Incomprehensible

Reading an otherwise enjoyable book this morning, I had the frustrating experience of encountering a chapter which opened with a quotation.  Annoyingly, while the book was in English, the quotation was in Spanish and it came without an accompanying translation.

I like to think that, as a former university professor and as an author and editor in my own right, I am a more than averagely literate reader. I can cope with Shakespearean English and the King James Bible with the same facility with which I read Damien Runyan. My linguistic skills embrace Latin and Classical Greek as well as biblical and mishnaic Hebrew and a fair smattering of Aramaic. I can even cope with French menus and street signs. However, the range of languages spoken by human beings on this planet is vast and I have no competence in Spanish at all.

Hillel the Elder had something to say about dropping foreign-language quotations into one's writings. In Avot 2:5 he advises that a person should not say anything that cannot easily be understood if he intends that people should understand it.  He, I am sure, would have suggested either translating the Spanish quotation into English in its entirety or featuring a parallel translation for the convenience of readers.

There are many examples of this sort of thing, in print and in speech. One of the most frustrating is to attend a Jewish wedding at which someone stands up and makes a speech -- in English -- the main feature of which turns out to be a long and involved joke. As the climax of the joke approaches, it is clear that it is a real classic and everyone eagerly awaits the punchline.  When it comes, it is delivered in Yiddish (another language that I do not understand). Everyone falls about laughing but, when I ask them what the punchline means, they say they can't tell be because it wouldn't be funny in English. I remain unamused.

Never too early to repent!

A recent Jewish Journal post features a tweet that reads, in relevant part,

Teshuva, or the possibility of change, "precedes the world" says Pirkei Avot, the Sayings of the Fathers".

Not quite.  You won't find this proposition anywhere in Avot -- but you will find it in the Pirkei d'Rabbi Eliezer. This is the same Rabbi Eliezer who has something incisive to say about teshuvah in the second chapter of Avot, at 2:15. "Repent one day before your death!"  His pupils were puzzled at this and asked him how they could know which day was the day before their deaths. That, he explained, is the point. If you repent every day, you will certainly repent the day before you die.

Who is wise? A word on relative wisdom

Ben Zoma opens the fourth chapter of Avot with the famous question-and-answer: "Who is wise? The person who learns from all people". There he cites the first half a verse from Psalms in support of this proposition: "I gained insight from all my teachers ..." (Tehillim 119:99).

Listening to Dr Avshalom Kor's Be'Ofen Miluli slot on Radio Galatz this morning, I was reminded that there is more than one way of translating this verse. Since in Hebrew the preposition -מִ ("mi-") can mean both "from" and "than", the verse cited in Avot ("מִכָּל-מְלַמְּדַי הִשְׂכַּלְתִּי", mikol melamdai hiskalti) can also mean "I became more insightful than my teachers". This is indeed how Rabbis Avraham Ibn Ezra and Ovadyah Sforno learn it in their commentaries on Psalms. Curiously the Sforno's commentary on Avot makes no mention of his different understanding of the meaning of this verse in Psalms.

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 July 2020:

Sunday, 5 July 2020: Collective behaviour: the need to stick together. In praise of collaboration and cooperation.

Tuesday, 7 July 2020: Making man in God's image: a choice of supporting verses. Why does Rabbi Akiva pick one supporting verse over another when reminding us that man is made in God's image?

Wednesday, 8 July 2020: Chasing after peace -- or chasing peace away? Can one achieve peace by driving it away?

Sunday, 12 July 2020: The police: defund or defend? Reflections arising from the George Floyd tragedy.

Monday, 13 July 2020: Dogged pursuit of a rabbi. When can the choice of a teacher be like getting a guide dog for the blind?

Thursday, 16 July 2020: Committing spiritual suicide: a gloomy perspective.  When do words of moral chastisement enthuse a Torah scholar, and when might they deter him from his studies?

Friday, 17 July 2020: Anger: felt first, shown last.It is impossible for a normal person to feel no anger at all, but there are ways of processing it.

