The real burden?

At Avot 3:6 Rabbi Nechunyah ben Hakanah teaches:

כָּל הַמְקַבֵּל עָלָיו עוֹל תּוֹרָה, מַעֲבִירִין מִמֶּֽנּוּ עוֹל מַלְכוּת וְעוֹל דֶּֽרֶךְ אֶֽרֶץ, וְכָל הַפּוֹרֵק מִמֶּֽנוּ עוֹל תּוֹרָה, נוֹתְנִין עָלָיו עוֹל מַלְכוּת וְעוֹל דֶּֽרֶךְ אֶֽרֶץ

Anyone who accepts upon himself the yoke of Torah—they remove from him the yoke of government duties and the yoke of worldly cares; but one who casts off the yoke of Torah is saddled with the yoke of government duties and the yoke of worldly cares.

The thrust of this mishnah is hard to miss, since it speaks of how a person can fill the day. We have a choice, so why not accept the burden of Torah study and dedicate yourself to its study? In theory, God will provide for your every need. For the purposes of reality this means that, assuming that you are truly dedicated to this task and that others around you are aware of this, they will act in accordance with God’s will, shouldering your non-Torah responsibilities on your behalf. This will leave you free to focus fully on Torah study, a pursuit that is not only commendable in itself but benefits the community that supports you.

I recently found a couple of fascinating insights in R’ Yisroel Miller’s The Wisdom of Avos which read the mishnah as meaning something quite different.

The first insight is the surprising one that saddling the person who shrugs off Torah with the burdens of civic duty and having to make a living is not a punishment or a deterrent. Rather, it is a benefit. Why? Because “human beings with too much leisure time inevitably get into trouble”.  This observation might seem strange in the context of this mishnah, but it is quite in keeping with the tone of Rabban Gamliel the son of Rebbi at Avot 2:2: there we learn of the virtue of combining Torah learning with derech eretz (pursuit of a worldly occupation) since the combination of the two makes one forget to sin.

The second insight is a psychological one:

“Too many people are obsessed with keeping up with the news and worrying about it, especially various kinds of political news (the yoke of government). And how much energy do we expend worrying about our finance and our careers (the yoke of derech eretz)?”.

To political news one might add the unceasing stream of what passes for war news, much of which consists of rumour, opinion, unverified statements, bitter accusations and untested suggestions—and which is difficult to resist, irrespective of its low veracity content and its ability to anger and upset those who are compelled to endlessly consume it.

R’ Miller continues:

“The Jew who has voluntarily accepted the yoke of Torah is not oblivious to current event, and he also puts in the necessary effort to making a living, but his emotional energy is not drained away with worry, because the focus of his day is elsewhere”.

These sentiments eloquently build on an observation made many years ago by R’ Reuben p. Bulka (Chapters of the Sages). Acknowledging that both Torah study and commitment to secular activities are capable of inducing stress, he adds:

“There are always forces which drive the individual, and anxieties which confront the individual who is faced with negotiating these forces. It is up to the individual to choose which anxiety will be the primary one”.

The challenge for each of us is to make the right choice, and then to make the best of the choice once we have made it.

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Manna from Heaven and the power of ko'ach

There’s a long and puzzling Baraita at Avot 6:8 which opens like this:

רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן יְהוּדָה מִשּׁוּם רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן יוֹחָאִי אוֹמֵר: הַנּוֹי, וְהַכֹּֽחַ, וְהָעֹֽשֶׁר, וְהַכָּבוֹד, וְהַחָכְמָה, וְהַזִּקְנָה, וְהַשֵּׂיבָה, וְהַבָּנִים, נָאֶה לַצַּדִּיקִים וְנָאֶה לָעוֹלָם,

[Translation] Rabbi Shimon ben Yehudah used to say in the name of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai: “Beauty, strength, wealth, honor, wisdom, sageness, old age and children—these befit the righteous and befit the world”.

Of the many questions this statement raises, one is this: what specifically does strength have to do with the righteous? Since the sixth chapter of Avot deals with Torah and how to acquire it, we can reasonably suppose that the reference to the righteous in our baraita is an allusion to those who are righteous on account of their commitment to Torah. Does Torah make them strong? No, it seems. We learn that the study of Torah matashet kocho shel adam (“weakens a man’s strength”: Rabbi Chanan, at Sanhedrin 26b).

A possible explanation is that Rabbi Chanan’s statement that Torah learning weakens a person’s strength relates solely to physical strength, but that the baraita does not. The Hebrew word ַכחַ (ko’ach, literally “strength”) also connotes “power” in the sense of “having an ability” to do something. But is there any support for this answer?

