March in April: a new book on Avot

Published last week on Amazon is a new book on Pirkei Avot, authored by Martin March. It's Who Were the Fathers? A Guide to the Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) From a Historical Perspective. I've not yet had a chance to get my hands on it, but it's on sale via Amazon here. Details on the Amazon page run like this:

Martin March has written this book for those who wish to be exposed to one of those facets that most of the popular commentaries to Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) fail to explore in any detail, namely the historical settings against which the individual comments of its mishnayot were set, and the religious, political, and social circumstances that gave rise to those comments. In his book, the author has given us this much needed background as his notes on their biographies open a window onto their ideologies. It is replete with historical insights that will reveal new meaning to each mishnah and brings to life aspects of the fascinating, formative and turbulent period in which the Mishnaic Sages lived. Both the novice and the veteran student will find much in the work to benefit them, and aid them in a deeper understanding and greater appreciation of the times and the words of our fathers and teachers. This truly is a concise, accessible and compelling guide to the great sayings of our Sages, mishnah by mishnah.

Martin March was born in London, UK, and obtained his M.A. at Jews’ College, London. He has been an eternal Torah student and a popular teacher for over 65 years known, both in schools and synagogues, for the depth and lucidity of his Tanach shiurim, and for his critical analysis of our traditional texts and sources. He made aliya, with his wife, in 2015, and now lives in Jerusalem where he continues to give weekly shiurim.

I understand that there will be book launches in Jerusalem in the near future and I shall provide details as and when I get them, for any reader who might wish to attend.

"If I Am Not For Me": the Possible and the Plausible

Students of the Written Torah are often confronted by “documentary” approaches to their texts. They are not alone. Those who study the Torah sheb’al peh (the so-called Oral Torah) face them too. This is because, though in Jewish tradition the Torah sheb’al peh was passed through the generations—in some cases from the Giving of the Law at Sinai itself—our only evidence of it today consists of recorded versions in manuscript or print format. Though we learn that some Tannaim kept their own written notes on the Oral Law, none are extant and even the earliest written versions of the oral tradition were made many centuries after the redaction of the Mishnah in around 180-200 CE.

The first perek of Tractate Avot features a case in point.  Hillel the Elder famously teaches (in Avot 1:14) “If I am not for myself, who is for me?” While there is no consensus as to what Hillel actually meant by these words, until the last century there was no doubt that this was what he taught. This consensus was breached in 1940 by Rabbi Baruch HaLevi Epstein in the commentary on Avot contained in his Baruch She’Amar. 

Rabbi Epstein was troubled by the word “I”, since Hillel uses the same word in a troublesome context in Tractate Sukkah (53a) where he teaches, in the context of the Simchat Bet HaSho’evah celebration, “If I am here, everyone is here, but if I am not here, who is here?” Taken literally, these words seem surprisingly conceited when spoken by the humble Hillel, and it is difficult to extract from them any sort of take-home message for the Talmud student.

The solution, suggests Rabbi Epstein, lies in the Hebrew letters aleph-nun-yud that constitute the word ani (“I”).  Within the technique of writing Hebrew texts, it has long been usual to abbreviate words by leaving out one or more letters. After giving several examples of words that were sometimes foreshortened, Rabbi Epstein explains that ani is actually a short form of a name of God (aleph-dalet-nun-yud). Accordingly, what Hillel is really saying is not “If I am not for me, who will be for me?” but “If God is not for me, who will be for me?”  This explanation also removes the need for a literal understanding Hillel’s quote from Sukkah and even ennobles it: “If God is here, everyone is here, but if God is not here, who is here?”

Even though none of the examples cited by Rabbi Epstein concern the name aleph-daled-nun-yud, his explanation of the mishnah in Avot is an appealing one and has been endorsed in Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau’s Yachel Yisrael. Are we however obliged to accept it?

