Sunday, 6 August 2023

Was Shakespeare Jewish? And is there proof in Pirkei Avot?

“Was Shakespeare a Believing Jew?” That is the title of a fascinating and provocative piece by Yehezkel Laing on the Aish website. You can read it in full here. The author, a journalist, actor and filmmaker living in Jerusalem, has gone to considerable effort to research not only the Bard’s plays but also his background—what little is known of it—in order to state his case.

Laing writes:

Shakespeare's plays draw upon over 2,000 references to the Bible. While Shakespeare could be expected to know the Bible, the world's most popular book, it is evident from his writing that he was familiar with its Hebrew version and with the Hebrew language in general. He also had knowledge of the Mishnah and the Talmud, including Pirkei Avot, Ethics of the Fathers, a Mishnaic compilation of ethical teachings and maxims [my emphases].

The Pirkei Avot evidence reads like this:

Mishnaic quotes appear in some easily identified lines, such as "What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine," in Measure for Measure (5:1) and "Sin will pluck on sin," in Richard III (4:2). While both lines are drawn from Ethics of the Fathers, their simplicity suggests that it might just have been a coincidence. But the line "Sin leads to sin" continues in in the Mishna with "the reward for a mitzvah is a mitzvah" (4:2). This too appears in Shakespeare’s Coriolanus in the praise of Marcius, a man who "rewards his deeds with doing them,"(2:2). It then becomes evident that Shakespeare has fully rendered this Mishna.

The following words of Marcius: “You cry against the noble senate, who, under the gods, keep you in awe, which else would feed on one another?” (Coriolanus, Act 1, Sc. 1) bear a close resemblance to Rabbi Chanina's words in Ethics of the Fathers “Pray for the welfare of the government – for if people did not fear it, a person would swallow his fellow alive” (3:2).

Both Rabbi Hillel and Hamlet comment in a similar manner when they see a human skull. Hamlet muses that perhaps it was the skull of a politician who thought he could "circumvent God" but is now being overruled by a lowly gravedigger. This is the same moral of "measure for measure" drawn by Rabbi Hillel when he sees a skull floating in a river. “Because you caused the heads of others to float, others caused your head to float.” (Ethics, 2:6)

Citing material from the other sources he mentions above, Yehezkel Laing references earlier literature on the Shakespeare-is-a-Jew hypothesis, including Was Shakespeare Jewish by Ghislain Muller, John Hudson’s Shakespeare’s Dark Lady and several books by David Basch. He concludes:

Was Shakespeare a Jew? The jury is still out. But if his writing is any indication, it came from deep within a Jewish soul, yearning to be free.

I know little of Shakespeare’s origins and religious inclinations—if any—but I believe that even the inclusion of Jewish ethical material in his plays and sonnets is hardly convincing evidence of his knowledge of Judaism, let alone membership of the Jewish people. As the Bartenura indicates in his commentary to Avot 1:1, many of the moral principles adduced in Avot are not exclusively Jewish. We share them with the other nations of the world. The difference between our moral code and theirs, at least as reflected in Pirkei Avot, is that other cultures have derived their moral axioms from the exercise of their reason, while ours have been gifted to us by God on Mount Sinai.

I would only add two further points. The first is that, if there was even a small suspicion on the part of anyone that William Shakespeare was Jewish, it is improbable that he would have been baptised, married and buried in local churches. And, from the perspective of halachah, there is no evidence to suggest that his mother, Mary Arden, was Jewish. If he was born a non-Jew, his subsequent conversion was unlikely in a country where Jews were banned from residing.

Secondly, there is quite an entertaining sequence of “Was Shakespeare a…?” investigations. Even apart from the thesis that Shakespeare was Jewish, a ten-minute trawl of the internet revealed theories that the Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon was (in no particular order) an antisemite, gay, bisexual, not the author of his plays or a team of authors, a woman, a Muslim (‘Sheikh Pir’), a Buddhist, a closet Jesuit, a government spy, Scottish, on the ADHD and Asperger’s spectrum, a psychopath, an international socialist, a conservative, and an alien from outer space.  My feeling is that, if one looks hard enough through his prolific writings, one can find spurious evidence that Shakespeare was anything you want him/her to be.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Wednesday, 2 August 2023

Don't say "mummy's in the toilet"!

Back in the day, mobile telephony had yet to be invented. Each home that could afford it had its own phone. When the phone rang, you answered it. If it wasn't for you, you asked who the caller wanted to speak to.