One of the things that children learn in the earliest stages of their Jewish education is that, when the Children of Israel spent 40 years in the desert, they ate manna every day. This manna, which fell miraculously from Heaven, had the wonderful quality of tasting like what each person wanted it to taste like, so they never got bored with it. Few Jewish adults look beyond this cute little story to see how it is utilised by the Sages. If they did, they would find that there’s more to midrash than delicious food falling out of the sky. Here’s Yalkut Shimoni, Yitro 286, discussing the revelation of God at Mount Sinai when he gave the Jewish people the Torah (with emphases added):

Rabbi Levi said: The Holy One blessed be He appeared to them like a portrait that is visible from all angles. A thousand people may gaze at it and it gazes back at all of them. It’s the same with the Holy One, blessed be He. When He spoke, every single Israelite said: “The Word spoke to me! It’s not written ‘I am the Lord your God but I am the Lord thy God” [note: Hebrew uses different words to indicate plural or singular forms of the second person. So too does old English, where “your” means “belonging to more than one” while “thy” means “belonging to only one other”].

Rabbi Yose said: The Word spoke to each and everyone according to their personal capacity. Don’t be surprised at the manna that came down to the Israelites, each person tasting the flavour he was able to appreciate—infants in accordance with their capacities, young men in accordance with theirs and the old in accordance with theirs. If that was the case for the manna, where everyone tasted the flavour he could appreciate, how much more so does this apply to the Word [of God].

David said: קוֹל-יְהוָה בַּכֹּחַ “The voice of the Lord is in strength”: Tehillim 29:4). It doesn’t say “in his strength but just “in strength”, meaning in accordance with the capabilities of each person.

Now the Baraita at Avot 6:8 can be seen in a fresh light. The righteous, in pursuing their path in accordance with the precepts of the Torah, need כֹֽחַ in the sense of the ability to discern the many different dimensions of the Torah’s content and to identify the approach that is most appropriate or efficacious in any given situation.

A final thought. When we wish one another yashir ko’ach (or yashir kochachah), is this simply a Hebrew version of “here’s power to your elbow!”—or does it convey a subtle midrashic connotation too?

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But learning isn't quite everything

The first Baraita in the final chapter 6 of Avot offers a great deal for those whose commitment to Torah is sincere and serious. This teaching by Rabbi Meir opens promisingly:

כָּל הָעוֹסֵק בַּתּוֹרָה לִשְׁמָהּ זוֹכֶה לִדְבָרִים הַרְבֵּה, וְלֹא עוֹד, אֶלָּא שֶׁכָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ כְּדַאי הוּא לוֹ

What does this mean? Who is the person who is עוֹסֵק בַּתּוֹרָה (osek baTorah, literally “engaged in the Torah”)? There is a wide consensus that these words apply to the many advantages and privileges to which a person is entitled when studying Torah. Thus, for example:

“Whoever studies Torah for Torah's sake alone, merits many things; not only that, but [the creation of] the entire world is worthwhile for him alone” (Chabad.org)

“Whoever engages in Torah study for its own sake merits many things. Furthermore, the entire world is worthwhile for his sake” (ArtScroll; the Koren Pirkei Avot reads virtually the same).

The Baraita then goes on to list nearly 30 things to which one who is osek baTorah is entitled. Such a person is

“…called friend, beloved, lover of God, lover of humanity; he makes God happy and makes people happy. He is clothed in humility and awe. [Torah] makes him fit to be righteous, pious, upright and faithful; it distances him from sin and brings him close to merit. From him, people enjoy counsel and wisdom, understanding and power… The Torah grants him sovereignty, dominion, and legal perspicacity. The Torah's secrets are revealed to him, and he becomes as an increasingly productive wellspring and as an unceasing river. He becomes modest, patient and forgiving of insults. The Torah uplifts him and makes him greater than all creations”.

Classical commentaries have long affirmed that this Baraita is pointing to the the advantages of Torah study, some at great length. These include the Maharal (Derech Chaim), Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner’s Ruach Chaim, the Anaf Yosef (Rabbi Chanoch Zundel ben Yosef), Rabbi Menachem Mordechai Frankel-Teumim, citing the Turei Zahav) and Rabbi Yitzchak Magriso (Me’Am Lo’ez). The siddur commentary of Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch and Irving M. Bunim’s Ethics from Sinai take the same view.

But maybe this Baraita is teaching more than that.

