lose sight of the possibility that it works the other way round, particularly when it comes to giving others the benefit of the doubt (Avot 1:6).

Friday 22 September 2023: Do not stand alone. An awkward phraseology in R' Shimon ben Netanel's teaching (Avot 2:18) that one should not be wicked "before oneself" invites a creative interpretation. 

Thursday 21 September 2023: Finding our way in the dark. Taking a look at Avot 2:1, the Kozhnitz Maggid asks where we might get a fix for our moral compass when neither prophecy nor Heavenly voices are part of our daily routine.

Tuesday 19 September 2023: Getting a second opinion. Pirkei Avot has much to say about relying on the opinions of our sages -- but is there a presumption that one attaches oneself to just one of them at a time?

Thursday 14 September 2023: Rosh Hashanah in just two minutes. If the long religious services and sometimes puzzling prayers are too much for you, Avot 4:29 succinctly summarises the main points of the day.

Tuesday 12 September 2023: Keeping the line open. Looking at Avot 6:2, we note that you won't get the message -- whatever it may be -- if you are not ready and prepared to receive it. 

Sunday 10 September 2023: "Where do you come from, where do you go?" Akavya ben Mahalalel's famous mishnah at Avot 3:1 is not all about a sperm-to-worm life-cycle: it also admits of an historical perspective.

Wednesday 6 September 2023: Having a good shout. Avot is clear when it comes to controlling one's temper -- but what about displaying anger when one is not actually angry at all? 

Friday 1 September 2023: Absolute consciousness: are we aware of it? A question posed on one of the Dee Project Pirkei Avot sheets invites speculation as to whether we can even function as humans if we are totally aware of everything we do.

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Avot Today blogposts for August 2023 
Avot Today blogposts for July 2023
Avot Today blogposts for June 2023
Avot Today blogposts for May 2023
Avot Today blogposts for April 2023
Avot Today blogposts for March 2023

Sukkot and a methodology for teaching

For my pleasure and curiosity I’m currently reading the Analytical Didactic of Comenius, this being an English translation of the tenth chapter of Johann Amos Komensky’s Linguarum methodus novissima. This fascinating work is a 17^th century treatise on pedagogy. Much of it seems laboured and obvious to us today but, in its time, it was quite revolutionary. We take it for granted today that children benefit from learning from books with illustrations that relate to the text, but this was a radical innovation when he proposed it.

What does this all have to do with Pirkei Avot?

We do not have a Mishnaic teaching manual as such; nor have the rabbis of old sat down and compiled a lengthy treatise on teaching methods. That does not mean that the subject has been ignored. As early as the reign of King Solomon it was accepted that one had to teach a child al pi darko (“in accordance with his derech [the direction that he needs]”: Mishlei 22:6). There is of course much more. Avot contains many pieces of advice and guidance for teachers and their talmidim. Thus we learn of the importance of, for example, expressing oneself in terms that can be clearly understood on a first hearing (2:5), asking questions that are relevant and giving answers that are appropriate (5:9), not being an irascible teacher (2:6), taking care to retain one’s learning (3:9), citing one’s sources (6:6) and so on.

Comenius sets out (at para.46) the following fundamentals of teaching. He writes:

Let us teach and learn:

The few before the many;
The brief before the long;
The simple before the complex;
The general before the particular;
The nearer before the more remote;
The regular before the irregular (or the analogous before the anomalous).

With the festival of Sukkot soon to be upon us, if we open the Babylonian Talmud at the very beginning of masechet Sukkah we will find that it commences with a discussion of teaching methodology. Both the covering of a sukkah and the cross-beam at the top of the entrance to an alley are invalid if more than 20 amot high, yet in the case of a sukkah the gemara teaches “it is invalid” while in the case of the cross-beam the gemara teaches “lower it”.

Why? The text offers two plausible reasons, each of which teaches something different in its own right.  One is that the mishnah teaches “invalid” when there are many reasons why the sukkah might be validated, but “lower it” when remedies for the excessive height are so few. We can see from this that the compilers of the Talmud, without stating general theories of education, were quite au fait with the techniques of teaching “the few before the many”, “the brief before the long”, and so on.

Later in the same chapter (Sukkah 11a) we find Comenius’s principles turned on their heads, for maximum teaching effect. Thus a klal gadol, a general principle, may appear at the end of a list of examples rather than at their head: this technique has great didactic efficacy when students are pushed to find cases that fall within the klal but which are not already specified.

