Talmudic Images
Adin Steinsaltz
(Even-Israel)
Maggid Books
Talmudic Images
Maggid edition, 2010
Maggid Books
An imprint of Koren Publishers Jerusalem Ltd.
POB 8531, New Milford, CT 06776-8531, USA
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© Adin Steinsaltz 1997
Published in cooperation w ith The Shefa Foundation
The right of Adin Steinsaltz to be identified as the author of this
w ork has been asserted by him in accordance w ith the Copyright,
Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
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ISBN 978 159264 295 3, hardcover
A CIP catalogue record for this title is
available from the British Library
Printed and bound in the United States
This book is dedicated to my parents, whose
love, support, encouragement and attention
provided a solid foundation for my brother
and me. Their achievements and their
integrity – along with the nurturing home
they created – have been a lifelong
inspiration to me.
So too is this book dedicated to my wife. I
could not have dreamt of a more special
person with whom to share the.rest of my
life.
It is also dedicated to the memory of my
father's parents and two brothers, all of
whom perished in the Holocaust.
We will never know what contributions they –
or the eleven million other human beings
whose lives were cut so short – may have
made to our world.
Most of all, this book is dedicated to you, the
reader.
It is in your hands that the wisdom of Adin
Steinsaltz’s Insights – and the beauty and
brilliance of the Talmud itself – can find some
meaningful application.
I am thankful for the many blessings and
opportunities which I have been given. I am
particularly grateful for the experience my
wife and I have had in getting to know Rabbi
Steinsaltz, and for the opportunity we have
had to introduce him to others. For that I
must thank Toby and Itzhak Perlman, who
first introduced me to the Rabbi, and the
staff of the Aleph Society.
Daniel H. Adler
Contents
Editor’s Note ix
Introduction xi
Chapter one
Hillel the Elder 1
Chapter two
Shammai the Elder 9
Chapter three
Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai 17
Chapter four
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ĥanania 27
Chapter five
Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrkanus 35
Chapter six
Elisha ben Avuya 43
Chapter seven
Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi (“Rebbi”) 51
Chapter eight
Rav 59
Chapter nine
Shmuel 65
Chapter ten
Rabbi Yoĥanan 71
Chapter eleven
Resh Lakish 79
Chapter twelve
Abaye 85
Chapter thirteen
Rav Ashi 93
Appendices 99
Glossary 101
Annotated Bibliography 109
A Historical Framework 113
Index 117
Editor’s Note
This book describes a world very distant from us,
spiritually as well as historically. We therefore
appended a glossary to which the reader may refer
for explanation of italicized words. In addition, we
appended an annotated bibliography of all the
books mentioned in this volume, and an historical
chart.
In the footnotes, quotes from the Babylonian
Talmud are preceded by the name of the Tractate
in italics, followed by the page number. The
names of all other sources are cited fully.
Translations of the Babylonian Talmud quotations
are based on the Soncino Talmud, except for those
for which a Steinsaltz translation was available.
The foreword and chapters 1–6 were
translated by Yehudit Keshet; chapter 7, by Ditsa
Shabtai, who also edited the translation; and
chapters 8–13, by Faigie Tropper. Thanks to Rabbi
Yehonatan Eliav, Rabbi Gershon Kitsis, and
Yechezkel Anis for their ongoing and indispensable
assistance. Special thanks to Margy-Ruth Davis for
her insightful comments and, as always, her help.
Introduction
The heroes of the Oral Torah are heroes of a
special kind. Their stories are not tales of war and
battles, and their chronicles are devoid of
impressive events. These heroes are heroes of the
spirit, whose acts of heroism lie in their thoughts
and their words. The palaces and fortresses they
established are invisible to the eye.
The Talmudic sages themselves declared that
it is inappropriate to erect mausoleums on the
graves of scholars, since their teachings are their
monuments. What is more, the books created by
these scholars: the Mishna and the Talmud, the
Tosefta, Midrash Halakha, and Midrash Aggada are
not intended, by their nature, to tell the history of
individual scholars. Their main concern is with
ideas and thoughts, discussions, and conversations
of the sages of Israel.
Thus, not only do these texts tell us almost
nothing about the heroes of the period, but even
general historical events are mentioned only in
passing. In addition, there is a basic tendency in
the literature of the Oral Torah to leave things in a
sort of “eternal present,” in which the ideas are the
permanent element, while the chronology of time
and generations is of only secondary significance.
This is not because the sages considered
knowledge of the history of the nation and its
scholars unimportant. Rather, this kind of
information was not written or organized. Insofar
as it was recorded at all, it remained in the private
archives of the great yeshivot. Only very few of
these texts have survived. It is therefore not
surprising that only in recent times has the history
of the sages of the Mishna and Talmud been
collected from the material scattered throughout
the literature of the Oral Torah. In spite of the
great efforts invested by academics and scholars,
the unknown exceeds the revealed.
Introduction
Nevertheless, the literature of the Oral Torah,
even in its most technical parts, is neither dry nor
impersonal. The personalities of the different sages
and their spiritual characters (and sometimes even
private and trivial events in their lives) emerge
from this apparently “legalistic” material. The
special way in which this literature is edited – in
the form of debates and discussions – produces
figures which are alive and human, characters that
we can relate to, identify with, and love. The many
details found in the various sources, when put
together, reveal the personalities who produced
the Oral Torah, with all the multiplicity of types
and the differences among them.
This slim volume does not attempt to provide
a history of the sages, nor to describe their
different schools of thought. It is intended to give
a certain impression, a sketch of personalities not
only as thinkers and scholars but also as human
beings, whom we ourselves – as have others
throughout the generations – can see standing
before us today, alive.
Chapter one
Hillel the Elder
Hillel was surely one of the most versatile and
influential figures of the Second Temple period. He
was given the honorary title “The Elder” because of
his dual positions as head of the Council of Elders
and as the Nasi of the Sanhedrin. Born in
Babylonia[1] he came to the land of Israel to study
Torah. Apparently, he went back to Babylonia,
later returning to the Land of Israel. Hillel’s family
was indirectly descended from the House of
David.[2] This royal connection heightened the
special status of his sons and their descendants in
the eyes of the generations that followed. In a
certain sense, they were regarded as the
representatives of the Jewish monarchy even in
times of slavery and oppression.
Hillel himself, however, came to the Land of
Israel not as royalty, but as a pauper. Although he
had an extremely rich brother in Babylonia (Sotah
21a), he did not want to take advantage of family
wealth. Instead, he chose a life of poverty in the
Holy Land, where he was forced to earn his living
as a woodcutter[3] – an occupation which enabled
him to work for only half a day, leaving the other
half free for study. Furthermore, the batei midrash
of those days were semiprivate institutions that
charged an entrance fee, partly to exclude people
who were not serious students. So from his
already paltry wages, Hillel was required to deduct
a considerable sum to pay the gatekeeper of the
beit midrash.
We know that Hillel had acquired his basic
learning in Babylonia where he was already
regarded as a scholar. In the land of Israel he
became the pupil of the two outstanding scholars
of the time: Shemayah and Avtalyon. It seems that
they both recognized his stature, although it is
doubtful that others did. Hillel’s rise to fame and
greatness came suddenly, years later, and was the
result of a rare occurrence in which the eve of
Pesaĥ fell on Shabbat. This created a new
situation, which at that time did not have a known
halakhic solution; even the leading scholars of the
day were unable to solve the problems arising
from this special coincidence. It became clear that
Hillel was the only person who had the knowledge
and the ability to find the halakhic solution. In an
unprecedented gesture, the heads of the
Sanhedrin, of the Bnei Batira family, resigned,
appointing Hillel in their stead (Pesaĥim 66a;
Jerusalem Talmud, ibid., 6:1). For this reason the
Bnei Batira are counted among the genuinely
humble personalities in Jewish history, people who
surrendered their position and status in favor of
someone who seemed to them more fitting for the
task.[4]
Hillel’s official rise to the position of head of
the Sanhedrin was, by then, no more than formal
recognition of the fact that he was indeed the
greatest and most outstanding scholar of his
generation. However, this is never made explicit.
We know almost nothing about Hillel before his
appointment to the leadership of the Sanhedrin;
we know equally little of the other sages of those
days. It was an age in which scholars still strove to
reach a unified opinion in the beit midrash. This is
why the majority of halakhic decisions are
anonymous and simply called: “rulings of the
sages of Israel.” Dissenting opinions, like the
personalities of the individual scholars themselves,
are set aside in favor of the majority consensus.
Yet of the little that we do know about those
scholars and their contribution to halakha, it
appears that Hillel himself was the founder of, or
at least developed, a new method of study. He was
the first to systematically organize the rules of
Midrash Halakha and to use them in a consistent
way that clarified and resolved halakhic issues.
Midrash Halakha did exist before Hillel’s time, but
not in a systematic or standardized form. Hillel was
the first to articulate general rules for Midrash
Halakha which, in spite of undergoing a certain
amount of redefinition over the generations, are in
essence the basic rules of the Midrash Halakha
known to us today.
The “Seven Principles” of the Midrash
Halakha that Hillel taught the Bnei Batira (see
Tosefta Pesaĥim 7:11) are also the basis for the
Thirteen Principles of Talmudic Exposition of the
scriptures, formulated later on by Rabbi Yishmael
(introduction to Sifra).
Beyond the sphere of learning, however,
Hillel’s major impact is most clearly felt in the far-
reaching changes he introduced in the public life of
the Jewish nation. He created a special status for
the Nasi of the Sanhedrin, a status enjoyed by his
descendants for over four hundred years – one of
the longest-lived dynasties ever known in the
history of nations.
Hillel’s period, which largely parallels that of
King Herod, was not an easy one in terms of the
role and influence of Jewish leadership. At that
time, the king of Judea ceased to express the will
of the Jewish people, gradually becoming a more
or less tolerable foreign ruler. The High Priest, too,
became a mere religious functionary. Hillel shaped
a new role for the Nasi of the Sanhedrin as the
national leader, patterned on the role and status of
Moses – namely, that the Nasi, the spiritual head
of the nation, served as the preeminent figure in
almost every sphere of life. Like Moses, Hillel lived
to the great age of 120 years (Sifrei, Deuteronomy
357). Two other sages reached that age: Hillel’s
outstanding pupil Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai,
and Rabbi Akiva (Sukka 28a) – each of whom, in
his turn was, like Hillel, the central pillar of the
Jewish people. It is through them that Jewish
tradition was transmitted and reshaped, not only
for their time, but for the generations that
followed. Indeed, Hillel became such a pivotal
figure that his sons and their sons after them –
some of whom were great men in their own right
– derived their power from the fact that they were
his descendants.
Hillel was famous as a lover of humanity, and
even more for his appreciation of the uniqueness
of each person he encountered. He was known for
his ability to address each one who approached
him in a way that was most appropriate for that
person. An interesting expression of this ideal is
his attempt to summarize the Torah on “one
leg”:[5] “Do not do unto others what you would
not have them do unto you.” This negative
formulation of the Biblical passage: “Love your
neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18) expresses
most aptly the notion that each of us has unique
qualities, and therefore one must not judge others
by the same criteria that one uses to judge oneself.
The verse “You shall open your hand to him
[i.e., your poor brother] and provide him with all
that he requires, all that is lacking unto him”
(Deuteronomy 15:8) was interpreted by our sages
to mean that one who requires it [e.g., a rich man
who became poor] should be provided with “even
a horse and a carriage, even a slave to run before
him” (Ketubot 67b). It is said that Hillel took care
of such an impoverished person, who had formerly
been extremely wealthy, providing him with a
horse and carriage and a slave to run before him.
Once, when he could not find a slave to do the
job, Hillel himself ran before the poor man’s
carriage, announcing that so and so was about to
pass in the street. This story, more than
demonstrating Hillel’s humility, emphasizes his
understanding that respect and honor are as
essential for some people as food and drink are to
others. Hillel, who himself was able to manage
with very little, understood that others lived by
different standards. He, who was so unassuming
that no one could shake his composure, knew that
to enjoy peace of mind, that particular man
needed a slave to run before him and declare that
the great so-and-so was now passing in the street.
A delightful story about him in the Talmud
tells:
It once happened that two men made a bet,
saying, whoever goes and makes Hillel angry
shall receive four hundred zuz (a great sum).
One said: “I will go and incense him.” That
day was the Sabbath eve, and Hillel was
washing his head. He went, passed by the
door of his house, and called out, “Is Hillel
here, is Hillel here?” Thereupon he [Hillel] put
on a robe and went out to him, saying, “My
son, what do you need?” “I have a question to
ask,” said he. “Ask, my son,” he prompted. He
asked: “Why are the heads of the Babylonians
round?” “My son, you have asked a great
question,” replied he: “because they have no
skillful midwives.” [That man] departed,
waited a while, returned, and called out: “Is
Hillel here, is Hillel here?” [Hillel] again put on
a robe and went out to him, saying, “My son,
what do you need?” “I have a question to
ask,” said he. “Ask, my son,” he prompted. He
asked: “Why are the eyes of the Palmyrenes
blearied?” “My son, you have asked a great
question,” replied he: “because they live in
sandy places.” He departed, waited a while,
returned, and called out: “Is Hillel here, is
Hillel here?” He again put on his robe and
went out to him, saying, “My son, what do
you need?” “I have a question to ask,” said
[the man]. “Ask, my son,” [Hillel] prompted.
He asked: “Why are the feet of Africans wide?”
“My son, you have asked a great question,”
said he: “because they live in watery
marshes.” “I have many questions to ask,”
said he, “but fear that you may become
angry.” Thereupon [Hillel] robed, sat before
him and said, “Ask all the questions you have
to ask.” “Are you the Hillel who is called the
Nasi of Israel?” “Yes,” he replied. “If that is
you,” he retorted, “may there not be many like
you in Israel?” “Why, my son?” [Hillel]
queried. “Because I have lost four hundred zuz
through you,” complained he. “Be careful of
your moods,” he answered. “Hillel is worth it
that you should lose four hundred zuz and yet
another four hundred zuz through him, yet
Hillel shall not lose his temper.” (Shabbat 31a)
Hillel’s belief in the individuality of each person is
also reflected in his halakhic methodology, and to
a great extent also in that of his followers, Beit
Hillel. This is not necessarily expressed in any
clearly defined halakhic concept. Rather it underlies
the ability to be flexible on certain problems, to
distinguish not only the general principles of truth,
but also the exceptions to the rule – distortions
and the changes that often happen, or individual
eccentricities – and to deal with them.
Much is told of Hillel’s humility and
patience[6] and of the humor in his sayings and
habits. Some of his great patience derived from his
ability to be very realistic without being overly
serious. He had the capacity to see the comic and
the likable in people and in situations. The man
who came to Hillel at an inconvenient time not
only failed to upset him (and lost the bet), but also
got a series of teasing answers to his questions.
Yet, despite their sharpness, these answers are
consistent with truth, and also express an
interesting idea: racial diversity is the result not of
essential differences, but, by and large, of
circumstances and conditions. Moreover, that man
did not know that Hillel could see through people.
Hillel was surely aware of that fellow’s intention to
annoy him, and purposely caused him to lose the
bet. His righteousness and humility did not stem
from mere simplicity or innocence and were
accompanied with clear thinking and, sometimes,
humor.
The many sayings of Hillel in Pirkei Avot
(1:12–14, 2:4–7) have become, each one in a
different sphere, foundation stones of Jewish
thinking. Together they express the complexity of
Hillel’s personality and religious viewpoint. On the
one hand, there was his simple devotion to the
mitzvot as reflected in the stories of Hillel in the
Temple;[7] on the other, we see the breadth of his
all-encompassing vision, which regarded change as
part of the nature of our world. Hillel was able to
see the outcome, the reward and the punishment
of a given course of action. He could see where
certain ambitions would lead, and therefore what
checks and balances would be required. All these
were part of his overall philosophy. He did not
need to express them constantly and explicitly,
because they were, for him, part of the fabric of
reality, which was also the reality of his personal
life.
Hillel’s life was full of sharp transitions. He
came from a noble family in Babylonia to the Land
of Israel, where he first lived in poverty, eventually
becoming the ruler and leader of Israel. These
changes of status and location, from one world to
another, formed Hillel’s complex approach to the
world around him. He used lofty language along
with simple folk proverbs, stories drawn from life,
and descriptions of everyday reality. In setting and
establishing the status of Torah sages, he created a
new aristocracy, but he was also the first to
attempt to breach the walls of the beit midrash,
making it more open and accessible to all. It was
he who abolished tuition fees and made the study
of Torah available to the poor from whom, he
said, “Torah would go forth” (Nedarim 81a, not
cited in the name of Hillel). The creation of an
aristocracy based on the merit of Torah study,
ecstatic devoutness combined with the ability to
relate to all human beings – these were among the
defining characteristics of Hillel the Elder.
[1]. He is referred to as “Hillel the Babylonian”; Sukka 20a.
[2]. Ketubot 62b; Jerusalem Talmud, Ta’anit 4:2. In Kilayim 9:3
it says explicitly that he w as not descended from the male
line of the House of David.
[3] . Yoma 35b. For his being a w oodcutter, see Maimonides’
commentary on Pirkei Avot 2:45.
[4]. Bava Metzia 85a. They are: Rabban Shimon Ben Gamliel,
Bnei Batira, and Jonathan, the son of Saul. And in the
Jerusalem Talmud, Pesaĥim 6:1, Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria in
place of Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel.
[5]. Shabbat 31a: “On another occasion it happened that a
certain heathen came before Shammai and said to him,
‘Make me a proselyte, on condition that you teach me the
w hole Torah w hile I stand on one foot.’ Thereupon he
(Shammai) pushed him aw ay w ith the builder’s cubit w hich
w as in his hand. W hen he w ent before Hillel, he (Hillel) said
to him, ‘W hat is hateful to you, do not do to your
neighbor: that is the w hole Torah, w hile the rest is the
commentary thereof; go and learn it’.”
[6]. Shabbat 30b; Ketubot 87b; Beitza 20a (and ibid., Rashi);
Shabbat 17a (and ibid., Rashi); Sotah 48b; Vayikra Raba
1:5; and more.
[7]. Sukka 53a: “It w as said of Hillel the Elder that w hen he
used to rejoice on Simhat Beit HaShoeva [a ceremony of
the Temple celebrated during the feast of Sukkot w ith
much rejoicing], he used to recite: ‘If I am here, everyone
is here; but if I am not here, w ho is here?’ He also used to
say: ‘To the place that I love, there My feet lead me. If you
w ill come into My House, I w ill come into your house; if you
w ill not come to My House, I w ill not come to your house,
as it is said (Exodus 20:21): In every place w here I cause
My name to be mentioned, I w ill come unto you and bless
you.” (The capitalized personal pronouns in this passage
refer to the Divine Presence.)
Chapter two
Shammai the Elder
Shammai was known as “The Elder,” not because
of his age but because, like Hillel, he was a scholar
and community leader. The title was equivalent to
that of “Rabbi,” which was not yet in use. Thus,
Shammai the Elder was a leader of the community
and one of the sages of that generation, as well as
a member of the Sanhedrin.
The Mishna relates that Shammai was
appointed as Av Beit Din in place of Menaĥem, a
mysterious figure of whom we know only that he
left the world of Torah study for some other
sphere of activity (Mishna, Hagiga 2:2).
In Pirkei Avot (1:4–12) we read of the “pairs”
who transmitted the oral tradition from generation
to generation; Shammai and Hillel were the last of
these pairs. Hillel was Nasi of the Sanhedrin while
Shammai served as his deputy and was known as
the Av Beit Din.
Between the Nesi’im and their deputies there
often were ongoing disputes.[1] This seems to
indicate that the Nasi and his deputy argued not as
private individuals, but as representatives of
different schools of thought, or perhaps world
views, of which we are ignorant today. The
obscure debates of previous generations came to a
sharp head in the period of Hillel and Shammai, as
two distinct schools of thought emerged, each
developing an independent approach to the study
of Torah and to halakha.
Hillel and Shammai lived during the Herodian
period. The power of the Sanhedrin as the central
legislative body then began to be curtailed, and
private batei midrash multiplied, making it possible
for opposing schools of thought to arise.
Previously, when halakhic rulings were
concentrated in one institution – the Great
Sanhedrin, whose authority was universally
accepted – disputes would not last long (see
Sanhedrin 88b), since every dispute would
eventually reach the point of unequivocal, clearly
determined halakhic ruling. From the time of Hillel
and Shammai onward, however, the increasing
number of students and the inability to reach
conclusive decisions resulted in the establishment
of two major schools of thought and two
countering approaches to minor and major
halakhic problems.[2] These schools were known
a s Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai (literally, “The
House of Hillel” and “The House of Shammai”).
This state of affairs continued for over one
hundred years and was resolved only after the
destruction of the Second Temple. It then again
became necessary to concentrate the Torah in one
place in order to establish definitive halakhic
rulings.
Although the two Houses were greatly at
variance in their thinking, they were not rivals in
the literal sense. As the Talmud states: “They
showed love and friendship towards one
another.”[3] In general, these controversies were
regarded as the ultimate model of “an argument
for the sake of Heaven”[4] – that is, disagreement
without personal benefit. This is why the conflicts
could continue for years without becoming
personal rivalries; for although they did not
compromise their respective positions, each side
respected the other and studied the other’s
opinion.
The many halakhic debates between the
Houses of Hillel and Shammai were based on a
number of fundamental guidelines, which surely
reflect the respective personalities of the sages
who had founded them. Even after more than a
hundred years of dispute, during which the ideas
changed and developed, the personalities of
Shammai and Hillel were still the formative factors
of each House.
The conventional perception of the disputants
– Shammai as stringent and Hillel as consistently
lenient – is generally accurate to the extent that the
Talmud actually lists the exceptions to the rule
(Eduyot 84–85). However, a deeper look at the
personalities of Shammai and Hillel themselves
and of the styles of their respective Houses
provides a more complex picture.
Of Shammai’s origins we know very little.
Since nothing is said to the contrary, we can
assume that, like most sages of that period, he
was a Judean, most probably from Jerusalem.
Unlike Hillel, who came from Babylonia, or
Shemaya and Avtalyon, who were converts, it
seems that Shammai was born in the Land of
Israel, a representative of its permanent
inhabitants, rooted in the land for generations.
The little that we do know of him concerns
his profession. He was apparently an architect or
engineer, or at any rate, a master-builder. On
several occasions he used the builder’s cubit in his
hand to push someone away or to hint that a
certain person was not welcome (Shabbat 31a).
Shammai’s meticulousness was, to a certain extent,
a professional characteristic. It was the precision of
one who had to ensure that his construction would
stand, that the structure measured with his
yardstick would be exact and well-defined. He
could not afford the luxury of “approximately” or
“almost.”
Shammai’s approach, in halakha as in his
personal life, was not necessarily one of severity
but rather, as our sages defined it so well, one of
exactitude. When the famous non-Jew who wanted
to study the whole Torah standing on one leg
came to Shammai, the latter pushed him away
with his builder’s cubit, not as an expression of
anger, but rather as a statement of principle –
namely, that it is impossible to study Torah while
standing on one leg. Hillel, on the other hand, did
respond, saying: “Do not do unto others what you
would not have them do unto you” (ibid.). In
truth, this answer was not meant as a definition of
the Torah, but rather as an appealing declaration
aimed at encouraging that non-Jew to love the
Torah. For in the final analysis, the whole Torah
indeed cannot be taught on one leg. In fact, all
those who attempted to compile lists of Judaism’s
most fundamental beliefs struggled with the same
problem: the multifaceted and highly complex
nature of Judaism. Shammai knew that any
attempt to reduce this complexity to “one leg”
must, by its very nature, be imprecise. In rejecting
that non-Jew, he acted with the awareness of one
who is adamant about the truth.
In a seemingly different sphere, Hillel and
Shammai disagree on what turns out to be the
very same principle. To the question, What does
one sing as one dances before the bride? “Beit
Shammai says: [Sing the praises of] each bride as
she is; Beit Hillel says: [Treat every bride as if she
were] a beautiful and graceful bride” (Ketubot
16b–17a).[5] This ostensibly marginal issue, too,
reflects the viewpoint of Beit Shammai, not
necessarily as stringent, but as insistent upon
truthfulness: How can a blind or lame woman be
called beautiful and graceful? Against the view of
Beit Hillel (which, in other words, says that every
bride is beautiful in the eyes of the groom), Beit
Shammai maintains that truth is truth, with
boundaries and limits that must not be disregarded
under any circumstances. Truth must remain
intact, even when it is painful or inconvenient to
hear or implement. The strictness of Beit Shammai
is not meant to be burdensome, but rather to
preserve the limits, to clarify matters, and to
maintain their theoretical purity.
As we have said, we know only a few details
about Shammai the man himself. According to one
source, Shammai did not want to feed his young
son on Yom Kippur, because he did not feel
comfortable giving food to someone on that day.
He therefore fed his son with only one hand, while
the sages ruled that he should have fed him with
both hands (Tosefta, Yoma 5:2). He recoiled from
feeding the child because of the sanctity of the
day, but he would not let the child go hungry.
Thus he tried to set a limit: if a child is to be fed, it
should be done in a way that differs from his
feeding on a regular day. In a similar vein, there is
the story of Shammai’s concern for his newborn
grandson: during the festival of Sukkot he
removed part of the roof and built a succah over
the bed, so that the newborn could fulfill the
precept of sitting in the Sukka together with his
mother (Sukka 28a). These stories reflect warm
and close personal relationships. However, the
basic assumption remains: one cannot change the
law ad hominem. The rules must be absolute and
uncompromising, the right thing must be done.
These alternative approaches are, in the
deepest sense, what distinguishes the schools of
Hillel and Shammai, as well as the personalities of
the founding sages themselves. Their disputes in
every area, from the recital of the Shema to issues
of family purity, revolve around the same axis. Beit
Shammai represents an essentially idealistic
approach which strives to attain the utopian, no
matter how uncomfortable or impractical. Beit
Shammai regards theory as substantive in its own
right, is less concerned with its practical and
temporal expressions, and deals more with its
perfect theoretical expression. In this sense, Beit
Shammai sees things almost in the perspective of
infinity, while Beit Hillel sees things from the point
of view of the operative, existential reality.
One of the fiercest disputes between the two
schools revolves around the edicts known in
Talmud as “The Eighteen.” The Mishna [6] relates
that on a certain occasion, members of Beit
Shammai outnumbered those of Beit Hillel and
decreed eighteen edicts. These edicts, that follow a
certain pattern of severity, particularly in regard to
the laws of ritual purity and impurity, and that
were intended to enhance the particularity of the
Jewish nation, became – both because of their
stringency and because of the uproar caused by
that occasion[7] – decrees that could never be
annulled.
Major differences between the two houses are
apparent in non-halakhic disputes as well. It is said
that for two and a half years, the schools of
Shammai and Hillel debated whether it was better
for man to have been created or whether it would
have been better for man not to have been
created. “Beit Hillel says: It is better for man to
have been created than not to have been created;
Beit Shammai says: It would have been better for
man not to have been created than to have been
created” (Eruvin 13b). The final conclusion was a
sort of compromise: It would have been better for
man had he not been created, but since he has
been created he should examine his deeds and try
to correct them.[8] Here again, the approach of
Beit Shammai is to regard the abstract ideal as the
essential, and for this reason it would have been
preferable for man had he not been created. Man’s
life is only a shadow of a higher state of being and
he must, with all the discomfort involved, live his
life in accordance with the abstract ideals
concomitant with that higher existence.
In another instance, Beit Shammai argues
w i th Beit Hillel on the question of “What was
created first.” Beit Shammai says: Heaven was
created first; and Beit Hillel says: The earth was
created first (Hagiga 12a). This question is actually
an inquiry into what is the essential. It is
characteristic of Beit Shammai to state that Heaven
was created first. Their whole approach is that
earth is secondary to Heaven, a mere afterthought
to the essence of creation – Heaven. They derive
this from the text “Heaven is my throne and the
earth is my footstool” (Isaiah 66:2), asking: “Does
one make a footstool [first] and afterwards make
the throne?” That is to say, this world is no more
than a footstool, a corridor to the reception room,
a pale shadow of another reality.