As a small child, when I was taught how answer the phone, my father cautioned me: “You must never say ‘mummy’s in the toilet’; just say she’s busy”. I agreed to do as I was told but I didn’t see why I should. Everyone goes to the toilet after all, I thought, even the Queen (my grandma said so!), and when I was very young I was even praised for doing so myself. Anyway at this time I was too young to appreciate that I was being told not give an accurate and unvarnished account of the situation.
Truth is a precious and highly-valued commodity in Jewish life. Midvar sheker tirchak,says the Torah, “distance yourself from falsehood” (Shemot 23:7). Pirkei Avot underlines the point. Truth is one of the three things on which life on Earth depends (1:18); conceding the truth is one of the seven practices associated with a person who is wise, not one who is uncultivated (5:9); it is also one of the 48 bases on which Torah learning is acquired (6:6). So truth is vital—but do we not depend on falsehood too?
I recalled my father’s instruction about answering the phone when I found R' Chaim Friedlander discussing a similar topic in Siftei Chaim: Middot veAvodat Hashem. There he relates the classic aggadic story of a rabbi who relocates to a town called Kushta (Aramaic for ‘truth’), where everyone tells the truth and no-one dies before their time (Sanhedrin 97a). One day a visitor calls to see his wife, who was washing her hair. Believing that it would be immodest to mention this to the caller, he says to the caller that his wife is not there. In consequence, his two sons die.
From this tale it appears that it is imperative to tell the truth at all costs. But is this right and proper? In the first place, the rabbi’s answer was immaterial so far as the caller was concerned: the wife was unavailable, and therefore not there to receive the caller, whether she was washing her hair, saying her morning prayers or sleeping off a hangover from the previous night. Moreover, we know that it is sometimes a mitzvah not to tell the truth, for example to save life or to make peace.
How can this be explained? In cosmic terms, every item of sheker that enters the world has an impact on it. In the case of any individual lie, the impact may be small. However, the impact of many lies will be cumulative. The fact that there are countervailing priorities such as the need to save life, make peace or—as in this instance—preserve modesty does not prevent sheker from having its effect. Essentially, truth and falsehood are absolutes: something either is true, or it isn’t.

Let’s go back to the Garden of Eden. Before Adam ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good or evil, his worldview was therefore based on the binary distinction between true and false. Once he had ingested and internalised good and evil, he was now faced with qualities that were not absolute but relative: there are shades of good and evil and one is sometimes forced to choose between courses of action that have both good and bad consequences.

The teachings of Pirkei Avot do not focus on theoretical issues of this nature. In our daily lives we accept the importance of truth—but with two qualifications. First we have to recognise that truth, justice and peace are equal partners in our lives (Avot 1:18). Secondly, even where we are obliged by halachah not to tell the truth, we should still concede that the truth remains the truth even if we may not actually articulate it through our own speech (Avot 5:9).

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, post here.

Tuesday, 1 August 2023

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

If you were away or busy during July, you may have missed all or any of the posts listed below. Do please take the opportunity to enjoy them at your leisure now.

Sunday 30 July 2023: So what does it really mean to love peace? When you read the same words often enough and always hear the same explanation, it's easy to overlook the possibility that they may convey another meaning -- even with a topic as plainly obvious as Hillel's advice at Avot 1:12 to love peace. 

Wednesday 26 July 2023: Beyond understanding. Another piece of advice from Hillel is not to say anything that can't be understood if the objective is for other people to understand it (Avot 2:5). Do the mournful threnodies which we recite on Tisha b'Av breach this guidance?

Monday 24 July 2023: When two giants meet: a modern midrash? Our sages emphasise the importance of learning with enthusiasm and not letting one's mindset go stale (Avot 1:4). To illustrate this, R' Chaim Druckman records an encounter between the celebrated musician and composer Leonard Bernstein and the iconic artist Pablo Picasso. But did they ever meet, and does it matter whether this anecdote is true or not?

Friday 21 July 2023: Don't touch, don't even talk? One of the most controversial mishnayot in modern times is that of Yose ben Yochanan ish Yerushalayim, that one should not talk too much with even one's own wife, not to mention other people's. This difficult mishnah is tackled head-on in a new book, Reclaiming Dignity

Wednesday 19 July 2023: When it's time to raid the fridge... A baraita at Avot 6:4 urges the serious Torah student to adopt an ascetic lifestyle. But how far, and how long, need self-denial go?

Monday 17 July 2023: When Peter Rabbi met Pirkei Avot. A chance finding of two quite contrasting books on the same pile of unwanted literature opens up questions regarding the moral standards of one of Beatrix Potter's best-loved children's characters.

Friday 14 July 2023: Seeking out the hidden talent. R' Yaakov Hillel, commenting on Avot 1:13, laments the fact that people tend to follow big-name rabbis with high media profiles, while great Torah scholars are never recognised because they sit quietly learning away in out-of-the-way places. But how are we to find them when they are hidden?

Wednesday 12 July 2023: When knowing stuff is not enough. Exploring the parameters of Avot 4:1 (Who is wise? The person who learns from everyone), we ask whether emotional intelligence has a place in Pirkei Avot.

Monday 10 July 2023: Worth looking into. Here are four Avot-related snippets that may interest you. Enjoy!

Friday 7 July 2023: Peace and Pinchas -- again. We revisit the question whether Pinchas is an appropriate role model for peace seekers in light of an item in the Pittsburgh Jewish Chronicle.

Wednesday 5 July 2023: Picking the right fight. Hillel (Avot 1:12) urges us to model ourselves on Aaron when pursuing peace. Why Aaron, we ask, and not Moses or Pinchas? 

Tuesday 4 July 2023: A hang-out for sages or a cause for jealousy? Yose ben Yo'ezer ish Tzeredah says (Avot 1:4) that we should open out homes to sages so that people will flock to our houses to hear and learn from them. What might happen if everyone tried to do this?

*******************

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
Avot Today blogposts for January 2023

Sunday, 30 July 2023

So what does it really mean to love peace?