Taken as a whole, it seems to me that, while Comenius’s Didactic neatly summarises a number of significant principles of teaching, they can be found in one form or another in the Talmud, in mishnayot—and in particular in Pirkei Avot. 

Not pillars but a conveyor belt

The first teaching in Avot that we learn in the name of any individual rabbi is the fundamental principle that the world stands on three things: Torah, service to God and acts of gemilut chasadim (human kindness). These three things are frequently described as “pillars”, since anything that stands on three pillars—or legs—is automatically stable, irrespective of the length of the legs. But Shimon HaTzaddik (Avot 1:2) does not specify what precisely it is that the world stands upon. This opens the mishnah up to other interpretations.

 I recently found another commentary on Avot abandoned in the streets of Jerusalem. It’s Etz HaSedah, a compilation of divrei Torah on Avot put together by one Tzvi Yehudah Gottlieb, published in Bnei Brak in 1988. This is a modest little book which does not purport to be an earth-shattering collection of chiddushim, novellae—but that should not detract from its utility.

Referencing the Vilna Gaon’s observation that Torah and gemilut chasadim are dearer to God than service to Him, Gottlieb contrasts the different qualities of the three items cited in the mishnah.

Torah, which emanates directly from God and expresses the Divine will, is holy and represents Heaven. Gemilut chasadim, acts of kindness done by humans to humans, can only be performed on Earth. This leaves serving God. What is its unique significance?

While Heaven and Earth are literally worlds apart, serving God is a means of linking heavenly with the earthly. By learning Torah, man is drawn upwards. By performing its precepts, man is bound to the material world. But serving God is the means of bringing Torah down to Earth while also taking the earthly and elevating it in holiness. As the agent of this service, humankind is improved and ideally perfected.

If service to God can be seen as a sort of two-way conveyor belt, bringing the holy and the spiritual down to Earth while at the same time elevating humankind towards greater closeness with God, we are still left with a question. Why should Torah and gemilut chasadim be preferred over serving God? The Etz HaSadeh does not offer an answer, but one can be suggested: Torah and gemilut chasadim are both ends in themselves, while serving God is a means by which these ends can be achieved.

Can anyone offer another, ideally more convincing, explanation?

When God copies us

On Shabbat afternoon I attended the Shabbat Shuvah derashah given by Rabbi Berel Wein at the Beit Knesset Hanassi. One might imagine that there are two Rabbis Wein. One is the author of highly attractive and infinitely readable English-language coffee-table books on Jewish history and tradition. The other is a stone hewn from the uncompromising rock-face of Lithuanian mussar, ethics and Torah-driven character development.  Just two days before Yom Kippur, the most awesome day in the Jewish calendar, there was no doubt which Rabbi Wein would be addressing us.

The atmosphere was tense as this frail old man of nearly 90, perched on a stool and clutching a lectern for support, began to speak. The Beit Knesset, packed to the rafters and beyond, listened in rapt attention, necks craned so as not to miss his words. We all wondered, what was his message for the coming days—and for the year ahead?

The main theme of Rabbi Wein’s derashah was that of attitude. It is our attitudes that shape our thoughts, guide our feelings and steer our actions. Without the right attitudes towards God and our fellow humans, we cannot begin to change ourselves to be the sort of person we would in theory want to be. But we cannot even begin to identify our own attitudes without great and patient effort. Who we are and what we are, as humans, may be apparent to others who view us from the outside, but we are generally blinded to the truth because we cannot objectively construe our own psyche.

Our inability to recognise our attitudes with pinpoint accuracy from the inside does not however mean that we cannot shape them from the outside. Here Rabbi Wein turned to Pirkei Avot. This is not a book of commandments, he argued, but a book designed to shape one’s attitudes. By way of example he discussed the character-improving effect of being don lekaf zechut (judging others in a favourable light: see Avot 1:6).

Having related the famous tale of the worker from the South, believed to have been Rabbi Akiva, who gave his employer the benefit of the doubt even after receiving no pay for three years’ labour (Shabbat 127b), Rabbi Wein sought to show that, if we give others the benefit of the doubt, God will copy our example, as it were.  Here he cited an aggadic episode in which the Heavenly yeshivah spent its time discussing the teachings of all the Tannaim except Rabbi Meir: this was because Rabbi Meir learned Torah from Elisha ben Avuyah, who turned away from Torah, and Rabbi Meir was referred to as acherim (“other people”). But it was explained that Rabbi Meir accepted only the Torah from his teacher, not his heretical beliefs (“he ate the fruit of the pomegranate but threw away the peel”: Chagigah 15a). When this explanation was accepted and real-world rabbis cited Rabbi Meir’s teachings by name, the Heavenly yeshivah followed their lead with God himself giving Rabbi Meir a name-check.