The many disputes between the schools of
Shammai and Hillel, like the few recorded disputes
between the two sages themselves,[9] express two
distinct world views. Beit Shammai regards reality
through the prism of the ideal of the world
beyond. For this reason, reality must surrender to
the ideal, must be defined by clear-cut rulings,
without compromise, and woe to any obstacle that
gets in the way, for it is doomed to be eliminated.
Beit Hillel begins, in a certain sense, from the
ground, from reality, and theirs is a pragmatic,
although not necessarily compromising approach,
one which takes reality into account, and considers
human problems, sensitivities, and vagaries.
The seemingly severe approach of Beit
Shammai, then, is an expression of attraction to
the ideal, to the concept of perfection, to the vision
taken to its conclusion. Like Shammai the Elder
himself, the architect who builds an edifice and
cannot bear the thought that it will not be perfect
from foundation to rooftop, the halakha o f Beit
Shammai is meant to be a perfect structure, with
no deviations and deflections, a building that will
never collapse, because it has been constructed
according to absolute rules.
[1]. Mishna, Tractate Hagiga 2:2 records the dispute regarding
the laying of hands ( semikha) on the sacrificial beast on
festivals.
[2]. Sanhedrin 88b: “W hen the disciples of Shammai and Hillel,
w ho had insufficiently studied, increased in number,
disputes multiplied in Israel, and the Torah became as tw o
Torahs.”
[3]. Yevamot 14b: “Although Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel are in
disagreement on the questions of rivals, sisters [married to
brothers], an old bill of divorce, a doubtfully married
w oman…etc., Beit Shammai did not, nevertheless, abstain
from marrying w omen of the families of Beit Hillel, nor did
Beit Hillel refrain from marrying those of Beit Shammai. This
is to teach you that they show ed love and friendship
tow ards one another, thus putting into practice the
Scriptural text (Zachariah 8:18), ‘Truth and Peace love
[each other].’”
[4]. Pirkei Avot 5:17: “W hat is a dispute for the sake of
Heaven? The dispute of Hillel and Shammai.”
[5]. Ketubot 16b. This reflects the Jew ish custom of dancing
and singing in front of the bride and groom to increase the
sense of rejoicing. It is customary to compliment and flatter
the new lyw ed couple in these songs.
[6]. Mishna, Shabbat 1:4: “…the halakhot stated in the upper
chamber of Ĥanania ben Ĥizkiyya ben Garon w hen they
w ent up to visit him. They took a count, and Beit Shammai
out numbe re d Beit Hillel. On that day, they enacted
eighteen measures.” See also Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat
(13b–17b), and the commentary of Rav Ovadia of Bertinoro
on the Mishna.
[7]. Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 17a. “A sw ord w as planted in
t h e beit midrash and it w as proclaimed: He w ho w ould
enter, let him enter; but he w ho w ould depart, let him not
depart. And on that day, Hillel sat submissive before
Shammai, like one of his disciples, and it w as as grievous to
Israel as the day w hen the [golden] calf w as made.” See
also the Jerusalem Talmud, Tractate Shabbat 1:2, from
w hich it appears that blood may have been shed that day.
[8]. The compromise w as that “Should it fall in his lot to
perform a mitzva, the loss occasioned by its performance
should be w eighed against its rew ard; and he should not
abstain from performing it because of the loss, since its
rew ard is to be given in the next w orld” (Rashi on Shabbat
17a).
[9]. E duyot 1:1, 1:3, and Shabbat 15a: “Rabbi Huna said:
Shammai and Hillel disputed in three instances,” etc. See
also the Jerusalem Talmud, Hagiga 2:6, w hich lists also the
dispute mentioned in the Mishna, Hagiga 2:2 op. cit.
Chapter three
Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai
For many years – the final generations of the
Second Temple Period and the period following its
destruction – Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai was one
of the central personalities in the Jewish world.
Rabban Yoĥanan was among the younger pupils of
Hillel the Elder, [1] and in time became one of the
pillars of Beit Hillel and its dynasty of Nesi’im . For
a time he even held the official status of Nasi of
Israel. He is unique in that he was the only person
outside the direct descendants of Hillel to bear the
title Rabban – that is, our Rabbi, the Rabbi of all
Israel.
Even when others held the position of Nasi,
Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai was considered a
pivotal leader. He was one of the great Torah
scholars, perhaps the greatest disseminator of
Torah of his day. Renowned scholars such as
Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrkanus, Rabbi Yehoshua ben
Ĥanania, and many others who constituted the
leadership of the Oral Torah in later generations,
were among his pupils.[2]
As a central personality over several
generations, Rabban Yoĥanan saw himself
responsible, to a certain degree, for establishing
principles for the future course of Jewish history.
This found expression in his activities following the
destruction of the Second Temple, prior to the
Great Revolt and during the Revolt itself.
In the relatively tranquil period which
preceded the Great Revolt, Rabban Yoĥanan was
the outstanding figure among the Perushim
(Pharisees). He acted consistently – often taking
extreme, rigorous measures – in order to uproot
the remnants of the rule of the Tzedukim
(Sadducees), both from the government and the
Sanhedrin and from the Temple ritual. Rabbi
Yoĥanan used to debate with the Sadducean
leadership, usually in a tone of superiority, often
with inordinate sharpness. A familiar phrase of his
was: “Let not the whole of our Torah be only an
idle conversation of yours” (Bava Batra 115a). In
his attempts to impose the Pharisaic tradition and
that of the School of Hillel as the accepted canon,
Rabban Yoĥanan was not too particular about the
means he chose. One of the less familiar stories
about him relates that during an argument with
the High Priest (apparently a Tzeduki-Sadducee),
Rabban Yoĥanan tore off the priest’s earlobe to
render him permanently unfit for priestly office.[3]
His activities in those days were, in a sense, a
continuation of Shimon ben Shettaĥ’s mission to
impose the Pharisaic tradition in all areas of Jewish
life (see Megillat Ta’anit 10).
Although in most cases Rabban Yoĥanan
followed Hillel’s dictum: “Love peace and pursue
peace,”[4]his reputation as a conciliator, all
tranquility and moderation, is not altogether
accurate. In his own way, Rabban Yoĥanan was an
extremist who believed in enforcing the principles
he considered essential.
In contrast to his extremism in the bitter fight
against the Sadducees, we find that Rabban
Yoĥanan was opposed to the Great Revolt from
the outset. This was not due to any great affection
for the yoke of the Roman Empire, but because he
did not believe that the rebels could hold out for
long. He surmised that the Revolt would lead to
catastrophe, and early on began to act accordingly.
He attempted, on the one hand, to moderate the
outbursts of hostility as far as he was able, and on
the other, to create alternative frameworks for
Jewish life.
Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, who was not of
the line of Hillel (he himself was apparently a
Kohen),[5] regarded himself as a sort of trustee of
that dynasty. This is reflected in his relationship
towards Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel the first, the
Nasi of the Sanhedrin.[6] Later on, Rabban
Yoĥanan needed all his powers of persuasion to
save the Hillelian dynasty from destruction by the
Romans, who obliterated anyone antagonistic to
their might.[7]
Understanding Rabban Yoĥanan’s perspective
on his position is essential for comprehending his
character and deeds. In an interesting conversation
with his wife, he compares himself to Rabbi
Ĥanina ben Dosa, the Miracle Worker, saying:
“Ĥanina is like the slave of the King, and I am like
the minister of the King.”[8] Rabban Yoĥananben
Zakkai saw himself as a minister, not in just any
government but in the government of the
Almighty, King of Kings, bound to manage His
major affairs. Although Rabban Yoĥanan also dealt
with minutiae, as did every great man of Israel, his
primary preoccupation was with the larger picture,
with the essential decisions of the Supreme
Authority.
In his involvement with the larger
framework, Rabban Yoĥanan left plenty of latitude
for others to operate. Like Hillel, he was therefore
able to recognize the strengths and qualities of
every individual. His loving attitude to his pupils is
interesting not only for the affection in which he
held them, but also for the way in which he found
in each one a special quality that he himself
lacked.[9] His perception of the other’s worth is
apparent in his efforts to save the life of Rabbi
Zadok, whom he regarded as a saint, and in his
struggle to preserve the Hillelian dynasty – even
though at the time, no individual of that line could
match his learning.
All this indicates the personality of a man
disinterested in any official position for himself,
who felt a great loyalty towards “the Greater
Kingdom,” and considered himself responsible for
all that happened there. Rabban Yoĥanan ben
Zakkai saw his role as shaping and guiding major
processes. He never wanted more for himself than
to be a “kingmaker.” Even when he was the Nasi,
he regarded it as a merely temporary state, not to
be bequeathed to his descendants.
Rabban Yoĥanan enjoyed special status
during the Revolt. Despite his opposition to the
Revolt, which stemmed from his appraisal that it
was doomed to failure, he never severed his
connections with the rebels and their associates.
Those same connections indeed stood him in good
stead thereafter. One of the leaders of the Revolt,
mentioned only by his nickname “Ben Batiaĥ,”[10]
was Rabban Yoĥanan’s nephew, his sister’s son. In
the context of their special relationship, Rabban
Yoĥanan tried to convince Ben Batiaĥ that there
was no reason to pursue the war beyond a certain
point. However, Ben Batiaĥ, like other
contemporary political leaders, while possibly
convinced of the truth of the argument, was
unable to act against forces that he himself had
created. Rabban Yoĥanan therefore asked to be
smuggled out of Jerusalem in order to negotiate
with the Romans and save what might yet be
extricated from the ruins.[11]
Rabban Yoĥanan’s action was not a
spontaneous decision. Forty years before the
destruction of Jerusalem, it was clear to him that
the Temple would be destroyed, [12] and it seems
that his activities over the years were part of a
large, far-reaching scheme. For one who was
“Minister of the King,” the direction was clear: the
King’s rule must continue. The problem was no
longer that of guarding the capital or the Temple,
but rather the preservation and the significance of
Jewish existence. Leaving the walls of the
beleaguered city in order to conduct negotiations
with the head of the Roman Army, Vespasian, was
yet another step on a course of action most likely
begun many years earlier. There are differences of
opinion among scholars as to exactly when the
center at Yavneh began to function. It is clear,
however, that several years before the destruction,
Rabban Yoĥanan had already prepared an
alternative to which it might be possible to flee, a
base for a “provisional government” after the
official leadership would fall with the collapse of
the Revolt.
Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai’s conversations
with Vespasian ( Gittin 56a and Ekha Raba 1:31)
are famous both for his broad vision of Jewish
survival and for his clear reading of the
contemporary political map. It is told that in his
meeting with Vespasian, Rabban Yoĥanan
addressed him by the honorary title “Caesar.” [13]
Although this was considered a treasonable act,
since Vespasian was not yet Caesar, Rabban
Yoĥanan assumed that Vespasian was not only a
candidate for high office in Rome, but that he
would actually become Caesar. He negotiated with
Vespasian on major matters of state, in spite of the
fact that Vespasian was not yet authorized to make
such decisions, because he sensed – correctly, as it
eventually turned out – that this was the man with
whom negotiations should be held. With his
success in predicting Vespasian’s future, Rabban
Yoĥanan tried to mitigate the effects of the war on
Jerusalem[14] and, perhaps, even to end it
altogether. However, since not only Vespasian but
also the Jerusalemites were uninterested in any
kind of negotiation, destruction was, after all,
inevitable.
Rabban Yoĥanan nevertheless managed to
achieve some of his goals, including the ongoing
rule of the dynasty of Hillel, which he regarded as
the true continuation of the royal Davidic dynasty.
His decision to name Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh as
the leader of Israel gave additional power to the
Nesi’im of the House of Hillel. If, until the Great
Revolt, the Nasi was answerable to other political
factors, from that time on the Nasi from the House
of Hillel was the leader of Israel in practically all
areas, religious and political alike.
After the destruction of the Temple, Rabban
Yoĥanan acted on two levels. On one level, he
created new frameworks within the Jewish world,
to prevent total collapse in the wake of the
destruction. His rulings[15] on halakhic issues in
altered circumstances are only part of the great
change (hard for us nowadays to properly
appreciate) caused by the destruction of the
Temple. The transformation involved shifting the
axis – in terms of the study of halakha and of
halakhic rulings – from the Temple and its ritual to
other areas. On another level, Rabban Yoĥanan
was one of the first to establish the principle of the
commemoration of the Temple as the basis for
numerous rulings. He was, therefore, occupied on
the one hand with creating alternatives, as interim
solutions for the absence of the Temple and its
ritual, and, on the other, with ensuring that
Jerusalem and the Temple would remain the
undiminished focal point of Jewish religious life.
These simultaneous responses transferred the
center of gravity not only from “Temple” to
“Torah,” but from a single site to many significant
locations. Rabban Yoĥanan established a system in
which the Temple and the Torah, the Land of
Israel and the Diaspora, were interwoven.
The poignant story of Rabban Yoĥanan’ s
death and his last conversation with his pupils[16]
expresses something of what others thought of
him and what he thought about himself, right
before his death. At the end of that conversation
Rabban Yoĥanan said to his pupils: “Remove the
utensils because of impurity[17] and prepare a
throne for Ĥizkiyya, King of Judea.”
In linking the deeds of these apparently
disparate personalities, the visionary visit of King
Ĥizkiyya at such a time represents the ultimate
definition of Rabban Yoĥanan’s role. Ĥizkiyya, King
of Judea, seems to have taken a course antithetical
to that of Rabban Yoĥanan. Faced with a similar
situation – he, too, was besieged by a foreign
empire – he did not surrender and would not
accept peace on any terms (II Kings 18). Yet King
Ĥizkiyya came to visit Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai
on his deathbed because in the deeper sense, both
leaders acted in the same way: each one, in his
own era and in his own fashion, was concerned
with the continuity of Jewish existence. One chose
to fight to the finish (an end which might have
been tragic had there not been miraculous
deliverance); the other abandoned the besieged
city and supposedly betrayed it. Yet King Ĥizkiyya
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai had identical
intentions: to perpetuate the rule, not of a single
family, nor of a dynasty, nor of a particular
political viewpoint, but of the Almighty, over the
people of Israel.
[1]. Sukka 28a: “Our Rabbis taught: Hillel the Elder had eighty
disciples, thirty of w hom w ere w orthy of the Divine Spirit
resting upon them as [it did upon] Moses our teacher, and
thirty of w hom w ere w orthy that the sun should stand still
for them as [it did for] Joshua bin Nun (Joshua 10:12), and
the remaining tw enty w ere ordinary. The greatest of them
w as Yonatan ben Uzziel. The smallest of them w as Yoĥanan
ben Zakkai.” And in the Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim 3:6: “It
happened that Hillel fell sick and all his pupils came to visit
him. Rabbi Yoĥanan ben Zakkai stood in the courtyard. He
[Hillel] said to them: W here is the youngest of you, he w ho
is father of w isdom and a father to the generations to
come?”
[2]. Among them Rabbi Yossi HaKohen, Rabbi Shimon ben
Netanel, Rabbi Elazar ben Arakh, Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh,
Rabbi Ĥanina ben Dosa, Rabbi Nebunyah ben HaKana, Rabbi
Elazar HaModa’i, and others.
[3]. Tosefta, Para 3:8: “It is told of a Sadducean High Priest
w ho [ritually] immersed himself and w hen the sun w ent
dow n came to burn the [red] heifer (w hich is against the
halakha). Rabban Yoĥanan Ben Zakkai knew of this. He
came to him and placed both hands upon him (thus defiling
him and forcing him to immerse again), and said: ‘My good
High Priest, you are a fine specimen of a High Priest, go and
immerse yourself once.’ He w ent and did so, and w hen he
came back, [Rabban Yoĥanan] injured his ear [lobe] (thus
making him unfit for priesthood; see Leviticus 21). He said:
‘Ben Zakkai! I w ill get you for this!’ He retorted: ‘W hen you
can.’ Three days had not passed w hen he (that priest) w as
buried.”
[4]. See Pirkei Avot 1:2. And in Berakhot 17a: “It w as related
of Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai that no man ever gave him
greeting first, not even a foreigner in the street.”
[5]. According to Maimonides, in the forew ord to his
commentary on the Mishna, and also Rashi on Shabbat 34a:
“He w as also a Kohen , as it is stated in Tosefta, Para 4:7: ‘I
have forgotten that w hich my hands have done’ (namely,
that he himself used to do these ritual acts in the
Temple).”
[6]. Rabban Shimon, w ho w as extremely close to Rabban
Yoĥanan, w as apparently on the opposing side w ith regard
to the Revolt. Formally, he w as one of the leaders of
Jerusalem at the time, and is actually named as one of the
Ten Martyrs.
[7]. Gittin 56b: “He [Rabban Yoĥanan] said [to Vespasian]:
‘Give me Yavneh and its w ise men, and the family chain of
Rabban Gamliel, and physicians to cure Rabbi Zadok.’” See
nn. 13, 14.
[8]. Berakhot 34b: “It is also told of Rabbi Ĥanina ben Dosa
that he w ent to study Torah w ith Rabban Yoĥanan ben
Zakkai. The son of Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai fell ill. He
said to him: ‘Ĥanina my son, pray for him that he may live.’
He [Ĥanina] put his head betw een his knees and prayed for
him and he lived. Said Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai: ‘If ben
Zakkai had stuck his head betw een his knees for the w hole
day, no notice w ould have been taken of him.’ Said his w ife
to him: ‘Is Ĥanina greater than you are?’ He replied to her:
‘No; but he is like a servant before the king [w ho can come
in to see the king at any time] and I am like a nobleman
[minister] before the king [w ho can only see the king at
fixed times.]”
[9]. Pirkei Avot 2:10–11: “Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai had five
pupils… He w ould recount their foremost qualities: Rabbi
Eliezer ben Hyrkanus is a plastered cistern that loses not a
drop [=retentive memory]; Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ĥanania –
happy is she that gave birth to him; Rabbi Yossi HaKohen is
a pious man; Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel is one w ho fears
sin; Rabbi Elazar ben Arakh is like a spring that ever bubbles
forth (=creative mind).”
[10]. Ekha Raba 1:31; in Gittin 56a he is called “Abba Sikara.”
[11]. Git t in 56a: “Abba Sikara, head of the Biryonim of
Jerusalem [Jew ish terrorists in action against the Romans
and their Jew ish collaborators during the Roman
occupation], w as the son of the sister of Rabban Yoĥanan
ben Zakkai. He [Rabban Yoĥanan] sent him [a message
saying]: ‘Come to visit me in private.’ W hen he came,
[Rabban Yoĥanan] said to him: ‘How long are you going to
carry on in this w ay, and kill all the people by starvation?’ He
replied: ‘W hat can I do? If I say a w ord to them, they w ill
kill me.’ He said: ‘Devise some plan for me to escape [from
the besieged city], perhaps I shall be able to save a little.’”
[12]. Yoma 39b: “During the forty years before the
destruction of the Temple, the lot [‘For the Lord,’ on one
of the tw o goats sacrificed on Yom Kippur] did not come
up in the right hand, nor did the thread of scarlet become
w hite [also on Yom Kippur, a sign that the sins of Israel are
expiated], nor did the Western-most candle [in the Golden
Lamp of the Temple] shine, w hile the doors of the
Sanctuary w ould open by themselves, until Rabban
Yoĥanan ben Zakkai rebuked them, saying: ‘Sanctuary,
Sanctuary, w hy w ill you be the alarmer yourself? I know
that you w ill be destroyed.’”
[13]. Gittin 56a–b: “W hen he [Rabban Yoĥanan] reached the
Romans, he said: ‘Peace to you, O King, peace to you, O
King!’ He [Vespasian] said: ‘Your life is forfeit on tw o
accounts. One, because I am not a king, and you call me
king; and again, if I am a king, w hy did you not come to me
before now ?’ He replied: ‘As for your saying that you are
not king, in truth you are a king…’ etc.”
[14]. Ekha Raba 1:31: “Vespasian said to Rabban Yoĥanan ben
Zakkai: ‘Make a request and I w ill comply.’ He replied:
‘Leave this country alone and go.’ Said Vespasian: ‘Have I
been appointed by the Romans so that I w ould leave this
country and go? But still, make a request and I w ill comply.’
Said [Rabban Yoĥanan]: ‘Leave the Western Gate [of the
w alls of Jerusalem], from w hich goes the w ay to Lydda,
free [of siege], so that w hoever leaves w ithin four hours
w ill be saved’ etc.”
[15]. See Rosh HaShana 31b, w hich lists nine rulings, as
follow s: “Six [are] mentioned in this chapter (1. That the
shofar should be blow n on Rosh HaShana w hich falls on
Shabbat w herever there is a beit din ; 2. That the lulav
should be taken in the provinces [all] seven days [of
Sukkot h ; 3. That new corn should be forbidden the w hole
of the 16th of Nisan; 4. That testimony w ith regard to the
new moon should be received the w hole day; 5. That
w itnesses should go only to the place of assembly; 6. and
that the priests should not ascend the podium in their
sandals.) and one in the previous chapter (that the
w itnesses should be allow ed to profane the Sabbath only
for [the testimony of the new moon for the months of]
Nisan and Tishrei). And the follow ing one, as it has been
taught: One w ho becomes a proselyte at the present time
must set aside a quarter for a nest of pigeons. [W hile the
Temple stood, a new convert had to bring a sacrifice of
pigeons. After the destruction, the Rabbis still insisted on
his bringing them, in case the Temple should be rebuilt.]
Rabban Yoĥanan took a vote on it and annulled this rule
because it may lead to w rongdoing [i.e., the money might
be used for secular purposes]. As to the last [ruling], there
is a difference of opinion betw een Rav Papa and Rav
Naĥman bar Yitzĥak. Rav Papa said it w as [the regulation]
regarding the vine of the fourth year, and Rav Naĥman bar
Yitzĥak said it w as one regarding the thread of scarlet [on
the Day of Atonement].”
[16]. Berakhot 28b: “W hen Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai fell ill,
his disciples w ent in to visit him. W hen he saw them he
began to w eep. His disciples said to him: ‘Lamp of Israel,
pillar of the right hand, mighty hammer [i.e., Great Scholar]!
W herefore do you w eep?’ He replied: ‘If I w ere being
taken today before a human king, w ho is here today and
tomorrow in the grave, w hose anger, if he is angry w ith
me, does not last forever,…even so I w ould w eep. Now
that I am being taken before the supreme King of Kings,
the Holy One be blessed, w ho lives and endures for ever
and ever, w hose anger, if He is angry w ith me, is an
everlasting anger…Nay, more: w hen there are tw o w ays
before me, one leading to Paradise and the other to hell,
and I do not know by w hich I shall be taken, shall I not
w eep?’”
[17]. According to Jew ish law , a dead person causes all the
utensils found under the same roof w ith him to become
ritually impure.
Chapter four
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ĥanania
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ĥanania, known in the
Mishna simply as “Rabbi Yehoshua,” without the
patronymic, was an outstanding pupil of Rabban
Yoĥanan ben Zakkai. He was also Rabban
Yoĥanan’s notable successor as a supporter of Beit
Hillel – as opposed to Beit Shammai – in every
sense.
Thanks to detailed Talmudic and MidRashic
accounts of the destruction of the Temple and of
the period immediately following, we know far
more about Rabbi Yehoshua’s life and remarkable
personality than we do about other sages of the
time. Rabbi Yehoshua apparently enjoyed
considerable prestige during the Temple period
and was already foremost among Rabban
Yoĥanan’s pupils. In fact, Rabbi Yehoshua and
Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrkanus were considered the
two leading students of his beit midrash. Rabban
Yoĥanan seems to have favored Rabbi Eliezer,
partly for personal reasons (Pirkei Avot 2:8),
although ultimately Rabbi Yehoshua emerged as
his successor. It was Rabbi Yehoshua who
perpetuated Beit Hillel’s methodology in its pure
form, and, like his mentor Rabban Yoĥanan, felt
responsible for the continued existence and well-
being of the Jewish people.
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ĥanania was a Levite,
and it is said that he managed to sing in this
capacity in the Temple, before its destruction. [1]
At the same time, it seems that even before the
destruction, he could not make a living as a Levite.
For many years he earned his living from hard
physical labor as a blacksmith, or possibly even as
a charcoal burner. [2] In any case, wealth always
eluded him.
After Rabban Yoĥanan’s death, a triumvirate
headed the beit midrash: the Nasi – the assertive
Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh, and at his side his
brother-in-law, Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrkanus,[3] and
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ĥanania.[4]
Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua were close
friends from youth, but represented two opposing
views of halakha. Their many disagreements can
be found throughout the Mishna. It is usually
assumed that Rabbi Eliezer took a more
conservative line and to a large extent followed
Beit Shammai.[5] Rabbi Yehoshua, on the other
hand, represented the Hillelian approach in its
fullest fashion. Therefore, with few exceptions, the
halakha was decided according to Rabbi Yehoshua
and against Rabbi Eliezer.
The two men were also extremely different in
personality. Rabbi Eliezer – a Levite, too – was the
son of a wealthy family, while Rabbi Yehoshua was
a pauper all his life. Rabbi Eliezer was tall and
handsome, while Rabbi Yehoshua was not. Rabbi
Eliezer had tendencies to asceticism; he was an
idealist who leaned towards severe rulings and
extreme positions. Rabbi Yehoshua, on the other
hand, was very pragmatic in his approach both to
halakha and to worldly affairs.
This pragmatism, however, did not prevent
problems. Perhaps because of his very tendency to
downplay rivalry and avoid extremism, Rabbi
Yehoshua found himself at the heart of two very
stormy disputes. The first was the dispute with the
Nasi of the Sanhedrin, Rabban Gamliel. Rabbi
Yehoshua was not always willing to accept the
authority of the Nasi, who tried to force a single,
central authority upon all the sages. But precisely
because he tried to evade open confrontation,
Rabbi Yehoshua found himself in awkward
positions that ultimately led to great resentment of
the Nasi by the sages. As a result, for the first and
probably the only time in history, the Nasi was
deposed.[6] In his stead, the sages nominated not
Rabbi Yehoshua, who was an interested party, but
a virtually unknown scholar: Rabbi Elazar ben
Azaria. It was characteristic of Rabbi Yehoshua
that, although he was the one offended, he was
also the mediator between the sides, and restored
Rabban Gamliel’s status.[7]
Another more bitter and painful dispute arose
with his friend Rabbi Eliezer. [8] This controversy,
which revolved around a specific halakhic ruling
pertaining to the laws of purity and impurity,
became one of great importance. Rabbi Eliezer
continued to maintain his position even in the face
of opposition from most of the sages, and Rabbi
Yehoshua opposed him in defense of the very
fundamental principle of majority rule. The dispute
grew progressively serious, until it became
impossible to function with the leadership divided
and unable to accept the clear decision of the
majority. The sages, headed by Rabban Gamliel,
therefore took an unprecedented step and
excommunicated Rabbi Eliezer.
Rabbi Yehoshua, at the center of both events,
followed Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai. In restoring
Rabban Gamliel to his position as Nasi of the
Sanhedrin, he served as the protector of the
Hillelian dynasty. And in the dispute with Rabbi
Eliezer he acted uncompromisingly, despite their
personal friendship, to maintain centralized rule by
the majority.
Only three people ever bested Rabbi
Yehoshua in argument: a woman and two young
Jerusalem children (Eruvin 53b; Derech Eretz 6,
and Ekha Raba 1), for indeed he was one of the
most dazzling debaters in Jewish history – in
internal disputes with other sages and scholars, as
well as with outside opponents. Rabbi Yehoshua
headed almost all the official delegations sent by
the sages to Rome. His intelligence, wit, and
unique sense of humor enabled him to engage in
serious confrontation and to win an argument,
without creating personal animosity or
antagonism.
Many tales are told of Rabbi Yehoshua’ s
visits to the Emperor in Rome. In one of the most
famous ones, the Emperor’s daughter tried to
provoke him by asking how such splendid wisdom
could be found in such an ugly vessel (Ta’anit 7a).
