Patience!

A problem familiar to anyone involved in learning Pirkei Avot today is that of coming up with a translation that both does justice to the original text and makes it relevant to contemporary readers.  This problem is particularly troublesome with abstract nouns that describe human qualities.

“Patience” is a good example. There is no doubt that the sages of the Mishnah valued patience in their time just as highly, if not more so, than we do today. However, there is no word in the vocabulary of the Tanach, the Mishnah or Midrash that appears to correspond precisely with that value as we understand it today. The use of word סבלנות (savlanut) in Ivrit today when referring to patience is a modern usage; its etymology carries overtones of putting up with a load rather than with biding one’s time while one seeks or awaits a hoped-for outcome.   

Does patience feature in Pirkei Avot among the qualities a Jew should seek to acquire and practise? Writing in Eternal Ethics from Sinai, Rabbi Yaakov Hillel discusses the requirement that judges be “deliberate in judgment” (Avot 1:1) and adds:

“There is another element to being deliberate in judgment. Our Sages tell us that patience is one of the forty-eight means through which Torah is acquired [Avot 6:6]. Patience in Torah study means allowing every topic the time and unrushed, in-depth learning required for full comprehension”.

This suggests that patience is part of being “deliberate in judgment”. But where in Avot 6:6 does patience appear? A survey of popular English translations of Avot 6:6 suggests that, in two of the most popular of them (ArtScroll and Chabad.org), patience is not listed among the 48 elements of Torah acquisition at all.

Among those translations in which patience is listed, Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks and Paltiel Birnbaum both use “patience” as a translation of אֶֽרֶךְ אַפַּֽיִם (erech apayim), although this term is more commonly translated as “slow to anger”. These translators are consistent within Avot in so far as they use the same translation in Avot 5:2 and 5:3 to describe God’s attitude towards two sequences of sinful generations, but both translate the same term as “slow to anger” when used elsewhere in their prayerbooks (at Shemot 34:6-7).

Two non-Jewish scholars (Herbert Danby and R. Travis Herford) translate erech apayim as “long suffering”. This actually supports the “erech apayim is patience” theory because the word “suffering” has itself changed meaning. In the 19^th and early 20^th century it was common for “suffer” to bear the meaning of “allow” or “tolerate”. It is this nuance that may have led Irving M. Bunim (Ethics from Sinai, vol 3) to render the term “long-suffering patience”.

So far we have seen that the virtue of patience may be a subset of being deliberate in judgment or as an alternative rendering of “slow to anger”. But might Avot have more to say on the subject?

There is a Baraita at 6:1 which lists 29 elements that pertain to a sincere and committed Torah scholar. One of these is that the scholar should be erech ru’ach (literally “long-spirited”). How do we render “long-spirited” into English today? While there is no actual consensus, one gets the impression that “patient” is the most popular option: Rabbi Sacks, Paltiel Birnbaum, Chabad.org and some ArtScroll publications offer “patient” (others prefer “long suffering”). This was not however the way earlier commentators understood the term: both Rabbenu Yonah and the commentary attributed to Rashi take erech ru’ach to be a synonym for erech apayim and warn of the danger of losing one’s temper, while the text of Avot on which the Maharal based his Derech Chaim seems to have read erech apayim and not erech ru’ach. The Abarbanel (Nachalat Avot) treats the term as being part of the overall concept of modesty and humility.

It seems to me that Avot, like much of the Mishnah, often speaks in terms of actual instances rather than general principles. Thus at Avot 5:9 we learn of the seven attributes of the chacham, the wise person, whom we contrast with the golem, someone whose behaviour remains unpolished.  Two of the seven attributes offer practical examples of (im)patience: a person should not interrupt others while they are speaking and should not answer questions off the cuff but should think before answering. From this wise counsel we can begin to construct a principle that one should be patient. Indeed, Rabbi Menachem Mordechai Frankel-Teumim appears to be edging towards something like this in his Be’er Ha’Avot when, commenting on erech ru’ach in Avot 6:1, the two examples he brings are those of Avot 5:9: not interrupting someone while they are asking you a question and not rushing to give an answer.

So, to summarise, “patience” definitely seems to be lurking within the body of Avot. But to work out exactly where is a task that takes a fair bit of … patience.

But learning isn't quite everything

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But maybe this Baraita is teaching more than that.

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

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

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

 

A "fitting" application of a prudent mishnah

Earlier this month, concerned about the consequences of merrymakers overdoing things in their Purim celebrations, I wrote:

At Avot 2:13 Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel describes the "good path" as that taken by the person who foresees the consequences of his or her actions.

This observation is not aimed solely at people who are more fun to deal with when they are sober. It is of general application, including those that have nothing to do with the niceties of religious practice.