Tying this all together, Rabbi Wein urged us to improve our attitude towards others and judge them favourably—even if we don’t agree with them. If we do this, God will follow our example and judge us favourably too.

May we all be judged favourably for the coming year. Judging others favourably is a small price to pay for this privilege.

Do not stand alone

The Aseret Yemei Teshuvah (the Ten Days of Penitence) conclude this year in a penitential flurry.  This Shabbat is Shabbat Shuvah—the Sabbath of Repentance, so called because we read from the book of Hosea a passage that opens with the words שׁוּבָה, יִשְׂרָאֵל, עַד, יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ:  כִּי כָשַׁלְתָּ בַּעֲוֺנֶךָ (“Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God; for you have stumbled in your iniquity.”:14:2). Then, on Sunday night, we commence the marathon fast of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. On this day we pray to God for His forgiveness, using many different verbal formulae in which we seek to express our sincere sorrow for our misdeeds and our commitment to a better life in future.

The theme of repentance is dealt with both by the prophets and the rabbis of the Mishnah. They however tackle it quite differently. The prophets address Israel as a whole, a nation straying from the path of God, while the rabbis in Avot speak to us as individuals. Yom Kippur is a day when the collective fate of Israel and all humankind is at stake; our prayers and our confessions are in the plural because we speak, as it were, for others as well as ourselves.

Does this mean that there is no place for Avot in the Yom Kippur atonement process? No.

In his Avot Yisrael, the Kozhnitz Maggid cites a mishnah from the second perek, where Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel teaches (at 2:18) אַל תְּהִי רָשָׁע בִּפְנֵי עַצְמֶֽךָ. This is often translated along the lines of “Do not judge yourself to be a wicked person”, but the meaning of the Hebrew phrase בִּפְנֵי עַצְמֶֽךָ (literally “before yourself”) is imprecise and calls for interpretation.

According to the Maggid, this teaching supports the proposition that, when assessing where we stand in terms of good and bad, we should not stand only “before ourselves” but should seek to tie ourselves to those who are righteous, so that our prayers may be united with theirs and be viewed more favourably.  

May our prayers and our repentance over the coming days be accepted, both as individuals and as part of Klal Yisrael.

Finding our way in the dark

The mishnah that opens the second perek of Avot concludes with a theme that we have often discussed: God’s ability to see and hear whatever we do and say, and then to keep a record of it. At Avot 2:1 Rebbi (R’ Yehudah HaNasi) teaches:

הִסְתַּכֵּל בִּשְׁלֹשָׁה דְבָרִים, וְאֵין אַתָּה בָא לִידֵי עֲבֵרָה, דַּע מַה לְּמַֽעְלָה מִמָּךְ, עַֽיִן רוֹאָה וְאֹֽזֶן שׁוֹמַֽעַת, וְכָל מַעֲשֶֽׂיךָ בְּסֵֽפֶר נִכְתָּבִים

[Translation] Contemplate three things, and you will not come into the grips of transgression. Know what is above you: a seeing eye, a listening ear, and all your deeds being inscribed in a book.

This message is clear: God knows everything you do. If you want to keep on His good side, and literally in His good books, all you have to do is behave in accordance with His wishes.

There is another, quite different message. In his Avot Yisrael, the Kozhnitz Maggid gives this teaching a historical perspective.

From the days of Moshe Rabbenu till the beginning of the Second Temple era we had the benefit of prophetic guidance from above; our lives were permeated by the light of the Torah as refracted through the prism of prophecy. Our sages and seers could clearly discern God’s will and guide us accordingly. This is the mishnah’s seeing eye.

Later in the Second Temple period, when prophecy was removed from the world, we were metaphorically in the dark. Our sages however, through their ruach hakodesh—holy spirit—could still tune in to the sound of a bat kol, a Heavenly voice that steers us along the path God marks out for us. This is the mishnah’s listening ear.

Now, for our sins, we have the benefit of neither prophecy nor bat kol. But all is not lost. We still have something special to guide, strengthen and inspire us in our attempt to get closer to God. That is the written text of the Tanach, the 24 canonical books of the Jewish Bible, together with their commentaries. Here we find a reference to the final part of the mishnah. By implication, the deeds to which Rebbi refers are those we should be doing if we correctly discern the message.