Sunday, 19 July 2020: Types of fear, Daniel Deronda and fear of oneself. Fear-related themes are frequently discussed in Pirkei Avot -- but whom is one supposed to fear?

Monday, 20 July 2020: The positive side of reaching 50. Advancing years are not all bad news.

Tuesday, 21 July 2020: The Chafetz Chaim, Avot and Hi-Tech. Search for a source for an appreciation of a mishnah that was taught two thousand years ago but has immediate relevance to modern technology.

Thursday, 23 July 2020: Lots of Avot, not so many ISBNs. Many commentaries on Avot are self-published. What does this mean?

Friday, 24 July 2020: Learning Avot in yeshivot -- a rewarding experience? Praise for an initiative that seeks to encourage more and better learning of Pirkei Avot.

Monday, 27 July 2020: Doing what is right and proper. Reflection on the "right path" and the "good path". Do they diverge?

Friday, 31 July 2020: Who is wise? It depends who you ask. Pirkei Avot offers one answer -- but Alexander of Macedon received a different one.

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You can check Avot Today posts for June here
You can check Avot Today posts for May here

Who is wise? It depends who you ask

Yesterday I was confronted with a common

attribution to Pirkei Avot of a quote that isn't there. "Who is wise? The person who sees what is coming". This answer is actually found in the Babylonian Talmud (Tamid 32a), where they are spoken by the Elders of the South, in reply to Alexander of Macedon.

The version that is found in Avot opens the fourth perek and is learned in the name of Ben Zoma. It goes like this: "Who is wise? The person who learns from every man".

Doing what is right and proper

This week's Torah reading comes from the Book of Devarim (Deuteronomy), verse 6:18 of which will resonate with every Pirkei Avot enthusiast. To remind readers, this verse reads:

וְעָשִׂ֛יתָ הַיָּשָׁ֥ר וְהַטּ֖וֹב בְּעֵינֵ֣י יְהֹוָ֑ה לְמַ֨עַן֙ יִ֣יטַב לָ֔ךְ וּבָ֗אתָ וְיָֽרַשְׁתָּ֙ אֶת־הָאָ֣רֶץ הַטֹּבָ֔ה אֲשֶׁר־נִשְׁבַּ֥ע יְהֹוָ֖ה לַֽאֲבֹתֶֽיךָ

This comes out in English as:

And you shall do what is right and good in the eyes of the Lord, in order that it will be well with you, and that you may come and possess the good land which the Lord swore to your forefathers.

The second chapter of Avot opens with the famous question of Rabbi Yehudah Hanasi: "Which is the right path that a man should choose for himself?" Answering his own question, he continues: "Every one which enables him to experience self-respect and to earn the respect and admiration of other people". A similar but different question is asked by Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai in the 13th mishnah: "Go out and take a look: which is the good path that a man should stick to?" His five top disciples offer their various answers in return.

Much is made of the fact that one rabbi is focused on the right path, while the other is looking for the good one. Are they different ways of looking for the same thing? If not, what precisely is the difference?  

Decisions are easier when
there's only one way to go

The quote from Devarim, above, should make it plain that the right path and the good path are not synonymous, since "right" and "good" are different things. Imagine two paths, one of which leads in the direction of service to God and one's fellow human, while the other leads to self-indulgence, excess and moral decay: it is easy to define one as the good path and the other as the bad one. However, one may face the choice of two or more paths which lead to the same good destination: as a matter of definition one is not choosing between the good and the bad, but rather a matter of picking the path that is right for the individual making the decision.  For example, you can help others by giving charity, by providing company, by offering sage advice or by sharing their burdens. Each is good, but we all have different talents and capabilities; we must pick the one that is right for us.

Curiously, the traditional Torah commentators seem to treat "right" and "good" as the same thing -- at least in the context of Moses' farewell speech in Devarim.  Rashi treats the two words as a single unit, meaning "lifnim mishurat hadin" (essentially, going that little bit further than you have to). As for the two main Targumim, what Onkelos translates as "right" is rendered as "good" by Yonatan, and vice versa.

Learning Avot in yeshivot -- a rewarding experience?