If Hillel’s ani was originally God’s name, the scribes would have known that this was so. They would all have had to make the same conscious decision to abbreviate aleph-dalet-nun-yud as aleph-nun-yud. Then, even though this teaching is part of the Oral Law, transmitted through the generations by word of mouth, Hillel’s original teaching would have had to be lost or forgotten by entire generation of Torah scholars. Eventually, someone would have found this teaching and, having never heard it recited orally, would have had to forget that God’s name was sometimes abbreviated by leaving out the letter dalet. When compiling the tractate of Avot, Hillel’s direct descendant Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi—who seems otherwise to have a large degree of familiarity with his famous ancestor’s teachings—would then have had to accept the new teaching at face value, incorporating it into Avot with ani and not the name of God, and presumably not even suspecting that Hillel might have been referring to the deity.

This chain of events is possible. We must however decide for ourselves if it is also plausible.

The Fantastic Mister Jackal, or "Let sleeping foxes lie"

Foxes feature prominently in two mishnayot in Avot. In Avot 2:15 Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus warns against getting over-familiar with the Chachamim since (among other things) their bite is like the bite of a fox. Later, in Avot 4:20, Rabbi Masya ben Charash teaches that it is better to be the tail of a lion than the head of a fox. 

The meaning of each mishnah is quite easy to accept at face value. In the first, we are warned to expect a sharp, snappy response from a learned rabbi if we speak with him in a manner that is less than respectful. In the second, we understand that it is better to be even an insignificant part of a noble enterprise than to lead a crafty, perhaps disreputable one. Foxes, after all, bite and are cunning. 

Professor Yehuda Felix however puts the metaphorical cat among the pigeons when he argues (HaChai BaMishnah, 1972, cited by Avigdor Shinan, Pirush Yisraeli Chadash at Avot 4:20) that the word shu'al -- normally translated as "fox" -- in mishnaic times referred to the jackal. While both are members of the canine family, the jackal is larger, carries a far more powerful bite that can deliver rabies, and was found widely in the area in the era of the Mishnah and Talmud. 

It has been accepted for close on two thousand years that "fox" means "fox" and not "jackal". While the jackal would fit well in Rabbi Eliezer's mishnah, he is not a byword for cunning and would therefore seem somewhat out of place in Rabbi Masya's mishnah.  Maybe it is best to let sleeping foxes lie ... 

Are politicians immune from good behaviour?

In "Israel Elections: Why I may not vote this time", a Jerusalem Post opinion piece by Walter Bingham that was penned a few days before last week's General Election, the author cites the imprecation in Avot that one should not embarrass other people in public (Avot 3:15, per Rabbi Elazar HaModa'i) and then contrasts this principle with the behaviour of some of Israel's leading political figures. This itself raises an interesting question: does this principle apply at all to things said by, or about, politicians?

When it comes to rules of law, politicians are both governed and protected to the same extent as anyone else. Thus the laws relating to theft, murder, etc are applied equally to all. However, behavioural standards (middot) are a different matter. Role models such as rabbis and Torah scholars, parents and community leaders are expected to demonstrate a higher level of conduct than others. But what of politicians?

Avot clearly expects little of the politician. People are urged to avoid them because they are motivated by self-interest (Avot 2:3) and not even to make themselves known to them (Avot 1:10). If, like many politicians, they interrupt others and don't give a straight answer to a question, they are deemed to be golems (Avot 5:9).

Do we say that contemporary politicians live in a little bubble in which they are immune to insult and are therefore to dish it out to others, or do we say that politicians' behaviour demonstrates little other than their own unsuitability to hold office on account of their inability to control themselves and to respect others? The latter, I suspect.

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

In case you missed them, here's a list of items posted on Avot Today in March 2021:

Sunday 28 March 2021: Mending our broken places -- a never-ending task: Rabbi Tarfon's famous dictum about the job that we can neither resign from nor complete gets a neat make-over. 

Monday 22 March 2021: All the World's a Radio! What do Shimon HaTzaddik's trilogy of Torah, acts of kindness and service to God have to do with turning on the radio, dialling in and turning up the volume?

Sunday 14 March 2021: Hillel's Policy: Keep it Simple: It's important to match an answer to a small child's question so as not to confuse him with more information than he needs.

Wednesday 10 March 2021: "Love truth and peace": some Avot thoughts from a gentle rabbi:  Another second-hand bookshop "find" -- this time a set of derashot by Rabbi Ben Zion Meir Chai Uziel.