So even without the light of prophecy or a Heavenly voice to guide us, we can’t just give up the task of doing God’s will in a changing world. It’s up to us to do the best we can—and it is for us to provide a seeing eye and listening ear of our own when seeking to trace God’s will through exposition of His literature.

Getting a second opinion

While many people respect and even venerate their physicians, they do not always unquestioningly accept their word. When the prognosis is unfavourable or the treatment is unpleasant, they can seek a second opinion which, they hope, is more favourable or congenial to them. The second opinion may be better than the first, or it may not. It may even corroborate it. Until you receive it, you never know.

Jewish tradition has no objection to getting a second medical opinion. But it is different with questions we ask our rabbis. When a person is facing a religious or ethical problem that requires the input of a rabbi, “shopping around” for the desired answer is strongly frowned upon. You stick to your rabbi and take him as you find him: if you accept his lenient rulings, you accept his stringencies too. Pirkei Avot appears to buttress this position. Avot 1:6 (Yehoshua ben Perachyah) and 1:16 (Rabban Gamliel) both teach: “Take for yourself a rabbi”. One of the explanations of this teaching is that a person’s religious position should be consistent, and this degree of consistency is achieved by learning one’s Torah—and receiving personal advice—should be from the same source.

As the world has become increasingly complex, specialisation has become the norm. We never expect a single medical practitioner to be expert in every branch of medical science. Rabbis too frequently acquire halachic expertise in specialisms that were unrecognised in past generations. Advances in science and technology now demand a high level of detailed knowledge before a rabbi can give a ruling in many areas today. Food production, electronics, communications technologies, hydraulics and in vitro fertilisation are obvious examples. 

Just as a family doctor will refer complex issues up the line, sending it to a consultant who possesses the knowledge and experience to understand the true nature of a problem and ideally resolve it, so too do many communal rabbis increasingly refer questions to colleagues who have made a particular study of Jewish law in fields that are technologically advanced, obscure or recondite. But the situations of the family doctor and the communal rabbi are not entirely the same.

In most areas of medicine, what is treated is the condition itself and the applicability of the expert’s answer does not depend on the nature of the individual patient (though psychiatry is an obvious exception). When a rabbi sends a question up the line for an expert opinion, the expert may not have in front of him the person who seeks the answer—and this factor can be of critical importance where there is a spiritual or social dimension to the question itself. Is the person asking the advice someone who is moving towards religious observance or struggling with it? Does he or she have a strong or supportive family? Will a strict ruling strengthen that person’s Jewish commitment or drive them away from it? These are side issues when viewed in terms of pure halachah, but they are in practice vital.

Rabbi Yaakov Hillel (Eternal Ethics from Sinai) observes this problem from another angle, finding a novel interpretation of Hillel’s teaching at Avot 2:5: “אַל תָּדִין אֶת חֲבֵרָךְ עַד שֶׁתַּגִּֽיעַ לִמְקוֹמוֹ” (“Do not judge your fellow until you reach his place”). He writes:

If we always consult the same rabbi, we will eventually develop a personal connection, enabling him to better answer our questions. Because he knows us and is familiar with our circumstances, he knows if it is appropriate to rule leniently or strictly … We find allusion to this principle later in Avot: Do not judge your fellow man until you reach his place”. … I often explain these words differently: a man should not judge—or in other words, issue a halachic ruling—until he is aware of the questioner’s “place”—his spiritual standing. Only then can he know whether the questioner can handle a stricter ruling, or whether it is ultimately better to provide a more lenient, yet still halachically acceptable answer.

There are a couple of things we can extract from this. One is that a communal rabbi who passes a question on to a halachic expert should always take care to communicate not only the question itself but as much relevant information as may be relevant. The other is that, when we help ourselves to halachic rulings that we find online, we should remind ourselves that these rulings were not necessarily given with us in mind and we should exercise prudent caution before treating them as our “second opinions”.

Rosh Hashanah, in just two minutes

For many people the traditional Rosh Hashanah prayers are a challenge that they accept with reluctance. The synagogue service is long and can easily last six or seven hours. In place of the usual prayers one finds many poetic and allusive texts that are sometimes hard to read or understand—even in translation. Some people attend services out of loyalty but still bring something to read for when the going gets too tough or when they simply can’t focus on what Rosh Hashanah is supposed to be about. Others again have no problems coping with the service but bring a little supplementary reading material with them into which they can dip whenever there is a pause in the proceedings or the chazan is shifting into operatic mode.