A couple of days ago I visited one of our local general stores. Once upon a time it was quite shabby and poorly lit, but shortly before Covid it received a welcome and somewhat overdue internal overhaul. Old wooden shelving was replaced by smart new display units on which the goods on sale were piled floor-to-ceiling. Like many stores of its kind, this one had narrow aisles that particularly favoured customers who were slender and unencumbered by buggies.

When I got to the store, I spotted that it had taken delivery of a number of smart heavy duty flat-pack display units for some of its better-selling products. Staff members had taken a few of them inside the store and immediately began to assemble them. Once they had done so, the horrible truth emerged: they were of no use since there was nowhere to put any of them without blocking the aisles to the point of impassability. Since they were large and bulky, manoeuvring them down the aisles towards the exit was tricky, especially on account of their large size.

Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel would have been happy to offer his advice here, I’m sure. A moment’s thought would have revealed how prudent it would have been to work out first where the display units might go and then to measure them up to see if they would fit. Time and effort would have been spared and several tempers would have remained considerably cooler.  

Is the devil really in the detail?

“The devil’s in the detail” has become a popular and oft-quoted way of indicating that (per Wikipedia) "something may seem simple, but in fact the details are complicated and likely to cause problems". 

For Jews who attend synagogue this Shabbat, the Torah reading appears to be little other than a double dose of detail.  From Exodus 35:4 to 40:33 we read of the manufacture of the components of the Tabernacle and its accoutrements, of the materials used for those purposes and of their weight and dimensions. The message is clear: every detail is of crucial importance and all materials must be accounted for. This is the message that we are to internalise and carry with us in all our dealings with God.

What does Pirkei Avot have to say about this? On one level, Rabbi Akiva
teaches (3:19) הַכֹּל לְפִי רוֹב הַמַּעֲשֶׂה (“…everything is an accordance with the generality of action”) that our assessment of events, and of our own conduct, is ultimately not focused on minutiae but on a wider perspective. On the other hand, the importance of what we may regard as small details is recognised too. Thus even the smallest of mitzvot are regarded as being of great value (4:2) and the loss of just one item of Torah learning is described as being akin to spiritual suicide (3:10). We are also taught that we should not think lightly of any material item, since there is nothing in the world that does not have its place, that is to say, its use or function (4:3).

We can see from this that, in our daily lives, we must bifurcate our view. We should recognise the potential significance of even the smallest and most apparently trivial detail while retaining a sense of proportion and not letting go of the bigger picture.

Keeping the details and the big issues simultaneously in our sights is a challenge, but this is part of the challenge of Avot itself. How we respond to others is a matter of middot, of measuring our response. As parents, employers or colleagues, there are times when we sense that it is important to overlook even something that is of major importance but that, on other occasions, we should take a firm line when even a small issue erupts. We may not always get the balance right, but Avot at least gives us some guidance as to how we might just do so.

 Postscript: If the devil is in the detail, what happened to God?

It is only since the 1960s that “the devil’s in the detail” has become the prevalent version of this saying. Earlier versions refer not to the devil but to God. A French version, "Le bon Dieu est dans le détail" ("the good God is in the detail") is generally attributed to the nineteenth century novelist Gustave Flaubert, while a German version, “Der liebe Gott steckt im Detail”, has been in circulation since the 1920s.

How, or why, did the devil displace God? I doubt that this shift was caused by post-War anti-God sentiment or, to opposite effect, by a reluctance to make any allusion to the Deity that was not motivated by awe or deep respect. More likely, I feel, is the widely-shared sentiment that details are a nuisance and that their presence in great quantity obscures the bigger picture. As such, they should be attributed to the mischievous machinations of a malign figure, this being designated “the devil”.

Body, soul and a torn-up prayer

In Gemara Berachot (5b) we learn a principle from Abba Binyamin that had obvious practical relevance in times when places of prayer were located outside areas of Jewish residence and there were neither street lights nor police patrols:

When two people enter [a synagogue] to pray, and one of them finishes his prayer first and does not wait for the other but leaves, his prayer is torn up in his face.

Since I am usually one of the last to finish my communal prayers, this teaching means a lot to me. I can imagine a person struggling to keep his mind on his prayer while resisting the constant urge to speed up and make sure he has someone else to walk home with, mindful of the possible dangers of walking home alone.

The Kerem Chemed of Rabbi Yehudah Rabinovitz brings an entirely different explanation of this Gemara, which he heard from Rabbi Yitzchak Yaakov Weiss ztz”l.