Many people in serious Torah learning treat Avot as a lightweight proposition. While other tractates of the Mishnah are assiduously studied, either by themselves with serious commentaries or as a springboard to the Talmud that comes to explain them, Avot -- which has no Talmudic masechta to call its own -- is little more than a handy place to find snappy quotes (or misquotes). If you were to ask a typical yeshivah bachur if he was learning Avot in his elevated place of advanced tertiary Torah education, his first reaction would quite likely be one of laughter.

This is why I was so pleased to learn this week that the massive and popular Jewish educational organisation Dirshu is vigorously promoting the study of Avot in yeshivot. According to The Yeshiva World website, this is

" ... an unprecedented venture, which will encompass the entire Jewish world, from Israel to South America, Europe, and Australia. As part of the program, the yeshivah bachurim will learn Pirkei Avos .... The learning will be followed by a test on the material, and monetary prizes will be awarded to those who succeed".

Once the yeshivah students have opened the pages of Avot, learned it thoroughly, passed the test and become entitled to their rewards, an interesting question arises: what will they make of the famous mishnah at Avot 1:3 in which Antigonus Ish Socho teaches that a person should not serve his Master on condition that he will receive a reward, or the equally famous mishnah at Avot 4:7 that he should not use his Torah learning as a spade to dig with?

The Jerusalem Post here
The Yeshiva World here

Lots of Avot, not so many ISBNs

It occurred to me this morning that many modern published commentaries on Avot lack full bibliographical details. They are often missing data such as the place and year of publication, the name of the publisher or an ISBN (International Standard Book Number, a unique number that enables each book to be identified even if shares the same title as another book written by an author with the same name. ISBNs are regulated by the International ISBN Agency.

Why are so many Avot books suffering from bibliographical deficiencies? Usually because they are privately published in limited editions as a labor of love, as a mark of respect to honor the life of a departed rabbi or relative, or because of the realities of the marketplace: their commercial publication is unlikely to show a financial return.

Sadly, one sometimes feels that there are more people wanting to write about Pirkei Avot than to read about it: the authors run to write, because of their enthusiasm for this most multifaceted of tractates, and the readers flee their writings through their natural reluctance to be told what to do and how to behave.

The Chafetz Chaim, Avot and Hi-Tech

In Avot 2:1, Rabbi Yehudah Hanasi teaches:

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

On this mishnah, a recent post on the Breslov.co.il website writes about Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan (the "Chafetz Chaim) as follows:

We marvel about the driverless car, but the car itself was invented in the 1800s. We marvel about wireless smartphones, but both wireless and telephones were developed right before World War I. Technology really got legs in the late 19th century.

The great sage who bore witness to the initial transformation from an industrial world to a digital one was the Chofetz Chaim.

His insights about hi-tech are relevant to this day. According to the Chofetz Chaim, hi-tech is an emuna learning aid. To better internalize the principles of the First Commandment, G-d gave us the telephone.

To better understand how Hashem could actually hear all of our voices all of the time, G-d brought into the world a device that can enable any of us to hear someone talking from thousands of miles away. If we could hear someone speaking lashon hara (slander) the other side of the planet, surely Hashem could hear it as well. If we could talk with more than one person on the phone, and hear voices from people in different cities countries and oceans apart, surely Hashem can hear everyone, everywhere.

Does anyone know where the Chafetz Chaim discussed this topic? I couldn't find it in my old copy of Masechet Avot im Pirushei Rabbi Yisrael Meir HaCohen (1974) under Avot 2:1.

The positive side of reaching 50

A recent opinion piece by Barry Katsman in the Jerusalem Post discusses the milestone of one's 50th birthday. He points out how the Zohar explains that the Levites were retired from Temple Service at the age of 50 because their voices no longer sounded so sweet -- and that "the strong fire that is within a man is cooled down".  Indeed, the Sforno adds that the retirement age for Levites is the basis on which we know that man's physical decline commences at 50.  Grim stuff -- but, as the article notes, reaching 50 has a positive side too: according to Avot 5:25, it is the age at which one is qualified to give advice. Of course, this is only a generalisation, but it is a comforting one for those who have reached the foothills of advanced middle age.  And, at 50, whether a person is able to give good advice or not, there is a better chance that he will be listened to. 