Even if you can’t make it to shul, or get there and wonder what to do next, don’t worry! You can capture much of the essence of Rosh Hashanah in just one mishnah from Avot. At 4:29 Rabbi Elazar HaKappar teaches this:

הַיִּלּוֹדִים לָמוּת, וְהַמֵּתִים לִחֳיוֹת, וְהַחַיִּים לִדּוֹן, לֵידַע וּלְהוֹדִֽיעַ וּלְהִוָּדַע שֶׁהוּא אֵל, הוּא הַיּוֹצֵר, הוּא הַבּוֹרֵא, הוּא הַמֵּבִין, הוּא הַדַּיָּן, הוּא הָעֵד, הוּא בַּֽעַל דִּין, הוּא עָתִיד לָדוֹן. בָּרוּךְ הוּא, שֶׁאֵין לְפָנָיו לֹא עַוְלָה, וְלֹא שִׁכְחָה, וְלֹא מַשּׂוֹא פָנִים, וְלֹא מַקַּח שֹֽׁחַד, וְדַע שֶׁהַכֹּל לְפִי הַחֶשְׁבּוֹן. וְאַל יַבְטִיחֲךָ יִצְרָךְ שֶׁהַשְּׁאוֹל בֵּית מָנוֹס לָךְ, שֶׁעַל כָּרְחָךְ אַתָּה נוֹצָר, וְעַל כָּרְחָךְ אַתָּה נוֹלָד, וְעַל כָּרְחָךְ אַתָּה חַי, וְעַל כָּרְחָךְ אַתָּה מֵת, וְעַל כָּרְחָךְ אַתָּה עָתִיד לִתֵּן דִּין וְחֶשְׁבּוֹן לִפְנֵי מֶֽלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים, הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא

[Translation] Those who are born will die, and the dead are to live. The living will be judged—to learn, to teach and to understand that He is God, He is the maker, He is the creator, He is the One who understands, He is the judge, He is the witness, He is the prosecutor, and He will judge. He is blessed because before Him there is no unrighteousness, no forgetting, no favouritism, and no taking of bribes. Know that everything is strictly according to His reckoning. Don’t let your evil impulse convince you that the grave is your escape route for against your will you were created, against your will you were born, against your will you live, against your will you die, and against your will you will have to give an account and assessment of yourself before the King, the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.

Rosh Hashanah marks our acknowledgement that God is the King of kings, that He has created us and that He is also the judge of all that, for better or worse, we do. Our mishnah echoes this sentiment.

Rosh Hashanah is also the Yom HaDin, the Day of Judgement, and this mishnah is all about facing the reality that lies behind the label. It is we who are being judged and it is God who is judging us. No-one escapes this process since we are all called to account for our actions, our words and even our unworthy thoughts.

Giving an account of ourselves demands that we can recall what we have done, why we have done it and whether our deeds, words and thoughts comply with the ancient covenant that God established with our ancestors. This requires memory, which is why Rosh Hashanah is Yom HaZikaron, the Day of Remembrance.

The judgement process takes place annually, when the old year ends and the new one begins. Rosh Hashanah being an annual calendar event, we understand that we are subjected to regular annual judgement. There is more to it than that, though. Each year we are examined during God’s interim assessment of our ongoing performance in life. Additionally, as our mishnah indicates, we face a final judgement, once our lives have run their course. Each year, as He chooses, He may grant us more life or decide that we have lived long enough. We cannot know why some people are allowed to continue their lives while others are not: God is our witness, He knows all the material facts; He calls us to answer for what we have done. Finally He makes His decision. This is in accordance with His plan, which He fully understands but we do not.

There is no way to beat the system and no way to cheat it. Escape justice by committing suicide? That doesn’t work. Why? Because it is only after death that the final judicial process takes place: far from evading trial, the act of taking one’s life in order to escape judgement simply brings forth the trial date. Bribing God won’t work either: there is nothing we can give Him that he needs except our love and fear of Him. Yet, if we love and fear God, we should not be feeling the need to escape His judgement since we will believe we have done our best. We should then be confident that, as a fair arbiter of our conduct who understands the failings and foibles of humankind, He will be kind in judgement, not harsh.