Abba Binyamin’s teaching is by way of allegory. The two “people” who go off to pray together are really a person’s body and soul (effectively the mind). Ideally, body and mind should be united in the act of prayer. However, sometimes one’s mind goes home first, as it were, leaving the body to carry on praying without thought or proper attention. Prayer such as this is of no great value to the person praying and may as well be torn up. There is a popular rhyming jingle that reflects this explanation: tefillah belo kavanah keguf beli neshamah (“prayer without meaning is like a body without a soul”).

So how does one avoid this danger? Once again we cite Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel’s teaching at Avot 2:18: “don’t make your prayer fixed [i.e. routine or without feeling], but rather [think about] mercy and supplication”.

Incidentally, situations in which the mind leaves one’s prayer while the body is still engaged in it crop up surprisingly often. One is at weddings, when the maariv prayer has been called for after dinner, but the band strikes up with a thumpingly loud dance number right in the middle of one’s silent meditations. Another is when an impromptu minyan gets together to pray during the half-time interval of a particularly exciting football match. One is often faced with a choice between not praying at all, waiting to pray at a later and more propitious time (if there is one), or praying with a quorum but recognizing that one faces an uphill struggle to do much more than articulate the words.

 

Don't rush to answer!

One of the seven tests of someone who is wise, in contrast with the person who simply does not know how to behave, is that of how they answer a question (Avot 5:9). The wise approach is not to answer in haste, but to pause for thought before responding.

It is not difficult to think why this might be so. A hasty answer stands a better chance of being wrong, or at least incomplete. In addition, a person who spills out an answer without stopping to think might be creating the false impression that he or she has truly mastered the subject, while the speed is actually the product of a dearth of understanding rather than a superfluity of it. Explanations of this mishnah are generally along these lines, and many commentators regard the matter as so obvious that they offer no discussion of this proposition at all.

An exception is the Tiferet Tzion of Rabbi Yitzchak Ze’ev Yadler, which considers the swift and snappy answer from the perspective of the questioner: if you ask a question and the answer comes hurtling straight back at you without a moment’s thought, might you not feel embarrassed that the answer was obvious and/or that your question was stupid or insubstantial? The need to protect the feelings of students who have to ask questions is already noted earlier in Avot (at 2:6) by Hillel, who tells us that an irritable, impatient person cannot teach.

My many years teaching undergraduate, postgraduate and professionally qualified students taught me a lot about answering questions. Below are a few personal observations. Readers may wish to add their own.

Being asked a question to which one instantly knows the answer, especially if the questioner is a good student, is immensely pleasurable. The temptation to “grandstand” and give a magnificent impromptu answer can be hard to resist, as I found for myself, particularly in my earliest years as a law teacher, when I was less confident of my own skills and sometimes needed a boost. Being able to dash off a virtuoso answer off the top of my head provided this buzz, though some of these answers did require “qualification” or “further explanation” in order to give them cogency.

A swift response can be an over-response. When I have been asked variations of the same question by students over a period of years, I have sometimes had an answer that was “ready to roll” but which, becoming gradually wider and fuller in its substance, required thought from me if it was not also to answer points that the student in front of me was not actually asking.

An answer must fit the requirements of the questioner. In my own student days, my questions were sometimes answered by a format such as “I can tell you the right answer, but I can’t tell you precisely why”, usually followed by the suggestion that I go to the library and read up the reasons for myself. I used to find this really annoying. A student cannot quote an unreferenced and unsupported opinion of his professor in an examination and expect to get away with it. If the teacher concerned couldn’t tell me the reason, I didn’t care what his answer was and whether it was right or not.

The question that is asked may not be the question for which the questioner wants the answer. It is not uncommon for students of any subject to be quite inexpert in phrasing their questions. An attentive teacher, listening carefully to the question, may be able to discern this and check with the questioner before setting out to answer it.

For Heaven's sake! Forget fun, let's just talk of doing things well

Last month, in “For Heaven’s Sake! We’re just having fun”, we discussed the scope of Rabbi Yose HaKohen’s seemingly stern injunction at Avot 2:17 (“…And let all your deeds be for the sake of Heaven”). How literally should it be understood? And how might we construe it today? Does anything that is not Torah study or the performance of a mitzvah be for the sake of Heaven? And can we never have any fun?

Yesterday, by chance I came across an old, undated blogpost by Rabbi Berel Wein on this very topic. In it he wrote:

Judaism places great emphasis on the seemingly small and mundane activities of life. Everything in life is included in the category called “the work of Heaven.” As a consequence of this, it is obvious that everything and everyone has importance and requires attention and diligence…

Rabbi Yisrael Salanter explained that the great righteousness and holiness of Chanoch lay in the fact that the Talmud records for us that he was a shoemaker and that with every stitch that he made while creating shoes “he sang God’s praises”. [He] explained that the Talmud does not mean that he recited psalms or hymns of praise to God while he made shoes. It means that he made good shoes, that every stitch was perfect, that he gave his customers excellent quality for their money. He said someone who does that sings God’s praises for, by so doing, he advances the work of Heaven on this earth.