Rabbi Yehoshua advised the princess to put the
royal wine in silver and gold vessels instead of in
plain clay jugs. She did as she was told – and the
wine went sour. When the Caesar questioned
Rabbi Yehoshua about his advice, he replied: “I
told her what she had told me,” thus
demonstrating that excessive beauty can corrupt
wisdom.
Many other stories throughout the Talmud
and the Midrash reveal other aspects of Rabbi
Yehoshua’s personality. For example, the sages
came to consult with Rabbi Yehoshua about a
strange will, in which a father wrote that he would
leave all his property to his son when his son
became a fool. The sages found Rabbi Yehoshua
playing with his children, and one of his sons
riding on his back. After the game, Rabbi
Yehoshua explained that that was precisely what
the writer of the will had meant: that he would
bequeath his property to his son when the son
himself became a father and played the fool with
his children (Midrash Shoĥer Tov [Buber Edition]
92).
These qualities enabled Rabbi Yehoshua to
resolve serious and fundamental issues. Only in his
day was halakha finally decided according to Beit
Hillel, against Beit Shammai. The power of his
personality was felt outside the Jewish community
as well. His efforts to persuade, through humor or
polemics, influenced the Roman authorities to
moderate their stance towards the Jews, and
helped the Jews to moderate their expectations
from the Romans. In this sense Rabbi Yehoshua
certainly postponed the outbursts that led to the
Great Revolt.
T h e Midrash relates that the Jews were
deeply bitter after Hadrian reneged on his promise
to repair the Temple. Afraid that they would
explode in open revolt, Rabbi Yehoshua addressed
the people, telling the following fable: A lion
devoured its prey and a bone became stuck in its
throat. The lion said: whoever removes this bone
will be rewarded. An Egyptian heron, with a long
bill, extracted the bone. But when he requested his
reward, the lion told him: It is enough that you
put your head in my throat and emerged
unharmed. Thus, Rabbi Yehoshua said: it is
enough that we have fallen into the hands of that
nation [the Romans] and come out unharmed. The
people’s anger abated (Bereshit Raba 64:8).
The sages recognized Rabbi Yehoshua’s
moderating influence, and as his death
approached, they asked him: What will become of
us now (when no one will be capable of
conducting disputes and confronting the forces
from without)?[9] Rabbi Yehoshua comforted
them by saying that whenever the Jewish people
lacks leadership of stature, the same is true of the
other nations. However, it is certain that so long as
he lived, his intervention changed the flow of
history.
In his concern for Jewish survival, Rabbi
Yehoshua fought against any deviation from
internal unity. This was true in internal
controversies, as with Rabbi Eliezer who remained
his friend until his very last day, and in
confrontations with heretical groups, such as the
early Christians and others who diverged from the
halakha in one way or another. One such group,
known as the “Mourners of Zion,” excessively
grieved over the destruction of the Temple. [10] It
was Rabbi Yehoshua who returned them to
normative practice, by demonstrating that
immoderate mourning was unwarranted, and that
one must accept reality and go along with it, one
way or another.
Although Rabbi Yehoshua never
compromised on his opinions, and would
sometimes take rigorous and unyielding positions,
he was the great peacemaker. Preserving national
unity and alleviating disagreements, while
remaining steadfast, was his great task. His death
therefore led, almost immediately, to the outbursts
that brought about the Great Revolt. There no
longer was a leader of Rabbi Yehoshua’s stature
who could mitigate, cool passions, and put matters
into perspective.
With his wisdom and modesty, his ability to
foresee events and his sense of responsibility
towards continued Jewish existence, Rabbi
Yehoshua was able to accept the authority of
people of lesser stature, and to do so with humor
and without bitterness. Rabbi Yehoshua was
perceptive; he could discern future leaders. It was
he who ransomed Rabbi Yishmael, then still a
child, from Roman captivity, because he
recognized his potential greatness.[11] Rabbi
Yehoshua was apparently also the first to
anticipate Rabbi Akiva’s eminence. Contrary to
Rabbi Eliezer, who took no notice of Rabbi Akiva
at first,[12] Rabbi Yehoshua promoted him
throughout, until he reached full stature, almost
third in the hierarchy headed by Rabbi Yehoshua
and Rabbi Eliezer.
Rabbi Yehoshua became the archetype of the
Jewish sage. Because of his intelligence and
sharpness in argument, and the wisdom and
humility that accompanied them, and thanks to his
broad vision, Rabbi Yehoshua was the
embodiment of all that the Jewish people regarded
as wisdom.
[1]. A rakhin 11b: “It happened that Rabbi Yehoshua ben
Ĥanania w ent to assist Rabbi Yoĥanan ben Gudgeda [w ho
w as also a Levite] in the fastening of the Temple doors,
w hereupon [the latter] said to him: ‘My son, turn back, for
you are of the choristers, not of the doorkeepers.’” See
also Sukka 53a and Nedarim 113a.
[2]. Berakhot 28a: “He [Rabban Gamliel] said to him [to Rabbi
Yehoshua]: ‘From the w alls of your house it is apparent
that you are a charcoal burner.’” Rashi comments: “A
charcoal burner, and some say a blacksmith.” Charcoal
burning w as considered a low ly profession.
[3]. Rabbi Eliezer w as married to Rabban Gamliel’s sister, know n
in the Talmud as “ Ima Shalom” (lit.: “Mother Peace”) ( Bava
Kama 74b).
[4]. Bava Kama 74b. In practice, Rabbi Yehoshua served as Av
Beit Din , although neither this position nor any other w as
ever formally conferred on him.
[5]. Jerusalem Talmud, Shevi’it 9:8: “Rabbi Eliezer is a
Shammuti (the appellation for a supporter of Beit
Shammai).”
[6]. Berakhot 27b: “It is related that a certain disciple came
before Rabbi Yehoshua and asked, Is the evening prayer
compulsory or optional? He replied: It is optional. He then
compulsory or optional? He replied: It is optional. He then
presented himself before Rabban Gamliel and asked him: Is
the evening prayer compulsory or optional? He replied:
Compulsory. But, he said, did not Rabbi Yehoshua tell me
that it is optional? He said: Wait till the champions
[=scholars] enter the beit midrash . W hen the scholars
came in, someone rose and inquired, Is the evening prayer
compulsory or optional? Rabban Gamliel replied: It is
compulsory. Said Rabban Gamliel to the sages: Is there
anyone w ho disputes this? Rabbi Yehoshua replied to him:
No. He said to him: Did they not report you to me as saying
that it is optional? He then w ent on: Yehoshua, stand up
and let them testify against you! Rabbi Yehoshua stood up
and said: Were I alive and he [the w itness] dead, the living
could contradict the dead. But now that he is alive and I
am alive, how can the living contradict the living? Rabban
Gamliel remained sitting and expounding and Rabbi
Yehoshua remained standing, until all the people there
began to shout and say to Ĥutzpit the Interpreter, Stop!
And he stopped. They then said: How long is he [Rabban
Gamliel] to go on insulting him [Rabbi Yehoshua]? On New
Year last year he insulted him; he insulted him in the matter
of the firstborn in the affair of Rabbi Zadok; now he insults
him again! Come, let us depose him! W hom shall w e
appoint in his stead? We can hardly appoint Rabbi
Yehoshua, because he is one of the parties involved. We
can hardly appoint Rabbi Akiva, because perhaps Rabban
Gamliel w ill bring a curse on him because he has no
ancestral merit. Let us then appoint Rabbi Elazar ben
‘Azaria….” See also: Mishna, Rosh HaShana 2; and Bekhorot
36a.
[7]. Berakhot 28a: “Rabbi Yehoshua sent a message to the
beit midrash saying: Let him w ho is accustomed to w ear
the robe w ear it; shall he w ho is not accustomed to w ear
the robe say to him w ho is accustomed to w ear it, Take off
your robe and I w ill put it on? Said Rabbi Akiva to the
Rabbis: Lock the doors so that the servants of Rabban
Gamliel should not come and upset the Rabbis. Said Rabbi
Yehoshua: I had better get up and go to them. He came
and knocked at the door. He said to them: Let the sprinkler
son of a sprinkler sprinkle! (This is reference to Rabban
Gamliel, w ho had an hereditary claim to the post of Nasi);
shall he w ho is neither a sprinkler nor the son of a sprinkler
say to a sprinkler son of a sprinkler, Your w ater is cave
w ater and your ashes are oven ashes (and therefore
cannot purify)? Said Rabbi Akiva to him: Rabbi Yehoshua,
you have received your apology, have w e done anything
except out of regard for your honor?”
[8]. Bava Metzia 59a–b. See also Chapter 5 on Rabbi Eliezer.
[9]. Hagiga 5b: “W hen the soul of Rabbi Yehoshua ben
Ĥanania w as about to go to its rest, the Rabbis said to him:
W hat w ill become of us at the hands of the unbelievers?
He answ ered them: ‘Counsel is perished from the Children,
their w isdom is vanished’ (Jeremiah 49:7) – so soon as
counsel is perished from the children [of Israel], the w isdom
of the peoples of the w orld is vanished.”
[10]. Bava Batra 60b: “W hen the Temple w as destroyed for
the second time, large numbers in Israel became ascetics,
binding themselves neither to eat meat nor to drink w ine.
Rabbi Yehoshua got into conversation w ith them and said
to them: ‘My sons, w hy do you not eat meat not drink
w ine?’ They replied: ‘Shall w e eat meat w hich used to be
brought as an offering on the altar, now that the altar is in
abeyance? Shall w e drink w ine w hich used to be poured as
libation on the altar, but now no longer?’ He said to them:
‘If that is so, w e should not eat bread either, because the
meal offerings have ceased.’ They said: ‘[That is so, and]
w e can manage w ith fruit.’ ‘We should not eat fruit either,’
[he said] ‘Because there is no longer an offering of first-
fruits.’ ‘Then w e can manage w ith other fruits’ [they said].
‘But’ [he said] ‘w e should not drink w ater, because there is
no longer any ceremony of the pouring of w ater [as used
to be celebrated on Sukkot].’ To this they could find no
answ er, so he said to them: ‘My sons, come and listen to
me. Not to mourn at all is impossible, because the blow has
fallen. To mourn overmuch is also impossible, because w e
do not impose on the community a hardship w hich the
majority cannot endure,’” etc.
[11]. Gittin 58a: “Our Rabbis have taught: Rabbi Yehoshua ben
Ĥanania once happened to go to the great city of Rome,
and he w as told there that there w as in the prison a child
w ith beautiful eyes and face and curly locks. He w ent and
stood at the doorw ay of the prison and said, ‘W ho gave
Jacob for a spoil and Israel to be robbed?’ (Isaiah 42:24).
The child answ ered: ‘Is it not the Lord, He against w hom
w e have sinned and in w hose w ays they w ould not w alk,
neither w ere they obedient unto his law ’(ibid.). He [Rabbi
Yehoshua] said: ‘I feel sure that this one w ill be a teacher
in Israel. I sw ear that I w ill not budge from here before I
ransom him, w hatever price may be demanded.’ It is
reported that he did not leave the spot before he had
ransomed him at a high figure, nor did many days pass
before he became a teacher in Israel. W ho w as he? – He
w as Rabbi Yishmael ben Elisha.”
[12]. Jerusalem Talmud, Pesaĥim 6:3: “Rabbi Akiva studied for
thirteen years w ith Rabbi Eliezer and he [Rabbi Eliezer]
w ould not recognize him (i.e., his greatness). That day w as
the first time that he [Rabbi Akiva] dared to ask him [Rabbi
Eliezer] a [difficult] question. Said Rabbi Yehoshua: ‘Is not
this the nation you have despised? Go out now and fight
it’’’ (Judges 9:38). (In other w ords: For thirteen years you
did not notice this man; now go and find a suitable answ er
to his question.) See also Mishna Pesaĥim 6; and Sanhedrin
68a.
Chapter five
Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrkanus
Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrkanus, known in his own
lifetime as “Rabbi Eliezer the Great,” was of
distinguished Levite lineage and, according to
tradition, a descendant of Moses (Pesikta deRav
Kahana 40:1). Nevertheless, in his youth it was not
at all clear that he would live up to his great
lineage. His family, one of the wealthiest in Judea,
was not particularly interested in Torah scholarship
and assigned him to work on the family estate. At
a fairly mature age, he expressed his desire to
study Torah, but was not granted the opportunity.
The turning point came in the wake of an accident.
While plowing his field on his own, as was
customary for landowners and members of their
families in those days, the ox’s leg suddenly broke.
On an impulse, he decided not to return home and
apologize to his father for the incident, but to leave
everything and go up to Jerusalem to devote
himself to serious Torah study.[1]
In Jerusalem, Rabbi Eliezer very soon
became a student of Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai.
He had no means of subsistence at the time. Since
he was, however, very proud and filled with the
desire to learn – two elements that remained the
dominant characteristics of his personality – he
practiced a sort of double deception: in the hostel
where he lived it was assumed that he ate at the
house of his teacher, while at the teacher’s house it
was assumed that he ate at the hostel. In the
meantime, he had no food at all. This went on
until Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, who had a
discerning eye, discovered that his student
survived by eating clods of earth; thereafter he
paid close attention to him.
At a later stage, he even arranged to
reconcile Rabbi Eliezer and his family. Hyrkanus,
Rabbi Eliezer’s father, came to Jerusalem intending
to disinherit his son. Rabban Yoĥanan invited him
to a festive meal with all the outstanding
personalities of the time. The father, while
important in his own sphere, was disconcerted in
the presence of the wealthy Jerusalemites and the
leading scholars. Then Rabban Yoĥanan invited his
protégé, Rabbi Eliezer, to speak before the
assembled dignitaries. Hyrkanus was so moved
that he not only made up with his son, but actually
wanted to designate him sole heir. Rabbi Eliezer
was not willing to accept a larger portion than his
brothers. However, now that relations within the
family were mended, Rabbi Eliezer could pursue
his studies in financial comfort, which he continued
to enjoy throughout his life.
From that moment, Rabbi Eliezer immersed
himself totally in the world of Torah and
apparently was never engaged, or interested, in
anything else. Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai
described his phenomenal memory as a “plastered
cistern, which does not lose a single drop [of the
water stored within it].” After listing the merits of
his pupils, Rabban Yoĥanan added that if all the
sages of Israel were weighted against Rabbi
Eliezer, Rabbi Eliezer would outweigh them all
(Pirkei Avot 2:11). In addition to his great regard
for his remarkable disciple, Rabban Yoĥanan was
also deeply attached to him. It was Rabbi Eliezer –
along with his friend and halakhic opponent Rabbi
Yehoshua – who smuggled Rabban Yoĥanan out
of besieged Jerusalem in a coffin (Gittin 56a), and
who supported him through all the upheavals of
those troubled times.
Although he was like a “plastered cistern,”
and despite his unreserved loyalty to the teachings
of his mentors (see Sukka 28a) – which was one of
his defining qualities – Rabbi Eliezer was
temperamentally inclined towards Beit Shammai.
He zealously believed in the integrity of ideas and
was unable to reach a compromise of any kind.
Just as he studied Torah uncompromisingly and
without distraction, even in hunger and need, so
too was his teaching intense, unreceptive to open
debate, closed to other opinions. These
characteristics were the very mark of his person, as
it was to be etched in the memory of future
generations: a great, albeit controversial, figure.
Rabbi Eliezer was particularly diligent in his
preservation of those halakhic traditions which he
received from his teachers. Not only did he refrain
from speculating on his teachers’ methods, but he
would not depart an iota from the literal form of
their sayings, as he had heard them. The Talmud
recounts several stories that verge on the comic,
regarding Rabbi Eliezer’s stubborn refusal to
answer questions for which he had no clear
precedent to draw from. Once, when Rabbi Eliezer
was a guest in a Sukka on Shabbat (Sukka 27b),
he was asked whether it was permitted to spread a
covering over the Sukka in order to provide shade.
Rabbi Eliezer had no tradition on this issue, and
instead of offering his own opinion, he quoted his
teachers on another subject: “There is not a tribe
in Israel which did not produce a Judge.” When he
was asked again, he replied with yet another
quotation: “There is not a tribe in Israel from
which there did not come prophets, and the tribes
of Judah and Benjamin appointed their kings at the
behest of the prophets.” On the following page
(ibid., 28a) we find another similar incident; and
when pressed to explain why he would not address
the issue personally, but rather only relate the
sayings of others, Rabbi Eliezer responded
apologetically: “You have forced me to say
something which I have not heard from my
teachers…I have never in my life said a thing
which I did not hear from my teachers.”
In Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai’s portrayal of
his students, Rabbi Eliezer is described as a
“plastered cistern,” as opposed to Rabbi Elazar ben
Arakh, who is likened to a “spring that ever
bubbles forth” (Pirkei Avot 2:11). Rabbi Eliezer is
the great conservator, the unwavering guardian of
ancient tradition, consistently, fiercely, and
unrelentingly.
While Rabbi Eliezer was a supporter of Beit
Shammai, surprisingly, his closest partnerships
were with members of Beit Hillel. He was an
eminent disciple of Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai,
the great leader of Beit Hillel, and was related to
the Nasi’s dynasty, being married to the sister of
Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh. These ties, however,
did not prevent him from maintaining his opinions
and his particular approach to halakha. His
uncompromising stand on his principles ultimately
led to the tragic event which left its deep
impression on future generations.
The incident – known as “The oven of
Akhnai” – began with a rather mundane halakhic
question that was brought to the beit midrash: Can
a certain type of oven become ritually impure? The
discussion, which, like all others, should have
ended with a practical decision, turned into an
event which shook the entire generation, because
Rabbi Eliezer persisted in his minority opinion,
against the ruling of the majority.
For a sage to express a minority opinion was
not unusual. In various controversies, sages would
sometimes express majority opinions, and at other
times would be in the minority. Even when the
ruling went against the opinion of a particular
individual, he was not required to change his
mind. He was, however, obligated to acquiesce to
the halakhic ruling of the majority. Rabbi Eliezer,
contrary to general practice, continued to insist on
his opinion and did not accept the halakhic ruling
even after the majority had decided against him.
His assumption that he was incapable of error was
probably based on his absolute, clear perspective
that left no room for surrender or compromise.
This is how the event developed:
There is a difference of opinion regarding an
oven: If someone cut an earthenware oven
horizontally into ring-shaped pieces, and then
reconstructed it and put sand between the
pieces, afterwards spreading clay on the oven
to join the pieces together, Rabbi Eliezer
declares the resulting oven ritually pure – i.e.,
not susceptible to ritual impurity…. The sages,
on the other hand, declared it to be
sufficiently reconstructed to be subject to
ritual impurity…such an oven was called “the
oven of Akhnai.” The details of the dispute
were taught in the following baraita: On that
day, Rabbi Eliezer used all the arguments in
the world; but the sages did not accept his
arguments. After Rabbi Eliezer saw that he
was not able to persuade his colleagues with
logical arguments, he said to them: “If the
halakha is in accordance with me, let this
carob tree prove it.” The carob tree
immediately uprooted itself and moved one
hundred cubits – and some say four hundred
cubits – from its original place. The sages said
to him: “Proof cannot be brought from a
carob tree.” Rabbi Eliezer then said to the
sages: “If the halakha is in accordance with
me, let the channel of water prove it.” The
channel of water immediately flowed
backward, against the direction in which it
usually flowed. The sages said to him: “Proof
cannot be brought from a channel of water
either.” Rabbi Eliezer then said to the sages:
“If the halakha is in accordance with me, let
the walls of the beit midrash prove it.” The
walls of the beit midrash then leaned and
were about to fall. Rabbi Yehoshua rebuked
the falling walls, saying to them: “If Talmudic
scholars argue with one another about the
halakha, what affair is it of yours?” The walls
did not fall down, out of respect for Rabbi
Yehoshua, nor did they straighten, out of
respect for Rabbi Eliezer, and indeed those
walls still remain leaning to this day. Rabbi
Eliezer then said to the sages: “If the halakha
is in accordance with me, let it be proved
directly from Heaven.” Suddenly, a Heavenly
voice went forth and said to the sages: “Why
are you disputing with Rabbi Eliezer? The
halakha is in accordance with him in all
circumstances!” Rabbi Yehoshua rose to his
feet and quoted a portion of a verse
(Deuteronomy 30:12) saying: “The Torah is
not in Heaven.” Rabbi Yirmiya explained:
Once God already gave the Torah to the Jews
on Mount Sinai, we no longer pay attention to
heavenly voices that attempt to intervene in
matters of halakha; for You, God, already
wrote in the Torah at Mount Sinai (Exodus
23:2): ‘After the majority to incline.’ From this
we learn that halakhic disputes must be
resolved by majority vote of the Rabbis. God
could not contradict His own decision to allow
Torah questions to be decided by free debate
and majority vote.” Generations later, Rabbi
Natan met the Prophet Elijah, and asked him
about the debate between Rabbi Eliezer and
Rabbi Yehoshua. He said to him: “What did
the Holy One, blessed be He, do at that time
when Rabbi Yehoshua refused to heed the
heavenly voice?” In reply, Elijah said to Rabbi
Natan: “God smiled and said: ‘My sons have
defeated me, My sons have defeated me.’”
[Bava Metzia 59a–b, Steinsaltz edition]
A strange and embarrassing situation resulted:
Rabbi Eliezer, an outstanding sage of the
generation, universally admired by contemporaries
who designated him “the Great” in his lifetime, was
excommunicated. Rabban Gamliel, Rabbi Eliezer’s
brother-in-law and the leader of the
excommunicators, had no alternative but to prefer
the principle of halakhic authority and halakhic
determination over the individualism of Rabbi
Eliezer. This was a critical juncture in terms of the
halakhic conception.
This event was the beginning of a great and
prolonged human tragedy. For many years – in
fact, up to the day of his death – Rabbi Eliezer
would not compromise his opinion. Although the
excommunication did not prohibit engaging in
halakhic discussions with him, it did prevent Rabbi
Eliezer from entering the beit midrash, and visitors
were obliged, by decree, to keep a distance of four
cubits from him. Since his students and friends felt
awkward when they were with him, there were
fewer and fewer visits, and Rabbi Eliezer became
more and more isolated.
At the time of his death, which was a
particularly distressing scene,[2] Rabbi Eliezer
said: “Woe to you, two arms of mine, that have
been like two Scrolls of the Law that are wound
[now, and will never be reopened]. Much Torah
have I studied, and much have I taught. Much
Torah have I learnt, yet I have but skimmed from
the knowledge of my teachers as a dog laps from
the sea…much Torah have I taught, yet my
disciples have only drawn from me as little as a
paintbrush from its tube.” Rabbi Eliezer felt like a
Torah scroll that had never been read. He
contained within himself the entire scope of Jewish
tradition, but found himself apart and alone,
unable to transmit his knowledge to others.
Rabbi Eliezer needed students to draw from
him. Yet he felt that he had not conveyed even a
fraction of all that he had to give. Even Rabbi
Akiva, his beloved disciple, who was close to him
in many ways and who, according to Rabbi Eliezer,
was the only one capable of raising questions in
fields that no one else even considered,[3] did not
come and did not ask. The frustration of the man,
who felt that he was a repository of Jewish
wisdom which he could not transmit, is part of the
anguish associated with the personality of Rabbi
Eliezer. He is the lonely man whose principles
made him powerless to influence others.
Rabbi Eliezer’s seclusion is reflected in the
parallel isolation of his halakhic method. In the
many disputes between Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi
Yehoshua ben Ĥanania, his partner in study and
opponent in debates, halakha was almost always
decided against Rabbi Eliezer. Rabbi Yehoshua,
along with most of his colleagues, respected Rabbi
Eliezer and, in spite of everything, regarded him as
the leading sage of the period. Rabbi Eliezer’s
isolation was therefore perceived not only as a
personal mishap, but as a disaster of the
generation, whose preeminent scholar had been
ostracized.
Rabbi Eliezer’s greatness was multifaceted
and not confined to a narrow and specific sphere.
He was passionate about the preservation of
tradition and resolute about principles, yet his
scope of interest included almost every area and
subject of Torah study. He had absolute mastery
over halakha, aggada, the exoteric, and the
esoteric. When Rabbi Eliezer’s colleagues and
students came to visit him on his sickbed
(Sanhedrin 101a), they praised Rabbi Eliezer –
who was, after all, their contemporary – in
adulatory terms usually reserved for eulogies:
“You are more beneficial to Israel than the rain,”
“You are more beneficial to Israel than the sun.” A
midrash relates that Rabbi Yehoshua kissed the
stone upon which Rabbi Eliezer had been seated,
saying: “This stone is like Mount Sinai, and he who
sat upon it like the Ark of the Covenant” (Shir
HaShirim Raba, chapter beginning “The scent of
your oils”).
It is no coincidence that the tradition of Rabbi
Eliezer’s descent from Moses was preserved. Like
Moses, Rabbi Eliezer was an all-encompassing
personality who embraced the entire Torah, of all
generations. Because he approached the Torah as
something whole, flawless, and sublime, he
believed that it ought not to be touched, altered,
or overly debated, since assertions and arguments
only spoil and corrupt the perfect, pure tradition of
the Torah itself. [4] This is the source of the great
admiration for Rabbi Eliezer: the man who is
virtually identified with the Torah to the point of
becoming one with it.
There is a tradition that in this world, the
halakha is according to Rabbi Yehoshua, but that
in the world to come, the halakha will be according
to Rabbi Eliezer. Rabbi Yehoshua’s approach is
pragmatic and humane, suited to this world. But
the Torah in its perfection and purity, as it will be
realized only at the end of days after the coming of
the Messiah, is expressed by Rabbi Eliezer the
Great.
[1]. For a description of Rabbi Eliezer’s first experiences see:
Pirkei deRabbi Eliezer chapter 1, paragraph 2; Bereshit Raba
42; Midrash Tanĥuma (Buber edition) on the w eekly portion
of Lekh Lekha, 10; Avot deRabbi Natan 6.
[2]. Sanhedrin 68a describes his last w ords and the annulment
of the ban.
[3]. Ibid.: “Moreover, I have studied three hundred (or, as
others state, three thousand) law s about planting
cucumbers [by magic], and no man, excepting Akiva ben
Yosef, ever questioned me thereon.”
[4]. Mishna, Nega’im 9:3: “Rabbi Yehuda ben Batira said [to
Rabbi Eliezer]: ‘I w ould submit argument on it.’ The other
replied: ‘If you w ould thereby confirm the ruling of the
sages w ell and good’. ” Rabbi Ovadia of Bertinoro, the
medieval commentator, adds: “If you find reason to support
the ruling of the sages… – say it; [but do not say anything
to the opposite effect], for I w ill not lay aside w hat I have
received from my masters and listen to you.”
Chapter six
Elisha ben Avuya
Elisha ben Avuya, known in Talmudic literature as
“Aĥer” (literally, “The Other”) was in many
respects the tragedy of the Mishnaic sages. Among
the most important sages of his day, an influential
personality deeply involved in the Jewish world
and recognized for his independent scholarship,
Elisha ben Avuya crossed the bounds and betrayed
the Jewish community in more than one sense.
The defection of such an individual from the
innermost core of the Jewish people left a deep
scar within Jewish tradition.
How can we begin to understand this
personality? How can we understand what befell
this great man who ceased to be a Jewish leader?
These questions vexed his contemporaries and
close acquaintances and continued to occupy the
thinking of succeeding generations long after his
death.
From the story of his birth, as retold by
Elisha himself, it is clear that from the outset his
personality was not of one piece.[1] Elisha was
born in Jerusalem and raised in a family that was,
at least by the standards of the time, partially
assimilated. He described how his circumcision
was celebrated: there was feasting and merriment,
including dancing alien to Jewish culture, as well
as an assembly of guests totally disinterested in
the religious significance of the celebration.
Because of the Jewish origins of the occasion,
some of the sages were invited, and while the
company caroused, they sat in another room and
studied Torah. This apparently left such a strong
impression on Avuya, the father, that he changed
his plan for his son’s way of life: rather than
commit him to the family business, he dedicated
Elisha to the study of Torah. In any event, it is
clear that Elisha ben Avuya’s environment did not
draw solely from Jewish culture.
