ABANDONING THE ESOTERIC

After a week’s thought ( a little less, actually, since I review this one more time before sending it out), I have decided that the characterizations of RYBZ’s students, and Maharal’s understanding of those characterizations are not particularly illuminating, and are therefore best left for another venue.

In fact, I spent some time thinking carefully about this shiur over the last week, because of a conversation I had with one of my subscribers. While several readers have been kind enough to inform me that they do read this shiur on a weekly basis, the vast majority of you have been silent on whether you get to it in a timely fashion, and on which pieces of the shiur you find more or less stimulating. As a result, I allowed myself to fall into a rhythm, reading and reporting the Maharal’s views as they struck me.

On Shabbat, however, a member of this shiur (and my Moreh Nevukhim shiur) admitted, somewhat sheepishly, to having gotten lost a while ago, and sort of fallen out of the habit of reading them, since they had been too esoteric to be interesting or helpful.

I was somewhat abashed at hearing this, since I devote the time and energy to producing these shiurim for the sake of helping people to learn—I could just as easily give an hour class in the shul twice a week to whoever would come—it would take me less time to prepare (I speak more fluidly and quickly than I write). I am therefore redoubling my efforts not to be esoteric or irrelevant, and hope that the results will be more useful than the previous attempts have been.

A prime example of things I will abandon are the characterizations of RYBZ’s students—as I mentioned last week, Maharal lines each one up with one of the five physical or spiritual abilities he sees humans as having. The truth is that, since I’m not emotionally attached to the notion of five, the interest in knowing Maharal’s view is more exegetical than substantive. By that I mean that what I find interesting is how Maharal takes the words of the Mishnah and gets them to fit the framework of physical or spiritual that he assumed. But we can see such ingenuity at work in less esoteric contexts as well, so let’s turn our attention to those.

MISHNAH 10

After telling the story of the 5 students and their discussion of central character traits, the Mishnah moves on to reporting their central sayings, as they have done for the previous Sages we have met. The Mishnah introduces this segment, though, by saying "hem ameru sheloshah devarim, they said three things," meaning that each of them had three central sayings.

Maharal notices the problem in the phrase—why did they say three things, why not five, or ten, or fifty? Of course, one could reply that there had to be some number, so three is as good as any other.

DIGRESSION TO RAMBAM’S TAAMEI MITSVOT

In fact, Rambam makes that point in a different context, one I will get up to soon, be-ezrat Hashem, in my Moreh Nevukhim shiur. Rambam asserts strongly that there are ta`amei mitsvot, there are reasons for the commandments in the Torah, reasons human beings can generally discover. The importance of that discussion is not our topic here, but what is important is the exception Rambam mentions. Rambam notes that while the reason for an overall commandment is discoverable (and there is such a reason), there might not be a reason for the details of a commandment.

An example—for which Rambam has a ma’amar Hazal to back him up—is shehitah, the commandment to slaughter animals by slicing their neck in order for them to be kosher. Rambam suggests that where on the body we slaughter the animal may have no reason, but the overall commandment does. So, too, with sacrifices, where Rambam says that there may be no reason for the types of animals God ordered us to sacrifice, or their number, but there is a reason for the concept of sacrifice as a whole.

NUMBERS IN MAHARAL

I bring that Rambam up here because one could perhaps argue that there is no reason for the students having said three things each, which would take the wind out of Maharal’s sails. However, in this case, it seems that there must be some significance to the number three, because the Mishnah itself draws our attention to their each having said three things.

The point is, when Maharal draws attention to a number—and he does so often, as we saw with the number five in last week’s class—there are several levels at which he can enlighten us. Sometimes, he is pointing out a concern with number that the text of Avot itself seems to reflect, in which case he is clearly deepening our understanding of the tractate—I believe that is what is going on here, as I have said.

Even if the text does not visibly demand our attention to the number (more along the lines of what Rambam said, that everything must have some number, so how can we assume that the number should have significance?), when Maharal notes it, he reveals himself to us, which is almost as interesting as the Mishnah itself. When we watch a brilliant member of the chain of the Mesorah apply his creativity to that tradition, we are enlightened even if we walk away thinking that the original text did not demand the reaction this particular person gave it.

Third, and finally, when Maharal writes about numbers, he suggests ideas that may be inherently interesting, even if we don’t like how they fit the particular context. Knowing that Maharal sees 5 (or three) as a number reflecting the various powers of the human being expands our vocabulary of ideas with which to approach the world, and is useful in that sense as well.