What people think as being their business or profession or work and not more than that is really the work of Heaven, if they so will it to be. Therefore care and quality must be exercised in all areas of our life—in our personal behavior and psychological outlook, in our homes and families and in our dealings with the outside world. Only this attitude of care and concern, quality and wise considerations, can help us truly advance the work of Heaven.

The message, in summary, is that one’s action is “for the sake of Heaven” if they are done to the best of one’s abilities, in a conscientious way, and if those actions reflect well on the person who does them. By giving others good value for their money, we too can be acting “for the sake of Heaven”.

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You can access “For Heaven’s Sake! We’re just having fun” on the Avot Today blog here and on Facebook here
Rabbi Wein’s blogpost, “The work of Heaven” can be accessed here.

Purim: handle with care!

This week marks the festival of Purim, which has the potential to be a time of great joy and happiness, not to mention a sort of "final fling" before families throughout the Jewish world knuckle down to a month of preparation for Pesach.

A perennial Purim discussion point relates to the age-old question: "should I get drunk?" According to whom one asks, drunkenness is permitted, prohibited or obligatory. Among those who permit or require it, the degree of inebriation may be minimal, moderate or maximal. Then those who employ the test of confusing blessing Haman with cursing Mordechai have different yardsticks by which to measure this particular mental state.

Pirkei Avot gives no specific guidance as to how one conducts oneself on Purim and does not of itself advocate abstinence, moderation or abandoning oneself totally to the deep and meaningful spiritual experience that some of us seek. That is not to say that it has no general guidance that should be borne in mind before choosing to get drunk.

There is one particular piece of guidance from Avot that seems apposite to me here. At Avot 2:13 Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel describes the "good path" as that taken by the person who foresees the consequences of his or her actions.

The problem with drunkenness is that one's ability to foresee the consequences of one's conduct--and also one's ability to act responsibly where one can do so--seems to diminish proportionately to the amount of alcohol consumed. One of the foreseeable consequences of getting totally drunk on Purim is that someone has to clean up the mess afterwards. Given the effects of a heavy hangover, the person doing that cleaning up is often enough someone else -- and it is not pleasant. Shared spaces such as bathrooms and staircases can be especially sordid, as can hard-to-clean items such as carpets and bedding.

We live in a real world in which, whatever any of us thinks or says, some people will get drunk on Purim. Some will have had a wonderful time in doing so and will look forward to repeating the process next year; some may have had a spiritually elevating "out-of-brain" experience. Others, waking up with a splitting headache and a dry tongue, may croak "never again!"

My message to all of you is this: Purim same'ach! Have a wonderful time but, before you do, please give a thought for others who may be adversely affected by what you do. Think how strange or frightening you may appear to small children. Bear in mind that you share the pavements and the roads with other users. And do try to make sure that your fun and enjoyment are not at the expense of others.

Judging the Chofetz Chaim favourably

The name of Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan (the ‘Chofetz Chaim’) has cropped up frequently in Avot Today, since so much of his writing is directly or indirectly relevant to Pirkei Avot. Although he never wrote a formal commentary on the tractate, several compilations of Avot-relevant comments and explanations which appeared in his other works were published after his death* and it is obvious from his focus on correct behaviour and good middot that Avot played an important part in his life.

One of the most frequently-cited principles in Avot is the teaching of Yehoshua ben Perachya (Avot 1:6) that we should judge other people meritoriously. This is widely understood as meaning that, where it is possible to judge a person’s actions favourably or otherwise, we should give them the benefit of any doubt.

In his book Shemirot HaLashon, the Chofetz Chaim (at the beginning of Sha’ar HaTevunah, ch.4) cites and then discusses the significance of the principle that one should judge others in relation to the need to guard carefully against improper speech. Remarkably, for anyone familiar with Pirkei Avot, he makes no reference at all to the mishnah of Yehoshua ben Perachya. Rather, he bases the principle on a gemara (Shevuot 30a) which cites a Torah mitzvah: “In justice you shall judge your fellow” (Leviticus 19:15), commenting that this is one of the mitzvot for which a person is rewarded in this world but for which the ‘capital’ of his reward remains intact in the World to Come (Shabbat 127a).

In the following chapter, the Chofetz Chaim explains that the commandment to judge others justly is itself a subset of a wider mitzvah: “love your fellow like yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). But in this chapter too there is no mention of the mishnah in Avot.