Elisha’s interest in Greek culture, as described
in the Talmud [2] was part of the dual education
that he received. On the one hand, he was a
scholar, studying Torah in the beit midrash, and
on the other, he was a student of classical Greek
culture. It seems that at no point was he able to
completely renounce either Judaism or Greek
erudition. He did, however, dedicate a substantial
portion of his life to the world of Torah, which
occupied most of his interest. He eventually
became a leading scholar and a sharp halakhist
who was involved in other areas of Jewish life as
well.
Elisha’s breaking point is described in the
Talmud as a double crisis: internal and external
collapse, a combination which led him to desert
the Jewish world. His internal crisis was one of
faith. He was one of the four who “entered the
Orchard,”[3] whose mystical experiences and
teachings became part of Jewish tradition.
However, only the greatest and most mature of the
four, Rabbi Akiva – who apparently served as their
guide – entered and left the Orchard intact. Two of
the others collapsed, physically or mentally, while
Elisha suffered a spiritual breakdown. Elisha came
to accept, in some form, the fundamental tenets of
Greek Gnosis and of the assimilated Jews who
were associated with it. These theories, flourishing
in the Near East as part of the mystical culture of
the area, perceived the world as subject to two
authorities: the Good, which was mostly passive,
and another, lower authority, connected with this
world, with the powers that rule it, and with
evil.[4]
Elisha’s inner crisis was exacerbated by the
external crises of the era: the destruction of the
Temple, the failure of the Great Revolt, the
ensuing national and political collapse of the
Jewish people, and the frequent edicts that forbade
Torah study and observance of the
commandments. The Talmud relates ( Kiddushin
39b) that one of the factors that pushed Elisha out
of the fold was the spectacle of a pig dragging the
tongue of Ĥutzpit the Interpreter. [5] brutally
murdered by the Romans. This trauma – the sight
of human beings, particularly fellow Jews, broken
by the might of Rome – ran parallel to Elisha’s
crisis of faith. It tipped the scales in favor of a
perception of the world as ruled by evil
triumphant. It was ostensibly proof that even if a
Supreme Power existed, it was too distant to
interfere in man’s affairs. Elisha, with all the
hesitations and divisions in his soul, took the step
of opting for the force which rules this world de
facto.
For a certain period thereafter, Elisha fully
identified with the outside world. At that time,
racism did not exist. The distinction between Jew
and non-Jew was primarily cultural, and Elisha was
therefore able, at least temporarily, to move
completely into that other world. He worked
against the Jewish community and the sages,[6]
even collaborating with the Roman authorities.[7]
And he gave free rein to all his material desires:
women, money, and other temptations. The
Talmud ( Hagiga 15a) relates that a certain
prostitute, solicited by Elisha, asked him: “Are you
not Elisha?” After he convinced her that he no
longer behaved as a Jewish scholar, she said: “It is
another Aĥer.” The name stuck. He is no longer
Elisha, he is no longer the man he was; he is
another.
In spite of all the explanations offered for his
conduct, the character of Elisha ben Avuya
continued to perplex the sages deeply: How could
a man who had imbibed so much Torah veer off
on a path so strange and alien?
The problematic of Elisha’s personality lay
not only in his deviation, but in the fact that he
himself was apparently miserable with his choice.
His student Rabbi Meir understood this; thus he
was the only scholar who did not shun Elisha. He
repeatedly pleaded with Elisha to repent, because
Elisha seemed neither content nor secure in the
new life he had chosen. Elisha had been miserable
in the world of Torah study, because he had felt
that evil triumphed in this world. But in the other
alien world into which he had sunk, he was not at
peace either. Again and again he fraternized with
Jews, over and over he became involved in Jewish
affairs (ibid., 15a–b) – which, after all, constituted
most of his spiritual life. He remained a great
Torah scholar, capable of teaching, and Rabbi
Meir, walking alongside Elisha, who was astride his
horse on Shabbat,[8] could still learn Torah in
many varied areas from him.
Although at first Elisha attempted to destroy
the Jewish world, later on he considered himself a
failure. Rabbi Akiva had been killed, the Great
Revolt against Rome had failed; nonetheless,
Elisha ben Avuya did not feel, then, that the Evil
One was winning. Outwardly, he would attack
Rabbi Meir, who was among the youngest of Rabbi
Akiva’s disciples: “Rabbi Akiva your teacher did not
say this, Rabbi Akiva your teacher did not say that”
(Hagiga 15a; Jerusalem Talmud, Hagiga 2:1). But
inwardly he was preoccupied with his tragic
inability to repent. Elisha ben Avuya had been too
profoundly entrenched in the Jewish world for his
return to be a simple matter, and at the same time
he had immersed himself too deeply in that other
world to be able to extricate himself.
Initially, Elisha not only destroyed himself; he
also tried to influence others to desert Judaism for
what, at the time, seemed to be the pervasive
culture of a new world. Later on, he regarded
himself as not merely a private sinner, but as a
wrongdoer who had led others to transgress and
was, therefore, unworthy of pardon.[9] He felt that
even if the way of repentance is open for the rest
of the world, for one who knew as much as he did,
and yet sinned as much as he did, there was no
way back.
Elisha ben Avuya died alone without a single
student to carry on his teaching. He disappeared
from the stage, leaving the anguish and the riddle
of his life for future generations. He did, however,
have descendants. It is told that his daughters
came to Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi (“Rebbi”) to receive
charity. Rebbi deliberated over whether to receive
or rebuff them; finally he burst into tears and
decreed that they receive support from public
funds, thus effectively reinstating them in the
Jewish community. [10] Rabbi Yaakov, Elisha’s
grandson, a sage of the Mishnaic period, was quite
different from Elisha. A clear thinker, he perceived
a perfect, spiritual, and pure world, and was not
tormented by the problems of this life.[11]
Elisha did leave behind his Torah teachings.
The question of how to relate to them was a basic
problem that engaged scholars for generations.
Ultimately, they adopted the position expressed by
Elisha’s daughter to Rebbi: “Remember his
teachings, not his deeds” (Jerusalem Talmud,
Hagiga 2:1). Thus in Pirkei Avot (4:20) we find
reference to Elisha’s statements, and in Avot
deRabbi Natan an entire chapter (chapter 24) is
devoted to his wisdom and ethical sayings.
In death, too, as in life, Elisha ben Avuya was
tom between two worlds. He could not be
condemned to Hell because of his stature as a
scholar; nor could he enter the Garden of Eden
because he was so great a sinner. The Talmud
relates how his disciple, Rabbi Meir, begged that
he be condemned to all the punishments of Hell
that he deserved, so that at the end he might be
granted purification (of the soul) (Hagiga 15b).
Rabbi Meir said: “When will I die and the smoke
arise from his tomb (as an indication that he was
indeed being judged in Hell)?” When Rabbi Meir
died, smoke did rise from Elisha’s tomb. But this
was not the end, for the smoke continued to rise,
indicating that he had not yet emerged from Hell,
since such a deep betrayal could not be expiated.
That smoke continued to disturb the peace of the
living until, several generations later, Rabbi
Yoĥanan said: “Is it heroism to burn one’s
teacher? There was one (Aĥer)[12] among us (the
sages) and he went astray. Can we not save him?”
Rabbi Yoĥanan added: “When will I die and
extinguish the smoke from his tomb (to show that
he has been taken out of Hell and brought to life in
the world to come)?” And indeed, when Rabbi
Yoĥanan died, the smoke ceased to rise from
Aĥer’s tomb (Hagiga 15b).
Another, quite poetic, description is found in
the Jerusalem Talmud ( Hagiga 2:1). Told that
Elisha’s grave was on fire, Rabbi Meir went to the
burning tomb, spread his tallit upon it and recited
the verses that Bo’az had said to Ruth (Ruth 3:13):
“Remain this night, and in the morning, if he will
redeem you, it is good. But if he is not willing to
redeem you, then as the Lord lives, I will do so.
Lie here until the morning.” Rabbi Meir interpreted
the verses thus: “If He redeems you, good – this is
God who is called ‘good.’ If He will redeem you by
the power of judgment and justice – it is good. If
not, ‘I will do so, as the Lord lives, lie till the
morning,’ that is, the time of redemption.”
Elisha’s statement in Pirkei Avot – “To what
may we liken one who studies Torah as a child?
To ink written on a clean page; and to what may
we liken one who studies Torah as an old man? To
ink written on an erased page” – is characteristic of
his personality. Originality was fundamental to his
worldview: everything he learned was like new ink
inscribed on a fresh sheet. The material appearing
in his name in Avot deRabbi Natan is an expansion
of this same idea: the importance of the Torah
being studied and internalized in a new and fresh
way.
This notion partially explains the tendency of
Elisha’s early years to seek out the original and the
new, as well as his subsequent reluctance, after
having expunged what he knew, to write again on
an already used sheet. He felt that he could not
rewrite the things that he knew, because he no
longer possessed the primal freshness of one who
is expressing new things and taking part in
innovation. For him, that which was broken could
never be completely restored to its original state.
Thus Elisha ben Avuya could not repent; he
was not capable of writing on erased paper. But
his same knowledge, even if he did not record it
himself, was transcribed, perhaps intentionally, in
his name. Elisha asked Rabbi Meir to interpret the
verse: “Gold and glass cannot equal it” (Job
28:17). Rabbi Meir replied: “These are the words
of the Torah, which are hard to acquire like vessels
of fine gold, but are easily destroyed like vessels of
glass.” And Elisha characteristically replied ( Hagiga
15a): “Rabbi Akiva, your master, did not explain it
thus, but [as follows]: Just as vessels of gold and
vessels of glass, though they be broken, have a
remedy, even so a scholar, though he has sinned,
has a remedy.” For vessels of gold and of glass
have one thing in common: when they break, they
can be recast into forms that would be just as
gorgeous as the original ones.
[1]. Jerusalem Talmud, Hagiga, 2:1: “And thus it is told [by
Elisha himself]: My father Avuya w as one of the richest men
of Jerusalem. W hen he came to circumcise me he invited all
the rich men of Jerusalem and seated them in one room,
and Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua in another. Out of
their eating and drinking, they [the rich ones] began
clapping hands and dancing. Rabbi Eliezer said to Rabbi
Yehoshua: ‘They are doing as they do, let us do as w e do.’
So they delved into the Torah; from the Torah they w ent
on to study the Prophets, and from there to study the
W ritings (the section of the tradition that includes Psalms,
Ecclesiastes, Proverbs, Job, the Book of Chronicles, the five
Scrolls, and the books of Daniel, Ezra, and Nehemiah). And
fire came dow n from heaven and surrounded them. Said
Avuya: ‘Gentlemen, have you come to burn my house upon
me?’ They replied: ‘Heaven forbid! We w ere roaming w ithin
the w ords of the Torah; from there w e w ent to the
Prophets and thereafter to the W ritings, and w hat w e
studied w as as joyous and gladdening as w hen it w as
received on Mount Sinai, and they w ere on fire, just as
they w ere at Sinai. For the beginning [of the giving the
Torah] on Sinai w as by fire [as it says, Deuteronomy 4:11]:
“And the mountain burned w ith fire unto the heart of
heaven.” Said Father Avuya: ‘Gentlemen, if this is the
pow er of Torah, if this boy lives, I w ill dedicate him to the
Torah.’ Since his intention w as not for the sake of heaven
(i.e., pure or altruistic) it w as not carried out in this man
(Elisha).”
[2]. Hagiga 15b: “W ho is Aĥer? Greek song did not cease from
his mouth. It is told of Aĥer that w hen he used to rise [to
go from] the beit midrash , many heretical books used to fall
from his lap.”
[3]. Hagiga 14b describes, in rather veiled terms, a pow erful
mystical experience that w as shared by the four sages:
“Our Rabbis taught: Four men entered the ‘Orchard,’
namely, ben Azzai, ben Zoma, Aĥer, and Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi
Akiva said to them: ‘W hen you arrive at the stones of pure
marble, say not, W ater, w ater, for it is said: “He that speaks
falsehood shall not be established before mine eyes”’
(Psalms 101:7). Ben Azzai cast a look and died. Of him
Scripture says: ‘Precious in the sight of the Lord is the
death of His saints’ (Psalms 116:15). Ben Zoma looked and
became demented. Of him Scripture says: ‘Have you found
honey? Eat so much as is sufficient for you, lest you be
filled therew ith, and vomit it’ (Proverbs 25:16). Aĥer
mutilated the shoots. Rabbi Akiva departed unhurt.”
[4]. Hagiga 15a: “Aĥer mutilated the shoots. Of him Scripture
says: ‘Do not allow your mouth to bring your flesh into guilt’
(Ecclesiastes 5:5). W hat does it refer to? He saw that
permission w as granted to Metatron (one of the highest
Angels) to sit and w rite dow n the merits of Israel. Said he:
‘It is taught as a tradition that in Heaven there is no sitting
(namely: no effort and no rest) and no emulation (rivalry)
and no back (because angels have faces in all directions)
and no w eariness (or: no injunction). Perhaps – God
forfend! – there are tw o authorities.’”
[5]. The Interpreter w as a person w ho stood next to the sage
w ho w as teaching Torah, and w ould explain and sometimes
also translate into the local Aramaic dialect the sayings of
that sage. To be able to do so, the Interpreter had to be
greatly learned.
[6]. Jerusalem Talmud, Hagiga 2:1: “Aĥer mutilated the shoots.
W ho is Aĥer? It is Elisha ben Avuya w ho killed the
outgrow ths of Torah. It is told, that w henever he w ould
see a scholar w ho w as successful in Torah learning, he
w ould kill him. Furthermore, w hen he w ould enter into the
beit midrash and w ould see children sitting in front of their
teacher [and studying the Torah], he w ould say to them
‘W hat are you sitting here for? This one’s trade is a builder,
that one should be a carpenter, this one – a hunter, that
one – a tailor.’ Once the children w ould hear him, they
w ould leave their teacher and go.”
[7]. Ibid.: “At the time of anti-religious decrees [against the
Jew s], they [the Romans] w ould give Jew s heavy loads [to
carry on the Sabbath]. They [the Jew s] tried to circumvent
this decree by doing the w ork of one person by tw o
people [and thus not to violate the Sabbath]. So he
[Elisha] told the Romans: ‘Put the load on them individually,’
and they did. They [the Jew s] then devised another w ay
of circumventing the decree by unloading the burden in
the Carmelit [an area w hich w as neither public nor private
domain, and then loading it again and carrying it further,
and thus not violate the Sabbath]. So he [Elisha] told the
Romans: ‘Give them fragile utensils to carry [so that they
w ill not be able to load and unload them],’ and the Romans
did so.”
[8]. It is forbidden to ride a beast of burden on the Sabbath.
[9]. Hagiga 15a–b: “Once Aĥer w as riding on a horse on the
Sabbath, and Rabbi Meir w as w alking behind him to learn
Torah at his mouth. Said [Aĥer] to him: ‘Meir, turn back, for
I have already measured by the paces of my horse that
thus far extends the Shabbat boundaries.’ He replied: ‘You,
too, go back!’ [Aĥer] answ ered: ‘Have I not already told
you that I have already heard from behind the Veil
(Jeremiah 3:14, 22): Return you backsliding children –
except Aĥer’.”
[10]. Jerusalem Talmud, Hagiga 2:1: “Some time later his
daughters came to receive charity from Rebbi. He decreed:
‘He shall not receive grace nor shall there be pity for his
orphans’ (Psalms 109:12). They said: ‘Rebbi, do not look on
his deeds, look on his (Torah) learning.’ At that moment he
broke into w eeping and decreed that they should receive
support.”
[11]. Kiddushin 39b: “Rava said: This is according to Rabbi
Yaakov, w ho said: There is no rew ard for [keeping] the
mitzvot (precepts) in this w orld. For it is taught: Rabbi
Yaakov said: There is not a single mitzva in the Torah
w hose rew ard is [stated] at its side w hich is not dependent
on the resurrection of the dead. [Thus], in connection w ith
honoring parents, it is w ritten, ‘That your days may be
prolonged and that it may go w ell w ith you’ (Deuteronomy
5:16). In reference to the dismissal of the nest (ibid., 22:6–
7) it is w ritten, ‘that it may be w ell w ith you, and that you
may prolong your days.’ Now , if one’s father said to him,
‘Ascend to the loft and bring me young birds,’ and he
ascends to the loft, dismisses the mother-bird and takes
the young, and on his return falls and is killed – w here is
this man’s happiness, and w here is this man’s prolonging of
days? But ‘in order that it may be w ell w ith you’ means on
the day that is w holly good; and ‘in order that your days
may be long’ [means] on the day that is w holly long (i.e., in
the w orld to come).” And in the Jerusalem Talmud, Hagiga
2:1, w e read: “The follow ing day [Aĥer] saw a man climb to
the top of a palm tree and take the young from the nest
and send the mother aw ay; upon his descent, a snake bit
him and he died. He [Aĥer] said. ‘It is w ritten: “You shall
send the mother…that it may go w ell w ith you and that
your days may be prolonged.” W here is the w ell-being of
this one and w here is his long life?’ And he did not know
that Rabbi Yaakov w ould interpret it [differently].”
[12]. There is a play on w ords here: “one” in Hebrew is Eĥad
( )אחד, a w ord w hich in print looks almost exactly like Aĥer
( )אח ר.
Chapter seven
Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi (“Rebbi”)
Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi was known affectionately
both to his students and to subsequent generations
as “Rebbi.” The Talmud states: “From Moses to
Rebbi, we do not find another who was supreme
both in Torah and in worldly affairs” ( Gittin 59a).
Other than Moses and Rebbi, no single individual
exercised such wide political powers while serving
as the most important scholarly and spiritual figure
of his generation. Usually, political and spiritual
leadership were divided between two different
people, with possible conflicting interests. In the
very few cases in which the domains were
consolidated, the leader overshadowed everyone
else in his generation.
Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi lived in the generation
after the Great Revolt and the harsh Roman
decrees that followed. The revolt and the “edicts of
persecution,” as they are referred to in the
Talmud, left Judea completely desolate; a long
period of recovery was required to reconstruct
Jewish settlement and Jewish culture in another
region. In fact, it was not until Rebbi’s time that
the Jewish population of the Galilee became strong
enough to produce Torah scholars once more.
The state of Jewish settlement and Rebbi’s
own status improved greatly, thanks to his
excellent relations with the Roman authorities. The
Talmud contains many homiletic tales [1] of the
complex relationship between Rebbi and the
Caesar, known in Talmudic literature as
Antoninus.[2] Antoninus not only maintained a
close personal friendship with Rebbi; it seems that
he appreciated Rebbi’s spiritual role, and that he
himself sought some connection to Jewish
values.[3] This special relationship between the
Nasi of the Sanhedrin and the Roman Caesar
generated a period of tranquillity. In addition, the
status of Nasi, which had been greatly weakened
within and without the Jewish community in
previous generations, was now strengthened in a
way never again to be matched. Because of his
great Torah learning, his wisdom, and his unique
political status, Rebbi enjoyed unparalleled power.
Rebbi’s special stature stemmed both from
historic circumstances and from his own
personality. In his own lifetime he was already
accorded the title “our holy Rabbi” (Shabbat 118b,
Sanhedrin 98b). Despite his great wealth[4] and
the external trappings of splendor and authority,
he himself lived a life of modesty and asceticism.
His fasts and the physical agony he suffered for
many years[5] stood in marked contrast to the
bounty prevalent on his table and at his court. The
Talmud relates that “at the time of his passing,
[Rebbi] raised his ten fingers towards Heaven and
said: ‘Sovereign of the Universe, You know that I
have labored in the study of the Torah with my ten
fingers, and that I did not enjoy [any worldly]
benefits even with my little finger’” (Ketubot 104a).
These characteristics, which were publicly known,
added a dimension of esteem to his personality.
His contemporaries, even his seniors, accepted his
authority not only because of his position, but also
in recognition of his unique character. As one of
his pupils, Rav, said: “If he [namely, the Messiah]
is of the living, it would be our holy Master”
(Sanhedrin 98b). Indeed, Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi
was called “Rebbi,” without the addition of his
name, for good reason: He was the rabbi, not of a
particular student or sage, but of an entire
generation, as well as a key figure in Jewish
history. His historic importance resulted in
particular from his monumental undertaking: the
compilation of the Mishna.
The magnitude of Rebbi’s work in compiling
the Mishna can only be understood against the
background of Jewish tradition in the preceding
generations. For hundreds and thousands of years,
the Oral Torah (as the name implies) had
consisted of verbal transmission of the tradition
from master to student, with nothing committed to
writing. The tradition passed from one beit
midrash to another, which from generation to
generation changed their character and methods of
study. One element, however, remained stable
throughout: the tradition was oral, not written. It
is true that in earlier times, and even during the
Temple period, Torah scholars would make
mnemonic notes for themselves, but these were no
more than shorthand comments on unusual events
or decisions which the writers saw fit to record for
posterity. As a rule, the Oral Torah was not written
down. These scrolls, known as “hidden scrolls” and
not meant for public use, were neither studied nor
used for teaching, and were preserved only as the
personal memoranda of individual sages.
Moreover, there was a halakhic ruling to the
effect that “the words which are written, you are
not at liberty to say by heart, and the words
transmitted orally, you are not at liberty to commit
to writing” (Gittin 60b). One reason given for this
was that an oral doctrine enables maximum
flexibility in transmission and interpretation,
whereas a written text is bound to reach, at a
certain stage, a point of ossification beyond which
it cannot be developed. Exposition of a written text
becomes by nature supplemental, while the text
itself is no longer renewed and invigorated. Thus,
alongside the written Torah there coexisted a more
flexible tradition, which conveyed a practical
understanding of the Torah’s basic terms and
concepts and, above all, explained the actual
practice of its commandments. All this had been
transmitted in an ancient chain of tradition
stretching from Moses through the whole list of
sages detailed in Pirkei Avot (chapters 1–2) until
Rebbi’s generation. This heritage was zealously
preserved as an oral tradition, not to be recorded,
not to be petrified.
Despite these and many other considerations,
Rebbi decided that the time had come to change
the method of preserving the Oral Torah by
establishing hard and fast rules for guiding its
interpretation and formulating it in a specific,
clearly defined way that would meet the needs of
the time. Rebbi apparently felt that he had been
granted an exceptional historic opportunity. The
situation in which a single sage headed the major
institution of learning in an era of political and
economic tranquility was not likely to be repeated.
He foresaw that the situation of the Jews would
eventually deteriorate. Rebbi had witnessed or
remembered the end of the period of persecutions
that followed the Great Revolt. His thinking was
probably motivated by apprehension for the fate of
the Oral Torah in another period of calamity.
The Talmud relates how, thanks to the
tremendous effort and self-sacrifice of the last sage
of that generation to receive semikha (ordination),
the chain of semikha was continued for yet another
generation.[6] However, this was a unique, almost
miraculous, event, which made the danger to the
continued existence of the Oral Torah even more
palpable. The continued existence of the Oral
tradition is possible only when there is ongoing
transmission between master and pupil over many
years of study and repetition. Rebbi feared for the
future of Jewish settlement in the Land of Israel
and was concerned lest the Oral Torah be
splintered among different batei midrash and
incompatible traditions. If it would be impossible
to restore unity under such conditions, then the
total rupture of the Oral Torah tradition would be
inevitable. Therefore, and despite the fact that this
would mean undermining its foundations, Rebbi
decided that the time had come to mold the Oral
Torah into a single, fixed, and written framework.
Sages of the previous generation had already
taken steps in that direction. Rabbi Akiva had
apparently gathered various traditions and
organized them in some kind of fixed format.[7]
His disciple, Rabbi Meir, even formulated the
matrix text which served as the basis for the text of
the Mishna.[8] Rebbi took this raw material, which
had been fashioned and collected orally from
var i o u s batei midrash and traditions of the
generations following the Great Revolt – some of
them contradictory, others barely represented –
and cast them into a single mold: the halakha of
the Oral Torah.
The restrictive format of the Mishna could not
hold all the material of the Oral Torah. Not all the
traditions, disputes, and differences in approach
could be represented. It was necessary to omit a
great deal of material, to merge various positions,
and to arrange legal structures and traditions into
uniform expository sequences. The tremendous
enterprise of establishing a format for structuring
conclusive halakha into a Mishna, which was to be
handed down to subsequent generations, entailed
a massive amount of clarification and research.
The different versions and approaches had to be
compared, and a decision had to be made
regarding the normative principle that would
determine the direction of the huge mass of
halakhic rulings. Although it is not clear whether
Rebbi actually committed the Mishna to writing, it
is clear that he produced a record, even if only an
oral one, that is the distillation of an enormous
number of traditions (six or seven hundred Orders
of Mishna, according to the Talmud). This mass of
material had to be reduced to a quantity that could
be memorized by anyone, and which could
henceforth serve as a basic study text. At the same
time, Rebbi continued the tradition of preceding
generations, and the Oral Torah continued to
develop in his day too, both in terms of clarifying
contemporary problems and in terms of what was
later to be called “The Talmud” – the collection of
the discussions and disputes of the sages and
scholars, as they investigated the reasons and
rationales for each opinion and method in
determining the halakha.
Another aspect of Rabbi’s personality, and of
the tradition he established for the future, was his
special attitude towards the Hebrew language. His
home was apparently one of the last in which
Hebrew (as opposed to Aramaic) was the spoken
language of everyday use. It is said that the sages
would go to Rebbi’s maidservant to learn the
meaning of Hebrew words which were no longer
known even by the scholars in the beit midrash.[9]
As part of the tradition he established for future
generations, Rebbi expressed his keen care for
language in the unique phrasing he used in the
Mishna. For in addition to the tremendous task of
clarifying and determining the contents, the editing
of the Mishna entailed the most important work of
phrasing. Incorporating the opinions of various
sages, who had lived in various times and places,
into one unified structure, produced a variety of
linguistic forms in the Mishna, including more
ancient strata of the language – dating back to the
beginning of the Second Temple era – as well as
the different dialects spoken in Jerusalem, Judea,
and the Galilee. Rebbi’s task was to forge a unified
idiom and to determine fixed terminology for the
course of a sugya, as well as set the basic
vocabulary of the halakha, all of which were to
serve for generations. In addition, Rebbi had to
make sure that this system, despite its extreme
terseness, would be precise, comprehensible, and
easy to repeat and memorize.
This enormous enterprise – in terms of both
form and content – was eventually formulated into
a book which, albeit small in quantity, became the
central legal codex of the Jewish people. Some say
that the Mishna is called “Mishna” (lit.,
“secondary”) because it is second only to the
Written Torah, just as the viceroy is second to the
king. Indeed, the relationship between the Torah
and the Mishna has become the main relationship
between the Law of the Written Torah and the
clearly phrased, forged halakha of the Oral Torah.
From Rebbi’s time onward through the Talmudic
era and to this very day, the Mishna has
consistently retained its place. Rebbi’s work has
survived not as a private, temporary enterprise,
but as a work which set the pattern for the Torah
of the Jewish people throughout the ages. The title
“Rebbi,” bestowed on him in his lifetime, therefore
remains valid for all generations to come.
[1]. Sanhedrin 91a–b; Avoda Zara 10a–b, and Tosafot, ibid.;
Jerusalem Talmud: Sanhedrin 10:5, Me g illa 1:11, and
Shevi’it 6 :1 ; Midrash Tanĥuma , “Miketz” 9; Bereshit Raba
11:4; 84:2; 75:5.
[2]. There are different opinions as to the identity of
“Antoninus”; some say it w as Marcus Aurelius, w hile others
claim it w as one of his heirs.
[3]. See Avoda Zara 10b; Jerusalem Talmud, Megilla 1:11.
According to one opinion, he even converted to Judaism
and had himself circumcised.
[4]. Bava Metzia 85b, Steinsaltz edition: “The stable master in
Rebbi’s house w as w ealthier than King Shapur of Persia –
because Rebbi ow ned so much cattle, that his stable
manager became exceedingly rich by selling their manure.”