Sunday 7 March 2021: Spelling out the Praise: When Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai enumerates the praises of his five star talmidim in Avot 2:11, why does the mishnah have to say he is praising them? Is it not obvious?

Thursday 4 March 2021: When Good News Travels Slowly: Rabbi Yaacov Haber's Lev Avot was published back in 2007 -- but this informative account of the mishnayot of the first three perakim, viewed in the context of their Tannaic authors, has only just come into this blogger's hands.

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Avot Today blogposts for February 2021 here

Avot Today blogposts for January 2021 here

Avot Today blogposts for December 2020 here

Avot Today blogposts for November 2020 here

Avot Today blogposts for October 2020 here

Avot Today blogposts for September 2020 here

Mending our broken places -- a never-ending task

From the Jewish News of Northern California, 26 March 2021 ("We are imperfect — but commanded to do better" by Rabbi Niles Elliot Goldstein) comes the following quote:

As Pirkei Avot instructs, it is not up to us to complete the task of repairing our varied and innumerable broken places, but neither are we free to give up the lifelong, impassioned attempt.

What Rabbi Tarfon (Avot 2:21) actually says is somewhat less ambitious:

It is not incumbent upon you to finish the task, but neither are you free to absolve yourself from it. 

These words are themselves a sequel to the previous mishnah in which Rabbi Tarfon says:

The day is short, the work is much, the workers are lazy, the reward is great, and the Master is pressing.

Is Rabbi Goldstein's interpretation legitimate? In the context of his article, it certainly seems so. He writes of man's inherent imperfection and the need to improve oneself through the better deployment of one's freedom to exercise one's choice. Making the right decisions and then acting on them is definitely a life-long task from which there is neither relief nor let-up.

All the world's a radio!

Pirkei Avot is built on metaphor, simile, analogy -- which is why it's such fun to come across short, sweet articles like this one ("Radios and Judaism" by Karen Kaplan, on Chabad.org). 

In Pirkei Avot Shimon HaTzaddik says that the world stands on three pillars: Torah, avodah (prayer) and gemilut chassadim (acts of kindness). Just as a radio is only a silent box until it’s turned on and receiving signals, so the world seems spiritually silent to us without these three pillars. The first pillar, our holy Torah, is the detailed instruction manual for building and operating our radio. When we study the Torah, we transform ourselves into human radios to receive G‑d’s wisdom. That wisdom is also expressed in the Torah. So the Torah is both the instruction manual and the broadcast!

Dialling in and turning up the volume correspond to gemilut chassadim and avodah. A nice, thought-provoking set of imagery -- though certainly not one that would have occurred to Shimon HaTzaddik!

Hillel's policy: keep it simple

Hillel teaches (Avot 2:5) that one should never make a statement that cannot at first be understood if one intends that it should be ultimately comprehended.

I came across a good example of the applicability of this axiom while listening to a conversation between a four and a half year-old boy and his mother. The subject of this discussion was the mother's brother (to protect his anonymity let's call him Archie):

Little boy: "Mummy, how old is uncle Archie?"

Mother: "Uncle Archie celebrated his 37th birthday only last week".

Little boy (somewhat puzzled): "Yes -- but how old is he now?"

Though the mother's response was perfectly correct, it didn't quite address the child's need: less information would have done the job better. The child in question had some comprehension of both numbers and the measurement of time but was sometimes confused by the way they were expressed. Thus sometimes he said he was "four and a half" but on occasion he would say he was "half past four".

"Love truth and peace": some Avot thoughts from a gentle rabbi

Another recent second-hand bookshop "find" is Derashot Uziel. This little book, published in Jerusalem in 1991, looks at first glance like a conventional commentary on Pirkei Avot but it is not. The first part of the book is a reprint of the Hebrew text of Avot together with the commentary of Rabbi Ovadyah of Bartenura (printed below the text of the mishnah rather than in the margin). There then follows a set of nine lectures, or derashot, written in an elegantly simple Hebrew by the author, Rabbi Ben-Zion Meir Chai Uziel.  This gentleman was the first Sefardi Chief Rabbi of Israel and lived by the motto "Love truth and peace", something that his derashot certainly reflect. I've just started reading them in reverse order, starting with "Derech Yasharah" ("The Right Path," Avot 2:1) and so far I've not been at all disappointed.