At first glance it seems astonishing that the Chofetz Chaim should overlook this mishnah and fail to name-check the Tanna in whose name it is taught. Surely he must have known of it! How could he have relegated it from his masterly compendium of speech-related laws and best practices?

I believe that there is an answer to this question that both explains and vindicates the decision of the Chofetz Chaim to omit this mishnah. When writing in his eponymous sefer about the principles that govern permitted speech, he modestly mentions that his is not the first work to address the evils of lashon hara.  Much the same ground, he recognises, was covered by Rabbenu Yonah in his Sha’are Teshuvah. There is however a difference between these works. The account of the need to guard one’s speech in Sha’are Teshuvah was couched in terms of middot—good and proper standards of behaviour—while the objective of the Chofetz Chaim was to frame the same principles as mitzvot. Bearing in mind the comment of the Bartenura on Avot 1:1 that the entire tractate, unlike the rest of the Mishnah, consists of middot and mussar, it is easy to dismiss Avot as merely guidance, devoid of the force of law, the decision of the Chofetz Chaim to describe judging others favourably as a Torah mitzvah is perfectly reasonable.

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·         See eg Shmuel Charlap,  Chofetz Chaim al Masechet Avot, Jerusalem 1962; Rabbi David Zaretzky, Masechet Avot im Pirushei HaChofetz Chaim, Jerusalem 1974 (translated into English as The Hafetz Hayyim on Pirkey Avoth, Feldheim Publishers, Jerusalem 1975).

What the Dickens! Let's treat our children with respect

Readers of the stories of Charles Dickens will be instantly aware of his depictions of schools and institutions for orphaned children in 19^th century England. They are places of unremitting misery and degradation, where education of the young and the provision of moral guidance are of little or no significance. Children are processed and commoditized, their only worth being in the fees which are paid for their lessons and upkeep. His representation of Dotheboys Hall, run by the loathsome Wackford Squeers, makes uncomfortable reading for anyone attempting Nicholas Nickleby, as does the plight of the hungry children in the workhouse in Oliver Twist.

Pirkei Avot makes it plain that the relationship between child and teacher should be predicated on mutual respect. As Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua teaches (Avot 4:15):

The dignity of your student should be as precious to you as your own; the dignity of your colleague [should be to you] as your awe of your teacher; and your awe of your teacher [should be to you] as your awe of Heaven.

Human nature being what it is, Jewish education spans both institutions that apply this guidance at all levels and those which do not.  I would dearly like to believe that there are no longer any Jewish schools and chadarim in which children are struck by their teachers—whether for misbehaviour or for failing to learn to the required standard—and that teachers and pupils treat each other with an appropriate degree of respect. Sadly this is not the case, particularly with regard to private and informal institutions that exist below the level of public scrutiny.  For my part, I fail to see how hitting or abusing a child improves comprehension or instils a love of Torah and Jewish values. Writing two hundred years ago the Pele Yo’etz said much the same: if hitting children ever did work in earlier generations, it was no longer efficacious in his time.

Via a Google Alert I’ve just discovered that Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua’s mishnah has been put to music and turned into a video clip by Shea and Avrumi Berko. According to COLLive:

These inspiring words of the Mishnah in Pirkei Avos … 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.

Even if you are not an ardent admirer of simchah music and turn up at weddings equipped with three sets of earplugs, you can at least take comfort that one of the easiest ways to internalise a message is to turn it into an earworm. Let’s hope our teachers take the hint!

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

In case you missed them, here's a list of items posted to the Avot Today Facebook Group in FEBRUARY 2023: 

27 February 2023: Setting an example -- for good or otherwise. We revisit the position of politicians, who are uniquely equipped to influence us. How does their conduct measure up against Avot?

Friday 24 February 2023: It's not all in the mind... We have thoughts, we speak and we do things. Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi's mishnah at Avot 2:1 may be referring to God's perception of how we do these things.

Wednesday 22 February 2023: For Heaven's sake! We're just having fun. Is there a place for leisure activities in the serious upper reaches of Jewish commitment? 

Monday 20 February: If not now, when? A time for focus, a time for family. Does Hillel's famous teaching shed light on when young Torah scholars should get married?

Friday 17 February 2023: Learning from the lives of Torah sages: Avot 4:1 speaks of how the person who is wise is one who learns from everyone. But do we need caution when learning from rabbinical biographies?

Tuesday 14 February 2023: So do we praise poverty or not? In The Dignity of Difference Rabbi Lord Sacks writes: "Throughout its history, Judaism resisted any attempt to romanticize, rationalize or anaesthetize the pain of hunger, starvation, or need".  Does this accord with the teachings in Pirkei Avot and beyond?