We are all peace-lovers, one way or another. Even warmongers pay lip-service to peace, extolling its virtues even if what they have in mind is peace on their own terms. Is it necessary, then, for anyone to remind us to love peace? Presumably it is because, when R’ Yehudah HaNasi compiled Avot, the first of Hillel’s teachings to be included addresses exactly that topic:

הֱוֵי מִתַּלְמִידָיו שֶׁל אַהֲרֹן, אוֹהֵב שָׁלוֹם וְרוֹדֵף שָׁלוֹם, אוֹהֵב אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת, וּמְקָרְבָן לַתּוֹרָה

[In translation] Be among the disciples of Aaron—love peace, pursue peace, love people and draw them close to the Torah.

The fact that we have often discussed this mishnah suggests that there is plenty to say about it. Here’s another perspective, one I came across recently in Avodat Yisrael of R’ Yisrael Shabbetai, the Maggid of Kozhnitz.

“Peace” in this mishnah is usually assumed to be peace between enemies or parties who are in dispute with one another. Not so, the Maggid suggests. Here “peace” is a higher objective—that which should exist between Israel and their Father in Heaven. With this sort of peace in mind, a true talmid of Aharon has licence to rebuke the Jewish people constantly in order to draw them towards God’s service.

The Maggid is not the only person to take the view that what Hillel means is peace between us and God. The same thought is expressed by R’ Chaim Palagi in his Einei Kol Chai, where he bases it on his reading of a midrash (Midrash Tanchuma, Pinchas 1) that emphasises the importance of peace in various contexts. The Maharal also alludes to this notion, in the midst of a far longer discussion in his Derech Chaim. But it is stated quite bluntly by the Maggid.

One’s first response to this proposition might be to reject it outright. Aharon’s midrashic persona is synonymous with the making of peace between quarrelsome individuals. In contrast, neither in the Torah nor in midrash do we find him rebuking the masses. Rather, the opposite seems to be the case. When the people clamour for a replacement for the missing Moshe, he does not chide them but actually facilitates the making of the Golden Calf, and when Korach and his fellow rebels challenge both his and Moshe’s leadership status he remains silent and lets Moshe do the rebuking. So what might the Kozhnitz Maggid mean?

I think we can safely assume that the Maggid was familiar with all the midrashim about Aharon’s shuttle-style peace-making and would also have known that their application to this mishnah has been widely and routinely followed. On this basis, I believe that the Maggid was not contradicting the accepted wisdom when boldly saying that what is meant here is peace between Israel and their Father in Heaven. Rather, he was adding to it.

When we try to make peace between our fellow humans, it is usually a matter of resolving a dispute or disagreement between family members, businessmen, scholars that generates unpleasantness or friction. Our objective is to remove any hard feelings, to soothe the friction so that we do not have to live with their consequences: raised voices, recriminations, retribution or revenge. We believe, with some justification, that we have succeeded once all the noise dies down and everyone goes about their lives again in what we adjudge to be a normal manner.

Perhaps the Maggid is pointing us to a higher perspective. Peace is not just a cessation of words and deeds. It is a state of mind in which, if we love God and see the divine in each other, we can develop a positive attitude in which we contribute something with added value to other people’s lives as a token of our love for God. If the peace we love is not just the aftermath of a squabble but a sense of balance, of equilibrium between us as a community and the God who made us in His image, we are getting closer to Aharon’s ideal.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Wednesday, 26 July 2023

Beyond understanding

Tisha b’Av (the 9th day of Av) is almost upon us. This is the day on which we remember, among other things, the destruction of the First and Second Temple, the sack of Jerusalem and the expulsion of the Jewish people from the land God promised and then gave them. We mark the day with prayer, fasting, reading the Book of Lamentations and various other practices that are associated with mourning and solemnity; some of these extend even to midway through the following day.

One of the traditional features of Tisha b’Av observance is the recital of kinnot, verses of lamentation which describe the suffering of the Jewish people not just in the Temple era but throughout our subsequent history. Some kinnot are of ancient provenance; others are sadly recent and commemorate the Holocaust—an event still within the memory of the last few remaining survivors of its horrors.

 Until relatively recent times, kinnot were simply chanted one after the other by Jews in mourning mode, sitting on the floor of the synagogue, without a break and without any explanation. There is now however a popular and increasingly widespread trend towards the selection of only a sample of kinnot, each of which being introduced in turn by a rabbi or congregant who could say something about its structure, function and content. If one is to understand the kinnot this is generally necessary, since many are replete with embedded biblical references, complex rhyming schemes, acrostic coding and occasionally baffling if vivid imagery.

Hillel (Avot 2:5) teaches:

אַל תֹּאמַר דָּבָר שֶׁאִי אֶפְשַׁר לִשְׁמֽוֹעַ שֶׁסּוֹפוֹ לְהִשָּׁמַע

Translation: Don’t say anything that is impossible to understood when its objective is to be understood.

This teaching might well be aimed at the authors of some of the kinnot, where it is difficult to pick up the meaning on a first reading even if one’s Hebrew is good, because of their allusive references and poetical style. For us, sometimes grappling with them at a distance of many centuries since they were penned, the problem is even harder, but even contemporaries who were not scholars may have struggled to grasp their full meaning.

