I Don't Understand

Gemara (Talmud commentary) explanations read like rules for a children's game. They seem to be ad hoc, based on the desired outcome and without regard for reality or previous rules. Whenever a situation is reached that cannot be resolved using principles with which we're familiar, another principle is introduced that solves the problem.

Sometimes there is a close observation of science, as in anatomy of kosher animals, and sometimes there is a total disregard of science. The fact that the “science” is wrong doesn't seem to disqualify any results based on the errors. They are, after all, “traditions.”

Since the Bible is the word of G-d, there are no errors in it. We may have to “explain” what appear to be inconsistencies. And there are no extra words. Thus every one must bear a lesson and we have to figure out what it is. It does not matter that there may be no obvious support for our position or that someone else may have a completely different explanation – one diametrically opposite – or a contrary opinion. There may be a machlokes – an argument. But both, “these and these are the words of the living G-d.” In some circumstances we even admit that we don't know. “Tayku.” When Elijah, the predecessor of the Messiah, comes, he will answer our questions.

I recognize the tradition that those closer in time to Sinai have a more accurate idea of Torat Moshe than later generations so that the more recent cannot disagree with their predecessors. I am less certain about the concept that they, therefore, are always right. It is the time-honored view that they cannot make mistakes. If there is any statement that does not make sense or seems to be in disagreement with another, the mistake is ours and we must reevaluate our interpretation of what we read. I am troubled by the hoops we pass through in order to make a statement fit in to what we know. It often means that they have to concoct, and we have to accept some unlikely, or even bizarre, scenario that would justify a statement, or believe that something “must” mean the opposite of what it seems to say or that it was copied wrong. And if two sages disagree, they only appear to disagree but were dealing with different cases. Anything to ensure that the tanna (or whoever) is right. We turn them into deities who are infallible, even though we claim to believe that only Hashem is infallible. By doing so – by refusing to accept the idea that one of them can make a mistake – we risk having all of Shas (Talmud) called into question even if we are convinced that what is there is worth defending.

Among the apparently erroneous statements are many related to science and medicine which do not coincide with current knowledge. While it is indisputable that not everything we think is scientifically true will ultimately remain a “fact,” it is unlikely that we will return to some of the ancient beliefs that still exist in the Talmud. And there are modern techniques that make some of the earlier practices outmoded. Indeed, we may have abandoned those practices in our daily lives, but we still maintain their veracity on the printed page. No current authority, for example, would treat a malady with animal urine or some other supposed cure rather than use modern drugs, and none would eschew the use of modern electronic devices since they were not used by our ancestors.

In most fields we use past knowledge as a springboard for advances. We admire the work of our predecessors but go beyond it and correct it when necessary. We “stand on the shoulders” of those who came before us but by doing so we rise higher. Even though such an attitude may be – indeed is – used as justification for wholesale changes in Judaism, perhaps that has happened, and perhaps it will continue, because we have not been willing to make the kind of modest changes and reevaluations that are justified and won't detract from our belief system. We have left the field open for others to make major changes because we were unable to accept smaller ones.

Yet having said that, the gemara has been the backbone of Jewish learning for centuries and, despite any criticisms, bears much of the credit for our survival. When our sages might have been distracted by the world and the cultures around them they focused on the puzzles of the gemara and in creating solutions for them. Their dedication to our heritage was an important contributor to the persistence of that heritage. And the Bible, despite what we don't understand, is the basis for what has sustained us. But the key, in the previous sentence, is “what we don't understand.” Man does not know everything. Nor should he be expected to.

Thus we should be willing to accept apparent errors and inconsistencies as areas of our ignorance rather than try to construct explanations. In some limited cases we admit we don't understand, and that is admirable. When we say that someone meant something else rather than what he said, or when we add or disregard a word, we are placing our own egos on a pedestal and, basically, saying we know more than they did.

Bottom line Judaism. There is no denial of the Rabbis' conclusions, only the route to them. As we learn from the Torah, we must accept their interpretation of the law. But that does not mean that we necessarily accept, or at least comprehend, the explanations they give for reaching their conclusions. It may be hard to give complete understanding and credence to the explanations of two Rabbis who have reached the same conclusions by diametrically opposite routes, and who disagree with each other's arguments. But their conclusion is binding on us.

Even if we don't understand.

January 10, 2017

Parsing Fancy

                                                                    

The gemaraⁱ has been the backbone of Jewish learning for centuries and, despite any criticisms, is entitled to much of the credit for our survival. When our sages might have been distracted by the world and the cultures around them they focused on the puzzles of the gemara and in creating solutions for them. Their dedication to our heritage was an important contributor to the persistence of that heritage. And the Torah,ⁱⁱ despite what we don't understand, is the basis for what has sustained us.