Sunday 12 February 2023: Coming adrift in a sea of prayer: Praying while under the influence of a powerful pain-killer provides the context for a discussion of Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel's advice not to make one's prayer "fixed". 

Sunday 5 February 2023: Of Rabbis and Realities: two mishnayot in Avot tell us to make a rav, a teacher for ourselves. What do these teachings mean for the teachers we choose?

Friday 3 February 2023: Beshalach, be Grateful: In a Torah reading where God bestows so much kindness upon the enslaved nation that He has just emancipated, it's curious that no-one seems to say "thank you" for His efforts.

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Avot Today blogposts for January 2023
Avot Today blogposts for December 2022
Avot Today blogposts for November 2022
Avot Today blogposts for October 2022
Avot Today blogposts for September 2022
Avot Today blogposts for August 2022

Setting an example -- for good or otherwise

Avot Today is non-political, for the very good reason that Pirkei Avot is directed at how we humans should behave. It is not a political manifesto. This does not however mean that we do not discuss politicians. The very nature of their profession demands that they be in the public eye and that their words and thoughts receive a high level of publicity. What’s more, since the relationship between politicians and the general public is—or should be—founded on trust, we often demand to hear from them even when they may be reluctant to speak to us. Finally, politicians set an example: their high media profile provides a platform for them to project themselves, deliberately or otherwise, as role models whose words and actions may be copied by others.

In July 2022, Avot Today posed some questions about the sort of behaviour we might expect of politicians (see “Thinking better of politicians: can it be done?” on Facebook and on the Avot Today blog). We return to it now, following a report posted yesterday on the Jerusalem Post website headed: “Almog Cohen apologizes for ‘disrespectful’ insults hurled at fellow MKs” (here).

The article details the words spoken and the reception which they received. Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus (Avot 2:15) teaches that the kavod of one’s chaver (difficult to translate: “the respect to which to one’s fellow human is entitled”) should be as dear to us as the respect to which we are entitled. This suggests a test of reciprocity. Before saying anything to another person, we should stop and think how we might feel if the same words were spoken back to us. If we would feel hurt, insulted or abused, that should set of an alarm bell in our minds that tells us not to say those words.

Politicians will tell us, correctly, that parliamentary debates are often conducted in an atmosphere of anger or frustration in which it is easy to lose one’s temper. They will equally correctly observe that, in the heat of debate, it is easy to say things that are offensive and which one may later regret having said. But Avot does not regard any of this as an excuse. Offensive behaviour towards others and the loss of one’s self-control in a fit of fury are no more permissible in the Knesset (or any other parliament) than they are in family discussions, in traffic jams, in the shops or in hospitals.  In the teaching of Rabbi Eliezer quoted above, we are warned not to let ourselves be easily angered. Later, at 5:14, Avot deems a person who is quick to anger and slow to calm down as being a rasha, evil.  The definition of someone who is strong is that of the person who can exercise self-control (4:1). From this we might reasonably include that a parliament full of people who insult others and lose their temper is a parliament of the weak and the wicked.

Having insulted and disrespected others, the proper course is to apologise. While this is not explicitly stipulated in Pirkei Avot, it is part and parcel of Rabbi Eliezer’s advice to treat the kavod of others as being as dear to us as our own. Just as insulting political opponents does not refute their arguments, so too does apologizing for insulting them not constitute an acceptance or validation of their arguments. In an ideal world, an apology to the person one has offended will be accompanied by teshuvah, genuine repentance for what one has said or done. Since teshuvah is a matter between the offender and God, we cannot know if it is efficacious or not. However, an important ingredient of teshuvah is the commitment of the penitent person not to do the same thing again: since so much of what politicians say and do is open to the public, it is often easy to spot the activities of a habitual reoffender.

Politicians are no more or less human than the rest of us, and we cannot say with confidence that we would behave any better than those we have elected, had we been in the same place, since we are not subject to the same pressures (see Hillel at Avot 2:5).  Even so, we are entitled to expect an acceptable level of conduct from them and we are entitled to express our disappointment and our disapproval when they do not. Two moral qualities in particular, identified by Avot, often appear to be in short supply among our elected representatives. One is that of acknowledging the truth (Avot 5:9); the other is that of being grateful to receive criticism (Avot 6:6). I for one look forward to the day these deficiencies are remedied.

It's not all in the mind...

A popular analytical tool for the study of human conduct is the tripartite categorisation of our output into (i) the things we think, (ii) the things that we not only think but say out loud and (iii) the things we do. 