I have thought about this often. My conclusion is that the authors of the kinnot have not failed the Hillel test. There are two possible reasons for this. The first is that, while we now have a corpus of kinnot that are printed and widely distributed at little cost throughout the Jewish world, some of them would have been written with specific communities, or even individuals, in mind, and they would have been well understood by their intended audiences. The second is that some of them reflect the personal feelings of their author and may have been written as a sort of therapy, as a way of trying to make sense of events that are too big for many people to accommodate easily, or at all, within the emotional and intellectual frame of one’s own existence.  

So, if we cannot understand the kinnot the way we would like, it would be unfair to blame their authors.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Monday, 24 July 2023

When two giants meet: a modern midrash?

It is axiomatic that our Torah learning should always be fresh and exciting. Even when we are reviewing the same passages of biblical text, the same laws, the same parables and tales for what seems like the thousandth time, they should be as new and challenging to us as if we had never met them before. If they feel stale and boring, it is for us to make the effort to generate a tangible sense of excitement when we encounter them. This is why, at Avot 1:4, when Yose ben Yo’ezer Ish Tzeredah urges us to open our homes to Torah scholars, he says: “drink in their words with thirst”.

To illustrate this, R’ Chaim Druckman (Avot LeBanim) cites a story told of the celebrated American composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein visiting the iconic Spanish artist Pablo Picasso, whom he found painting the railing (ma’akah) at the studio where he worked. Calling in on Picasso for a second time on the following day, Bernstein was surprised to find him painting the same railing again. When Picasso was doing exactly the same thing when Bernstein called in on him a third time, the composer asked him what was the point of painting the same railing every day. Responding with great feeling, Picasso said: “So they say you are an artist—but don’t you understand anything about art! Can’t you see with your own eyes that I’m not painting the same railing at all!”

The point, explains R’ Druckman, is that, if Picasso could find some chiddush, something new, when painting and repainting the same ma’akah, how much more so do we need to learn Torah in a way that is fresh to us every day. I am curious to know the provenance of this strange story, since there appears to be no factual basis for it. Though the lives of both Bernstein and Picasso are both well documented, I have found no evidence that they ever met at all.  I even tried to trace the tale on the hypothesis that it was not Leonard Bernstein but another musical Bernstein, Elmer (composer of the movie themes for The Great Escape and The Magnificent Seven), who may have visited Picasso, but to no avail.


That Picasso was painting a railing can however be explained. In 1953 he painted a picture, La Balustrade, which is illustrated here. La Balustrade is the French word for ma’akah and in English this work is known as The Railing. If Picasso was painting and repainting the railing that forms the most prominent feature of that work, his repetition and quest for a fresh visual image would be perfectly explicable.

I suspect that this is a made-up tale, a sort of modern midrash that is designed both to provide a powerful illustration of an important point and to show that it is understood not only within the world of Jewish scholarship but in secular society too. If any reader can assist me in finding out where it originated, or how R’ Druckman got to hear of it, I should be most grateful.

There is a further issue to consider: is it right to tell a story involving real people in order to illustrate a point that one is validly making, if it never actually happened. On the one hand, there are those who oppose this practice on the basis that it is bringing sheker, falsehood, into the world. Against that, there are those who feel that the end justifies the means and that if that is the best way to teach a principle -- and particularly a Torah-based principle -- there should be no objection to it. In our own tradition we have midrashim that contain tales that are powerful and vivid aids to our understanding. Some may be true, some may not -- and some certainly cannot since they cannot be reconciled with other midrashim or even the Tanach. But these midrashim were composed by scholars of a bygone age who were far closer to the giving of the Torah than we are, and whose words have received the approbation of Torah scholars ever since. Does that mean that we have a precedent that permits us to do the same thing, or that we certainly should not?

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Friday, 21 July 2023

Don't touch, don't even talk?

As an enthusiastic promoter of Pirkei Avot, I spend a lot of time, and even more thought, in trying to make its advice and guidance both relevant and useful in this current version of our ever-changing world. Only occasionally do I find myself on the back foot, having to defend a mishnah or baraita from critics who take the words of the Tannaim literally, seek to distort them or deem them to be simply inapplicable or irrelevant in the world we share today.

The mishnah that people find most provocative is not difficult to find. At Avot 1:5 Yose ben Yochanan Ish Yerushalayim says:

יְהִי בֵיתְךָ פָּתֽוּחַ לִרְוָחָה, וְיִהְיוּ עֲנִיִּים בְּנֵי בֵיתְךָ, וְאַל תַּרְבֶּה שִׂיחָה עִם הָאִשָּׁה, בְּאִשְׁתּוֹ אָמְרוּ, קַל וָחֹֽמֶר בְּאֵֽשֶׁת חֲבֵרוֹ. מִכַּאן אָמְרוּ חֲכָמִים: כָּל הַמַּרְבֶּה שִׂיחָה עִם הָאִשָּׁה, גּוֹרֵם רָעָה לְעַצְמוֹ, וּבוֹטֵל מִדִּבְרֵי תוֹרָה, וְסוֹפוֹ יוֹרֵשׁ גֵּיהִנֹּם

[Translation] Let your home be wide open, and let the poor be members of your household. But do not engage in excessive conversation with a woman. This is said even regarding one's own wife—how much more so regarding the wife of another. Hence, the sages say: one who engages excessively in conversation with a woman causes evil upon himself, neglects the study of Torah, and in the end will inherit Gehinnom.