In his Tiferet Tzion, Rabbi Yitzchak Ze’ev Yadler draws our attention to what the Baraita does not say, as well as what it does. He briefly observes that the text before us talks of someone who is osek baTorah—not someone who is lomed Torah (“studying Torah”). Osek baTorah is a wider term. Everyone who learns Torah is osek baTorah, but one can be osek baTorah without learning Torah at all. The classic example, which the Tiferet Tzion cites, is that of the Yissaschar-Zevulun relationship, where one brother goes to work in order to support his brother in learning. Both receive the same reward.

Looking beyond this brief comment, we might speculate that not just brothers with business acumen but many others who are involved in Torah processes are covered by this Baraita. For example, is not a person who is put to great inconvenience in order to perform a Torah mitzvah also osek baTorah? And what of the parents who expend time and effort in ferrying children to and from Torah classes, or the youngsters who visit hospitals on Rosh Hashanah with a shofar to blow for patients who cannot attend their synagogue?

To conclude, there are many degrees of being osek baTorah and it is possible to read our Baraita as encouraging them all.

 

Turn it over, turn it over!

The second chapter of Avot ends with two oft-cited teachings by Rabbi Tarfon. The second of the two (Avot 2:21), is much loved not just by Torah scholars but also by politicians, industrialists and many people who have no particular commitment to Jewish lifestyles and values. It is often assumed to be “It is not for you to finish the task, but neither are you free to absolve yourself from it”. That however is only the opening salvo. The rest of the mishnah, much less frequently cited, goes on to frame those words within the context of learning Torah. 

The first of Rabbi Tarfon’s teachings does not mention the pursuit of Torah study, but most commentators assume that this is the meat of the metaphor and that the task of learning Torah is an unceasing commitment. The mishnah (Avot 2:20) reads:

“The day is short, the work is in abundance, the workers are lazy, the reward is great, and the Master is pressing”.

That these words apply to Torah study is easy to argue. But how do we know whether they also apply to the fulfilment of other obligations towards God?

In considering this proposition, let us take as our starting point another mishnah, this time from the end of the fifth perek (Avot 5:26):

Ben Bag Bag used to say: “Turn it over, turn it over, since everything is in it; see with it; grow old and grey in it; do not budge from it, for there is nothing better”.

Taking these words literally, let us turn Rabbi Tarfon’s words on their head and give them quite the opposite meaning. This leaves us with something like:

“The day is long, the work is light, the workers are industrious, the reward is not so great, and the Master is easy-going”.

Does this inversion of Rabbi Tarfon's words have anything to tell us? Arguably it does, in that it can be said to be capable of applying to many if not most of the positive mitzvot in the Torah—but not to the learning of Torah itself.

We know from our own experience that, if we are not continuously occupied, the day is long and time weighs heavily on our hands. In retrospect, time often seems to have passed swiftly, but our real-time experience tells us otherwise. Ask any confirmed cigarette smoker about those last ten minutes before Shabbat goes out. God has given us an amplitude of time, more than we require for our essential needs, which is why we run the constant risk of bitul zeman, killing time that could have been put to productive use if we only valued it properly.

As for the work being in abundance, relatively little time need be spent performing many of the Torah’s biggest mitzvot. Prayer, the recitation of Shema, recalling the redemption from Egypt, taking and shaking the lulav, eating matzah at the Passover seder—these are examples of commands that we can quickly and easily discharge, tick the box and then move on to some other activity.

We workers are industrious too, creating innovative and imaginative ways to fill our time when we are neither working for a living nor doing our Jewish thing. Even rest and leisure have an active dimension to them, so that we can focus on wearing ourselves out by living our lifestyles to the full and going to bed exhausted in mind and body at the end of each day.

As for the reward, we are encouraged to make every effort not even think about it, and certainly not to work in order to receive it (Avot 1:3), so whether the reward is big or small shouldn’t be allowed to enter the equation.

Finally, is the Master so demanding? It can he argued that He is not. Who but an easy-going God would create the notion of the mitzvah kiyumit, the commandment that one can go through one’s entire life without fulfilling? Tzitzit, mezuzah, challah—these are all examples of precepts that depend entirely upon the circumstance of a person possessing a four-cornered garment, a doorway or a large enough piece of dough. Nor do we have to build a house with a flat roof so that we can oblige ourselves to fence that roof safely.

Arguably, every one of the mitzvot in the Torah, with the exception of the study of Torah, can be said to comply with at least one of the five points described in the “upside down” version of the mishnah we have just discussed. In contrast, talmud Torah complies with none of them—and only Torah study matches all five points listed by Rabbi Tarfon in the real mishnah text.

