Shiur 11
Parshat
Tazria Metsora 5764
Sixth
Derasha, Pages 215-235 (in the old Ran, 94-104;
note that we skipped the “second version” of the
fifth derasha, because the new Ran puts it in
the back as a separate derasha, which we’l get
to, be”H, towards the end of the summer).
SUMMARY
GUARANTEEING ONESELF THE WORLD TO COME
Ran
opens the derasha with the words from
Michah that ask what a person can do for God and
conclude that all that God wants is for us to do
justice, kindness, and hatsnea lekhet,
walk humbly before Him. To work his way into
discussing that quote, Ran notes Rambam’s famous
view that any Jew who performs one mitzvah
without any ulterior motives is guaranteed a
place in the World to Come. Rambam says this to
explain a Mishnah at the end of Makkot—the one
we recite often before saying a derabannan
kaddish—which says that God wanted to give
us merit, so He made a lot of Torah and
mitsvot. While we might think that means
that there are more opportunities to amass
reward, Rambam understands it to mean that it
presents a variety of opportunities to reach
that one proper performance of a mitzvah.
Ran
likes Rambam’s thought, but thinks it’s not true
for all mitsvot. Some mitsvot,
true, are sufficient to guarantee a place in the
World to Come; others are not. In Ran’s view,
God wanted to encourage the development of the
best person possible, which would involve the
range of mitsvot. To avoid people
focusing only on the “important” ones, those
that earn the greatest reward, God did not
reveal the reward (an idea Ran probably took
from Rabbenu Yonah’s commentary on Avot). In
that reading, the Mishnah in Makkot was
celebrating God’s helping us achieve a
broad-based perfection, not just the World to
Come. (The idea that there might be values other
than achieving the World to Come is worth
discussing further, as we will below).
His
belief that some mitsvot in fact carry
greater weight than others (although we do not
necessarily know which), leads Ran to an
interesting interpretation of a well-known
discussion at the end of Makkot (23b-24a), the
source of the tradition that there are 613
mitsvot in the Torah.
Following that assertion, the gemara reports
that a series of Jewish leaders reduced that
number, King David taking it down to 11, Isaiah
to six, Michah to 3, and Habakuk to 1. I think
the ordinary way to read that text is to see it
as finding verses in Scripture that more briefly
encapsulate the essence of the religion, without
any intention to limit observance (akin to
Hillel’s saying that following the Golden Rule
was the essence of the Torah), but Ran sees it
differently. In his reading, each of these
later writers was addressing readers unable or
unwilling to even work at fulfilling the broad
sweep of mitsvot. Each one therefore
identified those mitsvot that would most
directly lead to the World to Come while,
obviously, sacrificing many important values.
Thus, David offered eleven mitsvot worth
focusing on (and Ran implies that David was
making his peace with people neglecting the
others, since he had come to realize that they
would not do them anyway), and so on.
While
this is a rich reading of the text—offering at
least two ideas worth discussing below, whether
there are core values that can be fulfilled in
isolation from the rest of the religion and how
and when we make our peace with a lack of
observance and how we react to it—it is also a
homiletical way of bringing Ran back to the
verse with which he started this derasha,
Michah 6;6-8. That verse is the one in which
Michah encapsulates the Torah in 3 mitsvot,
doing justice, loving kindness, and walking
modestly with God.
Ran
reviews the Talmud’s definition of each of the
three, justice meaning laws and judges, kindness
meaning acts of kindness, and modesty meaning
performing even those acts normally done in
public and with great fanfare (weddings and
funerals) in a private fashion which Ran
interprets as meaning with lesser publicity. He
even goes so far as to say that the wedding
derashah, which was a full discourse offered
in honor of the wedding should happen in the
wedding hall (as opposed to in a public place),
as a form of modesty. The reason for that kind
of modesty, as well, is worth considering.
UNFATHOMABLE KINDNESS OF GOD
Having
brought us to Michah, Ran undertakes a reading
of the verses, which record the dilemma of a
person trying to give a gift to God. Such a
person—the navi writes in the first
person--thinks to give God sacrifices, or his
first born, or his other children. Ran notes,
by way of introduction, that we all tend to take
for granted that which is given to us on a
regular basis, but that in reality our very
existence is a huge and undeserved kindness from
God. Within that general kindness, a nontrivial
element of it is the ease of performing
mitsvot (as the Vilna Gaon famously noted on
his deathbed, he was leaving a world where
pennies—or dollars—bought mitsvot, for a
world where there were no mitsvot to be
performed), especially repentance, which Ran
sees as the topic of the verse.
