THE DANGER OF WORDS, THE PROBLEM OF EXILE

Few areas of Jewish law and practice are as extensively addressed—and, it seems, as frequently breached—as those that relate to the abuse of words, whether written or spoken. In addition to the Torah’s many prohibitions against false, damaging and inappropriate speech, Pirkei Avot carries many warnings concerning the misuse of words, and indeed praises the quality of silence. One of the lengthier warnings in Avot concerns the teacher’s use of careless words and the risk that they will lead one’s talmidim (pupils) astray.  At Avot 1:11 Avtalyon says:

חֲכָמִים, הִזָּהֲרוּ בְדִבְרֵיכֶם, שֶׁמָּא תָחֽוֹבוּ חוֹבַת גָּלוּת וְתִגְלוּ לִמְקוֹם מַֽיִם הָרָעִים, וְיִשְׁתּוּ הַתַּלְמִידִים הַבָּאִים אַחֲרֵיכֶם וְיָמֽוּתוּ, וְנִמְצָא שֵׁם שָׁמַֽיִם מִתְחַלֵּל

Scholars, be careful with your words since you may liable to be exiled and be exiled to a place of bad water. The disciples who come after you will then drink of these bad waters and be killed, and the Name of Heaven will be desecrated.

Most traditional commentators link these words to the sad episode in which Zadok and Boethus, the talmidim of Antigonus of Socho, either misunderstood or deliberately misapplied his words and eventually led schismatic sects of their own. But, while this explanation is sound, it does not assist us in tackling the key question: how do we know that the words of any given sage are “bad water”, doctrinally unsound and dangerous to Judaism as we understand it, and not a brilliant, possibly counterintuitive innovation or insight?

Rabbis must have asked themselves this question ever since they resolved that Torah was not in Heaven and took upon themselves the task of applying, developing and elucidating the laws contained in the written Torah. How could they discern, for example, whether Hillel’s introduction of the prozbul as a means of circumventing the cancellation of loan debts in the Sabbatical year was a stroke of rabbinical genius and not a barefaced evasion of an explicit Torah law?

Rabbi Yisrael Miller (The Wisdom of Avos) recognizes this problem. He writes:

“Among great Torah thinkers and teachers, there are always some who are outside the mainstream (this is not a criticism). Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch, Rav Yisrael Salanter, the Satmar Rebbe Rav Yoel Teitelbaum, and the Rambam in an earlier generation, all held and taught certain views that differed from those of the majority of their contemporaries, and their teachings are important contributions to Torah thought. But when a teacher is outside the mainstream, a student’s misunderstanding will likely not be corrected by what we might call ‘peer review’”.

In other words, the real danger alluded to in our mishnah is not that a teacher endorses doctrine that is erroneous—something that is likely to be spotted and challenged pretty swiftly by his peers—but that a talmid will fail to grasp the proper meaning of an apparently unorthodox teaching and will not be pulled back into the fold by his peers. But, while trying to find the right words with which to avoid giving offence, Rabbi Miller gets to his point:

“…[I]f the rebbi and his yeshiva are considered ‘different’ (by others) or ‘unique’ (by his own talmidim, then the opinions and arguments of ‘outsiders’ carry little weight. We see this among Breslover and Lubavitcher Chassidim, and also in some non-Chassidic yeshivas, especially in some smaller ones where there is only one rebbi whose talmidim are devoted to him). In such cases a talmid who misunderstands will not revise his thinking based on what ‘outsiders’ might say, and may remain with a serious error in hashkafah or practical halachah”.

Rav Miller does concede that to study under giants like Rabbi Yisrael Salander or the Satmar Rebbe would be “a ben Torah’s dream”. But the point has been made. Rav Miller concludes:

“Based on this, the ‘exile’ means to end up alone (“exiled”) from the mainstream. ‘Harmful waters’ are teachings that are dangerous if misunderstood (which of course pose no danger to the teacher who ’drinks’, because he knows what he means). But such Sages must choose their words with extra care, lest the students make a serious error that cannot be corrected, and the name of Heaven desecrated”.

The teacher whose words enable talmidim to go astray is clearly not about to do so himself. Avtalyon addresses this mishnah to “Chachamim”, a title that he would surely not confer upon peddlers of false truths and fake Torah.

Rabbi Miller’s explanation does not address the literal meaning of Avtalyon’s mishnah in one respect, since he offers no meaning for the part of the mishnah that stipulates that the teacher is liable to be exiled.  What does “exile” have to do with his message? Here another mishnah from Avot comes into play. At Avot 4:18  Rabbi Nehorai addresses exile full-on:

הֱוֵי גוֹלֶה לִמְקוֹם תּוֹרָה, וְאַל תֹּאמַר שֶׁהִיא תָבוֹא אַחֲרֶֽיךָ, שֶׁחֲבֵרֶֽיךָ יְקַיְּמֽוּהָ בְיָדֶֽךָ, וְאֶל בִּינָתְךָ אַל תִּשָּׁעֵן

Exile yourself to a place of Torah; do not say that it will come after you, that your colleagues will help you retain it—and don’t rely on your own understanding.

There is discussion in the Gemara as to the identity of Rabbi Nehorai. One opinion is that he is really Rabbi Elazar ben Arach, a talmid of Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai who is speaking here from experience. He followed his wife to Diomsis (aka Emmaus), a place known for its waters. His colleagues did not follow him and he forgot his Torah. Although Rabbi Elazar ben Arach lived generations after Avtalyon, we might speculate that the idea of deserting the Beit Midrash for a spa resort was one that appealed to Chachamim of other generations too.

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