See also Berakhot 27b, 43a; Shabbat 52a, 121b, and 122a;
and elsew here.
[5]. Bava Metzia 85a, Steinsaltz edition: “Rebbi concluded:
Suffering is precious. So he w illingly accepted thirteen years
of suffering, six years of contending w ith kidney stones and
seven years w ith scurvy. And some say the reverse, that he
accepted seven years of kidney stones, and six years of
scurvy.”
[6]. Sanhedrin 14a: “Once the w icked government decreed
[as an act of religious persecution] that w hoever performed
an ordination should be put to death, and w hoever
received ordination should be put to death, the city in
w hich the ordination took place demolished and the
[Shabbat] boundaries w herein it had been performed,
uprooted. W hat did Rabbi Yehuda ben Bava do? He w ent
and sat betw een tw o great mountains [that lay] betw een
tw o large cities: betw een the [Shabbat] boundaries of the
cities of Usha and Shefar’am, and there ordained five sages:
Rabbi Meir, Rabbi Yehuda, Rabbi Shimon, Rabbi Yossi, and
Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua. Rav Avia added also Rabbi
Neĥemia in the list. As soon as their enemies discovered
them, he [Rabbi Yehuda ben Bava] urged them: ‘My
children, flee.’ They said to him, ‘W hat w ill become of you,
Rabbi?’ ‘I lie before them like a stone w hich no one [is
concerned to] overturn,’ he replied. It w as said that the
enemy did not stir from the spot until they had driven
three hundred iron spearheads into his body, making it like
a sieve.”
[7]. Avot deRabbi Natan 18: “W hat can Rabbi Akiva be
compared to? He can be likened to a w orker w ho takes his
box and goes outside. If he finds w heat, he puts it there; if
he finds barley, he puts it there; and so he does also w ith
spelt, beans, and lentils. W hen he returns home, he sorts
them, putting w heat separately, barley separately, spelt
separately, beans separately, lentils separately. This is how
Rabbi Akiva sorted out the entire Torah.”
[8]. Sanhedrin 86a: “An anonymous mishna is Rabbi Meir; an
anonymous tosefta, Rabbi Neĥemia; an anonymous [dictum
in the] Sifra, Rabbi Yehuda; in the Sifrei, Rabbi Shimon; and
all are taught according to the view s of Rabbi Akiva.”
[9]. Rosh HaShana 26b: “The Rabbis did not know w hat w as
meant by [the Hebrew w ord] serugin , till one day they
heard the maidservant of Rebbi’s household, on seeing the
Rabbis enter at intervals, say to them: ‘How long are you
going to come in by serugin ?’”
Chapter eight
Rav
Rabbi Abba bar Aivo, known in the Talmud as
“Rav,” is ranked first and foremost among the
Babylonian amoraim.
There were important scholars in Babylonia
prior to him, and an extensive network of Torah-
study frameworks upon which Rav himself drew.
Until Rav’s advent, however, Babylonian
scholarship was regarded as subsidiary to that of
the Land of Israel. Rav’s arrival in Babylonia marks
the beginning of spiritual independence for
Babylonian Jewry, the building of its great yeshivot
and the start of the Babylonian Talmud. While this
magnum opus had many authors throughout the
generations, it might not have come into being at
all – and would surely have been different in scope
– were it not for the contribution of Rav’s
personality and scholarship.
Rav was born in Babylonia, yet he acquired
most of his learning and traditions in the Land of
Israel. In his youth he followed his uncle, Rabbi
Ĥiyya the Great, to the Land of Israel and studied
along with him under Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi
(“Rebbi”). Although among the youngest disciples
in Rebbi’s beit midrash, he was even then one of
the judges in Rebbi’s beit din.[1] He had a
particularly close personal relationship with Rebbi,
as did others of his family who were considered
part of the Nasi’s household.
Rav learned Torah from some of Rebbi’s
colleagues and preeminent disciples as well[2]; in
addition, he received the essence of Babylonian
scholarship from Rabbi Ĥiyya.[3] A Jewish center
had been in existence in Babylonia since the
destruction of the First Temple. As an independent
entity it had, in the course of time, developed its
own study methods. These principles and concepts
were still in embryonic form, and certainly could
not compete with those of the great center in the
Land of Israel. Yet, as unrefined and undefined as
they were, Rabbi Ĥiyya crystallized them and
transmitted them to Rav.
Since Rav’s activity began at the end of the
Mishnaic period, he is considered a transitory
figure between the tannaim and amoraim. The
Babylonian Talmud accepts the assumption
(infrequently mentioned, but always in the
background) that Rav “was a tanna and could
differ” (Eruvin 50b; Ketubot 8a; Gittin 38b; Bava
Batra 42a; Sanhedrin 83b; Ĥulin 122b). In other
words, Rav’s status was beyond that of an amora,
who merely explicates tanna statements, and akin
to that of a tanna, who could dispute statements of
other tannaim and even the Mishna itself. Some
believe that the tanna “Rabbi Abba,” who appears
in several baraitot, is really Rav, referred to by his
true name, Rabbi Abba (Ketubot 81a, and see also
the Arukh, entry “Rav”).
Rav came from a distinguished Babylonian
family, related to the exilarch and tracing its
lineage to the House of David.[4] There were
renowned and important Torah scholars in his
family, such as his father Rabbi Aivo, and his uncle
and teacher Rabbi Ĥiyya the Great. A special
affinity developed between Rav and Rabbi Ĥiyya[5]
who was, through an odd coincidence, the brother
of both his father and his mother (see Sanhedrin
5a). The uncle doted on his nephew and tried to
elevate him above his peers. Rav, for his part,
subsequently defended this uncle’s halakhic
methodology.
With the deaths of Rebbi and Rabbi Ĥiyya,
there was no longer an influential and authoritative
figure in the Land of Israel from whom Rav could
study. A drawn-out personal feud, while essentially
inconsequential, additionally complicated Rav’s
continued residence there.[6] Rav was trapped in
an ambiguous position: for family and other
reasons he could not assume leadership in the
Land of Israel; on the other hand, he was already
too prominent to remain a disciple.
Although Rav was compelled to return to
Babylonia, in retrospect it is clear that the benefit
went far beyond the personal: Rav’s presence was
the seminal factor in Babylonian scholarship.
Worthy of a leadership role in Rebbi’s stead, Rav
settled in a land which lay fallow in the Torah
sense. There he planted what he had already
mastered and developed – a new, unique center.
In Babylonia, Rav encountered circumstances
similar to those he had left behind in the Land of
Israel. Babylonia was not a vacuum either:
important scholars, such as the distinguished
Shmuel and Karna, already lived there, as did Rav
Shela, head of the beit midrash at Neharde’a.[7]
Despite his credentials, Rav chose not to enter into
a confrontation with the local veteran scholars. He
therefore left Neharde’a for Sura, which was near
his birthplace Kafri; and there, where there were
no existing batei midrash, he established one of
his own.
The sages describe Rav’s arrival in Sura thus:
“Rav found an open field and put up a fence
around it” (Eruvin 100b). In other words, Rav
came to a cultural wilderness and constructed a
great and perfect edifice. His beit midrash in Sura
not only became the most important one in
Babylonia at the time, but remained a Torah center
for over eight hundred years, longer than any
other yeshiva. Throughout the Talmudic period
and for generations thereafter – in effect, until the
end of the Geonic period – the Sura yeshiva
continued as one of the two greatest Babylonian
Torah centers. It was the only center that did not
move from its physical location and, to a great
degree, it also remained loyal to its original
methodology.
Unlike the other yeshivot that were more
Babylonian in style, the Sura yeshiva – despite
being an independent Babylonian establishment –
was deeply linked, emotionally and scholastically,
to the Land of Israel. Its methodology was
characterized by a tendency to peshat on one
hand, and to Midrash Aggada and the esoteric on
the other, similar to the dialectic of study in the
Land of Israel.
The final editing of the Talmud by Rav Ashi,
who was the head of the Sura yeshiva generations
later, closed a circle begun by Rav, the founder of
that yeshiva. The interchanges between Rav and
his colleagues, and Rav and his disciples, formed
the main corpus upon which the Talmud was built;
many generations later, it was disciples of Rav’s
disciples who completed the enterprise. The
underlying approach, which made it possible to
create and to complete this gigantic opus, was
Rav’s Israel-rooted approach: the striving to take
things beyond a splendid start towards a
resolution, to reach conclusions, and to establish
defined study methods without sinking into
endless pilpul.
Rabbi Abba bar Aivo was not called by his
name, but by the appellation “Rav,” because he
was the Rabbi of Diaspora Jewry (see Rashbam on
Pesaĥim 119b). Even scholars and study houses
that neither followed his method nor studied Torah
directly from him, were influenced by him
indirectly. In building an influential center in
Babylonia, Rav was scrupulously careful not to
undermine the scholars and batei midrash that
preceded him. He made room for differing
opinions, even those of sages who were prepared
to accept his authority such as Shmuel and Rav
Shela. In fact, the controversies and interchanges
between Rav and his colleague Shmuel (known
afterwards as “Havayot deRav uShmuel ”)
constitute the primary basis for the discourses in
the Babylonian Talmud. The Talmud’s almost
dualistic system – of two batei midrash or two
scholars respectfully disputing one another – was
largely a consequence and a continuation of Rav’s
technique, which neither wished nor attempted to
destroy other opinions or alternative approaches.
Although we sometimes find Rav imposing
his authority upon one individual or another, [8]
the overall figure that emerges from the many
stories about him is full of refinement and
gentleness, both as an individual and in his
relationships with family members and others (see
Yevamot 63a; Bava Metzia 59a; and elsewhere).
He felt obligated to relate respectfully even to
those of lesser stature, and was ready to take
criticism from students and peers. Often, he would
avoid responding to questions or criticism raised
against him as if he had no answer, although his
replies to many of those same issues are to be
found in other places. Rav granted everyone,
including those close to him, the opportunity to
distinguish themselves, and gave each individual
room to speak and act as suited his nature.
Rav was also famous for his personal
sanctity. This found expression in the titles
bestowed upon him by his students: “Our holy
Rabbi,” or “Our great Rabbi, may the Almighty
help him” (Sukka 33a). Both in keeping with the
tradition of his family, who were renowned as
saintly people, and with the tradition of the Land
of Israel (which he received mainly from Rebbi),
Rav conducted himself with great asceticism –
which, however, he applied to himself alone.
There is a list of ten pious customs undertaken by
Rav,[9] among them that he was never without
tzitzit and tefillin, and that he never raised his eyes
from the ground. In later generations, many who
tried to copy even a single detail from the complex
of his activities and his way of life often fell to
severe extremism.
Rav also had the singular ability to attract
students. It seems that Rav was the first to create
the institution of the yeshiva in Babylonia in such
unprecedented scope and quality. Most of Rav’s
students became the leaders and outstanding
figures of the following generation. The creation of
this group, moreover, enabled and encouraged the
creation of parallel groups in other places.
The model of the yeshiva created by Rav was
both similar and dissimilar to the original model in
the Land of Israel. While in the Land of Israel the
yeshiva relied on its proximity to the beit din or to
the Great Sanhedrin, in Babylonia other
frameworks created an independent tradition and
were the basis of the yeshiva’s existence. One of
these was the yarĥei kalla – the two yearly
sessions in which scholars from all over the
country would assemble for a month of intensive
Torah study. In the five months between those
sessions, the participating scholars would study on
their own, or prepare the material to be dealt with
at the next month of intensive study. This pattern
became routine in Babylonia from Rav’s time
onward, and it continued as long as there was
Torah study there. It facilitated the inclusion of a
great number of people in very concentrated Torah
study while at the same time creating a structure
for Torah study that was not geared to
professional scholars alone.
Rav strove to create a yeshiva that would be
based on students who were highly skilled in
Torah study, even though each had his own
occupation, which took most of his time. Thus the
institution of yarhei kallah, which existed before
Rav, acquired full validity, force, and significance
in his day, and served as the model for all the
Babylonian yeshivot for successive generations.
[1]. Gittin 59a: “Rav said: I w as in the Assembly of Rebbi, and
my vote w as taken first.”
[2]. Among them: Rav Yitzĥak bar Avdimi, Summakhos, Rabbi
Elazar ben Rabbi Shimon, Rabban Gamliel (Rebbi’s son), and
others.
[3]. Bereshit Rab a 33:3: “During all the thirty days that Rabbi
Ĥiyya w as reprimanded by Rebbi, he taught Rav, his
nephew , all the rules of Torah [study] according to the
Babylonian [method].”
[4]. From Ketubot 62b it can be understood that he w as a
descendant of David’s brother Shim’i; and from the
Jerusalem Talmud, Ta’anit 4:2, it can be inferred that he
w as a descendant of David himself.
[5]. See Bava Kama 99b; Eruvin 73a; Berakhot 43a; Jerusalem
Talmud, Sanhedrin 3:6; and elsew here.
[6]. Yoma 87a: “Once Rav w as expounding portions of the
Bible before Rabbis, and there entered Rabbi Ĥiyya,
w hereupon Rav started again from the beginning; as Rabbi
Shimon, the son of Rebbi, entered, he started again from
the beginning. But w hen Rabbi Ĥanina bar Ĥama entered,
he said: So often shall I go back? And he did not go over it
again. Rabbi Ĥanina took that amiss. Rav w ent to him on
thirteen eves of the Day of Atonement, but he w ould not
be pacified. But how could he do so?…Rabbi Ĥanina had
seen in a dream that Rav w as being hanged on a palm tree,
and since the tradition is that one w ho in a dream is
hanged on a palm tree w ill become head [of an Academy],
he concluded that authority w ill be given to him, and so he
w ould not be pacified, w ith the result that he [Rav]
departed to teach Torah in Babylonia.”
[7]. On their meeting w ith Rav upon his arrival in Babylonia, see
Shabbat 108a, and Yoma 20b.
[8]. E.g., Yevamot 52a: He w ould flog w hoever w ould betroth
a w oman by sexual intercourse, or in the open street, or
w ithout previous negotiation. Ibid., 45a: Rav fixed his eyes
upon a certain man, and he died. Megilla 5b: He cursed a
person w ho sow ed on Purim; Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim
9:20, and elsew here.
[9]. In Teshuvot HaGeonim, Sha’arei Teshuva 178, w e find the
full list, w hich is: 1. He never raised his eyes from the
ground; 2. He never w ent bare-headed; 3. He ate three
meals on Shabbat; 4. He never glanced aside; 5. He never
looked ahead; 6. He w ould go in a roundabout w ay, so as
not to trouble the community (by making them rise to their
feet in his honor); 7. He never ate a meal unless it w as
connected w ith the fulfillment of a mitzva; 8. He w ent to
appease w hoever provoked him; 9. He had a pleasant
voice, and he w ould serve both as leader in prayer and as
interpreter; 10. He alw ays w ore tzitzit and tefillin.
Chapter nine
Shmuel
Rav and Shmuel were the first of the pairs of
scholars among the amoraim who created the
Babylonian Talmud. Rav and Shmuel were
antithetical in personality and in outward
appearance. Rav was a tall and impressive figure,
nicknamed Abba Arikha – “Abba the tall” ( Ĥulin
137b). Of Shmuel’s appearance we have the rather
irreverent description by a woman: “He is short
and big-stomached, dark and large-teethed.”[1]
Despite all that, and although they came from
different backgrounds, worked independently, and
their period of collaboration was brief, in the
minds of the generations they remain a pair. Their
controversies, known as Ĥavayot deRav uShmuel
(Berakhot 19b), like the Havayot deAbaye veRava
in a later period, are the building blocks of the
Babylonian Talmud.
Shmuel was one of the most exceptional
figures among the great variety of types of
tannaim and amoraim. He was a distinguished
scholar and head of a yeshiva who left his mark for
many generations. Yet, unlike Rav and many other
colleagues, he was the first Babylonian scholar to
have never officially been ordained and he never
bore the title “Rabbi.” Thus, Shmuel started a
tradition of scholars who did not receive formal
recognition of status from the center in the Land of
Israel.
Why Shmuel was never ordained may be due
not only to technical reasons,[2] but also to his
family history. Shmuel was a descendant of the
tanna Ĥanania (Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ĥanania’s
nephew), who, two generations earlier, tried to
create an independent center of scholarship in
Babylonia parallel to that in the Land of Israel
(Berakhot 63a; Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim 6:8).
Ĥanania’s effort failed, but “Ĥanania’s offense” (as
it was subsequently known) was neither forgotten
nor forgiven even in the generations that followed.
Unlike Rav, who spent a significant portion of
his life in the Land of Israel, Shmuel was a
preeminent product of the Babylonian school.
Opinion is divided as to whether Shmuel was ever
in the Land of Israel (Bava Metzia 85b). Those who
believe that Shmuel was there claim that he
managed to study with Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi
(“Rebbi”) and to serve as his personal physician.
Rebbi esteemed Shmuel as a physician and as a
scholar and tried to ordain him as a rabbi.
However, he did not find a suitable opportunity to
do so. When the ordination was repeatedly
postponed, Shmuel made the following comment:
“I have seen the Book of Adam, in which is
written, ‘Shmuel Yarĥina’a (lunar expert, or
astronomer)[3] shall be called ‘Ĥakim ,’ but not
‘Rabbi’” (ibid.). This statement is ambiguous, since
the word Ĥakim means both scholar and physician.
As was common among men of science in
those times, Shmuel was also an astronomer. If
Shmuel is indeed “Shmuel Yarĥina’a,” the title
attests to his erudition in celestial affairs. Shmuel
himself remarked that he was as familiar with the
paths of the heavens as with the streets of his city
Neharde’a (Berakhot 58b). Among the Jewish
scholars of the day, however, being both a
physician and an astronomer was quite unusual.
While most Torah scholars did work for a living,
most were farmers; whereas Shmuel lived in a
cosmopolitan commercial center and was affiliated
with the wider world of the sciences.
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s letters to the Babylonian
scholars tell us a great deal about how the Israel
scholars thought of Shmuel. The leading scholar in
the Land of Israel, Rabbi Yoĥanan, was younger
than Rav and Shmuel. During Rav’s lifetime, Rabbi
Yoĥanan opened his letters with the greeting, “To
our Rabbis in Babylonia.” After Rav’s death, when
Shmuel effectively took his place, Rabbi Yoĥanan
would write, “To our colleagues in Babylonia.” To
persuade Rabbi Yoĥanan that he, too, ought to be
addressed with the title “Our Rabbi,” Shmuel sent
him a sixty-year calendar. Rabbi Yoĥanan was not
impressed in the least and merely observed that
Shmuel was obviously a proficient mathematician.
Only much later did Shmuel succeed in convincing
Rabbi Yoĥanan that he was not only a wise man,
but a Torah scholar as well (Ĥulin 95b).
Shmuel’s medical practice and his studies in
astronomy (and to an extent also astrology)
brought him into close contact with non-Jewish
scholars. Among his Gentile friends was a
Babylonian scholar called Avlet (perhaps a
shortened version of the name Obalit). Their
discussions on astronomy, philosophy, and general
world affairs are recorded in the Talmud ( Shabbat
129a; 156a; Avoda Zara 30a). Shmuel also
frequented the debating societies in his city, where
religious and philosophical issues were discussed.
Although Rav, too, had broad horizons, he would
never set foot in such places.
In his ability to build close personal
friendships without standing on ceremony, Shmuel
resembled his father. Both cared about principles
and essentials and not about personal status. In
the Jerusalem Talmud, Shmuel’s father is referred
to by his proper name, Abba bar Abba. However,
the Babylonian Talmud refers to him almost only
as “Shmuel’s father” (Avuh diShmuel). Shmuel was
such an outstanding personality that his father –
an important scholar in his own right, whose
opinions and honor were deferred to even by
scholars in the Land of Israel (Bava Metzia 90a;
Yevamot 105a) – was relegated to the shadows by
comparison.
Shmuel had very close ties to the household
of the exilarch. The exilarch in his time, Mar Ukba,
was a gentle and unassuming man, involved in
charity and compassionate deeds. Perhaps this
accounts for their mutual affinity. The exilarch was
not then accorded the special status he later
acquired when the government recognized his
formal position as Prince of the Jews. Still, he did
enjoy considerable authority, even in the area of
civil law. Shmuel’s close ties with the exilarch
made him more familiar with Babylonian Jewry’s
judicial system than many other scholars were.
Although he did not have the official standing (not
yet created) of the Exilarch’s Advisor (“Ĥakham
Rosh HaGola”), he was the closest person to the
exilarch and to his judicial system.
Shmuel was thus better acquainted than
others with the various areas of civil law, from
property to torts. It was with good reason that
issues of religious law were determined according
to Rav, while Shmuel decided the halakha relating
to monetary issues (Bekhorot 49b). Scholars of
succeeding generations realized that Rav had the
ability to encompass the Babylonian and Israeli
traditions and mold them into an integrated
system; but that in monetary matters and everyday
practical issues, Shmuel’s proficiency was the
greater. In this sense, Rav was the theoretician
while Shmuel was the practical man of law.
Generally speaking, Shmuel’s experience in the real
world, both as a doctor and as a judge, gave him
better understanding of social and personal
problems.
In disputes between Rav and Shmuel,
Shmuel almost always represents the perspective
that derives from existential reality. He sees the
problems of the world as they are seen and sensed
by others. A dispute between Rav and Shmuel in
explicating a verse from the Book of Esther is an
apt example (Megilla 13a): The guard in charge of
Ahasuerus’s harem “favored Esther for the good”
over all the other women (Esther 2:9). Rav says
that he favored her by giving her kosher food;
Shmuel says that he favored her by giving her
pork chops. Rav’s concept of good is clear: good
means kosher, correct, proper. Shmuel, on the
other hand, could see things from the perspective
of the Gentile guard. What would such a guard
consider good? How would he favor the young
lady with a chance to be chosen queen? He would
definitely give her pork chops. This difference in
approach, which illuminates the deep polarities in
their natures, is found in many other disputes
between them on topics that are much more grave
and serious.
The personal relationship between Rav and
Shmuel was a rather tangled one. Rav sensed that
his very arrival in Babylonia created a new center
of gravity, by definition an injustice to Shmuel. He
therefore compensated by according him great
honor. With all that, Rav may have underestimated
the power and the talents which lay behind
Shmuel’s self-effacement. From the time of Rav
and Shmuel, the Babylonian yeshivot developed
along two separate lines, concentrating around the
two great centers. There was the yeshiva founded
by Rav and based upon his traditions in Sura.
Alongside it was the yeshiva which continued
Shmuel’s method, first situated in Neharde’a and
later, after being destroyed in the many wars
between Persia and Rome, moved (or rather, most
of its sages moved) to Pumbedita. The yeshivot at
Sura and Pumbedita, throughout the hundreds of
years of their existence, were very much linked to
the personalities of the two individuals who
headed them: Rav – the founder of the former
yeshiva, and Shmuel, the head of the latter.
Throughout the generations, the yeshiva at
Sura was always more “Israeli” in its strong link to
the Torah study methods and the scholars of the
Land of Israel. It was characterized by
comprehensive definitions and all-encompassing
summations, along with a bent for the esoteric and
the Kabbala. The yeshiva at Pumbedita, on the
other hand, perpetuated Shmuel’s method and was
more distinctively Babylonian. Its scholars were
less interested in the large scopes and broad
problems of classification, and more engaged in
hair-splitting analysis, and in the world and its
problems. Their minds were also more open to
general knowledge and to the universe outside the
yeshiva walls.
Rav, like many of his generation, could not
properly appreciate Shmuel’s strength for he was
modest, reticent, and unassuming. Shmuel
nonetheless never relinquished his opinion or
altered his basic approach. Quietly and
unobtrusively, he refrained from disputes liable to
lead to divisiveness or agitation. Avoiding
confrontation, he built a complete and unique
school of thought.
Shmuel was younger than Rav and outlived
him. After Rav’s death, many of his former
students gathered around Shmuel and were
nourished by his unique halakhic methodology as
well as by his affinity with real life.
Shmuel had no sons. His students and their
students, who perpetuated his method throughout
all the generations in which the Talmud was
formed, imprinted in it Shmuel’s approach which,
perhaps even more than Rav’s, characterizes the
inner essence of the Babylonian Talmud.
[1]. Nedarim 50b: “A certain w oman of Neharde’a came before
Rav Yehuda [at Pumbedita] for a law suit, and w as declared
guilty by the court. ‘Would your teacher Shmuel have
judged thus?’ she said. ‘Do you know him, then?’ he asked.
‘Yes. He is short and big-stomached, dark and large-
toothed.’ ‘W hat, you have come to insult him! Let that
w oman be under the ban!’ he exclaimed. She burst and
died.”
[2]. He may have been in Israel for too short a time or at a
period w hen the ordaining body, the Sanhedrin , w as not
convened, etc.
[3]. There are differences of opinion as to w hether “Shmuel
Yarĥina’a” mentioned here is indeed the great amora
Shmuel or a different person, w ho is mentioned once only,
in this source.
Chapter ten
Rabbi Yoĥanan
Rabbi Yoĥanan was the greatest of the amoraim in
the Land of Israel and undoubtedly one of the
central figures in all of Talmudic literature.
According to tradition, Rabbi Yoĥanan was the
editor of the Jerusalem Talmud. Although the
amoraim of the Land of Israel continued for
several generations after Rabbi Yoĥanan, his
character and his work were the central axis of the
Jerusalem Talmud. His influence is felt not only in
the Jerusalem Talmud, but to a large extent in the
Babylonian Talmud as well; both bear the stamp of
his sayings and his personality throughout, in
halakha and aggada alike.
During Rabbi Yoĥanan’s era, actually the two
generations in which he was active, he was the
most important and impressive figure in the entire
Jewish world. His teachings, as transmitted directly
to students in the Land of Israel, and indirectly to
other Jews wherever they lived, were one of the
few stable things within the Jewish world, which
was then beset with disputes and controversies.
There were those who disputed Rabbi
Yoĥanan, too, in his day and subsequently.
Nevertheless, in halakhic methodology he was and
continued to be the dominant personality, both in
the teachings of the Land of Israel and, to a large
extent, in halakha in general. In the Jerusalem
Talmud, halakha is nearly always determined
according to Rabbi Yoĥanan, and in the final
analysis, the same is true in the Babylonian
Talmud. The cumulative weight of his personality,
backed by the prestige of the Land of Israel, was
decisive even against the acclaimed Babylonian
amoraim, Rav and Shmuel.
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s renown is confirmed by a
letter sent to Rabba (Rabba bar Naĥmani, one of
the greatest Babylonian amoraim; see chapter 12).
Rabba’s brothers, who had moved to the Land of
Israel, tried to convince him to join them and
wrote, “And lest you might think that you have no
master [good enough for you here, we can tell you
that] you have one, and he is Rabbi Yoĥanan”
(Ketubot 111a).
Indeed, after the death of Rav and Shmuel
many of their disciples moved to the Land of Israel
to study Torah from Rabbi Yoĥanan. Some of
them stayed in the Land of Israel and their work
became characteristically “Israeli”; among them
were even some who became so zealous that they
scorned their country of origin, considering the
Torah of the Land of Israel paramount ( Beitza 15a
and elsewhere). It was said that when Rabbi Zeira
arrived in the Land of Israel to study with Rabbi
Yoĥanan, he fasted one hundred fasts in order to
forget the Babylonian Talmud. He did not want to
confuse it with the teachings of the Land of Israel
(Bava Metzia 85a). Rabbi Yoĥanan himself,
however, was not all that dogmatic, and he
honored and respected the Babylonian scholars.
Rabbi Yoĥanan lived to a ripe old age. In his
youth, he learned in the beit midrash of Rabbi
Yehuda HaNasi (“Rebbi”) ( Pesaĥim 3b; and see
Ĥ u l i n 137b [see note on p. 75] ibid., 54a),
although he was not regarded as one of his
disciples. He was the quintessential student of
Rabbi Ĥiyya’s great disciples: Rabbi Oshaya and
Rabbi Yannai, and Ĥizkiyya the son of Rabbi Ĥiyya,
and lived on for another two generations after
them. His greatness in Torah learning was already
recognized by his teachers, who praised him
generously. This enthusiasm was echoed also by
his students and his students’ students when he
served as head of the yeshiva.