The
person thinking about what to give to God is
trying to figure out how to make up for his
sins. Citing Rabbenu Yonah, Ran agrees that the
verse distinguishes between peshaim
(willful sins) and hataim (sins of giving
in to temptation); for the former, the sinner
thinks he might have to give his firstborn,
while the latter might only require one of his
other children. It is the thought of the sinner
that highlights the kindness in the mitzvah
of teshuvah, because all that God
requires of us is sincere regret over the past
and intent not to repeat the sin in the future
(and confession).
That is
the meaning of the continuation of the verse in
Michah, which says that all that God wants from
us is that we improve our ways. Had God wanted
us to sacrifice our children (which Ran seems to
think would theoretically have been reasonable,
given our debt to Him), the difficulty of doing
so would at least have explained why evildoers
fail to repent. Given its simplicity, however,
evildoers are even more to blame for not taking
advantage of God’s kindness.
TAKING
HEED
A
similar view of the issue is found in Hoshea, in
the haftarah we read on Shabbat Shuvah (indeed,
it is worth speculating as to why Ran did not
start with that haftarah). There, too,
the prophet refers to the lack of any need for
sacrifices, says that words will be enough to
return to God’s full happiness with us. The
continuation of Hoshea, that God has given us
laws that the righteous benefit from and the
wicked stumble in, echoes the idea that the
evildoers’ failure to repent is itself a reason
for them to be punished.
Having
shown the need for repentance and its ease, Ran
adds that world events should also stimulate
repentance (another idea he would have seen in
earlier sources, such as Rabbenu Yonah). When a
faraway nation is visited by some disaster, that
is supposed to lead to soul searching by all
human beings. All the more so, Ran says, in his
times when people are faced with a plague
(perhaps the Black Death which ravaged Europe in
1348 and returned on a regular basis for the
next four hundred years), that they should look
to the healing of their souls even before the
healing of their bodies.
To
defend the priority of soul-healing, Ran points
out that if a person was ill in two parts of his
body, three factors would determine how to
triage care: 1) Which body part is in greater
danger, 2) which body part causes the other to
be sick, and 3) which body part’s healing had to
happen before the other one could be healed.
All three conditions favor dealing with the soul
before the body, since all are true of the soul
as well. The soul is certainly in greater
danger, because the body eventually dies no
matter what while the soul is immortal,
illnesses of the soul are the reason for
physical ills, and the health of the soul is a
necessary condition for the health of the body.
To
defend that view, Ran cites the story of R.
Hanina b. Dosa killing a serpent by letting it
bite him; the serpent then died, leading R.
Hanina to comment that it is not venom that
kills, it is sin that kills. Adding to that,
Ran notes that generally healthy people are more
resistant to illness (an insight that doctors
rediscover repeatedly in our times); the same is
true of those whose souls are healthy. This
whole line of reasoning is worth pursuing below.
I AM
GOD, YOUR HEALER
The role
of mitsvot and soul-health in preventing
disease (apparently an issue of significant
importance to Ran’s listeners) brings Ran to
another verse, the one in which God promises
that if we follow His laws, He will not bring
upon us any of the plagues with which He
afflicted the Egyptians, for I (God speaking) am
God, Your Healer.
Ran
notes that others have been puzzled by the
verse, as it seems to promise that if we keep
all of God’s laws, He won’t smite us with
terrible plagues, a fairly minor reward. Ran
says, though, that it means that we will be
protected “naturally” from the various ills of
the world if our souls are in order. It is not
that God won’t bring these things upon us, it is
that those misfortunes will not be able to
happen to us even if Nature would have
determined that they should.
This,
too, explains the reference to God being our
Healer, an odd term for a situation where we
will never become ill to begin with. Ran
explains, though, that we refer to doctors as
healers for taking away illness that has already
occurred, but preventing the illness is all that
much greater a healing; by giving us the
mechanism for fortifying our spiritual health
(which, for Ran, fortifies physical health as
well), God is providing an even greater level of
Healing.
Another
example of this phenomenon, for Ran, is the
Biblical story of the Jews’ being bitten by
snakes for complaining about the man.
The punishment fit the crime, in his view,
because the Jews’ were complaining for nothing
and telling lashon hara (note, although I
don’t intend to discuss, that Ran is comfortable
with the idea that telling lashon hara
deserves the punishment of being bitten fatally
by a snake). In Ran’s view of medicine, having
the Jews look at snakes should have increased
their suffering; that it healed them made the
point that healing comes from God and depends on
spiritual, not physical, matters. Returning to
R. Hanina b. Dosa, Ran finds the same point in
that story, and more so, since R. Hanina
actually proved immune to snake venom by virtue
of his great spiritual health.