It's easy to see why these words might trigger offence, and not just among women. Men and women in contemporary society speak together on an unlimited range of topics and in a vast array of circumstances without any thought of impropriety, so why should the Tanna assume that conversations—whether short, medium or long—should cause any sexual immorality? Are people’s morals so low? And have they so great an appetite and so little self-control?

 A recently published book, Reclaiming Dignity: A Guide to Tzniut for Men and Women, sets out to explain the halachic basis on which men and women should coexist in Jewish society today. In doing so it has not given itself the luxury of ducking any issues, which is why it has had to address this increasingly unpopular mishnah. This is how the authors open their discussion:

“The Rabbis warned about certain modes of social interaction that can lead us into dangerous situations. Idle banter between men and women in certain settings can easily become sexually suggestive, opening up possibilities for seduction and potentially destructive relationships.

It is clear that the Rabbis never prohibited men and women from speaking to each other in regular societal interactions that are free from sexual tension and innuendo. Nevertheless, the starting point of any conversation about interaction and mixing between men and women, or boys and girls, must be an awareness that la’petach chattat rovetz” (Bereshit 4:7). Even though we are capable of overcoming temptation in our daily lives, sin crouches at the doorways of social interactions, and the dangers of the slippery slope are real.

However, the Rabbis were also deeply cognizant of two other meta-principles that impact on this area: First, that the honest intentions of individuals can be a major factor, and second, that the specific safeguards that are needed and appropriate will depend to a significant extent on how normal it is in that society for men and women to mix, and consequently, the effect that such mixing will have on their social interactions…”

There then follows a lengthy but mature and well-balanced discussion of mixing and social interaction between the sexes in Jewish circles, in which halachah is neither hidden from view nor demonised. Rather, a number of rabbinical statements that prohibit, restrict or permit such interactions are placed within their context. This chapter also addresses the psychological elements that affect a person’s behaviour, such as habituation and, at the opposite extreme, hypersensitivity.

Ultimately, whatever the halachic norms, we depend in the real world on two things: self-control and good education. A person who can exercise self-control and who understands and appreciates the value of the norms of acceptable behaviour within his or her community will be better able to create and sustain friendships and relationships.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ****** *****

Reclaiming Dignity: A Guide to Tzniut for Men and Women, a compilation of essays edited by Bracha Poliakoff and with a halachic analysis by Rabbi Anthony Manning, was published earlier this year by Mosaica Press, Inc.

 For comments and discussions of this post on Facebook, click here.

Wednesday, 19 July 2023

When it's time to raid the fridge...

For many contemporary Jewish scholars, the Baraita at Avot 6:4 is challenging. It reads like this:

כַּךְ הִיא דַּרְכָּהּ שֶׁל תּוֹרָה: פַּת בְּמֶֽלַח תֹּאכֵל, וּמַֽיִם בִּמְשׂוּרָה תִּשְׁתֶּה, וְעַל הָאָֽרֶץ תִּישָׁן, וְחַיֵּי צַֽעַר תִּחְיֶה, וּבַתּוֹרָה אַתָּה עָמֵל, אִם אַתָּה עֽוֹשֶׂה כֵּן, אַשְׁרֶֽיךָ וְטוֹב לָךְ, אַשְׁרֶֽיךָ בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה, וְטוֹב לָךְ לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא

In translation: “This is the way of Torah: Bread with salt you shall eat; water in small measure you shall drink; and on the ground you shall sleep. Live a life of hardship and toil in Torah. If you do so, "You are fortunate and it is good for you" (Psalms 128:2): you are fortunate in this world, and it is good for you in the World to Come.

Happily, this baraita is authored by an anonymous Tanna, so there is no-one to whom one might complain that this is surely a disincentive to study Torah in an age in which, in the Jewish world, affluence is endemic, obesity poses greater health risks than malnutrition and material comforts are ubiquitous. However, for those who are of a naturally ascetic mind-frame, this all makes perfect sense. Food is a battleground between the spiritual and the material. By training oneself to consume the barest minimum, one physically promotes the value of the soul over that of the body. As for sleep, in midrash and in Jewish scholarly tradition there is a powerful case for fighting this enemy. One who is asleep is like one who is dead: it is impossible to learn Torah while held snugly in the arms of Morpheus. Hardship too is to be cherished, since every difficulty placed before a person’s quest to master Torah merely amplifies the reward to be gained by overcoming it.

Bearing this in mind, I was surprised to see a comment on this baraita in one of my recent favourite commentaries, the Tiferet Tzion of R’ Yitzchak Ze’ev Yadler.  He explains that, when the Baraita says “This is the way of Torah”, it means that one should be particular to follow this way at the point at which one is travelling the path to attain one’s Torah knowledge—but not when one has already merited to receive the crown of Torah, as it were. On gaining Torah scholarship, he explains, it becomes perfectly acceptable to sweeten one’s lifestyle and attend to one’s bodily needs for the good of one’s soul.