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s eminence did not come
easily. We know nothing of his family other than
that he was called, both in his presence and not,
bar nappaĥa, son of the blacksmith (Ketubot 25b;
Bava Metzia 85b; and elsewhere). We know that in
his youth he suffered poverty and almost resolved
to leave Torah study and engage in trade in order
to support himself.[1] He did inherit some
property, but as he told his students on several
occasions, “This field was mine, and I sold it in
order to study Torah,” “This vineyard was mine,
and I sold it in order to study Torah,” “This
orchard of olives was mine, and I sold it in order
to study Torah” (Vayikra Raba 30:1; Shir HaShirim
Raba 8:7). He apparently came close to destitution
and was saved only when, as the head of the
yeshiva, he was provided with an honorable
livelihood.
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s life was filled with troubles,
and not only because of his great poverty. He had
ten sons, all of whom died within his lifetime. It
was told that he saved a bone (or tooth) of the
tenth son, which he would show to anyone who
complained of his fate, saying, “This is the bone of
my tenth son” (Berakhot 5b).
Rabbi Yoĥanan was famous for his superb
beauty. He was reputed to be one of the most
handsome people to have ever lived. The Talmud
used a uniquely poetic metaphor to describe him:
“Take a silver goblet as it emerges from the
crucible, fill it with the seeds of a red
pomegranate, encircle its brim with a chaplet of
red roses, and set it between the sun and the
shade; its lustrous glow is like Rabbi Yoĥanan’s
beauty” (Bava Metzia 84a).
Universal respect, juxtaposed with personal
adversity, led Rabbi Yoĥanan to be particularly
sensitive, especially when others repeated his
statements without attributing them to him (Bava
K a m a 117a; ibid., 65a; Bava Metzia 84a;
Jerusalem Talmud, Berakhot 2:1; Shekalim 2:5).
Rabbi Yoĥanan apparently saw his Torah
statements as his sole claim to eternity. He was
bereft of all ties to the world, financial and familial;
only his Torah study and his disciples could
interest him, and they were everything to him.
Rabbi Yoĥanan was totally absorbed in the
four cubits of the beit midrash and hardly ever left
it. This was the world that he had chosen in his
youth, and there he remained for all of his long life
– as a man of the beit midrash who resided in the
beit midrash. He was not, therefore, a political
leader, even though his power and his personality
could have been the decisive factor on any issue,
and even though all of his contemporaries, from
the Babylonian sages to the Nasi of the Sanhedrin
in the Land of Israel, were willing to accept almost
every ruling he made.
It was Rabbi Yoĥanan who effectively created
the study methodology of the Jerusalem Talmud.
His predecessors had still continued Rebbi’s work,
both by collecting baraitot which had not been
included in the Mishna, and by putting the
finishing textual touches to the Mishna. Rabbi
Yoĥanan, on the other hand, was first and
foremost among the distinguished amoraim who
created the Talmud.
One of Rabbi Yoĥanan’s most basic beliefs
was in the centrality of the Mishna. He lay down a
fundamental rule of halakha – that the law is in
accordance with the anonymously recorded Mishna
(Shabbat 46a; ibid., 81b; Eruvin 92a; and
elsewhere). All the major decisors, and especially
Maimonides, followed him. This, de facto, gave the
Mishna special status. In practice, this means that
the authoritative decision on the halakha is stated
in the Mishna proper, and not in any of the other
opinions mentioned elsewhere, either in the
Mishna or in the many compilations of tannaitic
statements assembled around the Mishna.
While other scholars wanted to broaden the
tannaitic base on which the Mishna rested – to
reinstate some of the extensive material which
Rebbi had left out – Rabbi Yoĥanan went back to
the Mishna as written and formulated by Rebbi.
Rabbi Yoĥanan also established the rule that
whatever was not cited in the Mishna had dubious
practical, halakhic value. He used to say: “Rebbi
had not taught this ruling; how could Rabbi Ĥiyya
know it?” (Eruvin 92a; Yevamot 43a; and
elsewhere). Rabbi Yoĥanan’s method returned to
the Mishna and focused on it as the primary source
from which to learn and draw conclusions. His
assertion that “the law follows the anonymous
Mishna” permanently established the principle that
the predominant halakhic verdicts of the Jewish
world remain anchored in the Mishna.
Even though Rabbi Yoĥanan personally
enjoyed the debate and pilpul of his students, his
usual approach tended to the peshat. Without
sophistry and extraneous inquiry, Rabbi Yoĥanan
worked toward an understanding of the meaning
of the Mishna as a single, complete unit. His
approach was primarily expository. It did not
ignore new problems, but tried to link them to the
accepted traditions of the Mishna. Against the
Babylonian style, which tended to casuistry and
sharp-wittedness, Rabbi Yoĥanan’s approach
(which became the salient method of the
Jerusalem Talmud) sought the core of the matter
and drove toward understanding, without
digressions to side issues or to problems removed
from reality. In the Land of Israel, Rabbi Yirmiya
was expelled from the beit midrash after having
raised tangential issues at hand,[2] while in
Babylonia such questions would never have
resulted in anyone’s ouster from the Study Hall.
Also characteristic of the Land of Israel was
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s attempt to arrive at halakhic
summations and conclusions. Rabbi Yoĥanan was
therefore careful to rely on clear, authoritative
sources; he would not say anything which could
not withstand analysis, either textual or academic.
Other scholars sought to harmonize the halakha by
searching after obscure opinions and trying to
reconcile them; Rabbi Yoĥanan wanted to
comprehend and to compile that which he knew.
He did not exhaustively investigate all the tannaitic
sources available. He saw no need to deal with
sources which did not fit into the path he had
outlined for determining the halakha, the path he
took throughout the many years in which he was
the Torah leader of the Jewish people.
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s relations with other sages of
his generation were quite varied. He treated with
respect and esteem the Babylonian amora Rav,
whom he remembered from the time that he had
spent in the Land of Israel,[3] and with the amora
Shmuel he corresponded for many years (Ĥulin
95b). Disciples of Rav and Shmuel who came to
study under Rabbi Yoĥanan, and who later became
central pillars of Torah in the Land of Israel, were
his source for news from Babylonia. Indeed, from
time to time we find Rabbi Yoĥanan marveling at
the wisdom of the Babylonian scholars, when he
discovered that they had preempted him in
arriving at conclusions similar to his.
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s relations with his disciples in
the Land of Israel were complex. The time he
spent in Tiberias as the head of the local yeshiva,
although economically difficult, was quite
comfortable from other aspects, and Rabbi
Yoĥanan succeeded in assembling an enormous
number of students from all over the Diaspora. His
closest disciple, aside from his brother-in-law Resh
Lakish, was Rabbi Elazar ben Pedat. Rabbi Elazar
was considered the most important transmitter of
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s teachings. Yet, in the manner of
Talmudic sages, he did not nullify himself in front
of his great master, and differences of opinion
between them are often recorded. The nature of
their relationship is apparent from the following
incident. Rabbi Elazar stated an innovation of
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s without attributing it to him.
Rabbi Yoĥanan, who was quite sensitive on that
issue for reasons of continuity of tradition as well
as for personal reasons, was offended by the
omission. His students tried to appease him, and
Rabbi Yaakov bar Idi said: “Did Yehoshua, then,
concerning every word which he said, tell them,
‘Thus did Moses tell me’? But the fact is that
Yehoshua was sitting and delivering his discourse
without mentioning names, and everyone knew
that it was the Torah of Moses. So, too, when your
disciple Rabbi Elazar sat and delivered his
discourse without mentioning names, everyone
knew that it was yours.”[4]
Rabbi Yoĥanan was very fond of his student
Rabbi Elazar and revealed the softer side of his
personality to him, as the following story
illustrates: “Rabbi Elazar fell ill and Rabbi Yoĥanan
went in to visit him. He noticed that he was lying
in a dark room, and he bared his arm and light
radiated from it. Thereupon he noticed that Rabbi
Elazar was weeping, and he said to him: ‘Why do
you weep? Is it because you did not study enough
Torah? Surely we learnt: The one who sacrifices
much and the one who sacrifices little have the
same merit, provided that the heart is directed to
heaven. Is it perhaps lack of sustenance? Not
everybody has the privilege to enjoy two tables. Is
it perhaps because of [the lack of] children? This is
the bone of my tenth son!’” Rabbi Elazar’s next
statement expresses the essence of their
relationship, and in a way, the attitude of an entire
generation towards Rabbi Yoĥanan. “He [Rabbi
Elazar] replied: ‘I am weeping on account of this
beauty that is going to rot in the earth.’” In other
words, he wept not for himself, but for the beauty
of Rabbi Yoĥanan which was destined to decay.
Rabbi Yoĥanan said to him: ‘On that account you
surely have a reason to weep.’ And they both
wept” (Berakhot 5b). For many people, Rabbi
Yoĥanan was the embodiment of greatness and
beauty. His death and disappearance from the
Jewish scene seemed a tragedy of such magnitude,
that it was impossible to imagine resuming normal
life.
At the end of the above incident, Rabbi
Yoĥanan appears as a wonder worker as well. “In
the meanwhile he [Rabbi Yoĥanan] said to him:
‘Are your sufferings welcome to you?’ He replied:
‘Neither they nor their reward.’ He said to him:
‘Give me your hand.’ And he gave him his hand
and he raised him.” Rabbi Yoĥanan extended his
hand, and Rabbi Elazar was healed. In other
places, too, Rabbi Yoĥanan appears, albeit
unobtrusively, as a miracle worker and one who
engages in the esoteric. We know of several of his
disciples, such as Rabbi Ami and Rabbi Asi, who
acquired their knowledge of the esoteric from him.
[1]. Ta’anit 21a: “Ilfa and Rabbi Yoĥanan studied together the
Torah and they found themselves in great w ant and they
said one to another, ‘Let us go and engage in commerce so
that in us the verse w ill be fulfilled: “There shall be no need
among you”’ (Deuteronomy 15:4). They w ent and sat
dow n under a ruin of a w all, and w hile they w ere having
their meal tw o ministering angels came. Rabbi Yoĥanan
overheard one saying to the other, ‘Let us throw this w all
upon these [people] and kill them, because they forsake
etemal life and occupy themselves w ith temporal life.’ The
other [angel] replied: ‘Leave them alone because one of
them has still much to achieve.’ Rabbi Yoĥanan heard this
but Ilfa did not. Rabbi Yoĥanan asked Ilfa, ‘Master, have
you heard anything?’ He replied: ‘No.’ Rabbi Yoĥanan said
to himself: ‘As I heard this and Ilfa has not, it is clear that I
am the one w ho still has much to achieve.’ Rabbi Yoĥanan
then said to Ilfa: ‘I w ill go back, so that it may be fulfilled,
for “The poor shall never cease out of the land”’ (ibid.,
verse 11).
[2]. Bava Batra 23b. Rabbi Yirmiya raised the question: “If one
foot is w ithin fifty cubits and the other beyond, how do w e
decide?” It w as for this that they turned Rabbi Yirmiya out
of the beit midrash .
[3]. Ĥulin 137b: “I remember w hen I w as sitting before Rebbi,
seventeen row s behind Rav, seeing sparks of fire leaping
from the mouth of Rebbi into the mouth of Rav and from
the mouth of Rav into the mouth of Rebbi, and I could not
understand w hat they w ere saying.”
[4]. Yevamot 96b. See also, Jerusalem Talmud, Shekalim 2:5
and Berakhot 2:1; and Midrash Shmuel 19, as in the case of
Rabbi Meir w ho w as know n to all as the disciple of Rabbi
Akiva.
Chapter eleven
Resh Lakish
Resh Lakish was the nickname for one of the most
outstanding amoraim of the Land of Israel, Rabbi
Shimon ben Lakish. It may relate to a curious
chapter of his life not completely known, and to a
personality which was exceptional, even within the
colorful gallery of Talmudic figures.
Resh Lakish was distinctively Israeli. He was
raised and educated in the Land of Israel,
apparently in the city of Tiberias or its vicinity.
Although there is no definitive proof, it seems that,
in his youth, Resh Lakish was part of the scholarly
community and studied Torah from several of the
leading sages of the generation.[1] For reasons
that are unclear, possibly economic hardship, he
temporarily left the scholarly world.
The late third century was a difficult period in
the Land of Israel. The Roman authorities began
imposing edicts with the aim of evicting Jewish
settlers, particularly farmers, from the Land. The
burden of taxation (which eventually led to the
destruction of the Roman Empire) was especially
oppressive for minorities and for individuals who
lacked patronage and were therefore forced to find
alternative sources of income. Resh Lakish,
renowned for his immense physical strength,
apparently could find no other way to support
himself than through the most wretched, most
dangerous, and perhaps most lucrative occupation
of the time: as a gladiator.
Stepping into the stadium not only meant
leaving behind the scholarly milieu; in many ways,
it meant withdrawing altogether from the world of
men. Gladiators existed in a world of their own.
Knowing that they could not survive for long in the
cruel arena, they lived for the moment, as
unbridled as possible. Bloodshed and lawlessness
were part of their world, and entering that world
meant deserting civilization.
It is not clear where, or for how long, Resh
Lakish was a wrestler. Apparently he did it long
enough for him to become famous, probably in
Caesarea and other locales where there were
audiences for such amusements.
The Talmud ( Bava Metzia 84a) describes how
Resh Lakish reformed his ways. Rabbi Yoĥanan,
renowned for his beauty, was bathing in the
Jordan River. Resh Lakish, who was passing by,
saw him and jumped into the water after him.
Rabbi Yoĥanan admired Resh Lakish’s strength and
complimented him, saying, “Your strength should
be for Torah”; in other words, a man of your
prowess should invest his energy in Torah study.
Impressed by Rabbi Yoĥanan’s beauty, Resh
Lakish replied, “Your beauty should be for
women.” They made an agreement: Rabbi
Yoĥanan promised his sister, as beautiful as he, to
Resh Lakish in marriage, and Resh Lakish
undertook to repent and devote his energy to
Torah study.
Resh Lakish returned to the beit midrash. It
was soon clear that his spiritual power did not fall
short of his physical stamina. He quickly became
one of the eminent scholars in the beit midrash of
Tiberias, then the most important Jewish center in
the world. The greatest sages of the entire Jewish
world were concentrated there, including many
Babylonian scholars who had come to study under
Rabbi Yoĥanan.
The reversal in Resh Lakish’s personality
when he returned to the world of Torah was not
surprising. He had always been a man of extremes
and continued to be so in his old-new life as well.
The Talmud says that, after hearing from Rabbi
Yoĥanan that it was forbidden for a man to laugh
in this world, Resh Lakish never laughed again
(Berakhot 31a). It is also told that he would never
speak in public with anyone whose trustworthiness
or very character were questionable. It was even
said that anyone with whom Resh Lakish
conversed in the street could get a loan without
guarantors (Yoma 9b). In later times, the basis for
accepting or rejecting certain traditions could be
whether or not Resh Lakish had possibly spoken
with the particular person who maintained that
tradition (ibid.).
Rabbi Yoĥanan and Resh Lakish were a
unique pair in the realm of Torah study. Resh
Lakish was usually the one to raise objections and
challenges and probe the issues at hand. He would
pile up questions, textual or theoretical, on almost
everything Rabbi Yoĥanan said. In fact, a
significant portion of the sugyot in both the
Jerusalem and the Babylonian Talmuds is based on
the controversies of Rabbi Yoĥanan and Resh
Lakish. Resh Lakish did not intend to dispute the
very basis of Rabbi Yoĥanan’s statements, but to
more thoroughly investigate and clarify matters,
and that was how Rabbi Yoĥanan himself
perceived it, too. Indeed, after Resh Lakish’s death,
Rabbi Yoĥanan was deeply grieved by his absence.
To comfort him, the sages sent one of their most
astute colleagues, Rabbi Elazar ben Pedat, to fill
Resh Lakish’s place. Rabbi Elazar would sit before
Rabbi Yoĥanan, and as Rabbi Yoĥanan spoke, he
would say: “There is a baraita which supports
you.” Said Rabbi Yoĥanan, “Are you like the son of
Lakish? When I stated a law, the son of Lakish
would raise twenty-four objections and I would
give twenty-four answers, which would then lead
to a fuller understanding of the law. But you say,
‘A baraita has been taught which supports you.’
Don’t I already know that my dicta are right?”
(Bava Metzia 84a).
On another occasion (Jerusalem Talmud,
Sanhedrin 2:1), Rabbi Yoĥanan expressed the
quality of his relationship with Resh Lakish in a
most original way. The event took place after Resh
Lakish had given one of his typically sharp
discourses and had offended the Nasi. The Nasi
was upset and wanted to imprison Resh Lakish.
Resh Lakish fled, absenting himself from the beit
midrash. The following day, when the Nasi asked
Rabbi Yoĥanan to say some words of Torah, Rabbi
Yoĥanan tried to clap with one hand, meaning that
without Resh Lakish he was unable to utter his
thoughts and ideas, just as one hand cannot make
a clapping sound without the other. He needed
Resh Lakish in order to create the beit midrash
discussions: the ongoing debates, the
investigation, and clarification of issues that grow
out of the give-and-take and the questions and
answers.
Very little is known about Resh Lakish’s
personal life, even after he reformed. Apparently
he married Rabbi Yoĥanan’s sister and lived with
her for many years.[2] She bore him sons, and his
youngest son, “yanuka deResh Lakish” (“Resh
Lakish’s baby”) was known, even as a child, for his
keen mind (Ta’anit 9a). It seems, however, that he
did not live long, for we do not find any of Resh
Lakish’s sons among the scholars of the next
generation.
In the many disputes between Rabbi
Yoĥanan and Resh Lakish, the halakha was
generally determined according to Rabbi Yoĥanan,
and it is quite certain that Resh Lakish would have
agreed with that principle. Nevertheless, in several
areas, halakha was established according to Resh
Lakish. In spite of Rabbi Yoĥanan’s dominant
personality, Resh Lakish appears alongside him not
as a reflection or a shadow, but as a Torah
personality in his own right. Although he acquired
much of his learning from Rabbi Yoĥanan, he
learned a great deal from other scholars as well
(among them Bar Kappara, Rabbi Asi, Rabbi
Oshaya, and Rabbi Yannai) and developed ideas of
his own. In addition, there were traditions which
he remembered from his youth. Even after his
experiences in the outside world, he would refer to
them, often in order to differ even with Rabbi
Yoĥanan.
Resh Lakish was a remarkable mixture of
great personal humility on the one hand, and
ideological brilliance and extremism on the other.
On a personal level, he was never upset with
anyone, even when he was offended; but on
matters of principle, he showed partiality to no
one. His speeches included harsh statements not
only in regard to the masses, but also about the
leaders and the mighty men of the period. Just as
he was a great wrestler who would never
capitulate, so he was later to become a man who
fought for his own views, never making
concessions about his spiritual essence. Even in his
disputes with Rabbi Yoĥanan, Resh Lakish
maintained an independent stance. He would never
show the slightest disrespect to his opponent, but
at the same time he would not compromise his
own dignity or the personal identity he had built
for himself.
The death of Resh Lakish and the subsequent
death of Rabbi Yoĥanan closed a chapter in the
history of the Jerusalem Talmud and the study of
Torah in the Land of Israel. Although the Talmud
continued to take shape for several more
generations, the brilliance of Torah study in the
Land of Israel was dimmed, to be restored only
with the renewal of Jewish settlement in the
Galilee, approximately a thousand years later. Resh
Lakish was among the very last “Israeli” sages (as
against the many new immigrants who arrived
then in Israel). He was one of those people who
create reality and do not merely follow past
precedents. And therefore, because he was so very
authentic and so profoundly connected to the
sources, he could be both critical and creative
without being disconnected or estranged.
“Resh Lakish” was a nickname; but unlike the
nicknames of other sages, which were usually
mere abbreviations of their names, his had
additional significance. The name Rabbi Shimon
was shortened to the initials ‘Resh,’ and Lakish was
his father’s name. But this nickname (which, in
Aramaic, means “head, leader,”) no doubt hinted
to his role as head and leader of a group, and not
necessarily of yeshiva students or Torah sages.
The name expressed the general esteem towards
Resh Lakish as a great man with a history of a
leader of ruffians. Thus, although Resh Lakish was
indeed well respected and his resolute personality
elicited awe, this combination of associations – of
his early past on the one hand, and his current
scholarly image on the other – made for the
unique composite of “Resh Lakish.”
One of the few disputes in which halakha was
decided according to Resh Lakish was the
fundamental controversy over acquisition of
usufruct. When one transfers to another the rights
to use a certain property, is ownership of the
property also transmitted? The controversy, which
has a variety of expressions and many halakhic
ramifications, touches upon the fundamental
understanding of the concept of acquisition. The
halakha, according to Resh Lakish, is that
acquisition of usufruct is not identical with the
acquisition of an object. In other words,
possession of an object and use of or benefit from
it are two separate things. Possession is one kind
of a legal privilege, and the right to use and
benefit from possession is a separate kind of
privilege. This postulate pertains not to one
specific dispute, but to a general understanding of
the very notion of acquisition in halakha.
The final and most famous dispute between
Rabbi Yoĥanan and Resh Lakish ( Bava Metzia 84a)
has to do with the stage of production at which
weapons – such as sword, knife, dagger, or spear
– are to be considered complete, and thus capable
of becoming ritually impure. In the course of the
discussion Rabbi Yoĥanan noted, perhaps half in
jest, that “a robber (a reference to Resh Lakish’s
past) understands his trade,” namely, is familiar
with the tools or weapons of his trade. Resh Lakish
took this as an insult and asked, “And if so, how
have you bettered my lot [by bringing me to study
Torah]: there [as a robber] I was called Master,
and here I am called Master.” Rabbi Yoĥanan
considered the reaction exaggerated and retorted:
“Is it not sufficient that I brought you under the
wings of the Shekhina?”
This exchange, which by modern standards
may not seem all that serious, caused – because of
its reference to the past and its reflection upon
personal character – a final rupture between Rabbi
Yoĥanan and Resh Lakish that had tragic
consequences. Resh Lakish died shortly after this
incident, and Rabbi Yoĥanan, who felt that it was
his anger and asperity that had brought about
Resh Lakish’s death, could not go on. Deeply
contrite, Rabbi Yoĥanan lost his sanity and died of
grief for the brother-in-law who was the
complement of his personality, for that severe and
somber counterpart of his who had highlighted
Rabbi Yoĥanan’ s own brilliance.
[1]. See Bava Metzia 84a, To safo t beginning “If you w ill
repent,” and also Eruvin 6 5 b , To safo t beginning “Resh
Lakish.”
[2]. See Bava Metzia 84a, and Rashi there, that she w as his
w ife until his death, and also Ta’anit 9a, that she outlived
him.
Chapter twelve
Abaye
Abaye was one of the most famous amoraim of
the Babylonian Talmud. His real name was
Naĥmani; “Abaye” was a nickname from his early
years. As an orphan, he knew neither of his
parents.[1] Abaye was raised by his father’s
brother, Rabba bar (=son of) Naĥmani, one of the
greatest Babylonian amoraim. Since his uncle did
not want to call the child by his own father’s name,
he called him “Abaye” – “little father.” In the
course of time, the name “Naĥmani” was nearly
forgotten. Except for a few references by his
colleague Rava (Shabbat 33a, 74a; Nedarim 54b;
and elsewhere), most everyone used the name that
his uncle had given to him.
The life of Abaye, the young orphan, was
never happy. His uncle Rabba, although the
greatest sage of the time and head of a yeshiva,
was very poor and the household suffered real
hunger (Eruvin 68a; Mo’ed Katan 28a; Megilla 7b;
Gittin 37b). Abaye relates that he was once invited
to dine in the home of Mari bar Mar, a relative of
the exilarch, after he had already had his fill in his
uncle’s house. A meal was served. When he sat
and ate and ate whatever was set in front of him,
he discovered the aptness of the saying (Megilla
7b): “The poor man is hungry and does not know
it.” Even after his uncle’s premature death, when
Abaye was on his own and became an important
Torah personage, his circumstances remained
precarious.
Abaye did not live a long life either. His
family – that, according to a tradition, descended
from Eli the priest – was cursed with brief life
spans (see I Shmuel 2:33) and very few reached
old age. Abaye lived to about sixty, and others in
the family died even younger. [2] In his family life,
too, Abaye knew little happiness. His first wife died
young, and he himself passed away shortly after
remarrying (Yevamot 64b).
While his colleague Rava lived a long life, had
scholarly sons, and was always wealthy and
successful, Abaye always stood apart as one whose
personal life was wretched. In addition, the
halakha was never determined according to his
opinion except for six cases.[3]
Abaye’s life revolved in two orbits. The first
was his relationship with his uncle and preeminent
teacher. Although the Talmud does not provide
much in the way of intimate descriptions, it seems
that the bond between Abaye and Rabba, who was
like a father to him, was one of great love and
mutual esteem. Yet the uncle was so revered by
Abaye, that (both in his presence and otherwise)
he never addressed him by his proper name, but
only as “Mar” – namely, “Sir.” And it is probably
Rabba’s wife whom Abaye often cites, saying,
“Mother said to me” (Eruvin 29b, 65a, 66b, 133b,
134a, and elsewhere). She is the source for many
folk sayings which appear in the Talmud: tales of
miracles, stories about devils, remedies, and
medications. Thus, in spite of the poverty and
tribulations,[4] the family circle of Rabba, Rabba’s
wife, and Abaye was a very close one. This was
one sphere of Abaye’s life.
The second was his relationship with his
other teacher, Rav Yosef. [5] Rav Yosef was
Rabba’s rival, colleague, and partner in halakha.
Abaye’s rapport with Rav Yosef was quite different
from his relationship with Rabba. Towards Rabba
he felt, as we said, boundless respect and
admiration – although, in the manner of Talmudic
study, he did not always accept all of Rabba’s
statements. There were times when he questioned
or even refuted them. His relationship with his
other teacher, Rav Yosef, was more complex. Rav
Yosef himself was very different from Rabba: his
personality was milder, and he employed a
different study method. While Rabba was known
as “one who uproots mountains,” Rav Yosef was
called “Sinai” – namely, one who retains traditions
and is extraordinarily erudite. Thus, although
Abaye was Rav Yosef’s student, he was a close
student, one who stimulates his teacher’s thought
and often poses questions and raises objections.
With Rav Yosef, Abaye was not only a passive
recipient, but also gave of his bounty to others.
Moreover, towards the end of his life, Rav Yosef
lost his eyesight and suffered from a prolonged
illness which resulted in partial memory loss. In
those years he relied a great deal on Abaye, who
would continue and often complement his
statements.[6] Rav Yosef was aware of his
illness[7] and took Abaye’s remarks in good spirit.
The generation after Rabba and Rav Yosef
can undoubtedly be called “the generation of
Abaye and Rava.” This pair was one of the most
famous pairs in the Talmud, and their disputes –
known as Havayot deAbaye veRava – were
considered by subsequent generations as the very
essence of the Talmud. Indeed, in many ways
these controversies constitute the core of Talmudic
discussion, since they relate to practically all the
questions that appear in the Talmud.[8]
The disputes of Abaye and Rava number in
the hundreds and are strewn throughout the
Talmud. Because they cover such a broad range of
topics and areas, it is difficult to outline a
consistent pattern to them. They apparently stem
from different reasoning, as well as from reliance
upon variant sources.
Nevertheless, there are broad themes
underlying the views of each scholar, even if at
times they appear self-contradictory. One of the
most famous disputes between Abaye and Rava
has to do with ye’ush she-lo mi-da’at
(“unconscious abandonment of hope,” in the case
of a lost object that was found before its owner
became aware of the loss; Bava Metzia 21b).
Abaye and Rava question at what point a person is
regarded as having abandoned hope of retrieving a
lost article. Is it from the moment that the article is
lost or only from the minute that the owner
becomes aware of the loss? This specific
discussion has important ramifications for all the
laws pertaining to objects lost and found, and it
determines the approach to such fundamental
questions as what is a lost item, and from what
point is a lost item considered ownerless.