THE
VITAL COMPONENT OF SPIRITUAL HEALTH
Some
people think that to achieve such spiritual
health requires great wisdom. Indeed, wisdom
and the study of Torah are central Jewish
values, Ran says, but they are not what is
required for this issue. Instead, intent and
devotion (not just action, either, but a sincere
commitment to serve God) determine spiritual
health.
It is
the importance of intent that people neglect
when they see great men involving themselves in
the ordinary matters of this world. When Yaakov
Avinu, for example, makes sure that even the
small articles make it over the Yabok with the
family, people might think he was just
ordinarily interested in his possessions, and
then allow themselves to chase after such
possessions as well. Their error, Ran says,
lies in not recognizing the internal process of
those great people, who are concerned with the
mundane only to the extent that it helps with
their larger goal, serving God and spreading
knowledge of Him throughout the world. Ran
continues along this line, and we will continue
next week. For now, we will stop here to make
several further points about Ran’s ideas.
VALUES
OTHER THAN ACHIEVING THE WORLD TO COME
One of
Ran’s first points was that some mitsvot
are not themselves sufficient to achieve a share
in the afterlife, no matter how well the person
performs them, while others are. In his view,
apparently, mitsvot
aren’t only about getting to that World, since
then God could have only commanded those that
achieve the World to Come (if all prices were in
dollars, for example, there would be no need for
coins; true, coins could be added up to dollars,
but why bother with them if only whole dollars
matter?).
Clearly,
Ran believed that there were mitsvot that
improved a person spiritually and were therefore
inherently valuable. Performing such mitsvot
would benefit a person, increase their share in
the World to Come, but were commanded primarily
because of the spiritual benefit they provided
to the person. That underlying idea, that
gaining the reward is not the point of
the mitzvah, is one worth remembering, as
it is a common view among medieval Jews—Torah
and mitsvot are valuable for their effect
on the person, not the reward they gain her.
CORE
VALUES AND HANDLING DETERMINED NONOBSERVANCE
Ran’s
idea that David haMelekh and others were trying
to give a shortened list of mitsvot to
help their contemporaries salvage at least some
of their observance implies several interesting
points. First, it suggests (perhaps not a
novelty to some, but not inherently obvious)
that the Torah can be fulfilled partially and
still achieve much of its desired goal (whereas
a canvas that is only partially painted, with
spots of paint here and there, could not be seen
as a work of art). Indeed, the idea that some
mitsvot are sufficient in and of
themselves to achieve the World to Come means
that Torah is not one unified whole, with each
part having to work together in order to have
any value (such as a car), but that it is a
series of requirements, each having independent
value, although they certainly work best in
combination.
That
explains Ran’s equanimity with the possibility
that David haMelekh and those who came after
were picking the central mitsvot to
stress to their generation. The temptation, for
those who are serious about their service of
God, is to reject anything other than an attempt
to live up to the highest standards of Torah
observance. Ran’s reading of the gemara assumes
that that is a complete error, that the
responsibility of the leader of a generation is
to meet his contemporaries at a place where they
are ready to start building, and to find the way
to move them from where they are to wherever the
next step in their service of God should be.
(Parenthetically, that also means that we cannot
always assume that rabbis of a previous
generation condoned behavior that they did not
protest. In some cases, the issue may have been
one where the rabbi had no effective way to
produce change, and felt that maintaining an
overall relationship was more important than
this particular issue. The question of how and
when to tolerate what is wrong for the sake of
being able to have impact on other areas is one
that I have yet to fully understand, and
certainly could not discuss intelligently).
MODESTY
The
gemara itself makes the central point, that
modesty is not directly about clothing, it is
about a general sense of the value of privacy,
of avoiding showiness. The examples given,
weddings and funerals, are interesting precisely
because there is a desire for those to be events
that happen with many people there (there is a
positive obligation to attend both events, to
give proper honor to the dead and help in
maximizing the happiness of the bride and
groom). The gemara apparently assumes
that it is possible to handle a large event in a
quiet, modest manner. Although the gemara
doesn’t specify, Ran seems to assume that a
central component of that privacy involves the
event taking place away from public scrutiny.
He thus extends the need for privacy even to the
derasha given at the wedding.
Neither
the gemara nor Ran explain
why
this should be so, but we should think about it
for a moment; what is the value in having a
funeral with thousands of people, but keeping it
out of the public eye as much as possible? I
suspect the answer is that the Jewish sense of
modesty seeks to reveal what is private only to
those who are involved in whatever event leads
to that privacy. In the case of marital
relations, for example, modesty means that the
elements of that act—including, of course, the
body parts that are essentially used in that
act—be revealed only to those participating in
it.
