This is the first e-mail I am sending out regarding Derekh Hayyim, Maharal's voluminous interpretation of Avot, so I want to take care of some technical matters first (some of these ideas I have already sent out in an e-mail about Moreh Nevukhim, so pardon whatever redundancies occur). I am hoping in the course of these sheets to create the atmosphere of a real shiur, with the advantage that each member of the group can access the shiur as convenient to him or her. I have several suggestions I think will help in this regard:

1.. Plan to devote some real time to this shiur each week, meaning not just reading the shiur, but considering which aspects appeal to you, which don't. Since Maharal hasn't been translated into English (yet), I will not assume that people have access to the text, so I will summarize the main points in addition to adding my own comments. Our goal will be not only to find out Maharal's ideas, but also to see how he made use of the texts in front of him to do so. I have no idea of how fast we'll be able to go; we'll have to play it by ear.

2.. Plan to ask questions. One of the missing elements of a shiur by e-mail is the give and take between the person delivering the shiur and the group. To the extent possible, I hope people will read what I have to say and reply with questions for the whole group to ponder. Maharal espouses many original views of the world in his commentary, with much room for rumination.

3.. Introduce yourselves; if we were all sitting around a table together week after week, we'd see each other's faces, get some sense of who the others are. We can do that here, if we just submit a minimal explanation of who we are, something along the lines of: "My name is Gidon Rothstein, I'm the Associate Rabbi at the Riverdale Jewish Center, and I live in Riverdale, with my wife and two children (or whatever information you find reasonable to relate to total strangers)."

Two final technical points. 1) I'm sending this out as e-mail, but it would be easier for me if I could send it out as a Microsoft Word attachment. If that's a problem for anyone, let me know, and I'll do it this way (it's only minimally easier for me the other way). 2)I’m not clear on how easy or hard it is to absorb the concepts I’m recording here—nor am I clear on how clear my presentation is. Please let me know if this week (or the first few weeks) are too long, too short, or ok, and whether the presentation is clear, whether it’s too much summary without discussion, or not well presented. I ask for the feedback because I can certainly adjust my style to fit people’s needs.

Now on to Maharal. Maharal’s biography does not figure too obviously in his perush (where it does, I’ll point it out), so we can sketch basic outlines. Maharal lived for almost all of the 16th century (there is debate about his exact birthdate, but he certainly lived over 90 years) , serving as a rabbi in several communities, although he is best known for his tenure in Prague. He supposedly met with many of the important personages of his day, including the King of Czechoslovakia and the astronomer Tycho Brahe. He wrote many works, including a supercommentary on Rashi on Humash, a commentary on many of the aggadot in the Talmud, the work on Avot, and several freestanding works (meaning not commentaries), taking up various topics of deep Jewish interest.

In his perush on Avot, the element we will find most interesting is the context he provides for the mishnayot, meaning the topics he manages to read into seemingly straightforward texts. That will obviously only become clear as we get to actual Mishnah, but I thought I'd make the point now to prepare for it.

On to his introduction. The first interesting point to note is that at the end of the introduction Maharal appends a note declaring that all references to non-Jews in the commentary do not, of course, mean the non-Jews of his day who are wonderful people, and by whose grace the Jewish community prospers, but refers only to the non-Jews of yore, idol worshippers and heathens all. Ordinarily, I would immediately assume that this was done for the sake of the censor, to insure that he would not bowdlerize the text. However, the placement bothers me somewhat-- such a declaration should have come on the cover page or somewhere where the censor would be most likely to see it. Perhaps it was for the censor, and the censor had to read the whole text, but I thought it was worth bringing to people's attention.

Maharal's fundamental point is going to be that since Avot deals with issues of ethics (mostly questions of how to conduct oneself in ordinary human interaction), it would seem not to fit into the Mishnah, a work of Torah, the Divinely ordained Law. He answers that ethical perfection only comes from controlling, if not restricting, one's involvement with the physical aspects of life (such as all physical pleasures). Generally, people are only willing to do so out of dedication to a higher goal, such as Torah and mitsvot. In that way, the truths of Avot are really part of the Torah, since it is only a higher commitment that would lead people to accept these truths.

Note that Maharal's anti-physical comments (and we'll see more) are not necessarily ascetic (meaning denying all value to pleasure); rather, he repeatedly stresses the need for control of physical pleasures, and the human tendency to stray too far in the direction of indulgence. The point itself is fairly interesting, but how he presents it (summarized below) is all the more interesting.

He begins with a verse from Mishlei, "Ki Ner Mitsvah ve-Torah Or, ve-Derekh Hayyim Tokhehot Mussar, for a mitsvah is like a candle, and Torah like light, and the way of life is with rebukes of proper conduct," not apparently relevant to Avot. This was, in fact, a common artifice of sermonics at the time, to start with a seemingly completely unrelated verse, and eventually weave it back into the topic at hand.