Underlying this controversy is the basic issue
of retroactivity in halakha. Rava, who maintains
that there can be ye’ush she-lo mi-da’at – namely,
that the owner is regarded as having abandoned
hope of retrieval from the moment the article is
lost, even before becoming aware of the loss –
maintains that in this case, there is retroactivity;
Abaye, who claims that there cannot be ye’ush
she-lo mi-da’at, says that abandonment of hope
must be a defined, conscious act and consequently
holds that in this case, there can be no retroactive
applicability.
Abaye’s and Rava’s stances in this
controversy are not typical, since in other disputes,
which seemingly should lead to similar
conclusions, their positions are reversed. For
example, in the case of a scheming witness[9]
(Bava Kama 72b; Sanhedrin 27a), Abaye accepts
that there can be retroactive disqualification of
testimony and rules that a scheming witness is
retroactively disqualified. Rava, on the other hand,
claims that disqualification cannot apply
retroactively, but only from the point at which a
legal decision was made.
This seeming contradiction in Abaye’s
positions in the above two cases should not,
however, surprise us. The differences between
Abaye and Rava are not only legalistic in nature,
but are rooted in their respective worldviews as
well. In general, Abaye’s approach tends to be
legalistic, while Rava’s is realistic. Abaye tries, in
almost all cases, to present issues from the
structural point of view. In this, the predominant
influence is not that of his uncle Rabba, but of his
teacher Rav Yosef, the man of phenomenal
memory and precisely transmitted traditions.
Abaye follows both Rav Yosef’s method and
desire to preserve the entirety of ancient tradition
as well as his formal approach to that tradition. He
does not necessarily see legal principles in terms of
their impact on the community, but mainly as pure
juridical entities. In this he is totally consistent,
both when this calls for retroactive applicability
and when it does not. This is why he maintains
that a scheming witness’s testimony is invalidated
retroactively from the very moment that he lies,
and not from the time that the court declares it
false. He thinks that false testimony is inherently
invalid, regardless of anybody’s awareness of its
falsehood. Similarly, Abaye declares a lost object
to be ownerless only from the moment when the
owner becomes aware of the loss and despairs of
finding it; renunciation of an article depends upon
the owner’s awareness of the loss and not on the
time when it was actually lost.
In both these controversies, Abaye’s
approach is not pragmatic: his acceptance of
retroactivity (in the case of a scheming witness) is
liable to result in a breakdown of the entire system
of testimony, while his rejection of retroactivity (in
the case of lost objects) makes it virtually
impossible for a finder to keep his find, since it is
so very difficult to prove conclusively that the
owner has despaired. In both cases we see that for
Abaye, halakhic definitions must be precise, and
that it is irrelevant for him whether or not they are
workable in real life.
In these two particular cases, halakha was
established according to Abaye; but in the broad
scope of their controversies, Rava’s more complex
definitions are preferred over Abaye’s formalistic
conceptions. Rava, in his pragmatic approach,
adapts the law to real-life considerations that are
always present, even when not stated explicitly,
and bridges the discrepancies between law and
reality.
Abaye, too, sees the same problems. Yet,
unlike Rava, he does not attempt to reconcile
contradictions. For him, every legal issue is an
entity unto itself, and halakhic rulings are nearly
perfect, autonomous definitions. Abaye is not
troubled by the practical and theoretical problems
created by his approach. He leaves to others all the
questions of legal logic and social implications,
because – like a kohen – he is exclusively
interested in preserving basic principles in their
most pristine, pure form. For that reason, Abaye is
willing to accept things which other scholars find
unacceptable, such as variant textual readings,
discrepancies in the approach of one individual, or
inconsistencies in halakhic position. It is because
he perceives each instance as an independent
entity and is not all that interested in creating a
coherent and encompassing worldview.
The relationship between Abaye and Rava is
characterized by profound personal affinity despite
vast differences in outlook. This emerges clearly
from their personal lives, from their portraits as
sketched in the Talmud, and from the Torah which
they bequeathed to subsequent generations. They
were childhood friends and studied with the same
scholars.[10] Despite the disparity between the
poor boy and the rich boy, and later between the
man of misfortune and the man whose life was
always comfortable and complete, and despite
their ongoing controversies over a myriad of
issues, their close friendship lasted a lifetime.
Abaye and Rava, like the Study Houses which
they headed, never dissented over personal
matters, but always over basic principles; their
disputes stemmed from profound personal and
philosophical differences. Abaye, the “unfortunate
and wise” man[11] whose rulings were generally
not accepted as halakha, is nevertheless a
formidable participant in the halakhic dialectic
throughout the generations and stands, alongside
Rava, as one of the two pillars upon which the
Talmud rests.
[1]. Kiddushin 31b: “Rabbi Yoĥanan’s father died w hen his
mother conceived him, and his mother died w hen she bore
him. And Abaye w as likew ise.”
[2]. Rosh Hashana 18a: “Rabba and Abaye w ere of the house
of Eli. Rabba, w ho devoted himself to the Torah, lived for
forty years; Abaye, w ho devoted himself both to the Torah
and to charitable deeds, lived for sixty years.”
[3]. Sanhedrin 27a, and elsew here. Halakha is determined
according to Rava, except for six cases in w hich the law is
established according to Abaye’s opinion. The six cases are
referred to by the mnemonic י ע״ ל ק ג״םin w hich the
letters stand for various legal terms. יstands for ייאוש,
abandonment of a lost article ( Bava Metzia 21b); עstands
f o r עד זומם, a scheming w itness (referred to here, in
Sanhedrin 27a, and in Bava Kama 72b); לstands for לחי
ה עומד מא ליו, a pole put up accidentally ( Eruvin 15a); ק
stands for קידושין ש לא נמ ס רו ל ביאה, betrothal w hich
cannot result in actual cohabitation ( Kiddushin 51a); ג
stands for גי לוי ד ע ת ב גיטין, the act of revealing one’s
attitude indirectly in regard to a bill of divorce ( Gittin 34a);
מstands for מומ ר, an apostate or open opponent of
Jew ish law (referred to here, in Sanhedrin 27a).
[4]. Mo’ed Katan 28a: “At Rabba’s house there w ere sixty
bereavements.”
[5]. In a discussion about rising to show honor to one’s
teacher ( Kiddushin 33a), Abaye maintained that for a
preeminent teacher one must rise as soon as the teacher
comes into sight. He himself used to rise as soon as he saw
the ear of Rav Yosef’s donkey approaching.
[6]. More than once, Rav Yosef says: “I did not hear that
reported ruling,” and Abaye corrects him, saying: “You
yourself told us that ruling….” ( Eruvin 10a, 41a, 66b, 73a,
89b; Nedarim 41a; and elsew here).
[7]. E.g., in regard to the verse, “…the first tablets w hich you
did break, and you shall put them in the ark” (Deuteronomy
10:2), “Rav Yosef learnt: This teaches us that both the
tablets and the fragments of the tablets w ere deposited in
the ark. Hence w e learn that a scholar w ho has forgotten
his learning through no fault of his, must not be treated
w ith disrespect” ( Menaĥot 99a).
[8]. This w as true to such an extent, that w hen the Talmud
( Sukka 28a) w anted to say that the tanna Rabban Yoĥanan
ben Zakkai w as proficient in all the law s of the Torah and
did not leave a single matter, great or small, unstudied, it
says anachronistically that he w as proficient in the Ĥavayot
deAbaye veRava.
[9]. W itnesses w ho gave false testimony and are found out. It
is a Torah commandment to do to them w hat they
schemed to do to the person against w hom they gave false
testimony (Deuteronomy 19:16–19).
[10]. Berakhot 48a: “Abaye and Rava [w hen boys] w ere once
sitting in the presence of Rabba. Said Rabba to them: ‘To
w hom do w e address the benedictions?’ They replied: ‘To
the All-Merciful.’ ‘And w here does the All-Merciful abide?’
Rava pointed to the roof; Abaye w ent outside and pointed
to the sky. Said Rabba to them: ‘Both of you w ill become
Rabbis.’”
[11]. See Ecclesiastes 4:13.
Chapter thirteen
Rav Ashi
Rav Ashi, the head of the yeshiva at Sura, is
considered the editor, or rather the principal
architect, of the Babylonian Talmud. The Talmud
itself, which was sealed only after Rav Ashi’s
death, regards him as one of the three figures in
Jewish history who combined both Torah learning
and worldly greatness, and who were the sole
leaders of the Jewish people in their respective
periods.[1]
Torah and worldly matters were generally
mutually exclusive realms in Judaism – not for
political reasons, but as a function of the
characters and abilities of the personalities
involved. Nevertheless, throughout the generations
there always existed the aspiration that Torah and
worldly concerns be integrated in one person, that
those who master mundane affairs should also
have mastery of Torah and vice versa. Such a
synthesis, however, only seldom occurred, so that
alongside – sometimes in opposition to – the lay
leaders of the Jewish people were its spiritual
leaders, who often had no political significance
whatsoever.
It is therefore quite amazing that so very little
is known about Rav Ashi, a figure who filled such
a central historic role. We know nothing of his
family origins, not even his father’s name
(although it may be assumed that the great wealth
which sustained him was family heritage), nor do
we know who Rav Ashi’s teachers were. While we
find him in discussions with scholars of the
preceding generation, he never figures in them as
a pupil before his teachers. He appears instead a
disciple-colleague, that is, with a standing of his
own – even when he was very young, less than
twenty years old. Rav Ashi’s position in the
scholarly community was so extraordinary, that an
eminent sage such as Ravina (the First), a
prominent sage and considerably older than Rav
Ashi, considered himself Rav Ashi’s disciple-
colleague.[2]
Rav Ashi could not have been much older
than twenty when he attained full stature as head
of the Sura yeshiva, a position he held for some
sixty years.[3] This fact is quite surprising since
leadership of the great yeshivot of Sura and
Pumbedita was then a most distinguished and
influential role, both locally and for all Jewry.
When the Geonim wanted to say that someone
became head of a yeshiva, they used the phrase,
“Rabbi so-and-so reigned,” likening his status to
that of a king.
In Rav Ashi’s time, the yeshiva at Pumbedita
was destroyed, or at least ceased to function. The
Jewish community in the Land of Israel – suffering
greatly from the persecutions of the Byzantine
Emperors who strove to convert the Jews to
Christianity – no longer carried great spiritual
weight. Thus, the head of the Sura yeshiva was
not just first among equals in Babylonia, but the
foremost Jewish leader of the period. In the
political realm, too, Rav Ashi was considered the
uncontested de facto leader of the entire Jewish
world, whose authority was accepted even by the
exilarch (even though he had no blood ties to
him).
Rav Ashi left behind more than a monument.
He bequeathed his entire spiritual being within the
magnum opus of the Babylonian Talmud – not just
in the halakhic rulings that he himself established,
but also in all of the Talmudic discussions and
dicta in which he is not even mentioned. The
entire Babylonian Talmud is, in away, a reflection
of Rav Ashi’s figure, mode of thought, and
creativity; after all, everything in the Talmud is the
outcome of the unique pattern that he molded.
We know too little about the redaction of the
Talmud to establish whether it was done orally or
in writing. Given the method of Torah study in
those generations, the editing could indeed have
been done orally, and in this sense, the Babylonian
Talmud is a distillation, a sort of hologram of
Torah study as it was conducted in Rav Ashi’s
yeshiva and of contemporary life and events.
Over the sixty years in which Rav Ashi served
as the head of the Sura yeshiva, he taught one
tractate of the Mishna at each one of the Yarĥei
Kalla, along with its traditional commentaries as
they had been orally transmitted over the
generations. Unlike other scholars, however, Rav
Ashi worked systematically: each semester, a
different one of the sixty Mishna Tractates was
studied, so that over a span of thirty years, he
covered the entire Talmud. This review of all the
tractates was actually a first redaction of the
Babylonian Talmud. In the Talmud it is referred to
as the “mahadura kamma,” the “first review.” The
second review, “ mahadura batra,” is Rav Ashi’s
second overview of the Talmud, done in the
course of his second thirty years as head of the
yeshiva. The differences between the two versions
are recorded in various places in the Talmud. [4]
These two successive editions molded a particular
style of study, whether written or oral, and created
the basic pattern of the Talmud.
Thus, we owe the creation of the Babylonian
Talmud to the integration of Torah and worldly
greatness, combined with the longevity with which
Rav Ashi was blessed, and which enabled him to
consolidate and conclude the enterprise begun in
his youth.
The redaction of the Talmud was an
enormously complex undertaking due, inter alia, to
its unique structure. Although all Talmudic sugyot
start out in the Mishna, they then branch out – not
in a particularly logical order, but in a continuous
associative stream, one topic leading to another. In
terms of structure – although certainly not in
essence or content – the Talmud somewhat
resembles stream of consciousness novels. An
initial topic often contains another issue that
requires clarification, and in the course of
discussion it turns out that that second point, too,
needs to be elucidated. Thus the Talmud proceeds,
sailing from one topic to another, sometimes in
minor digressions of a line or two, sometimes in
lengthy diversions which extend over several pages
of text. Certain halakhot can therefore be found in
tractates whose central issue is totally unrelated.
The laws pertaining to mourning, for example, are
found in the Tractate of Mo’ed Katan; the laws of
Ĥanukka appear in the Tractate of Shabbat; and
the laws of tefillin appear in the Tractate of
Menahot.[5] These combinations are not
coincidental; the issues are indeed related, but the
links are associative and not logical.
The unique essence of the Talmud is further
accentuated when compared with another text that
is also a summary of the halakha: Maimonides’
legal code, Yad HaĤazaka . Maimonides’ book is
organized in coherent fashion; the topics and the
laws appear in logical order, in the appropriate
sections, whereas in the Talmud, topics seem to be
found everywhere and in every form. This,
however, is not a matter of coincidence or sloppy
editing, but the consequence of Rav Ashi’s overall
conception of the manner in which the Oral Law
should be transmitted to the coming generations.
Although the ostensible aim of the Talmud is
to synopsize the halakhot of the Oral Law, halakhic
decision is most definitely not its sole purpose.
Alongside the halakhic opinions that were accepted
in practice, the Talmud records dissenting opinions
as well. The Talmud is not an outline drawn up by
an individual in order to teach others or to
transmit conclusions; it is the actual give-and-take
itself, the live flow of the learning process. Rav
Ashi wished to preserve not the halakhic decisions
nor this or that Talmudic issue, but the very
movement of the study process, and that, within
the set context of a written book, which no longer
develops or regenerates itself. He is not like an
architect who builds a house; he is like an artist
who strives to breathe life into an inanimate
statue. Rav Ashi attempted to do the seemingly
impossible: to retain mobility and flexibility, the
unanswered question and the probing exploration,
within a format which is written, edited, and
concretely defined.
To prevent the Talmud from becoming a
random collection of discourses, Rav Ashi adopted
two principles simultaneously. First, he formulated
and encapsulated the history of ideas, the
progression of the most significant discussions
which took place in the three hundred years or
more before his time. Thus he summarized not
just current solutions for contemporary problems,
but the major issues that had engaged the minds
of the scholars throughout those generations. More
than once he created entire constructs of
postulations that do not arrive at any final
conclusion. For him, it was not the “bottom line”
that mattered but the process – the question, and
on occasion even the error. It was critical to
demonstrate how decisions were derived, and
what obstacles and problems were overcome along
the way.
Rav Ashi’s second principle was to organize
the material as precisely as possible. And indeed,
despite the associative flow from subject to
subject, each individual sentence is very accurately
edited in terms of word order, sentence order, the
syntactic position of proper names, nuances, etc.
For instance: “Rabbi so-and-so said” means
something different from “said Rabbi so-and-so”;
questions that come in a sequence are always
consecutive, not random; when two halakhic
opinions are brought, the second one is always
halakhically binding; and so on. All these, and
many other elements, are the basis for future
determination of the halakha.
The twofold difficulty in editing the Talmud
lay, then, in preserving mobility and flexibility
within a fixed entity while maintaining precision.
Rav Ashi had to ensure that those seemingly
inconclusive discussions and questions and
answers would serve as well-defined and
exceedingly accurate material, from which it would
be possible to draw practical conclusions in the
future. What may, at first glance, appear as
haphazard Talmudic redaction is, in fact, the result
of great meticulousness which succeeded in
retaining the sense of freedom while presenting
exactly what the sages wished to express.
[1]. Gittin 59a: “Betw een Moshe and Rebbi w e do not find one
w ho w as supreme both in Torah and in w orldly affairs…
betw een Rebbi and Rav Ashi there w as no one w ho w as
supreme both in Torah and in w orldly affairs.”
[2]. Eruvin 63a: “Ravina examined the slaughterer’s knife in
[the tow n of] Babylon. Said Rav Ashi to him, ‘W hy does the
Master act in this manner?’ The other replied ‘…and I too
am the Master’s colleague as w ell as disciple.’”
[3]. This, according to Geonic traditions, w hich are considered
reliable and accurate, having been based upon notes and
w ritten material of the yeshivot themselves.
[4]. Bava Batra 157b: “Ravina said: ‘In the first version, Rav Ashi
told us [that] the first [creditor] acquired [the right over
the land]; the second version of Rav Ashi [how ever], told
us [that the land w as] to be divided. And the law is [that
the land] is to be divided.’” See Rashi w ho quotes from the
Responsa of Rav Ĥai Gaon.
[5]. Tractate Mo’ed Katan deals w ith the intermediate days of
the holidays; Tractate Shabbat deals w ith the law s of the
Sabbath; and Tractate Menaĥot deals w ith Temple
offerings.
Appendices
Glossary
Aggada: A genre that includes a variety of stories
and comments about Biblical heroes and other
Jewish historical figures, parables, aphorisms,
and homilies, which are found in the Talmud
and in the Midrash.
Amora (pl. amoraim): Talmudic sage from after the
tannaitic period until the final redaction of the
Talmud (220–500 C.E.). The amoraim
interpreted the statements of the tannaim and
expanded upon them.
Av Beit Din: The greatest man in the Sanhedrin,
second only to the Nasi; head of the beit din.
Avot deRabbi Natan: A small tractate of the
Talmud, a kind of tosefta or baraita to Pirkei
Avot, attributed to Rabbi Natan the
Babylonian.
Bar Kokhba: Shimon bar Kokhba (known also as
Bar Koziva), leader of the Great Revolt. Rabbi
Akiva, and many others, thought he was the
Messiah.
Baraita (pl. Baraitot): Compilations of halakha
which were not included in the Mishna.
Beit Din: Rabbinical court.
Beit Hillel: The students and the students-of-the-
students of Hillel the Elder (see Chapter 1).
They lived in the last generations of the
Second Temple Era and the first generations
after the destruction and generally tended to a
more lenient approach to halakha.
Glossary
Beit Midrash (pl. batei midrash): A house for the
study of the Mishna and the Talmud, as well
as for prayer (see also Yeshiva).
Beit Shammai: The students and the students-of-
the-students of Shammai the Elder (see
Chapter 2). They lived in the last generations
of the Second Temple Era and the first
generations after the destruction and generally
tended to a more strict interpretation of
halakha.
Kohen: A priest who performs the holy tasks of the
Temple worship; a descendant of Aaron.
Exilarch: The leader of the Jewish communities in
Babylon (parallel to the title of Nasi in the
Land of Israel). All the exilarchs traced their
descent from the House of David.
Gaon (pl. Geonim): See: Geonic Period.
Geonic Period: 589–1038 C.E., over 450 years in
which the Geonim, the heads of the
Babylonian yeshivot in Sura and Pumbedita,
served as the supreme halakhic authority in
the Jewish world.
Great Revolt: A Jewish revolt against the Roman
conquest led by Bar Kochba. The revolt took
place between 132–135 C.E., some sixty years
after the destruction of the Second Temple. It
started out auspiciously and aroused great
Messianic hopes. It ended, however, with the
fall of the city of Beitar and devastating
destruction: over 500,000 Jews died, many
others were sold in slavery, and the land of
Judea was practically laid waste. In addition,
the Romans enacted severe antireligious
decrees and executed the Ten Martyrs.
Halakha: The legal part of the Torah (both the
Written and the Oral) which defines actual
practice. Its origins are Divine. Its principles
are written in the Five Books of Moses and
greatly expanded in the Mishna, the Talmud,
and later codes.
Halakhic: Pertaining to halakha.
Halakhot: Specific halakhic rulings.
Ĥanukka: An eight-day festival of candle-lighting,
starting on the 25th of the month of Kislev.
This festival celebrates the purification of the
Temple in Jerusalem and the resumption of
Temple worship in the Hasmonean period
(2nd to 1st century B.C.E.).
Havayot deRav uShmuel; Havayot deAbaye veRava:
Investigative discussions and arguments
between sages that form the basis for
Talmudic discussion and study throughout the
ages. The most famous are the discussions
between Rav and Shmuel (see Chapters 8–9)
and those between Abaye (see Chapter 12)
and Rava.
Herod: King of Judea between 37 and 4 B.C.E. Of
Edomite origin, he entered into the dynasty of
Hasmonean Kings by marrying Miriam the
Hasmonean (whom he eventually executed)
and ruled thanks to Roman support. Herod
was a Hellenistic-style despot, deeply despised
and hated by the Jewish leadership and
masses throughout his reign. He severely
weakened all the autonomous Jewish
institutions and abolished, de facto, the rule of
Torah. As a gesture of loyalty to Judaism, he
undertook the gigantic project of renovating
the Temple in Jerusalem, making it the most
beautiful edifice of the period.
Lulav: A palm leaf before it is fully developed and
opened. It is one of the four species which
Jews are commanded to take during the
Festival of Sukkot. The other three are the
myrtle, willow branch, and etrog – a species
of citrus fruit.)
Megillat Ta’anit: An ancient book, part of which was
composed before the destruction of the
Second Temple. It includes a list of thirty-five
days commemorated as festivals, in which it
was forbidden to fast. Its rulings were in force
until the third century C.E., when it was
annulled by the sages.
Middot (principles): The summary of the principles
and methods of exegesis and determining
halakhic rulings from the Written Torah, as set
by Hillel the Elder and subsequently by Rabbi
Yishmael. See Chapter 1.
Midrash: An exegetic part of the Oral Law which
explains the Written Torah by way of parable,
Aggada, and homilies; a term which includes
various collections of homilies, etc., of our
sages.
Midrash Aggada: Aggadic exegesis; ancient
collections of aggada. The main ones are
Midrash Rabba (on the Five Books of Moses
and the Five Scrolls) and Midrash Tanĥuma.
Midrash Halakha: Halakhic exegesis; ancient books
of Jewish Oral Law which deal with halakha.
The most important are Mekhilta (on Exodus),
Sifra (on Leviticus), and Sifrei (on Numbers
and Deuteronomy).
Glossary
Mishna: The first and most fundamental collection
of halakha of the Oral Torah. Its contents
were transmitted orally for many generations
until they were committed to writing by Rebbi
(see Chapter 7). The Mishna is divided into six
volumes (sedarim ), each volume (seder) is
divided into tractates, each tractate into
chapters, and each chapter into mishnayot
(singular – mishna). The six sedarim are:
Zera’im (agricultural laws), Mo’ed (holy days),
Nashim (family laws), Nezikin (civil law),
Kodashim (Temple related), Taharot (ritual
purity).
Mishnaic Period: Fourth century B.C.E. to ca. 200
C.E., the period in which the collections of
halakhot that served as the basis for the
Mishna were formed, and the Mishna was
compiled.
mitzva (pl. mitzvot): Divine commandments as they
are to be found in the Written and Oral Torah
and in the writings of our sages.
Nasi (pl. Nesi’im ): The leader of the Sanhedrin (see
al so Av Beit Din). There was no clear-cut
division of function between the two heads of
the Sanhedrin, except that the Nasi sometimes
also wielded political power.
Pairs: The five pairs of Jewish sages during the
Second Temple period, in the period between
the Great Assembly and the first of the
tannaim (see Pirkei Avot 1:1–15). One of
them was Nasi and the other Av Beit Din. The
pairs were: Yossi ben Yo’ezer and Yossi ben
Yoĥanan; Yehoshua ben Peraĥya and Nitai
HaArbeli; Yehuda ben Tabbai and Shimon ben
Shettaĥ; Shemaya and Avtalyon; Hillel and
Shammai.
Perushim (Pharisees): The main sect of sages and
Torah scholars who studied and expanded the
Oral Torah.
Peshat: The simplest, most literal, and “common
sense” meaning of the Torah and the Talmud.
Pilpul: In its positive sense, the term refers to the
most profound and exhaustive kind of
discussion, which deals with every possible
aspect of the issue at hand; it is compared to
a brave fighter who waves his sword deftly in
every possible direction. In the negative
sense, it refers to the kind of Talmudic
discussion that developed in the course of
time, which involved excessive hair-splitting
and overanalysis of issues, taking them out of
context and thus distorting them.
Pirkei Avot: A tractate of the Mishna that contains
aphorisms and practical and moral guidance
from our sages.
Principles: See Middot.
Rashi: Rabbi Shlomo Yitzĥaki (Trois, France, 1040–
1105), the greatest Talmud commentator of
all generations and among the most important
Biblical commentators.
Rosh HaShana: The Jewish New Year, a festival
which takes place on the first and second days
of the month of Tishrei. It is considered the
day of judgment for the entire universe. The
shofar is blown.
Sanhedrin: The council of elders and the supreme
Jewish court of seventy-one judges in the
Land of Israel, which first convened at the
Temple.
Semikha: Literally, “Laying of Hands”: (1) to
transfer the authority for making halakhic
rulings and for judging from one sage to
another; (2) the person who brings a sacrifice
lays his hands on the head of the designated
animal, prior to sacrifice, to confess his sins,
etc. The two “layings of hands” are similar: a
person thereby transfers his intention to the
person/animal upon whom the hands are
placed.
Shabbat boundaries: A radius of 2000 cubits
outside a settled area in which one is allowed
to walk on Shabbat.
Shekhina: One of the names for the Divine
Presence in this world.
Shema: Three short Torah portions (Deuteronomy
6:4–9 and 11:13–21, and Numbers 15:37–
41) which are recited every morning and
evening and before going to sleep.
Shofar: A wind instrument made of ram’s horn,
now blown only on Rosh HaShana and Yom
Kippur, but used in ancient times for
convening the army and declaring festivals.
Sifra: See Midrash Halakha.
Sifrei: See Midrash Halakha.
Sukka (Tabernacle): A temporary structure made of
wooden planks, branches, palm leaves, etc., in
which Jews are commanded to live during the
seven-day festival of Sukkot.
Sukkot: A festival celebrated from the 15th to the
21st of the month of Tishrei, by living in the
Sukka, taking the four species (see lulav), and
rejoicing.
Glossary
Sugya (pl. sugyot): A wide-ranging treatment of a
particular topic by way of halakhic dialectical
investigation of its tannaitic sources. These
oral investigations were later edited and
recorded and constitute the basic literary units
of the Talmud.
Tallit: A four-cornered garment, now worn during
prayer and at the time of the Mishna and the
Talmud worn all day long. The Torah
commands Jews to put tzitzit, a special fringe,
on each one of the four corners of the
garment, as a reminder to perform all of
God’s commandments.
Talmud: The most important book in the history
and culture of the Jewish people, the Talmud
includes the Mishna. It was created over the
course of some 1,000 years, both in the Land
of Israel and in Babylon. There are, in fact,
two Talmuds:
The Babylonian Talmud was compiled in
various Yeshivot by amoraim from Babylon
and from the Land of Israel. It was edited by
Rav Ashi (see Chapter 13) and finalized in the
following generation, in the beginning of the
6th century C.E., by Rav Yossi. It contains 37
Tractates, in the order of the six Sedarim (see
Mishna) as follows: From Zera’im , only to
Tractate Berakhot; all of Mo’ed, Nashim ,
Nezikin, and Kodashim , and from Taharot
only to Tractate Nidda. It is written in a
mixture of Hebrew and Babylonian Aramaic
and has been most widely studied by Jews all
over the world and throughout all
generations. Numerous commentaries on it
have been written, most notably those of
Rashi and the Tosafot.