We all have thoughts, whether we want to or not, and as the Rambam noted in his Shemonah Perakim, there is no effective way to stop a thought entering our heads. But, once a thought has entered our heads, it’s up to us to decide what to do about it. We can dwell upon it, particularly if it is a welcome or comforting thought. We can pend it until we are able to give it enough time to focus on it properly. We can also do our best to kick it into the long grass and hope never to think it again. Most of our thoughts are not shared with our fellow humans. We keep them to ourselves.

Speech is another matter. While many of us talk to ourselves for one reason or another, it is more frequently employed as a means of communication with others. We can be quite undiscriminating in our choice of audience: apart from other humans we address our comments to pets, plants, traffic lights—and, for those who pray, to God.

Then there are our actions, and these usually provide a closer and more accurate measure than thought or speech of what a person is. One can have thoughts and never share them, or speak words and not mean them. However, our actions are the tell-tale sign of what we really are. Proverbs like “actions speak louder than words” and mishnayot in Avot like 1:17 (“It’s not the learning that is the main thing but the doing”), 3:12 (wisdom only endures if it is exceeded by actions) and 3:22 (ditto) reflect this fact.

At Avot 2:1, Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi teaches:

Focus on three things, and you will not come to the grip of sin: know what is above from you: (i) a seeing eye, (ii) a hearing ear, and (iii) all your deeds are written in a book.

In other words, God perceives what you think, say and do—whether anyone else does so or not. Just remember this before you are about to speak, act or even decide to wallow in an inappropriate thought, and you should be able to negotiate the problems and pitfalls of life on earth and yet emerge with credit.

In his Kerem Chemed commentary on Pirkei Avot, Rabbi Yehudah Rabinovitz subjects this mishnah to the tripartite division of thoughts, words and deeds. The “seeing eye” perceives one’s thoughts; the “hearing ear” hears one’s words and the book is quite explicitly the place where one’s deeds are recorded.

But what does the “seeing eye” have to do with thoughts? The author brings a verse from the first Book of Samuel: “Man sees what his eyes behold, but God sees into the heart” (2 Shmuel 16:7). Today it is even more apparent that our thoughts are no longer safe and secret within our brains, since the current state of artificial intelligence (AI) has already brought us close to mind-reading by computers. See eg “New computer can read your mind and turn what you're thinking of into images” (here), “This mind-reading AI can see what you're thinking - and draw a picture of it” (here) and “Mind-reading tech is here (and more useful than you think!)” (here). If a mere machine can do such things, we need hardly wonder that an omnipotent, omniscient creator of the universe can do it better?

For Heaven's sake! We're just having fun

Rabbi Yose HaKohen teaches (Avot 2:17):

(i) Let the property of your fellow be as precious to you as your own. (ii) Apply yourself to the study of Torah, for it is not an inheritance for you. (iii) And let all your deeds be for the sake of Heaven.

Often a teaching in Avot can be conveniently understood from its context, and many mishnayot that are split into three parts can be taken to relate to each other. This is not the case here, where “Let all your deeds be for the sake of Heaven” is not obviously connected to the first two teachings. But what do these words mean?

In his Chesed La’Alafim, at 231:3, Rabbi Eliezer Papo (the ‘Pele Yo’etz’) cites Rabbi Yose’s mishnah as support for the proposition that even ordinary everyday activities such as eating, drinking, sleeping and indeed all one’s bodily needs should be performed as a means of serving one’s Creator. The moment a person does an action—no matter how beneficial or meritorious—with his or her own benefit in mind, it is disqualified from being regarded as “for the sake of Heaven”. Rather, it is a sign of self-love. It is scarcely necessary to mention that the performance of any mitzvah in the hope or expectation of a reward fails the “sake of Heaven” test (Avot 1:3).

The situation for those whose actions result from self-interest, personal gain or even habit is not as bleak as it first appears.  In the case of Torah learning and doing mitzvot, the Pele Yo’etz reassures readers that at any rate a person should do these things even if it is not for Heaven’s sake because ultimately he or she will end up doing them for the right reason (citing Kalah Rabati 5:1).

This still leaves actions that are neither Torah learning nor mitzvot. Do they really all have to be “for the sake of Heaven”? Taking an occasional break from one’s learning in order to freshen up one’s mind has long been accepted as not only permissible but desirable since it helps to preserve one’s learning. But what about tiyulim, holidays, leisure activities? The Pele Yoe’tz expressly disapproves of such frivolities: while it may be necessary for a person to take a walk in the open air in order to lift his spirits and clear his head, the moment this objective is achieved he should head straight back to the Beit Midrash and resume his Torah learning.