Spelling out the praise

Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai had five exceptionally talented talmidim, and a mishnah in Avot (2:11) teaches how he used to enumerate the praises of each of these students. In short, Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus is a sealed cistern that retains every drop; Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananya makes his mother happy; Rabbi Yose HaCohen is a chasid (literally a pious person, also a person who acts in accordance with principles of kindness); Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel is sin-fearing and Rabbi Elazar ben Arach is like an ever-flowing spring.

Traditional commentators make much of these rabbis and the nature and the deeper meaning of these words of praise. One topic though tends to be overlooked. Why does the mishnah say of Rabban Yochanan that "he used to enumerate their praises" rather than the more frequently-found, if prosaic, formula "he used to say"?  Surely it is obvious both from their content and their context that what he says about his star pupils is praise--and mishnaic style suggests that the Tannaim prefer not to state the obvious.

A possible explanation is that the mishnah is teaching that each of these five attributes is something that can be a criticism if found in a person of lesser quality. Thus:

"A sealed cistern" is a positive quality in a talmid who retains only his rabbi's teachings (See Sukkah 28a), but a person who retains everything, regardless of its quality or substance, is like the sponge that absorbs everything indiscriminately (Avot 5:18).

A rabbi "makes his mother happy" and this is a good thing when her happiness is contingent on the performance of good deeds, Torah study and the like--but not when it is the consequence of the mother selfishly or jealously refusing to let go of her child (cf Bereshit 2:24: "So a man shall leave his father and his mother and cleave to his wife, and they shall be one flesh").

"Pious" is great, but not when the chasid is a chasid shoteh (a "pious fool," the man who responds to the sight of a woman drowning by saying that, as a religious person, it is inappropriate for him to look at her, even though that is the only way to save her: Sotah 21b).

"Sin-fearing" is also great, but a person can be paralysed into inaction by his terror at committing any sin if he goes into business, takes on a role of communal responsibility or even commits himself to marriage.

To be an "ever-flowing spring," full of ideas and enthusiasm, can be a precious asset. However, such a person can also be extremely annoying. If you have ever sat in class or in a shiur with someone who is always interrupting others in order to get his answer in first or to second-guess the flow of a line of argument, a person who cannot control his effervescence and simply will not shut up, you will know how destructive this asset can be.

In other words, Rabban Yochanan is emphasising that, when he uses these terms, they are words of genuine praise.

When good news travels slowly

 Earlier today I had the pleasure and the privilege of meeting Rabbi Yaacov Haber, a fellow Pirkei Avot enthusiast. I discovered that he is the author of a work on Avot, the first part (covering perakim 1-3) has already been published and the second part of which is in the pipeline. 

This book is Lev Avot: the commentary is in two parts. There is a concise commentary, itself titled Lev Avot, that provides an explanation based on classical sources. The second part, Banim al Avotam, frames the mishnayot within the context of the Tannaim who authored them. It's a lovely little book which, so far, I have found both enjoyable and informative. I was however saddened by the fact that, in the world of Pirkei Avot, there are so many books that, if one does not stumble across them by chance, one will never find. I have been reading works on Avot for decades and deeply regret the absence of accurate and timely information concerning the availability of new titles. This problem is not confined to Avot and is found elsewhere in Jewish literature, but it speaks badly of our ability to spread the word and share our thoughts and ideas with one another.  In secular fields like law, medicine and business studies, new books are soon discovered, publicized, reviewed and circulated. When we are dealing with books that have an impact on a person's life in this world and the next, should we not be equally efficient in spreading the relevant data?

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Part 1 of Lev Avot, by Rabbi Yaacov Haber, was published by TorahLab, Monsey, in 2007. ISBN 978-1-58330-967-4. It is available on Amazon here.

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

 In case you missed them, here's a list of items posted on Avot Today in February 2021:

Wednesday 24 February 2021: What applies to love applies also to hate -- and maybe also to fear:  Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks turns a well-known mishnah on its head, with results that are of potejtially wider application.

Thursday 18 February 2021: Dissociating from the collective: what is Hillel's real position? Can we truly predict Hillel's likely reaction to people who don't return to synagogues after the Covid pandemic?