Types of fear, Daniel Deronda and fear of oneself

Daniel Deronda comes face to face with
the prospect that he may be Jewish in the
BBC adaptation of George Eliot's novel

Fear-related themes are frequently discussed in Pirkei Avot. We learn there of fear of Heaven (1:3) and fear of sin (2:11, 3:11), as well as other types of fear the exact nature of which we must infer from the context in which the mishnah uses the word. For example, we find two references to the relationship between fear and wisdom: (i) "If there is no wisdom, there is no fear -- and if there is no fear there is no wisdom" (3:21) and (ii) fear is listed among the 48 things one needs in order to acquire Torah wisdom (6:6).

Fear of oneself and of the inability to control the power of one’s ego are central themes of George Eliot’s novel of the rediscovery of Jewish identity Daniel Deronda (1876), which opens with the line “Let thy chief terror be of thine own soul”. It is possible to go through the references to fear in Pirkei Avot and see how far they apply to self-fear of this nature.

Does any reader know of any writings of traditional Jewish Sages or modern commentators that tackle the concept of self-fear, either as it applies to Avot or in general? If so, do please get in touch and let me know.

Anger: felt first, shown last

It is impossible for a normal person to feel no anger at all, since anger is one of the most basic emotions; indeed, it is something we share with many members of the animal kingdom. The object of the exercise from our point of view is to take our anger and channel it towards constructive ends rather than simply indulge in a spot of self-indulgent rage or upset others when we might do better to have a go at improving them.

Keep it under control!

At Avot 2:15 Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus teaches that one should be slow to anger: this suggests that it is a sort of nuclear option, to be kept in reserve for when everything else (offering reasons, being polite and friendly, exercising iron self-control in not retaliating) fails.  Rashi points out that this is what God does in Numbers 12:7-9.  The scenario is that Moses' siblings Miriam and Aaron are talking critically about Moses behind his back, in a manner of which God certainly disapproves. God displays His anger, but not before first telling Miriam and Aaron why.  

We should follow this example. Apart from the fact that there is an unimpeachable precedent for doing so, there is a practical benefit too.  If you show your anger first and then explain why, the person you are talking to will be smarting from the power of your rage and will pay less attention to your reasons: show your reasons first and then -- if it is really necessary -- show your anger and you will have made your point more effectively.

Committing spiritual suicide: a gloomy perspective

According to Avot 3:5,

 רַבִּי חֲנִינָא בֶּן חֲכִינָאִי אוֹמֵר: הַנֵּעוֹר בַּלַּֽיְלָה, וְהַמְהַלֵּךְ בַּדֶּֽרֶךְ יְחִידִי, וּמְפַנֶּה לִבּוֹ לְבַטָּלָה, הֲרֵי זֶה מִתְחַיֵּב בְּנַפְשׁוֹ 

Rabbi Chanina the son of Chachinai says: "One who stays awake at night, and travels alone on the road, and turns his heart to idleness, has forfeited his soul".

 Unsurprisingly the Sages have a good deal to say about this, some more gloomily than others.

This week I encountered one of the most depressing views of this mishnah I have ever seen, in Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe's 20th century mussar classic Alei Shur.  There, in vol. 2, p. 265, he reasons that, since the Torah has been given for people to live by, the continuation of one's life requires non-stop study of and meditation on the Torah. The moment one has time on one's hands but does not use it for the pursuit of Torah, one has turned his heart to idleness. Such a person has ceased to be even a basic entry-level talmid chacham and has truly forfeited one's soul.

It's okay for some ...

It must be wondered whether this reasoning is there to inspire prospective rabbis and Torah scholars to make greater efforts to fix the Torah permanently in their sights, or will it perhaps serve as a deterrent? It is also worth pondering on the thought that, if a Torah scholar is ever to reach out and impress those distant from the Torah through his words, deeds and lifestyle, he can do so more effectively by blotting the rest of the world out of his mind and focusing on Torah, or whether it is more efficacious to pursue other things but to reflect on them within the prism of the Torah and what its values have to offer the world at large.