But the key, in the previous sentence, is “what we don't understand.” Man does not know everything. Nor should he be expected to. Thus we should be willing to accept apparent errors and inconsistencies as areas of our ignorance, rather than try to construct explanations. In some limited cases we admit we don't understand, and that is admirable. But when we say that someone meant something else rather than what he is said to have said, or when we add or disregard a word, we are placing our own egos on a pedestal and, basically, saying we know more than our predecessors did. We're saying that we can figure out what may have confused those who came before us. Unfortunately, taykuⁱⁱⁱ is not used enough. Too often our sages have tried to clarify the words they found in the Talmud but used methods that raise bigger questions in our minds.

Gemara commentaries read like rules for a children's game. They seem to be ad hoc, based on the desired outcome and without regard for reality or previous rules, or that contradict a rule we learned before. Whenever a situation is reached that cannot be resolved using principles with which we're familiar, another rule is introduced that solves the problem.

Sometimes there is a close observation of science, as in anatomy of kosher animals, and sometimes there is a total disregard of science. The fact that the “science” is wrong doesn't seem to disqualify any results based on the errors. We are cautioned against using the Talmud as a science book^iv

The most bizarre explanations are used to justify what was written. The basic premise is that the tannaim were always right. As such, if we don't understand, or if we disagree with one of their decisions, we are obligated to construct a scenario compatible with it. And that's what they “must have been” explaining. And if two disagree, they don't disagree. They were explaining two different situations, even if there is no such indication in the text. So we must hypothesize two such sets of circumstances.

And, since the Torah is the word of G-d, there are no errors^v in it. Here again we may have to “explain” what appear to be inconsistencies. And there are no extra words.^vi Thus every one must carry a lesson and we have to figure out what it is. It does not matter that there may be no obvious support for our position or that someone else may have a completely different explanation – one diametrically opposite – or a contrary opinion. “These and these are the words of the living G-d.”^vii

So how can we explain what doesn't make sense? The Rabbis have used many different methods. For example:

They [two authorities who seem to disagree] must have had different versions.

He meant something other than what seems to be the case. What he actually meant was ...

That word doesn't belong here.

There's a word missing.

There's a different rule in this specific case [even though the case seems comparable to another that was decided differently.

We have no choice but to reverse the opinions of the two authorities quoted.

There must have been a copying error.

There seems to be an answer for everything. I recognize the tradition that those closer in time to Sinai have a more accurate idea of Torat Moshe^viii than later generations so that the more recent cannot disagree with their predecessors.^ix I am less certain about the idea that they, therefore, are always right. It seems to be our view that they cannot make mistakes. If there is any statement that does not make sense or seems to be in disagreement with another, the mistake is ours and we must reevaluate our interpretation of what we read. I am troubled by the hoops we pass through in order to make a statement fit in to what we know. It often means that they have to suggest, and we have to accept, some unlikely, or even bizarre, scenario that would justify a statement, or we are expected to accept the view that something “must” mean the opposite of what it seems to say, or that it was copied wrong. Anything to ensure that the tanna^x (or whoever) is right. We turn them into deities who are infallible, even though we claim to believe that only Hashem^xi is infallible. By doing so, by refusing to accept the idea that one of them can make a mistake – we risk having all of Shas^xii called into question, especially painful if we are convinced that what we are defending contains errors.

And if we cannot accept all the explanations, there is always the approach of “Bottom line Judaism.” With such an attitude, we do not deny the Rabbis' conclusions, even if we don't understand the route to them. As we learn from the Torah, we must accept their interpretation of the law. But that does not mean that we accept the explanations they give for reaching their conclusions. It is hard to give complete credence to the explanations of two Rabbis who have reached the same conclusions by diametrically opposite routes, and who disagree with each other's arguments. But their conclusion is binding on us.

We may be determined to understand though. So how can we deal with what doesn't seem to make sense? Ask someone who knows – or claims he does – someone who can decipher the text and provide an interpretation that seems to be valid. But when seeking an explanation of contrary ideas, bizarre scenarios, and scientific errors, it is better not to allow the expert to demand the provision of a specific example, because he is likely to focus on the example and not address the basic principle – even if he's familiar with that principle and its problems. One of the “explanations” which I have cited is likely to be used as justification for what is written.

So we have to be careful when we choose someone to help us, or when we decide on the explanation of a great authority from the past. We may stand on the shoulders of the giants who preceded us, but if they fall we'll be badly hurt.

Next episode: “Something For Everyone" -- Except you.

i      The portion of the Talmud that “explains” the Mishna, which is, itself, an explanation of the Torah – both the part that is written and the portion given to Moses at Sinai but not written down at the time.

ii     The first part of the Bible, otherwise know as the “Five Books of Moses,” the Chumash, and the Pentateuch, among various other designations.

iii    “It stands.” It may not be resolved but the point will be elucidated when the Messiah comes.

iv     Or history book, or whatever.

v      On the other hand, there may be errors in the interpretations of those words, although that is unlikely. Indeed, the Rabbis were not wrong even if there are mistakes in the documents we have now. Any apparent errors are those of the people who followed them.

vi     See previous note. The extra words represent errors by the copyists, not by the ones who originally spoke the words.

vii    Babylonian Talmud, Eruvin, 13b.

viii   The Torah of Moses.

ix     But they are free to offer their own explications of the meaning of those who preceded them.

x      One of the Rabbis whose words – from the first or second century CE – appear in the Mishna.

xi     G-d.

xii    The Talmud.