Be that as it may, the fact remains that a great deal of our time today is spent on activities that are neither Torah nor mitzvot. We live in an age in which the availability of food, job security and the constant flow of new and improved domestic appliances has left us with more leisure time than the Tannaim could ever have imagined.  Most of us do not spend all our free time learning Torah and doing good deeds. Not just rank-and-file Jews but rabbis and communal leaders freely admit to taking holidays, attending concerts, watching sports events and even “chilling out”. We do not condemn them, but what would Rabbi Yose say to them? And how would they reply to him? Can these leisure activities be compliant with the principle that “all your deeds be for the sake of Heaven”? Are we just having fun, forgetting the observation of Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski (Visions of the Fathers) that “fun” is not a concept found in Tanach?

There are many possible responses to the challenge as to how we spend our time. For example:

·         Rabbi Yose’s teaching is not intended to be taken literally. Rather, it is a gentle exhortation to us to do things that are good and avoid things that are bad or harmful, things that would bring Heaven’s reputation into disrepute.

·         Rabbi Yose’s teaching only applies to deeds that can be of benefit the person who performs them, even though they may be mitzvot or good deeds, for example assiduously visiting an invalid (a mitzvah) who is wealthy and has no heirs (an ulterior motive based on self-interest).

·         Rabbi Yose is only encouraging us to question our own conduct, asking ourselves “am I doing this for Heaven’s sake?”, because it is a good way of ensuring that we fulfil the verse from Psalms: “I have placed God before me always …” (Tehillim 16:8).

·         Elsewhere in Avot, at 4:7, Rabbi Tzadok warns us not to use Torah as a crown in order to aggrandise ourselves or as a spade to dig with. Rabbi Yose’s words here merely seek to emphasise the same point.

·         God wants us to enjoy our life on Earth to the greatest extent possible, so long as we exercise our freedom of choice so as to keep our conduct lawful and respectable. Rabbi Yose’s teaching is designed to remind us that, even where our actions are pleasure-seeking, we do them in order the better to appreciate God’s beneficence in placing us in this world.

None of these responses really seems totally persuasive. Ultimately, it appears, we have become used to a lower level of commitment to God and to the sake of Heaven than our forefathers possessed. The Chesed La’Alafim, at 231:4, appears to prefer the first of the responses listed above, citing the baraita at the end of the sixth perek Avot (6:11) that everything God created in His world He created for His kavod—His honour or respect. From this the Pele Yo’etz understands that, before contemplating any action, be it going on a shopping expedition, attending a football game or doing a spot of sun-bathing, we should ask ourselves the following question: “does this damage God’s standing in the world?”  If the answer is “yes”, we shouldn’t do it.

That was 200 or so years ago. But what, then, should be the proper response of the committed Jew today to the words of Rabbi Yose? Ae they a threat, a challenge or an opportunity for self-improvement? Comments, please!

If not now, when? A time for focus, a time for family

Hillel’s neat apothegm, “If I am not for me, who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?” (Avot 1:14) is the subject of many explanations, ranging from the prosaic to the profound. Given the fact that we have so many details of Hillel’s life and times, as well as so many other sayings of his, it is almost too easy to find a real-life context to which this famous saying applies. There are also many context-free explanations, of which I have just came across the following one, brought in the Kerem Chemed of Rabbi Yehudah Rabinovitz in the name of the Chatam Sofer.

The words that open this mishnah—“If I am not for me, who will be for me?”—are spoken by the bachelor who, free of family responsibilities, can pursue his interests without hindrance. Learning Torah, he can push himself to the limit, burn the midnight oil when it suits him, bury himself the Gemara and generally focus fully on the object of his studies. There is no millstone round his neck; no demands are made upon him except those he imposes on himself.

The second part of the mishnah—“And if I am only for myself, what am I?”—is spoken by the married man who also pursues Torah learning. The Torah teaches: “it is not good for man to be alone” (Bereshit 2:18), and a man without a wife is man without Torah, without good and without blessing. And a good wife will help him find time for Torah learning despite his domestic responsibilities.

The final part of the mishnah--“And if not now, when?”—is recited by the bachelor and the married man together. Why, because if the bachelor were to say “if I am only for myself, what am I?”, or the married man were to say “If I am not for me, who will be for me?”, neither would have the right attitude towards the use they should immediately be making of their time.it

While the Chatam Sofer’s words are directed to students of Torah, it seems to me that they are clearly of wider application. In any sphere of activity, the time for focusing on it to the exclusion of all else, like the time for taking risks, is when a person does so at his or her own expense and not at the expense of dependants and loved ones. This is not always possible, particularly where changes in the employment market require the acquisition of complex and hard-to-learn skills, but equally one should avoid change for change’s sake if it jeopardises family security.