Dogged pursuit of a rabbi

Twice in the first chapter of Avot (1:6 and 1:16) we are told aseh lecha rav -- make, get or appoint for yourself a rabbi. Reading through the commentaries, it appears that there many explanations as to why Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi should have thought it necessary to include the same advice twice. Here's another explanation: one needs one sort of rav for one's youth but a different sort for one's old age.

In one's youth, when still learning Torah and/or how to handle life, the advice of one's elders is generally essential, if not always welcome. The rav (rabbi, teacher) can fill in the gaps in one's knowledge and help cultivate a better understanding of the world and its challenges. The typical profile of the rav is that of an older, wiser persona, someone who can supplement and balance the more intimate input of one's parents by providing greater objectivity.

In one's old age the position is quite different.  Most of the wisdom one needs in order to navigate life has been acquired and very probably put into effect, and the issues and uncertainties that accompany every step in one's path through youth and middle age have been replaced by the certainties of retirement and gentle decline. Such a person may have no obvious need for the guidance and instruction of a teacher. However, the mishnah teaches that the need for a rav is no less great. How so?

Training for the rabbinate?

If one can draw an analogy, the rav in one's later years is rather like a guide dog for a blind person. The guide dog may not have much input in its owner's intellectual and moral development, but it can stop its owner walking in front of passing traffic or stepping off the embankment and falling into the river. This sort of input is vital -- and the dog must be alert to the blind man's needs and to act without being prompted when action is required.  These are also the qualities of the rav in one's senior years: to be able to keep his talmid morally and halachically safe and sound -- and to be able to do so in a tactful manner without being asked.

The police: defund or defend?

Disputes among humans cannot wait for divine intervention to resolve them: this is why we have rules, those given by God and those created by man, that govern both the machinery for resolving disputes and the justice that should be inherent in their outcome. But setting the machinery of justice in motion and reaching a fair result are two quite different things, and the resolution of any dispute becomes far more difficult when part of the machinery for resolving disputes is itself a part to the dispute.  This has happened in some recent tragic instances in the United States, where the activities of a police force are the focus of contention.

In an ideal world, the function of the police force embraces the identification and, if necessary, the apprehension of people suspected of committing criminal offences, the verification of potential witnesses and the safe delivery into court of those in custody so that potential offenders may be charged and tried. In this ideal world the police have no interest in securing the conviction of the innocent or of doing anything that may reduce the prospect of any potential offender being tried by due process of law.  We do not however live in an ideal world and there is uncontroverted evidence that individual members of the police force, whether motivated by malice or an excess of zeal, overstep the parameters of acceptable behaviour. There is also the constant suspicion, for which there may be supporting evidence, that this behaviour is tolerated or even encouraged at a higher level.

From a distance of several thousand miles, it is easy to take an uninvolved, non-partisan and objective view of the problems faced by others and their possible solutions, without feeling or indeed appreciating the pain and angst, the fear and frustrations experienced on both sides. However, the issue of defunding offending police forces raises issues of principle that are so important that the issue has attracted a lot of attention in places far removed from the epicenter of recent malfeasances.

The police will have to be more cuddly
and user-friendly if they hope to regain
the confidence of the community

Pirkei Avot (3:2) teaches: "Pray for the welfare of the government, for without fear of it, a person would swallow his fellow alive". This teaching, from Rabbi Chanina segan HaKohanim is applicable in every country and every generation, as an op-ed in Hamodia has recently observed. However, the current problem is that many people are in fear that it is the police, as part of the machinery of government, which is swallowing people alive. While we should still pray for the welfare of the government, it should be apparent that this is not enough. Where the police require greater supervision, more moral and ethical training and root-and-branch reform or reorganisation, the proper course is surely to start by working out what is needed for the good of the community. Then calculate how much it costs.  Defunding the police, taken by itself, sounds like a punitive action that is akin to amputating an infected limb in preference to paying for the necessary medical treatement.