BACK TO AVOT

Here, as I’ve said, I think the Mishnah highlights the number three, and Maharal suggests several reasons why. First, he suggests that people remember threes most easily, an insight that actually explains the structure of many of the tractate’s paragraphs, since many of the rabbis are quoted in 3-part statements. It also suggests something about the human mind, although I’m not sure exactly what. I remember somebody once saying, I believe tongue in cheek, that the Rov, zt"l, drew hiluqim, two-part distinctions, and that R. Lichtenstein, le-havdil bein hahayyim u-vein hahayyim, makes three part categories. If there is truth to that, I think it lies in the Rov having defined fundamentally important distinctions, with R. Lichtenstein enriching that understanding by beginning to uncover the various middle grounds that generally exist around two extremes.

Having used the words "argue" and "tongue", I want to share a joke that I think is funny—the person I heard it from claims that it has to be heard to be understood, but, since I don’t do accents all that well, I think it works better in print—A Sikh walks into a travel agency in New Delhi (India), and asks for plane tickets to The Hague, pronouncing it Haig-you. The Indian behind the counter laughs at him, "You silly Sikh! It is not the Haig-you, it is the Hague (pronouncing it correctly." The Sikh replies "I am the customer and you are the clerk, so hold your tongue (again, pronouncing it tong-you)!" The clerk laughs again. "Why you really are illiterate! It is not tong-you, it is tongue." To which the Sikh, fed up, replies "Just give me the tickets you impudent man; I did not come here to arg."

More seriously, Maharal notes that threes surrounding one topic can all be connected to each other, in that the first connects to the 2nd, and the 2nd to the 3rd. I think what he means—since, as stated, the logic applies equally to the 4th, etc.—is that a three-part view of a topic would involve an two extremes plus a middle position. In that case, the middle position has elements of the two extremes to it. Once we speak about more views of a topic, they can no longer each relate to the other as directly as in a three-part division.

R. ELIEZER’S SAYINGS

However we explain the significance of three’s, R. Eliezer’s Mishnah is confounding. R. Eliezer says "your friend’s honor should be as dear to you as your own, you should not be easy to anger, you should repent a day before you die, warm yourself opposite the fire of the Sages, but be careful of their coals, for their bite is the bite of a wolf, their sting is the sting of a scorpion, and their hiss is the hiss of a serpent, and all their words are like coals of fire."

Whichever way you group together R. Eliezer’s sayings, it is hard to see how he comes to three. Previous commentators had tried various tactics, but Maharal is the first I know of to suggest that there are three groups of three here. In saying that, I want to point out, he is assuming that when the Mishnah announces "They said three things," it actually meant they spoke in groups of three, the reasons for which we have already discussed. The point, though, is that they formulated their thoughts in 3-part sayings, which are more closely structured then more complicated statements, and easier to remember.

Even dividing R. Eliezer up into three 3’s isn’t that simple—Maharal sees the first three as one group, discussing the three areas in which humans need to be at peace in order to allow for perfection—personally, socially, and in their relationship with God. R. Eliezer therefore prescribes ways to achieve each. Honoring others will lead to peace in society, conquering anger leads to internal peace, and repentance creates peace with God.

A METHODOLOGICAL ASPECT TO MAHARAL’S READING

There are, I think obviously, problems with Maharal’s reading. For example, why would R. Eliezer say it in this order—social, personal, and then religious. This is an example, I think, where Maharal’s assumption that the three parts of the saying need to hang together leads him to a reading of the text that is not so convincing. That happens, I want to point out, because of his basic assumption that R. Eliezer was trying to give one cohesive thought with three parts; otherwise, we would just take each statement on its own.

After that first part, Maharal says the next three sayings discuss how to treat hakhamim. First, R. Eliezer says we should warm ourselves by their fire, meaning we should strive to hear their words. Second, we have to be careful to treat them with the appropriate respect (that’s what the clause about being careful with their coals mean), and third, we have to follow their ordinances punctiliously, because they are like fire. Maharal points to several Rabbinic statements that see disobedience of Rabbinic ordinances as even more serious in some ways than transgressions of Torah law, because it is the Sages’ interpretation of the Torah that guides our observance of it.

The third three comes within that second group, in that when R. Eliezer urges care in how to treat hakhamim, he mentions three kinds of damage that disrespect can lead to. The details of those three (what the comparisons to a wolf, a scorpion, and a serpent mean) have never interested me. I do find Maharal’s approach in general interesting, though, in that he confronts the problem of threes somewhat more honestly than earlier commentators, who would generally define three of the sayings as the 3 intended by the lead-in to the Mishnah, and explain why all the extra material doesn’t count.