He then differentiates between knowledge humans could achieve on their own, which he identifies with the words derekh hayyim in the pasuq, and areas having to do with God, where intellect cannot hope to have real input. For that aspect of life, Torah is necessary. There are two ways that that divine knowledge is communicated to man, through Torah as text and through mitsvah as activity. Mitsvah as activity, Maharal notes (based on a gemara) only provides momentary access to the Divine, while Torah as text provides continuing connection. It is for that reason that the verse refers to Torah as light and mitsvah as candle-- a candle only gives light while it is actually lit (so it is connected to a body in some way), whereas disembodied light exists forever.

Torah's eternal qualities also explain for Maharal the references to Torah as Etz Hayyim. Maharal contrasts the word hayyim, which means lasts forever, with the word hay, which simply means "is alive." Torah is an etz, a tree, because it has roots in God Himself (and thru Torah, we can connect to God), and it will last forever, so it's an etz hayyim. People on the other hand are referred to as hay, alive, but not hayyim, since they are not eternal.

Although he does not draw the connection explicitly, Maharal has provided an interesting interpretation of the story of Gan Eden in Bereshit. When Adam and Hava eat of the Etz haDaat, the Tree of Knowledge, Hashem worries that they will eat from the Etz haHayyim and live forever; to forestall this, he removes them from the Gan. I have always wondered why God created the Tree of Life, and the big worry He had that man would eat of it.

In Maharal's reading, that Etz was Torah, so that God was worrying that Adam and Hava would "eat" from that tree and live forever. Why should that be a problem? It seems to me (and I have other proofs as well, which I will not belabor here) that Hashem did not want to give the Torah until people were ready for it in some way. Were they to take it too soon, they might live forever, as the verse says, but many important elements would be missing. Once Adam ate from the Etz haDa`at, the worry was that he would come to Torah before being properly prepared for it, and to avoid that, He had to remove them. I find this interesting because it explains what the Etz haHayyim was (which is unclear in the pesuqim) and Hashem’s worry about their eating from it.

Now Maharal turns to the notion of derekh eretz, proper conduct, and says that it is referred to as a derekh because of people's need to follow its dictates exactly, without yielding to their physical nature. That physical nature will be central to the notion that derekh hayyim, the path of life, requires tokhehot mussar, rebukes and reprimands. Maharal notes a gemara in Berakhot which says that there are three gifts from God that are only acquired with yisurim, with suffering, Torah, Israel, and the World to Come.

He suggests that these three are all holy, and less connected to the physical world, so that we need yisurim to reduce our interest in the physical. To prove Israel’s holiness he notes that avira de-Eretz Yisrael Mahkim, that the air of the Land of Israel is reputed to make one more intelligent, and that prophecy only occurs in the Land of Israel. The holiness that interests him, in other words, is that which shows a nonphysical element to the Land.

Before we get to tokhekhot mussar, the rebukes and suffering that teach us how to follow the derekh hayyim, let us just be clear that Maharal has a specific attitude towards the physical—while it is necessary for human life, at the same time it poses a danger to spiritual development, since it draws people towards excessive involvement in the physical. Part of holiness is learning to restrict one’s involvement in the physical, a restriction that involves real suffering, as he recognizes.

In any case, the notion that reducing the physical requires suffering then explains why following the derekh hayyim needs words of mussar, of restriction, since the proper path, even within ordinary human behavior, is to limit one’s involvement in the physical.

One more piece will round out Maharal’s demonstration of why Avot belongs in the Mishnah. So far, he has said that Avot teaches derekh hayyim, the path people follow as a function of their intellect, which would ordinarily not be part of Torah, which taps into the Divine. However, since true dedication to derekh hayyim requires limiting the physical, it requires yissurim of some sort, in this case of tokhehot mussar. Still, as far as Maharal is concerned, he has not yet justified Avot’s place in the canon of Torah.

The gemara in Baba Kama mentions three areas of study for one who wants to become a hasid, the word (in the Talmud and medieval writings) for one who has achieved spiritual perfection—Berakhot, Neziqin (Damages or Torts), or Avot. Others see these as alternate points of view, but Maharal suggests that it depends on which type of holiness one is trying to perfect. For perfection of the soul (and of one’s place in society), neziqin teaches how to avoid damaging others (and how to compensate them if they are damaged through him). A person who adheres strictly to these laws has developed a generous enough soul to want others’ welfare, and be sure that he/she does not hurt others. For perfection of the body (a more personal perfection), Avot teaches a person to control their inclinations/lusts, so that they have those fully in check. Finally, Berakhot teaches perfection of the intellect (spiritual perfection), since it trains people to always have God’s name on their lips, and to pause before every action to recognize God’s part in the world.