The Jerusalem Talmud was composed
by amoraim in the Land of Israel, especially in
the cities of Tiberias, Zippori, and Caesarea,
as well as by some Babylonian amoraim. It
was edited mainly by Rabbi Yoĥanan (see
chapter 10) and finalized some 150 years
before the Babylonian Talmud. It includes four
full tractates: Zera’im , Mo’ed, Nashim , and
Nezikin, and a part of Tractate Nidda. It is
written in the Israeli-Aramaic dialect and has
been studied and expounded much less than
the Babylonian Talmud.
Tanĥuma: See Midrash Aggada.
Tanna (pl. tannaim): A sage during and after the
Second Temple period, from Shimon
HaTzadik (the end of the 3rd century B.C.E.)
until the students of Rebbi, in the beginning of
the 3rd century C.E. (see chapter 7). The
Tannaim created the Mishna, the Tosefta, the
Midrash, and more.
Tefillin (phylacteries): The Torah (Deuteronomy
6:8) commands men to tie tefillin on their arm
and head each day. They consist of cube-
shaped leather boxes containing parchment on
which four passages from the Torah
(Deuteronomy 6:4–9; 11:13–21; Exodus
13:1–10; 13:11–16) are written. The boxes
are each attached to long black leather straps
used to tie them to the head and the arm.
Tefillin are holy and should not be worn in an
unclean place or at a time when a person
cannot maintain his body in a state of
cleanliness. In ancient times, tefillin were
worn the entire day; now, however, it is
customary to wear them only during the
morning prayer. Tefillin are not worn on
Shabbat and festivals.
Ten Martyrs : Ten great Jewish personalities of the
Tannaitic Period executed (sometimes very
cruelly) by the Romans for continuing to teach
Torah in spite of Roman anti-religious
decrees. They were: Rabbi Akiva, Rabbi
Ĥanina ben Tradion, Rabbi Yishmael the High
Priest, Rabbi Yehuda ben Bava, Rabbi Ĥutzpit
the Interpreter, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel,
Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua, Rabbi Ĥanina ben
Ĥakhinai, Rabbi Yeshevav the Scribe, Rabbi
Yehuda ben Damma.
Tosafot: Commentaries, criticism, and new
interpretations to the Talmud which were
added by Rashi’s grandchildren and other
contemporary Rabbis to Rashi’s commentary
on the Babylonian Talmud.
Tosefta: The collection of halakha which was
compiled by the last tannaim, Rabbi Ĥiyya and
Rabbi Oshaya, as additions to the Mishna.
Tzedukim (Sadducees): A sect that existed in Judea
during the Second Temple era, which denied
the validity of the Oral Torah and was
therefore always in confrontation with the
Perushim.
Tzitzit: The Torah commands (Numbers 15:37–41)
men to place fringes on the four corners of
garments with four or more corners. The
fringes are made up of four threads, generally
of wool, which are folded over to make up
eight. The upper part of the tzitzit is knotted
in a prescribed manner, and from it hang the
eight half-threads. Originally, three of the four
threads were white, and the fourth was dyed
blue. The obligation of tzitzit applies only
during the daytime (see tallit).
Glossary
Yad HaĤazaka : A monumental work by
Maimonides, unique in the history of Jewish
religious literature subsequent to the Mishna,
in which the entire contents of the Oral Torah
is summarized in perfect logical order, in a
lucid, authoritative, and unequivocal style and
in beautiful Hebrew prose.
Yarĥei Kalla : The months of Adar (at the end of
winter) and Elul (at the end of summer) in
which Torah scholars in Babylonia would
convene in the yeshivot in order to study
Torah.
Yeshiva (pl. yeshivot): A house for the study of
Mishna and Talmud (See also beit midrash).
Yom Kippur: The Day of Atonement, the 10th day
of the month of Tishrei. A day of fasting and
prayer, considered the holiest day of the year.
Annotated Bibliography
Arukh: A comprehensive alphabetical lexicon for
the Talmud and the Midrash, containing
dictionary definitions and extensive
explanations, sources, and commentaries,
mainly from the Geonic period. Was written
by Rabbi Natan ben Yeĥiel of Rome (ca.
1035–1106). Has been widely used
throughout the ages by Jewish scholars the
world over.
Avot deRabbi Natan: See Glossary.
Babylonian Talmud: See Glossary.
Jerusalem Talmud: See Glossary.
Maimonides: Commentary to the Mishna: One of
the most important commentaries on the
Mishna, written by Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon
(Maimonides), the greatest Jewish Medieval
sage (1138–1204). Written originally in
Arabic, between 1161–1168.
Maimonides: Yad HaĤazaka: See Glossary.
Megillat Ta’anit: See Glossary.
Midrash Raba (on the Pentateuch and the five
Scrolls): A collection of Midrashei Aggada
which were edited in various periods and put
together as one book by the printers. Over
time, it became immensely popular among
scholars as well as the simple folk. A number
of important commentaries were written on it.
Midrash Shoĥer Tov : Midrash Aggada on Psalms.
The date and place of composition are
unknown.
Annotated Bibliography
Midrash Tanĥuma (Buber edition): Midrash Aggada
on the Pentateuch, attributed to Rabbi
Tanĥuma bar Abba and probably composed in
the Land of Israel towards the end of the
fourth century C.E. It is based on the three-
year cycle of Torah reading. Its basic structure
is that of a halakhic question, followed by an
answer and an extended homily with parables
and stories.
Pesikta deRav Kahana: An ancient Midrash Aggada
on some of the Torah portions and the
Haftarot (portions from the Prophets that
follow the Torah reading), probably composed
in the Land of Israel around the 5th century
C.E. It contains homilies for the Shabbat of
Ĥanukka, Pesaĥ, Shavuot, Rosh HaShana,
Yom Kippur, Sukkot, and others.
Pirkei Avot: See Glossary.
Pirkei deRabbi Eliezer: A Midrash Aggada from the
8th century, of which we have only the first 54
chapters. It begins with the personal history of
Rabbi Eliezer the Great (see chapter 5) and
then gives a chronological description of
events from Creation to the Israelite
wanderings in the desert. It was obviously
written by one person and most probably
drew not only from the Bible but also from the
Apocrypha, the apocalyptic literature of the
Second Temple period, and Arabic folk tales
of the Ummayah dynasty period.
Rabbi Ovadia of Bertinoro (erroneously named
“Bartenura”): An Italian-born rabbi and Jewish
leader who emigrated to the Land of Israel,
was the leader of the Jewish community of
Jerusalem, and died in Jerusalem c. 1516. He
is famous mainly for his simple and clear
commentary on the Mishna, which has been
widely studied, and has had two important
commentaries written on it.
Rashbam (on Pesaĥim ): Commentary of Rashbam
to Tractate Pesaĥim . Rashbam, an
abbreviation for Rabbi Shmuel ben Meir, was
Rashi’s grandson and student (France, 1080–
1160), and one of the greatest Tosafists (see
Glossary: Tosafot) and Biblical commentators.
His commentary is characterized by strict
literal interpretation.
Rashi’s commentary to the Babylonian Talmud: The
most important commentary on the Talmud,
written by Rabbi Shlomo Yitzĥaki (Rashi); see
Glossary.
Sifra and Sifrei: Midrash Halakha for the books of
Leviticus (Sifra), and Numbers and
Deuteronomy (Sifrei). They are, in fact,
collections of baraitot compiled and edited by
various editors in the Land of Israel, around
the end of the fourth century C.E. These
commentaries refer, in order, to each chapter
and verse, and sometimes to each word, in
the respective books. See Glossary.
Tanna d’Vei Eliyahu: Also known as Seder Eliyahu.
It is a unique Midrash Aggada, written in very
personal and poetic language. The format is
the tales of a traveling sage. The book has an
ethical-didactic bent and deals mainly with the
Torah commandments and the reasons for
them, Torah study, prayer, and other
religious-ethical values, as reflected in the
stories of the Patriarchs. The book is divided
in two parts: Seder Eliyahu Raba and Seder
Eliyahu Zuta. The time and place of
composition are unknown.
Teshuvot HaGeonim , Sha’arei Teshuva : During the
Geonic Period, a vast literary body of
questions-and-answers was composed as a
result of intense correspondence between the
heads of the Babylonian Yeshivot of Sura and
Pumbedita and Jews from all over the
Diaspora. This book is one of many to have
been published. A large portion of this
literature is still in manuscripts.
Tosefta: See Glossary.
A Historical Framework
Pre-Tannaitic and Tannaitic Period
Name and Historical Events
Dates Generation in the Land of World Events
Israel
4th
Century Shimon The conquest of
B.C.E. haTzaddik the Land of Israel Greek rule in
3rd Antigonus of by Alexander the the East
Century Sokho Great
B.C.E.
Yossi ben
Yo’ezer
2nd Yossi ben
Century Yoĥanan Hasmonean Period Decline of the
B.C.E. Yehoshua Seleucid pow er
ben
Peraĥya
Nitai haArbeli
Yehuda ben
Tabbai
1st Shimon ben Alexander Yannai
Century
B.C.E. Shettaĥ
Shemaya,
Avtalyon
30 Hillel Rise of the
B.C.E.– Shammai Herodian Period Roman Empire
B.C.E.– Shammai Herodian Period Roman Empire
1. Gamliel I in the East;
20 C.E. HaZaken Augustus
2. Shimon
ben
Gamliel I
Yoĥanan
40 ben
C.E.–80 Zakkai
C.E. 3. Eliezer
ben Destruction of the Vespasian, Titus
80
C.E.– Hyrcanus Second Temple
110 Yehoshua
C.E. ben
Ĥanania
Elisha ben
Avuya
(Aĥer)
110
C.E.– 4. Akiva
135 5. Shimon
C.E. ben
135 Gamliel II Bar Kokhba Revolt Hadrian
C.E.– Shimon bar
170 Yoĥai Meir
C.E.
170 6. Yehuda Caracalla,
C.E.– Final redaction of
200 HaNasi the Mishna Alexander
C.E. (Rebbi) Severus
A Historical Framework
The Amoraic Period
Dates Name and Generation World Events
The Land Babylonia
of Israel
Transitional Oshaya
Period Rabba
200 C.E.– Bar Kappara
220 C.E. Ĥiyya
1. Ĥanina Rav
bar Ĥama Shmuel
220 C.E.– Yannai Huna
250 C.E. Yehoshua Yehuda
ben Levi The Sassanid
250 C.E.– 2. ben kingdom in
290 C.E. Yoĥanan Yehezkel Babylonia
290 C.E.– Resh Rabba bar
320 C.E. Naĥmani
Lakish Yosef bar
3. Ammi, Ĥiyya
Assi, Zera
4. Hillel II, Christianity
320 C.E.– Yonah, Abaye, becomes an
Yossi bar Rava,
350 C.E. Zevida Rami bar officially
350 C.E.– 5. Mana II, Ĥama recognized religion
375 C.E. Tanĥuma Pappa in the Roman
Empire
bar Abba
375 C.E.– Ashi, Final redaction of
425 C.E. 6 Ravina I the Talmud
Roman Empire
425 C.E.– 7 Mar bar Roman Empire
divided into East
460 C.E. Rav Ashi and W est
Fall of the Roman
Empire in the
460 C.E.– Rabbah W est
500 C.E. 8 Tosafaah Final redaction of
Ravina II
the Babylonian
Talmud
A Historical Framework
Index
A
Abaye, 85–91
disputes w ith Rava, 88–91
family of, 86–87
halakhic opinions of, 86 n 3
inconsistency of, 89–91
teachers of, 86–87
Abba bar Abba (Shmuel’s father), 67
Abba bar Aivo, Rabbi. See Rav
Aggada, 41, 71
Akiva, Rabbi, 3
and Elisha ben Avuya “Aĥer,” 47, 50
disciples of, 76 n 4
entering the Orchard, 45
and gathering traditions, 55
teachers of, 33, 40
Ami, Rabbi, and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 77
Amoraim, 59, 60
Abaye as, 85
Rabbi Yoĥanan as, 71, 74
Resh Lakish as, 79
Shmuel and Rav as, 65–66, 72
Antonius, Caesar, 52 n 2, 52 n 3; and Rebbi, 52
Ashi, Rav, 93–98
and Babylonian Talmud, 62, 93, 95–97, 106
death of, 93
as head of yeshiva of Sura, 93, 94–95
influence of, 93–95
Asi, Rabbi, and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 77, 82
Assimilation, of Elisha ben Avuya, 44, 45
Astronomy, and Shmuel, 67
Av Beit Din , Shammai as, 9
Avot deRabbi Natan , 49, 50
Avtalyon, and Hillel, 2
Azaria, Rabbi Elazar ben,
as Nasi, 29
B
Babylonia
Hillel from, 1, 2, 7, 11
Jew ish center in, 60, 66
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 75–76
Rav in, 59, 60, 61, 62, 64
Shmuel and Rav in, 69
yeshivot in, 59, 64, 69, 94–95
Baraita, 38, 81
Bar Kappara, 82
Batei Midrash , 10, 28, 55, 61
admission to, 2, 7
decision making in, 2–3, 37–40
expulsions from, 75
and Elisha ben Avuya, 44
and Hillel, 2, 7
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 27, 28
and Rabbi Eliezer, 38–40
and Rabbi Yirmiya, 75, 75 n 2
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 72, 74
Rav’s, 59, 62
Index
Resh Lakish in, 80–82
See also yeshivot
Beit Din , Rav as judge in, 59–60
Beit Hillel, 6
and Beit Shammai, 10–15
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 17
and Rabbi Eliezer, 37–38
and Rabbi Yehoshua, 27–28, 31
Beit Shammai, 31
and Beit Hillel, 10–15, 27
and Rabbi Eliezer, 28, 37
and Rabbi Yehoshua, 27
Ben Batiaĥ, in Great Revolt, 21
Bnei Batira, and Hillel, 2–3
Byzantine Emperors,
persecution by, 94
C
Creation, Shammai vs. Hillel on, 14–15
E
Education
of Elisha ben Avuya, 44
of Hillel, 2
of Rav, 59–60
of Resh Lakish, 79
“Eighteen, the,” in the Talmud, 13
Elazar ben Arakh, Rabbi,
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 37
Elazar ben Pedat, Rabbi, and Rabbi
Yoĥanan, 76, 81
“Elder, the,” use of term, 1
Eliezer, ben Hyrkanus, Rabbi, 35–42
death of, 40, 43
ostracism of, 40–41
personality of, 28–29, 36–37
and Rabbi Akiva, 33
and Rabbi Yehoshua, 27, 30
w ife of, 28 n 3
Elisha ben Avuya (“Aĥer”), 43–50
death of, 43, 49
descendants of, 48
personality of, 43, 47–48
tomb of, 49
Exilarch
and Rav Ashi, 94
and Shmuel, 68
G
Gamliel, Rabban Shimon ben
and Hillel dynasty, 19, 23
and Rabbi Eliezer, 38
and Rabbi Yehoshua vs.
Rabbi Eliezer, 30, 40
and Sanhedrin , 29–30
Geonic period, Rav’s yeshiva in, 62
Great Revolt
effects of, 51
and Elisha, 45, 47
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 18, 19
and Rabbi Yehoshua, 31, 33
and Yehuda HaNasi, 51, 54, 55
Greek culture, and Elisha
ben Avuya, 44
H
Halakha, 57, 96–97
decision-making process for, 3, 96–98
and Hillel, 6
and majority rule, 30, 38–39
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 71–72, 74–75
disputes about, 10–11
betw een Rabbi Yoĥanan and Resh Lakish, 82
betw een Rabbis Yehoshua and Eliezer, 28, 42
betw een Rava and Abaye, 88–91
Shammai vs. Hillel on, 12–14
effects of Second Temple
destruction on, 23–24
importance of Mishna to, 74–75
and Oral Torah, 53, 55–56
retroactivity of, 88–89
rulings about Abaye’s, 86, 91
and pow er of Sanhedrin , 10
precedence of Rabbi Eliezer, 37
Rabbi Yoĥanan’s, 75
Rav’s, 68
Resh Lakish’s, 83–84
Shmuel’s, 68
Herod, King, 3
Ĥanina ben Dosa, Rabbi,
Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai on, 19–20
Ĥavayot deAbaye veRava, 65, 88
Ĥavayot deRav uShmuel, 63, 65
Hebrew , Rebbi’s attitude tow ard, 56
Hillel, Rabbi, 1–7
influence of, 3
personality of, 4–6, 11–13
and Shammai, 10–15
students of, 4, 17
vision of, 6–7
Hillel dynasty, 3,
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 19, 20, 23
and Rabbi Yehoshua, 30
Ĥiyya the Great, Rabbi
disciples of, 72
uncle of Rav, 59–61
Ĥizkiyya, King (of Judea),
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 24–25
Ĥizkiyya, Rabbi, and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 72
House of David
descendants of, 1, 60
I
Israel
and Babylonia, 59–60
Hillel in, 1–2, 7
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 71–72, 76
Rav in, 61
under Romans, 79–80
and Shmuel, 66–67
Torah study in, 83
J
Judaism
crises of, 45–46, 64
desertion by Elisha ben Avuya, 43, 44–50
periods of, 60, 62
persecution of, 94
survivival of, 21–24, 32–33
See also Babylonia; Leadership, Jew ish
Judea
after Great Revolt, 51–52
kings of, 3, 24
Judicial system, Exilarch and
Shmuel in, 68
K
Karna, in Babylonia, 61
Kohen , Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai as, 19
L
Law s
civil, 68
religious (see Halakha)
Leadership, Jew ish
after Rebbi and Rabbi Hoyya, 61
Hillel dynasty, 3
move to Yavneh, 22
Nasi vs. Sages, 29–30
by Rabbi Yehoshua, 32–33
by Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 18
by Rabbi Yoĥanan, 71–72
by Resh Lakish, 83
Sanhedrin in, 2
Index
by Shammai, 9
spiritual and political, 3, 51, 59–61
Levites, 28, 35
Lulav, 23 n 24
M
Maimonides, Moses ben
commentary on the Mishna, 19 n 14
legal code by, 96
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 74
Majority rule, in halakhic decisions, 3, 30, 38–39
Mar Ukba, as Exilarch, 68
Megillat Ta’anit , 19
Meir, Rabbi
as disciple of “Aĥer”, 47, 49–50
and Mishna, 55
and tomb of Elisha, 49
Menaĥem, 9
Midrash Aggada, 62
Midrash Halakha, Hillel’s rules about, 3
Mishna
compiled by Rebbi, 53–56
Hebrew of, 56–57
ongoing w ork on, 74–75
and Rav, 60
Mishna Tractates, and Rav Ashi, 95
Mishnaic Period, 48, 60
Mitzvot, 6, 48 n 11
Moses
Rabbi Eliezer as descendent of, 35, 41
Mourners of Zion, and Rabbi Yehoshua, 32–33
N
Nasi
Azaria, Rabbi Elazar ben as, 29
Hillel as, 1, 3, 5, 9
Rabban Gamliel as, 19, 21, 23, 28, 29, 30
Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai as, 17, 21, 23
Rebbi as, 52
status of, 3
O
Oral Torah
and compilation of Mishna, 53–56
transmission of, 9, 54–57
Orchard, entering the, 45
Ordination
of rabbis, 66
of sages, 54
Oshaya, Rabbi, 82
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 72
“Oven of Akhnai” incident, 38
P
Pairs, 9, 65, 88
Passover, Shabbat on, 2
Peshat , 62, 75
Pirkei Avot , sayings of Hillel in, 6
Pharisees ( Perushim)
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 18–19
and Sadducees ( Tzedukim), 18–19
Physician, Shmuel as, 86
Pilpul, 62, 75
Pirkei Avot , statements by Elisha in, 49–50
Pumbedita, yeshiva at, 69, 94
Purity, disputes over, 12, 13, 14, 30
R
Rabba bar Naĥmani
and Abaye, 85–88, 89
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 72
Rabban, use of term, 17
Rabbi, use of term, 9
Rav, use of term, 62
Rav (Rabbi Abba bar Aivo), 59–64, 65–66
death of, 67, 69, 72
disciples of, 62, 63–64, 72
halakhic rulings by, 68
influence of, 62–63
personality of, 63–64, 63–64 n 9
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 72, 76
and Shmuel, 65–70
as student of Rebbi, 53, 59–60
as tanna, 60
tzitzit and tefillin of, 64, 64 n 4
Rav Yosef, and Abaye, 87–89
Rava, and Abaye, 86, 88–91
Rebbi, See Yehuda HaNasi, Rabbi
Repentance, Elisha’s lack of, 47–48, 50
Resh Lakish, 79–84
death of, 83, 84
family of, 82
as gladiator, 80
halakhic rulings by, 83–84
personality of, 80–81, 82–83
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 76–77, 80–82, 84
teachers of, 82
Romans
and Elisha ben Avuya, 46
and Hillel dynasty, 19
Jew s under, 51–52
and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 21–22
and Rabbi Yehoshua, 31–32
and Yehuda HaNasi, 51–52
Rosh HaShana, 23 n 24
S
Sadducees ( Tzedukim), and
Pharisees, 18–19
Sages, 80
and Hebrew , 56
and Oral Torah, 53, 54–55
ordination of, 54
in “oven of Akhnai” incident, 38–40
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 3
Sanhedrin , 10, 64
decision making by, 29–30
disputes in, 9–10
Hillel in, 1–3
Shammai in, 9
Second Temple, 56
destruction of, 10, 17–18, 32–33
Rabbi Hillel in period of, 1
Semikha (ordination), 54
Shabbat, 2, 23 n 24, 37, 47, 48 n 9, 54 n 6, 63 n 9
Shammai, 9–15
disputes w ith Hillel, 10–15
personality of, 11–13
Shela, Rav, 61, 63
Shema, 13
Shemaya, and Hillel, 2
Shettaĥ, Shimon ben, 19
Shimon ben Gamliel, Rabban. See Gamliel, Rabban Shimon ben
Shimon ben Lakish. See Resh Lakish
Shmuel, 65–70
appearance of, 65
death of, 72
in Babylonia, 61, 63
disciples of, 69–70, 72, 76
halakhic rulings by, 68
and lack of ordination, 66, 66 n 2
personality of, 67, 69
and Rav, 65–66, 67–70
Shofar, 23 n 24
Sugya ( Sugyot ), 57, 81, 96
Sukkot, 13, 6 n 7
Sura, yeshiva at, 62
Rav, founder of, 62, 69
Rav Ashi as head of, 94–95
T
Talmud
Babylonian, 70
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 71–72, 75
Rav and Shmuel in, 59, 63, 65
redaction by Rav Ashi, 62, 93, 95–98
Index
Babylonian vs. Jerusalem, 67, 72
disputes recorded in
of Rabbi Yoĥanan and Resh Lakish, 81–82
of Rava and Abaye in, 88–91
Jerusalem, 83
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 71–72, 74–75
structure of, 95–98
“The Eighteen” in, 13
Talmudic period, Rav’s yeshiva in, 62
Tannaim
broadening of, 74
Rav and, 60
Tefillin, 64
law s of, 96
Ten Martyrs, 19 n 15
Thirteen Principles of Talmudic Exposition, 3
Tiberias
Beit Midrash of, 80
and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 76
and Resh Lakish, 79, 80
Torah
and destruction of Second Temple, 24
Rabbi Eliezer’s grasp of, 40–42
relation of Mishna to, 57
Shammai vs. Hillel on, 12
transmission of, 18
w ritten vs. oral, 53–54
See also Oral Torah
Torah study
accessibility of, 7
by Elisha ben Avuya, 44, 47, 50
in Israel, 83, 95
process of, 95–98
prohibition against, 45
by Rabbi Eliezer, 35
by Rav, 59–60
by Resh Lakish, 80–81
by Yehuda HaNasi, 52–53
See also Batei Midrash; Yeshivot
Tosafot, 106
Tosefta, 55 n 8
Truth, Shammai vs. Hillel on, 12
U
Unity, survival of
Judaism through, 32–33
V
Vespasian, Emperor, and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 22
W
W ealth/poverty
of Abaye, 86
of Hillel, 1, 4, 7
of Israel under Romans, 79–80
of Rabba, 87
of Rabbi Eliezer, 28, 35–36
of Rabbi Yoĥanan, 72–73
of Rav Ashi, 94
of Rebbi, 52
W orld to Come, Halakha in, 42
Y
Yaakov, Rabbi, grandson of Elisha, 48
Yaakov bar Idi, and Rabbi Yoĥanan, 76
Yad HaĤazaka (legal code
by Maimonides), 96
Yannai, Rabbi, 82
Yarĥei Kalla, 64, 95
Yehoshua ben Ĥanania, Rabbi, 27–34
death of, 32, 33
personality of, 28–29, 31, 33–34
and Rabbi Eliezer, 27, 28
and Shmuel, 66
vs. Rabbi Eliezer, 38–40, 41–42
w isdom of, 33–34
Yehudah HaNasi, Rabbi (“Rebbi”), 51–57
changes to Mishna of, 74–75
death of, 61
and descendants of “Aĥer,” 48
personality of, 52–53, 56
and Shmuel, 66
students of, 59–60, 60, 60 n 2, 72
Yeshivot, Babylonian
in Pumbedita, 69, 94
Shmuel and Rav in, 69
in Sura, 62, 69, 93–95
Yirmiya, Rabbi , 75, 75 n 2
Yishmael, Rabbi and Thirteen
Principles, 3
Yishmael ben Elisha, Rabbi, and Rabbi Yehoshua, 33 n 11
Yoĥanan, Rabbi, 71–77
appearance of, 73, 76–77, 80
death of, 83, 84
and halakhic summaries and interpretations, 75
perceptions of Shmuel, 67
personality of, 73, 76
problems of, 73
and relationship to Mishna,
74–75
and Resh Lakish, 76, 80–84
students of, 72, 76–77, 80
and tomb of Elisha, 49
Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, Rabban, 17–25
death of, 24
influence of, 17–18
personality of, 19–21
Rabbi Eliezer and, 36, 37, 38
students of, 18, 20, 24, 36
Yom Kippur, 13, 21 n 21
Z
Zadok, Rabbi, and Rabban Yoĥanan ben Zakkai, 20
Zeira, Rabbi, 72
About the Author
Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz (Even-Israel) is a teacher,
philosopher, social critic and prolific author who
has been hailed by Time magazine as a “once-in-a-
millennium scholar.” His lifelong work in Jewish
education earned him the Israel Prize, his country’s
highest honor.
Born in Jerusalem in 1937 to secular parents,
Rabbi Steinsaltz studied physics and chemistry at
the Hebrew University. He established several
experimental schools and, at the age of 24,
became Israel’s youngest school principal.
In 1965, he began his monumental Hebrew
translation and commentary on the Talmud. To
date, he has published 38 of the anticipated 46
volumes. The Rabbi’s classic work of Kabbalah,
The Thirteen Petalled Rose, was first published in
1980 and now appears in eight languages. In all,
Rabbi Steinsaltz has authored some 60 books and
hundreds of articles on subjects ranging from
zoology to theology to social commentary.
About the Author
Continuing his work as a teacher and spiritual
mentor, Rabbi Steinsaltz established a network of
schools and educational institutions in Israel and
the former Soviet Union. He has served as scholar
in residence at the Woodrow Wilson Center for
International Studies in Washington, D.C. and the
Institute for Advanced Studies at Princeton
University. His honorary degrees include
doctorates from Yeshiva University, Ben Gurion
University of the Negev, Bar Ilan University,
Brandeis University, and Florida International
University.
Rabbi Steinsaltz lives in Jerusalem. He and
his wife have three children and ten grandchildren.
The fonts used in this book are from the Arno
family
Other works by Adin Steinsaltz
available from Maggid
A Dear Son to Me
Biblical Images
The Candle of God
The Essential Talmud
The Tales of Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav
Teshuvah
The Thirteen Petalled Rose
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