R’ Yadler brings a source for this proposition from a midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 34:3), which relates the deeds of Hillel HaZaken—a rabbi of impeccable credentials and, during his younger days, a man who faced both poverty and almost unendurable hardship in seeking to learn Torah. This midrash, which is actually pinned to a verse from Proverbs (Mishlei 11:17: “One who is kind to his own soul is a man of lovingkindness [to others]”), goes like this. After Hillel finished his teaching for the day, he said goodbye to his talmidim and walked off, but they walked along with him and asked him where he was going. He told them he was off to do a good turn to a guest in his house. When they remarked that he seemed to have a guest in his house every day he explained what he meant: the “guest” was his soul and the “house” was his body—here today and gone tomorrow, so definitely in need of some good sustenance. The midrash does not exactly say that Hillel went off for a slap-up meal, but R’ Yadler senses an implication that something sweet and tasty was on his menu.

I did enjoy this commentary, but still have some anxieties about it. One is that it does seem to be somewhat odds with the majority of interpretations of Avot 6:4. The other is that it would surely be a brave person who can indicate, by words or deeds, that he has somehow acquired enough learning to qualify for the crown of Torah and deserve his piece of cake.

 For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Monday, 17 July 2023

When Peter Rabbit Met Pirkei Avot

Outside the Gra shul in Jerusalem’s Sha’are Chesed area one often finds piles of unwanted books. Some come at a price and a small tin, chained to a nearby post or railing, is there to stimulate the conscience of honest purchasers. Other books are simply abandoned. The books are almost entirely in Hebrew and on Jewish religious subjects: worn-old Talmudical tractates, classic commentaries and outdated sets of subsequently reprinted texts will be found there, together with unwanted copies of monographs by hopeful local authors. I check these book piles regularly and often pick up hitherto unfamiliar commentaries on Pirkei Avot. Some bear inscriptions or dedications; many have the appearance of being unread.

Last week I picked up two books that stood in stark contrast with one another. One, The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter, is one of the most-read books on the planet. First published in 1902, it has been translated into 36 languages and has sold more than 45 million copies.  The other is Etz Chadashah al Masechet Avot by Tzvi Yehuda Gottlieb. Published in 1985, this slim volume is dedicated to the memory of the author’s grandparents, one of whom (after whom he was named) was a Rav in Kolno, Poland, in the latter part of the 19th century.

Despite its popularity, The Tale of Peter Rabbit does not sit comfortably with the messages of Pirkei Avot. Together with his siblings Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-tail, Peter goes out to play. His mother expressly warns him not to enter the garden of Mr McGregor. While the other rabbits comply with their mother’s request, Peter does not. He enters the forbidden garden, steals and eats various food items that Mr McGregor grows there. Having contracted indigestion through his over-indulgence in this forbidden food, he loses his shoes, his jacket and his dignity in the course of fleeing from Mr McGregor. The tale ends with his mother, far from scolding him for his disobedience and trespass, puts him to bed with some camomile tea to sooth his indigestion while his siblings tuck into a delicious supper.

Avot 5:13 teaches us that one who says “what’s mine is mine, what’s yours is mine” is wicked but Peter takes Mr McGregor’s produce as his own. There is no word of repentance, despite the emphasis Avot places on this virtue at 2:15, 4:13 and 4:22. Nor is there any tochachah, rebuke, of the sort that features in Avot 6:6. Peter has plainly not considered that everything he does is, as it were, a matter of record (2:1) for which he will have to answer (3:1, 4:29). I could go on. 

Sha’are Chesed is a largely charedi part of Jerusalem and I was surprised to find Peter Rabbit there at all. Apart from the fact that it is in English and reflects secular values, the handsome illustrations include depictions of females and some of the rabbits are plainly not dressed modestly—or at all. Still, I was disheartened to see that a commentary on Pirkei Avot and the path that Peter should have taken was discarded too—particularly since The Tale of Peter Rabbit showed far more signs of having been read than did the Etz Chadashah al Masechet Avot.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Friday, 14 July 2023

Seeking out the hidden talent

Writing in his Eternal Ethics From Sinai, R’ Yaakov Hillel speaks out on every issue that troubles him. Since he pulls no punches, this makes for reading that is always entertaining, generally stimulating and sometimes extremely discomforting. It also highlights points of conflict and inconsistency within our own thinking.

A case in point is Avot 1:13, where Hillel teaches נְגַד שְׁמָא אֲבַד שְׁמֵהּ. R’ Hillel, who renders this as “One who seeks a big name for himself will lose his own name”, makes no secret of his scorn for people who are only in the world of Torah for the fame, the glory and the self-seeking adulation that accompanies, in particular, the use of the electronic media as a means of promoting the word of God—be this the radio or the social media. In principle I do not think that this position can be faulted. The only problem, as usual, as with the practice. The use of the electronic media to promote Torah attracts attention, praise and celebrity whether the rabbis concerned seek it or not. Even before the era of the internet, rabbis who wrote sefarim, books of profound Torah wisdom, were adulated by readers whom they had never met, the Chafetz Chaim being an obvious example of a man whose scholarship and devotion to Torah brought him celebrity status which he had never desired and for which he had never sought.