My Way Or The Low Way

You're right, too.

It's an old joke, but it contains a lot of truth. In its briefest form it goes:

Two men are arguing. A third, who is walking by with his wife, listens, and says to the first, “You're right.” So that man leaves, happy. The second, offended, restates his case, and the listener tells him, “You're right.” He leaves, happy as well. Then the man's wife asks, “How can they both be right?”

I've already given the punch line, but some explanation is in order. One way of understanding the anecdote is to remember that there's more than one way to skin a cat – if skinning a cat is of any interest to you. Just because there are two (or more) sides to every story doesn't mean that only one is right and any deviation from that one is wrong.

There's a Talmudic dictum which states: “ … these and these [both] are the words of the living G-d … ”ⁱ It refers to a dispute between two sets of scholars and seems to place a greater emphasis on their intent than on their interpretations. Both groups were interested in observing religious law, though they had different understandings of what it was. So, despite a ruling from a heavenly voice that the law went in a particular direction, there was approval of the positions of both groups, because their ultimate aims were the same and were intended to be for the proper worship of G-d. And in Avotⁱⁱ we read, “Every dispute that is engaged in for the sake of Heaven will endure.”ⁱⁱⁱ Disagreements are encouraged if their end is worthy. And because the disputants have the same goal, they remain friends and treat each other with respect. It is our hope that we can distill the arguments down to basic rules and choose the proper ones, but we are confident that if what we do is “for the sake of Heaven,” if our intent is worthy, we are entitled to the reward for virtue.

Unfortunately, such an approach is not universal. In Beit Shemesh, Israel, there have been many incidents recently in which some “dagger men”^iv interpret laws of “modesty” in a way that casts those who hold other views in a very negative light. And they subject those “violators” to verbal and, at times, physical abuse. Their views of modesty – views that discourage interaction between men and women and which mandate particular dress restrictions – are certainly admirable and valid for them, but their philosophy does not recognize that those who hold other views may be just as focused as they on following religious law. They are unable to see that another point of view equally contains “the words of the living G-d.” They do not view the others as friends – and they certainly do not respect them. They will not tolerate disagreement, because, according to their outlook, any deviation from the law as they interpret it is wrong. There cannot be valid contrary opinions. There can only be violations of the law by those who would sin.

Fundamentalism^v of that sort is not unique to any one religion. Whether observant of Islam, Christian, Jewish, Hindu, or any other religion, there are those who believe that they know the true way and anyone with a different perspective must be dealt with. They cannot agree to disagree. They can only correct the errors of others – even if that “correction” involves violence. They are the “extremists” we all condemn.

And their extremism may not be religious but may originate in political theory or economics, or some other field. Some of the greatest intolerance facing mankind arises from disagreements over political systems. And within individual countries the greatest name-calling is often reserved for political campaigns.

I can understand and even appreciate the views of those who interpret ideas differently from the way I do – unless they are intolerant of my ideas or those of others who may disagree with them. I applaud their confidence and their convictions, and certainly in our society they are entitled to them. But it is incumbent on those believers to recognize that they aren't the only ones. Whatever control they may have over their “faithful,” they are obliged to live and let live – to give others the benefit of the doubt.^vi Our Constitution guarantees us the right to believe and say whatever we view as the truth.^vii,viii But that makes it difficult for some cultures to relate to us. Similar guarantees do not exist in all countries. Some nations prefer one religion or one political system over another, and their governing legislation enforces those preferences. But even they do not permit small groups of hoodlums to make the rules for everyone else and, using vigilantes and other terrorists, to enforce their own laws.^ix

With or without sanction, however, extremists carry out their agendas. They may be small minorities, but they exercise intense power over others, and their actions have tragic consequences – both for those whom they oppose and over bystanders. And the media give them even greater influence, while often asking for increased tolerance by others of the larger groups from which the few come.^x While stirring up the waters, they claim to smooth them. It is up to those “larger groups” to disclaim the actions of their own extremists and to provide the necessary sanctions that will discourage similar future activity. All the rest of us can do is submit, wring our hands, or flee.

i     Eruvin, 13b.

ii     A Talmudic tractate.

iii    Avot, 5:20.

iv   That's not my designation but their own. They seem to take pride in “protecting” others from views contrary to their own.

v     There is no fun in fundamentalism. It's very serious business.

vi    Of course doubt is the one thing they don't have. They have truth.

vii    Indeed, the Constitution does not require truth or belief as justifications for our expressions.

viii   There are some restrictions on free speech, but they are primarily limited to speech that may result in harm to others.

ix     At least they deny the legitimacy of such groups even though they may ignore, or even support, their actions.

x     Such calls for tolerance are often disingenuous. The media know just what they have done but find it convenient to seek shelter under whatever protective cover they can manufacture.