This teaching is not for Jewish eyes only. Everyone, Jew and gentile alike, must face the same routine of annual interim judgement followed by a final one. We are all created in God’s image and must do His bidding. Where we as Jews differ is that we are held to a higher standard than others. We are expected to behave properly and serve God to the best of our abilities in accordance with the extra rules which He has ordained for our service. Have we done so? We all have our own opinion of our performance, but it’s God’s opinion alone that counts.

So, if the long haul of Rosh Hashanah liturgy is not for you, do at least focus on this mishnah. It takes only a couple of minutes to read and think about—but a lifetime to appreciate.

AVOT TODAY WISHES ALL OUR READERS A KETIVAH VECHATIMAH TOVAH!

Something to read when the going gets tough?

Many people struggle with the very long synagogue services that characterise our High Holy Days -- Rosh Hashanah, which is the Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. One way to face this challenge is to bring in a book to read during parts of the service that are hard to understand, or when concentration slips and some appropriately Jewish distraction is sought.

If you are thinking of taking something to read, why not try a commentary on Pirkei Avot? The subject matter is serious enough, but accessible, and plenty of its teachings are directly relevant to seasonal topics such as God's judgement, reward and punishment. 

Here are some suggested commentaries you might want to try:

• The Koren Pirkei Avot, commentary by Rabbi Marc D. Angel, translation by Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks. Commentary and translation are modern, idiomatic and to the point. Some of the comments are quite thought-provoking, relating to contemporary social and political conditions.
  
  
• Avoth, in the Me'am Lo'ez series. Commentary by R' Yitzchak Magriso, translation by David N. Barocas. An easy read with a midrashic flavour and plenty of homilies.
  
  
• Eternal Ethics From Sinai, by R' Yaakov Hillel. Not for the faint-hearted, this commentary pulls no punches: either you are on the right path or you are emphatically not. Lots of painful mussar. Vol.1 has much material on God's judgement and the values of truth, justice and integrity.
  
  
• Visions of the Fathers, by R' Abraham J. Twerski. This much-loved and highly readable ArtScroll work highlights the psychological dimensions of Avot. 

There are of course many other English-language works on Avot and we are always open to suggestions and recommendations. Please feel free to share your thoughts with us!

Keeping the line open

My late mother-in-law was slow to adapt to the technology of mobile telephony. After much persuasion, she agreed to have a cellphone and would occasionally even use it to call us. But when we tried to call her on it, we usually unsuccessful. Why? Because she had not put her phone on. “We tried to call you”, we explained, “but you haven’t put your phone on”.  Her response? “I didn’t put it on because I didn’t know that you would be phoning me”.

At Avot 6:2 Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi teaches:

בְּכָל יוֹם וָיוֹם בַּת קוֹל יוֹצֵאת מֵהַר חוֹרֵב וּמַכְרֶֽזֶת וְאוֹמֶֽרֶת: אוֹי לָהֶם לַבְּרִיּוֹת מֵעֶלְבּוֹנָהּ שֶׁל תּוֹרָה

[Translation] Every day, a heavenly voice resounds from Mount Horeb (Sinai) proclaiming and saying: "Woe is to those creatures who insult the Torah”.

The question has often been asked: if a heavenly voice is emanating from Mount Sinai on a daily basis, why doesn’t everyone hear it? My mother-in-law provides the answer. If the line is open, if the potential recipient is prepared to receive a message, that message will get through. If not, however great the effort that goes into its the transmission, the message will vanish into the ether and no-one will ever know it existed.

We may think that we know all that we need to know in terms of Torah; we lead good Jewish lives and that’s quite enough for us, thank you. But this should not lead us to assume that we can turn off our receptors. The Torah may remain constant and unchanging through the generations, but each generation faces its own challenges. That’s why Torah teachers have to rise to the occasion and show how Torah remains relevant, indeed vital, in any period of change.

We must remain receptive if we are not to miss the messages that speak to the relevance of Torah. If we fail to keep our line open, we may miss the chance to appreciate how ancient wisdom and tradition can reasserts their values in the space we currently occupy. And that would be an insult.

"Where do you come from, where do you go?"

“Where do you come from, where do you go?” How often nowadays does one hear this refrain being sung by youngsters as they dance happily to the thumping beat of “Cotton Eye Joe”, a song that has worked its way into current simchah playlists.