But then R’ Hillel writes this:

“Until recently, our people were guided by the daat Torah of distinguished Torah luminaries. The elder Torah scholars of past generations recognized the caliber and potential of their younger peers. … Times have changed, and not for the better. Now, it is the billboards, magazines, leaflets, and direct mailings [note: R’ Hillel does not mention the internet, which is probably the most effective means of promulgating information on the planet] that brought their successors to the notice of the public, giving them the stamp of authority and reliability. For a fairly modest sum, these forums are readily available even to the most unreasonable and unreliable individuals. …

As a result, scholars who are fluent in Talmud and the writings of the halachic authorities are disregarded without a qualm, while a charismatic ignoramus [no name is mentioned] wheedles his way into broadcasting a daily mix of halachic rulings and personal opinion. What do these speakers know of halachah, and what are their opinions worth? Precious little. But the masses are not monitoring out-of-the-way batei midrash to see who is learning Torah through the night—they follow the newspapers and street placards. May G-d spare us, but this is how influence is established nowadays: advertising is everything”.

Strong words indeed. But there is plenty to say in mitigation of this position. Let us consider the following:

  •          There is an unprecedented explosion of Torah scholarship both in Israel and the diaspora, as the number of people who dedicate their lives to Torah study increases. As this continues, the number of Torah scholars with impeccable credentials is bound to increase. This makes it increasingly difficult to achieve any sort of consensus as to who are the gedolim baTorah, the great Torah scholars, of our generation.

  •          More and more people seek to learn Torah through means such as the social media, which were not available to previous generations. These new avenues for the promulgation of Jewish scholarship and values cannot be ignored.

  •          R’ Hillel rightly praises those who learn in out-of-the-way places and dedicate their lives to sincere and committed Torah study. But how are we to find them when they do so? We can hardly be blamed for ignoring them when we have no means of even discovering their existence, R’ Hillel praises those exceptional individuals whose modesty leads them to hide their learning and their piety from the light of day (he cited R’ Tzvi Michel Shapira as an example of a tzaddik who strove never to be caught performing a mitzvah)—but how are we to learn from tzaddikim and scholars who do this?

  •          In any event, with so many people far removed from Torah observance, there is much to be said in favour of even the popular ignoramus. In absolute terms, a scholar who knows 100 things is far superior to one who knows only five. But in practical terms, we benefit from a man who knows five things and teaches all five of them than from one who knows 100 but shares only three.

So, while R’ Hillel is right to condemn those who seek self-glorification and to mourn our inability to home in on the genuinely best and most sincerely committed Torah scholars, I do not believe that it is possible to go back to the old days or to pretend that the social media do not exist. In any event, the problem is not new. The cases of Boethus, Tzadok and Shabbetai Tzvi demonstrate that rabbis of lesser quality or with their own misleading agendas were fully capable of causing havoc, and sometimes irrevocable damage, without any printed or electronic media to promote them. At least now the social media can be put to good use in correcting errors, unmasking charlatans and providing links to correct and authoritative Torah sources.

What do you think?

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Wednesday, 12 July 2023

When knowing stuff is not enough

Pirkei Avot is full of references to the chacham, the person who is wise. We even have a couple of working definitions to help us identify someone who is one. At Avot 4:1 Ben Zoma teaches that the chacham is the person who learns from everyone, while at 5:9 an anonymous Mishnah gives us a check-list to help us distinguish a chacham from a boorish clod.  But is that enough? It is quite possible to learn from everyone but not learn anything of value, and whether a person is a chacham or a boorish clod turns out to be as much a matter of having good manners as anything else.

In his Avot leBanim R' Chaim Druckman, drawing on R’ Naftali Hertz Wiesel’s Gan Na’ul and the Malbim’s commentary on 2 Samuel, argues that there is a further requirement for a chacham: such a person must deploy wisdom for the purposes of good, not evil. On this basis, by keeping the company of such people—and ideally inviting them into one’s home (Avot 1:4)—their good deeds and careful speech can influence people, little by little, to develop the right attitude to life, and the behaviour to go with it, even if they never learned or even heard a word of Torah from them.

This leads to an interesting point to ponder. Can a person be a chacham in terms of possessing an abundance of common sense and emotional intelligence even if that person has no Torah learning? One can certainly learn from such people and can improve oneself by keeping their company. However, if we take it as axiomatic that it is only through the study and practice of the Torah that a Jew can properly acquire and cultivate the perfection of his or her character, it appears that more is required.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

As a footnote, not everyone is familiar with the term “emotional intelligence” and, among those people who know it, not everyone understands it in quite the same way. A good starting point is the handy definition offered on Wikipedia:

… the ability to recognize your emotions, understand what they're telling you, and realize how your emotions affect other people. There are five elements that define emotional Intelligence: Self-Awareness, Self-Regulation, Motivation, Empathy, and Social Skills.

Does this have anything to do with Torah Judaism? Arguably, yes. Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks discusses its place when contrasting the roles of priest and prophet. Citing Rav Soloveitchik, Rabbi Sacks writes:

The priest thinks in terms of universal rules that are eternally valid. The prophet is attuned to the particularities of a given situation and the relationships between those involved. The prophet has emotional intelligence. He or she … reads the mood of the moment and how it relates to longstanding relationships. The prophet hears the silent cry of the oppressed, and the incipient anger of Heaven. Without the law of the priest, Judaism would have no structure or continuity. But without the emotional intelligence of the prophet, it would become, as Rav Soloveitchik said, soulless, dry and insensitive [quote taken from “Emotional Intelligence” in Rabbi Sacks’ Covenant and Conversation series, here].