Sunday 14 February 2021: A translator's problem, a metaphor and the path to harmony:  The word "tiferet" in Avot 2:1 does not literally mean "harmony" -- but there are times when the metaphor is quite apt.

Thursday 11 February 2021: Ben Azzai, social inclusion and a little extra sunshine. Here's praise for a good citation of Ben Azzai's teaching, plus a little question about the translation of Avot 4:3.

Sunday 7 February 2021: Suffering and learning Torah: where coping is key.  One of the 48 ways of acquiring Torah is "acceptance of suffering" -- but are we extracting the right lesson from this teaching?

Thursday 4 February 2021: Creation, kindness and an apparently irrelevant detail: Here's an ingenious explanation that links the concept of kindness to the curious mishnah (Avot 5:8) that lists the ten -- or is it 14? -- things said to be created at twilight of the world's first week.

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Avot Today blogposts for January 2021 here

Avot Today blogposts for December 2020 here

Avot Today blogposts for November 2020 here

Avot Today blogposts for October 2020 here

Avot Today blogposts for September 2020 here

Avot Today blogposts for August 2020 here

What applies to love applies equally to hate -- and maybe also to fear

The mishnah at Avot 5:19 begins with the words:

Any love that depends on a specific thing, if that thing is lost, to too is that love; and if it doesn’t depend on anything, it is never lost.

In “Hate: Curable and Incurable”, Covenant and Conversation: Deuteronomy, Renewal of the Sinai Covenant, 2019) Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks opens the possibilities contained in these few words by arguing persuasively that this proposition does not apply to love alone. It also applies to hate. In doing so, it explains an apparent anomaly in the Torah’s commands. This anomaly relates to how the Children of Israel should view the Egyptians, who had enslaved, oppressed and exploited them for centuries, even attempting genocide, and the Amalekites, who attacked them just once in the desert. 

The Torah commands that we are not to hate the Egyptians (Deuteronomy 23:8). We are however obliged to maintain perpetual hostility against the Amalekites (Exodus 17:16), even though we suffered far more at the hands of the Egyptians. Why should this be? 

An explanation is offered that, while both the Egyptians and the Amalekites hated the Children of Israel, the Egyptians had some reason for doing so: they saw this strong and increasingly populous alien tribe within their borders as a threat to their security (Exodus 1:19-20).  This reason might have been irrational and unfounded, but it was genuinely held. Once this alien tribe had departed, the reason for the Egyptians’ hatred departed too and, with it, the hatred itself. The hatred of Amalek however had no cause. A hatred that has no cause is a hatred that has no end.

It is worth considering whether this argument can be applied not only to hatred but to another word that is regularly contrasted with love: fear. Prima facie, the answer is yes, or at least it should be. If there is a reason why a person is afraid of anything—be it a dog, the dark, an unwelcome event, or another person—it is possible to address the cause of that fear. But where a fear is not conditioned upon anything it all and is quite irrational, it may never be possible to eradicate it. 

Dissociating from the collective: what is Hillel's real position?

Why should we go back to synagogue? This is the question posed by Rabbi Yosie Levine in his opinion piece for yesterday's Jerusalem Post. This piece asks, quite reasonably, why people should wish to return to synagogue prayer even when it is safe to do so once the threat of the coronavirus has finally abated. The rabbi, who gives various answers, also invokes the authority of Avot when he writes:

The notion of community serves as the animating force behind the project of building the mishkan. In describing its construction, the Torah tells us that God said, “And they shall make for Me a sanctuary so that I may dwell within them” (Exodus 25:8). Rabbi Moshe Alshich (1508-1593) notes that, conspicuously, the verse does not read “and I shall dwell within it.” It’s not the edifice that brings holiness into this world. It’s the people. An institution absent its adherents is no institution at all. It’s by virtue of coming together as a community that we bring holiness into our lives. That’s why even the sage Hillel, who was tolerant of virtually everyone, had no tolerance for those who dissociated from the collective (Pirkei Avot 2:4) [in many siddur editions the citation is 2:5].