The same issues are tackled in rather more serious fashion by Akavya ben Mahalalel in Avot 3:1:

הִסְתַּכֵּל בִּשְׁלֹשָׁה דְבָרִים, וְאֵין אַתָּה בָא לִידֵי עֲבֵרָה. דַּע מֵאַֽיִן בָּֽאתָ, וּלְאָן אַתָּה הוֹלֵךְ, וְלִפְנֵי מִי אַתָּה עָתִיד לִתֵּן דִּין וְחֶשְׁבּוֹן. מֵאַֽיִן בָּֽאתָ: מִטִּפָּה סְרוּחָה. וּלְאָן אַתָּה הוֹלֵךְ: לִמְקוֹם עָפָר רִמָּה וְתוֹלֵעָה. וְלִפְנֵי מִי אַתָּה עָתִיד .לִתֵּן דִּין וְחֶשְׁבּוֹן: לִפְנֵי מֶֽלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא

[Translation] Reflect upon three things and you will not come to the grip of sin. Know where you come from, where you are going, and before whom you shall give a full account of yourself. Where you come from—from a putrid drop; where you are going—to a place of dust, maggots and worms; and before whom you shall give a full account of yourself—before the supreme King of Kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.

Mishnayot like this are ideal material for serious commentary as we approach Rosh Hashanah, which is not just New Year’s Day but יום הדין (Yom HaDin, The Day of Judgement).

The core idea of the mishnah is clear enough. We start off as nothing greater than a drop of seminal fluid and our bodies end up under a couple of metres of earth—but our soul, our quintessential being—must still settle its account with our Maker, when our credits and debits are totted up and we are duly rewarded or punished, or both.

Our lives are bookended by conception, at one end, and death at the other, and the mishnah ultimately spells this out when it repeats its three questions. But why does it not supply its answers when it first asks them?

The Maharam Shik suggests that, in posing the questions, Akavya ben Mahalalel invites us to take a deeper perspective. Though our lives are bookended by conception and death, we are not conceived in a vacuum; nor do we live within one. We come from our parents and our families, and ultimately from our forefathers Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. When we die, we leave behind us our children, grandchildren and the future generations that lie beyond them. So, when we consider how to state our case before the Heavenly Court, we should be thinking not merely of our own performance in life but also how we measure against those whose ideals and aspirations are our inheritance and how greatly we have served as role models for transmitting our faith and our values to the generations yet to come.

It goes without saying that the best time to consider these things is while we are still alive and can do something about them.

Having a good shout?

In my secondary schooldays I got shouted at a great deal. In this I was not alone. Most of my classmates got shouted at too. Our teachers—most of whom had served as officers in the British army during the Second World War—appeared to be enraged by even minor infractions of school rules, of which inevitably there were many. Only in later years did I come to appreciate that my teachers were not angry at all. In fact, they were quite jovial souls at heart. However, they had become accustomed to barking out orders to the soldiers under their command and assumed that this was the normal, indeed the best, way of achieving not just obedience but educational excellence in Latin, Greek, History and other subjects which, having read at University before the War, it was now their lot to teach.

Pirkei Avot cautions us with regard to anger. Being demonstrably slow to anger is an attribute of God himself (5:2, 5:3). Rabbi Eliezer (2:15) and an anonymous Tanna (5:14) both recognise that we do sometimes become angry but teach that we should not allow ourselves to anger easily, while being slow to anger is listed as one of the qualities a person needs in order to master Torah (6:6). Anger is regarded as a corrosive character trait and is even equated with idolatry (see eg Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot De’ot 2:3). But what of displaying anger, even when one is not particularly angry?

In his commentary in Tiferet Tzion on Avot 6:6 R’ Yitzchak Ze’ev Yadler reminds us that, even when it is necessary to display anger, one should first ensure that there are grounds upon which that display is justified. And even then, unlike my school teachers, one should first speak softly to see if that has the desired effect, rather than starting at maximum volume and blazing away as though one is still on the battlefield.

Next week Ashkenazi and Sefardi Jews alike will be reciting Selichot, penitential prayers, ahead of the High Holy Days.  A key feature of Selichot is that of reminding God that he is slow to anger. If we are to make an issue of this, we should at least make an effort to be as slow to be angry with others as we hope God will be with us.

Avot in retrospect: a summary of last month's blogposts

Were you away last month? Just got home and missed the latest posts on Pirkei Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers? Here's a list of what you missed.

Wednesday 30 August 2023: Temper, Temper!: When we judge others who lose their temper, are we influenced by our own susceptibility to getting angry?

Monday 28 August 2023: Handle with care! Learning from tales of the Sages: In theory, we are deemed wise if we learn from everyone -- but are there limits on what we can learn from exceptional individuals?

Friday 25 August 2023: Eat your dinner, for Heaven's sake! Can self-indulgence be justified if one also has a more lofty mindset?