The same
applies, on a broader scale, to many other
activities. Modesty does not mean the
activities should not happen, nor that they
should happen with only a few people. It means
that they should be what they are, and not a
spectacle for bystanders to gawk at. (As I
write those words, I think of weddings that
happen in hotels, where, as the hattan and
kallah are being danced to the
yihud
room,
various hotel guests are standing by and
watching the quaint Jewish wedding). This is
even true of Torah, where one might have argued
that the more people who see it, the more likely
that one of them may be drawn in. Nonetheless,
modesty means that important activities take
place away from the prying eyes of casual
curiousity. (This explains, to some extent, the
practice of charging people to enter the
yeshiva
to
learn, a practice that led to the famous story
of Hillel listening in at the skylight and
nearly being frozen to death by a snowstorm. It
also explains why Rabban Gamliel placed a
watchman at the door to make sure that entrants
were worthy—the goal was to insure that those
who saw the proceedings were there to gain from
them, not just to watch and enjoy the
entertainment.)
TAKING
GOD FOR GRANTED, DESERVING
Ran’s
stress on God’s kindness provides an interesting
contrast to what I have encountered on numerous
occasions in several different communities. Ran
sees life as a gift far beyond anything that
humans deserve, and is comfortable with the idea
that even sacrificing one’s children (which God
does not want) would have been a
reasonable request for God to make. That was
true for Ran even in the absence of sin;
especially for those among us who may have
sinned from time to time, it would be even more
so.
Theoretically, that should mean that when people
face times of adversity, they not even think of
challenging God on the basis of it. While the
suffering of the righteous and the prosperity of
the wicked is an age-old problem in Judaism, the
casual assumption by most people that they are
among the righteous whose suffering should be
puzzling is remarkable. Ran, I think, makes
clear that while there are people whose
suffering would be inexplicable, the vast
majority of us do not deserve what we have and
therefore would have no right to complain if it
were taken away.
Not a
theory that can fly in a world where everyone is
sure of their righteousness, but an interesting
one nonetheless.
SPIRITUAL HEALTH AFFECTING PHYSICAL
The last
point of Ran’s that we have covered in this
week’s shiur is perhaps the most provocative.
Ran clearly and simply assumes that one’s
spiritual state affects one’s physical state, a
claim I feel confident most 21st
century readers will reject. After all,
medicine is built upon the ability to predict
the course of diseases based on previous
experience and our understanding of the physical
processes of the disease, to administer
therapies whose efficacy depends on purely
physical factors, and so on. Science in general
has accomplished its many advances by leaving
spirituality out of it, and has not seemed to
suffer for it (there is no body of literature
showing that righteous people’s cancers proceed
differently from unrighteous ones). Science
seems to trump Ran.
In
response, I would just quote what R. Meir
Twersky once said to me, “Statistics is just a
way to hide hashgahah.” What I
understood him to mean, and wholeheartedly
agree, is that people assume that because
behavior in the aggregate can be predictable,
that the whole thing is random as well. (For
another example, some economists have shown that
the behavior of the stock market as a whole is
random, that you have as much chance of
predicting the market as a whole by figuring it
out as by throwing darts at a stock table and
picking those stocks to go up. Yet it should be
clear that the behavior of each company on the
Exchange is far from random; it is just that the
complexity created when thousands of companies
interact in an economy means that we cannot have
enough information to predict what is going to
occur.) It is possible, however, that Ran is
correct (I believe he is) and that there are few
enough righteous people (and that they stay
healthy, or get sick for other reasons, in a way
that doesn’t skew the statistics) so that the
various studies can work and arrive at useful
conclusions.
All that
is, of course, speculative and will have to
remain so until we find a way to evaluate
spiritual health (something only God can do) and
then correlate it with other kinds of health.
It does, however, put us back in the realm of
Ran studying the interaction between the
physical and the spiritual, so far a better
description of this derasha than seeing
it as being about repentance.
SUMMARY
Up to
this point, then, Ran has registered his view of
mitsvot, with some offering immediate
access to the World to Come and others improving
a person in more subtle ways; has suggested that
various prophets offered scaled down versions of
mitsvot for Jews who would not keep more, has
reviewed Michah’s 3 mitsvot, particularly
modest, and then spoke about the requirement of
gratitude created by God in making the world.
Next week, be”H, we will finish the derasha.
Shabbat Shalom.