Hillel certainly teaches that a person should not separate him- or herself from the tzibbur, the congregation. Avot does not however provide evidence that Hillel failed to tolerate those who do dissociate themselves from the collective. Since in the previous perek of Avot Hillel urges people to follow the path taught by Aaron the Priest, to "love peace and pursue peace", we might more reasonably expect him to adopt a position of keeping the dialogue going and even being initially quite conciliatory in the hope of getting the dissociating party back on board.

Another point on which we might reflect is that, where the collective is split between those who return to synagogual worship and those who prefer the outside option, people are damned if they do and damned if they don't since whichever side they follow will require them turning their backs on the other side.

A translator's problem, a metaphor and the path to harmony

One of the most difficult mishnayot to translate into English [1] is the one that opens the second perek of Avot (i.e. 2:1). There, Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi teaches:

 רבי אומר, איזו היא דרך ישרה שיבור לו האדם--כל שהיא תפארת לעושיה, ותפארת לו מן האדם

I like to translate it like this:

Which is the right path that a person should choose for himself? Any one that enables him to experience self-respect and to earn the respect and admiration of other people.

This is not a literal translation, though. The Hebrew word תפארת (tiferet), which appears here twice, poses a stiff challenge for at least four reasons: (i) the word possesses many meanings; (ii) it is employed in relation both to God and to man, with obviously different connotations; (iii) in the context of this mishnah, it expresses a concept for which there is no obvious colloquial English equivalent and (iv) it is by no means clear what verbs—if any—are the right ones to use with it. 

The range of translations preferred by various authors is reflected by the chart below:

תפארת לעושיה  (translated above as “self-respect”)	ותפארת לו מן האדם  (translated above as “the respect and admiration of other people”)
Whatever will be of benefit to him	and earns him the respect of other people [2]
Honorable to one who chooses it	and honorable in the eyes of others [3]
Whatever is a credit to himself	and earns him the esteem of fellow men [4]
One which reflects credit on him who does it	and which also reflects glory on him [in the eyes] of men [5]
Whatever is harmonious for the one who does it	and harmonious for mankind [6]
One which is honorable to thyself	and without offense to others [7]
All that is desirable for the one doing it	and desirable to him from mankind [8]
That which is distinguished, honorable for him who adopts it	and brings him distinction, honor from people [9]
Whatever brings glory to himself [before God]	and grants him glory before others [10]
Any that is an honor to him that does it	and gets him honor to him in the sight of men [11]
That which is an honor to him	and gets him honor from men [12]

My preferred translation gives the meaning as “self-respect” the first time it appears and as “respect and admiration” the second, since it is not normally regarded as praiseworthy for a person to pat himself on the back and applaud his own actions in the manner in which he might greet the same actions when done by others.

Of the options listed above, Chabad.org's "harmonious" approach has been preferred in a Times of Israel blog by Ethan Yakhin entitled "My experience interviewing R. Shlomo Katz". This piece, unsurprisingly since Rabbi Katz is an authority on the work of Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, is as much about the controversial composer as abour Rabbi Katz himself. In the course of it Ethan Yakhin writes:

In Pirkei Avot, we find wonderful advice. What is a straight path that man should choose? A path that brings harmony to the person and harmony between him and others (Pirkei Avot 2:1). In other words, “Be yourself.” Perhaps this is what Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach had in mind when he encouraged our individuality.

While it strays a long way from the literal meaning of the text, the use of "harmony" as a music metaphor when describing Rabbi Carlebach is most effective and, within that context, may well reflect Rabbi Yehudah's meaning.

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[1] This is not only a problem for the English. Translating into German, Rabbi Marcus Lehmann, The Lehmann-Prins Pirkei Avoth, makes exactly the same observation.

[2] Rabbis Avie Gold and Nahum Spirn, Alshich on Avos.

[3] Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, Authorised Daily Prayer Book.

[4] ArtScroll Publications.

[5] C. H. Moore, The Lehmann-Prins Pirkei Avoth.

[6] Chabad.org.

[7] Jewishvirtuallibrary.org.

[8] David N. Barocas, Me’am Lo’ez.

[9] Irving M. Bunim, Ethics from Sinai.

[10] Torah.org.

[11] R. Travers Herford, The Ethics of the Talmud.

[12] Herbert Danby, The Mishnah.