The trouble with tongs

According to an anonymous mishnah at Avot 5:8,

Ten things were created at twilight, just before Shabbat. These are (i) the mouth of the Earth [that swallowed Korach]; (ii) the mouth of [Miriam's] well; (iii) the mouth of [Balaam's] donkey; (iv) the rainbow; (v) the manna; (vi) [Moses'] staff; (vii) the shamir worm; (viii) writing, (ix) the inscription and (x) the tablets [of the Ten Commandments]. Some say also the burial place of Moses and the ram of our father Abraham. And some say also the mazikimas well as tongs made with tongs.

The last-minute creation of tongs that were made with tongs (Avot 5:8) has fascinated both the earlier sages and later commentators. For some this act of creation smacks of the divine: if you need tongs to hold hot metal while you beat it into the shape of tongs, where else but through God’s creativity could that first pair of tongs have originated? Others dismiss this view and remind us that all you need in order to make a metal object of any specific shape is a mould into which molten metal can be poured; for them, if there is any significance in this last-minute flurry of divine creativity, it must lie elsewhere.

For one rabbi at least, the tongs created just before the first Shabbat point to a famous argument in the Talmud (Berachot 35b) between Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and Rabbi Yishmael:

Our Rabbis taught: “And you shall gather in your corn” (Deut. 11:14). What is to be learnt from these words? Since it says: “This book of the law shall not depart from your mouth” (Joshua 1:8), I might have thought that this instruction is to be taken literally, so it says: “And you shall gather in your corn”, which implies that you should combine the study of them [i.e. the words of the Torah] with a worldly occupation. This is the view of Rabbi Yishmael.

Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says: “Is that possible? If a man ploughs in the ploughing season, sows in the sowing season, reaps in the reaping season, threshes in the threshing season, and winnows in the windy season, what will become of the Torah? No! But when Israel perform the will of the Omnipresent, their work is performed by others, as it says: ‘And strangers shall stand and feed your flocks…’ (Isaiah 61:5). and when Israel do not perform the will of the Omnipresent their work is carried out by themselves, as it says: ‘And you will gather in your corn’. Not only that, but the work of others will also be done by them, as it says: ‘And you will serve your enemy…’ (Deut. 28:48). Said Abaye: “Many have followed the advice of Yishmael, and it has worked well; others have followed Rabbi Simeon bar Yochai and it has not been successful”.

What does this argument have to do with tongs? In essence, the point of tongs is that they are used for making things that are needed for the purposes of work. Was mankind initially created in order to live a life of contemplation in the Garden of Eden, where all human needs would be met without the need to work at all? If so, they should not therefore have had any need for tongs. Supporters of Rabbi Yishmael’s view might argue that the creation of tongs during the Six Days of Creation is proof that man was initially supposed to work as well as to learn. Supporters of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s view could counter this by arguing that it was only just before Shabbat—after Adam and Eve had sinned and had failed to recognise the possibility of repentance—that the tongs were made. Initially, therefore, man’s task in the newly-created world involved no labour at all.

Based on a comment by Rabbi Yitzchak Ze’ev Yadler, Tiferet Tzion.

Finding that elusive right path

At Avot 2:13, Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai gives five of his illustrious talmidim a task: “go out and take a look at the good path to which a person should adhere”.

All five give good answers. In brief, Rabbi Eliezer suggests a “good eye” (i.e. generosity), Rabbi Yehoshua “being a good friend”, Rabbi Yose HaKohen “being a good neighbour”, Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel offers “ability to see what’s coming” and Rabbi Elazar ben Arach proposes “a good heart” (i.e. a spirit of magnanimity). Rabbi Elazar ben Arach’s answer is preferred to the other four on the basis that it is broad enough to embrace them too.

In his Melitz Yosher al Pirkei Avot, Rabbi Reuven Melamed observes that this selection of answers is surprising. Each of these five talmidim is a giant of Torah, a man of immense learning. Yet not one of them gives the answer that probably most contemporary rabbis would be likely to give: “learning Torah”.

This omission, Rabbi Melamed suggests, is highly significant. Even at the highest level of Torah scholarship one is not a complete person until a further level is added. That is the level at which a person strives to perfect his relationship both with fellow humans and with God. Each of Rabban Yochanan’s five disciples was offering a pathway to achieve this end: for four of them that path was more narrowly defined. The fifth suggested not so much a pathway as a general attitude.

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