More recently, R' Dr Mordechai Schiffman ("What Makes Excellence -- Character or Intelligence?", here) has this to say:

Throughout the 20th century, the predominant view in psychology was that the most essential factor for success in school was intellectual abilities. Starting in the 1990s, this idea was challenged, with many arguing that other factors, such as emotional intelligence, personality traits, and motivation, play a predominant role in school achievement. This is a fairly contentious issue and the field is far from reaching a consensus on which is more important..., but it is safe to say that everyone agrees that all of these factors can contribute to success.

Is this sort of intelligence something that can be communicated to others so that they may learn from it? If the answer is “yes”, we may with justification describe someone who possesses it as a chacham.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Monday, 10 July 2023

Worth looking into...

If you are seriously committed to Pirkei Avot, here are four random items that may be of interest.

Avot in the social media 1: The larger the audience, the greater the responsibility. Though I try to keep up with the Dee Pirkei Avot Project, I’m sometimes a week or two behind. It’s a little while since the Project covered Avot 1:11, where Avtalyon teaches:

“Sages, be careful with your words, lest you incur the penalty of exile and be dispatched to a place of evil waters and the disciples who follow you drink and die, so the name of Heaven becomes profaned”.
The Project, based on an idea by Rebbetzin Chana Hughes, comments as follows:
“If you have more wisdom or knowledge, then by definition you have more responsibility; the power that you hold to influence others’ lives can be significant. Even if you have increased expertise in one area, people are likely to ask for your advice and ideas. The message [of Avtalyon] is particularly valuable today when social media enable more people than ever before to influence others. Although influencers may enjoy the rush of success and feeling of having an impact, it is also crucial to keep in mind the weight of responsibility that comes alongside it. The larger the audience, the more potential there is for misunderstanding and the clearer the communication needs to be”.
Avot Today will be revisiting the subject of the social media again soon, with a post on getting the right balance between learning Torah and spreading it—so watch this space!
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Avot in the social media 2. Spreading the word. So far, 2023 has been a good year for citations of Pirkei Avot on the electronic media. By the end of June last year, Google Alerts picked up 106 references to Pirkei Avot on blogs, websites and articles in the popular press and journals. This year, over the same period and using the same search terms, the number of citations had shot up to 169, an increase of nearly 60 per cent. The most frequently-quoted Mishnah is from R’ Tarfon (Avot 2:21): “It’s not for you to finish the work, but neither are you free to leave off doing it”, an aphorism that is as likely to be found in the mouths of a politician or business as being repeated by a Torah teacher. Next most-heavily cited is Hillel’s injunction to be like Aaron (Avot 1:12), loving peace and pursuing it. Hillel, with seven mishnayot in Avot, remains the Tanna whose teachings get the most citations (17), followed by R’ Tarfon (8) and Ben Zoma (5). Surprisingly, given its popularity last year, Yehoshua ben Perachyah’s advice to judge others favourably has hardly been cited at all in 2023. Does this reflect a change in social attitudes, or is there some other explanation?
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Be afraid—or at least respectful! At 4:15, R’ Elazar ben Shammua says:
יְהִי כְבוֹד תַּלְמִידְךָ חָבִיב עָלֶֽיךָ כְּשֶׁלָּךְ, וּכְבוֹד חֲבֵרְךָ כְּמוֹרָא רַבָּךְ, וּמוֹרָא רַבָּךְ כְּמוֹרָא שָׁמָֽיִם

 "Respect for your student should be as precious to you as your own; respect for your friend should be like your awe for your teacher—and you should be as much in awe of your teacher as you are in awe of Heaven”.

This Mishnah has been rendered into a song, Moireh Rabbach, by simcha singers and brothers Shea and Avrumi Berko, who add:
These inspiring words … portray the love and dedication that Rebbeim and Mechanchim have for their precious Talmidim day in day out, which leads to the awesome respect and admiration that parents and Talmidim alike, give in return to their beloved Rebbeim and Mechanchim.
You can access this song on this link (duration 4 minutes 22 seconds).
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Eternal wisdom. There’s a new ArtScroll title on Pirkei Avot, published this spring: R’ Yechiel Spero’s The Eternal Wisdom of Pirkei Avot. According to the publisher’s website:
In The Eternal Wisdom of Pirkei Avos master teacher and storyteller Rabbi Yechiel Spero shares with us an insight, a story, and a takeaway for every mishnah in Pirkei Avos. By combining the brilliant understanding of the Tannaim with stories as contemporary as today, Rabbi Spero offers us a powerful way to bring the messages of Pirkei Avos into our daily challenges and experiences, enhancing our relationships and bringing new, joyful meaning to our lives.
I’ve not yet had a chance to see it for myself but I’m all in favour of bringing the messages of Avot into our daily challenges, whether through stories of our sages or by seeking out novel interpretations of the messages themselves.

For comments and discussion of this post on Faebook, click here.