Wednesday 23 August 2023: Truth Lite, or the real thing? While Pirkei Avot endorses the value of truth, this is a commodity that comes in different strengths. How do we handle this?

Monday 21 August 2023: Three big no-nos -- not so bad after all: Rabbi Elazar HaKapar cautions against jealousy, lust and the desire for honour, but there is a place for them in the lives of every one of us.

Friday 18 August 2023: Recycling sins: a thought for Elul. In the month leading up to the Jewish new year and the Day of Atonement, we should ask how effectively we dispose of our bad deeds and bad habits and check that they do not resurface under another guise. 

Wednesday 16 August 2023: Misleading words: what we ask for. Again on the subject of truth, we take a look at the vocabulary of deceit.

Monday 14 August 2023: Rabbi Eliezer's good eye. Rabbi Eliezer's advice as to the good path that we should follow needs a bit of explanation. What does he mean by "a good eye"?

Friday 11 August 2023: Manna from Heaven and the power of ko'ach: We look at a puzzling baraita in the sixth perek of Avot and offer an explanation.

Wednesday 9 August 2023: When love is not enough, try fear instead: One of the talmidim of Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai is praised for the quality of his fear of sin. What's so special about this? Is it not something that everyone should have?

Sunday 6 August 2023: Was Shakespeare Jewish? And is there proof in Pirkei Avot? A provocative article on the Aish website raises the issue of the Bard's religious affiliation. We examine some of the evidence.

Wednesday 2 August 2023: Don't say "Mummy's in the toilet!" Is it safe to tell a little white lie? Sometimes it seems you're damned if you do and damned if you don't.

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Avot Today blogposts for July 2023
Avot Today blogposts for June 2023
Avot Today blogposts for May 2023
Avot Today blogposts for April 2023
Avot Today blogposts for March 2023
Avot Today blogposts for February 2023

Absolute consciousness: are we aware of it?

 The final part of Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi’s teaching at Avot 2:1 reads like this:

הִסְתַּכֵּל בִּשְׁלֹשָׁה דְבָרִים, וְאֵין אַתָּה בָא לִידֵי עֲבֵרָה, דַּע מַה לְּמַֽעְלָה מִמָּךְ, עַֽיִן רוֹאָה וְאֹֽזֶן שׁוֹמַֽעַת, וְכָל מַעֲשֶֽׂיךָ בְּסֵֽפֶר נִכְתָּבִים

In English: “Focus on three things, and you will not come into the grip of sin. Know what is above you: a seeing eye, a listening ear, and that all your actions are inscribed in a book”.

Avot Today has often discussed different aspects of this guidance, which is open to many interpretations. The Dee Pirkei Avot Project recently used it as a springboard for the following question:

“How do you think our lives might change if we lived with absolute consciousness that our every thought, word, and action impacts the entirety of creation in a profound way?”

In other words, if the mishnah is inviting us to be continually aware of God’s supervision of our lives, because everything we do and say has an impact that God judges, what would happen if we were to do so?

I wonder whether such a thing as “absolute consciousness” even exists. God has created humankind with the ability to do more than one thing at a time. We call it multitasking, a grand label that can apply to something as trivial as chewing gum and listening to the radio while driving a car. We can perform serial tasks of this nature easily and usually succeed when we do so—but can we say that we are simultaneously absolutely conscious of all three, even if we exclude awareness of the profound impact that each of our thoughts, words and actions from the equation? And how often does the car reach its destination without us being able to recall quite how it got there?

For the sincere and practising Jew, the principle of שִׁוִּ֬יתִי יְהֹוָ֣ה לְנֶגְדִּ֣י תָמִ֑יד (“I have place God before me constantly”: Tehillim 16:8) is a sort of gold standard to which we ideally all aspire. In practice, it is impossible to maintain an absolute awareness of God’s presence at all times—and if one tries to add up the number of times a day in which one thinks of God at all on a busy day, the total can be embarrassingly small. I can scarcely imagine what it would be like to try to add to that awareness a further level of consciousness as to the impact of everything I say and do. And is the level of absolute consciousness as described in the quote above in any sense compatible with the daily task of living one's life?

Awareness of our impact on every facet of the world God created is however a useful tool both for our assessment of how we have performed over the past year and how we should strategise our plans for making the best of the year to come. Our awareness, like our knowledge, is at best imperfect and framed within the context of our own personal limitations. Even so, we must make the best what we have.