SHIUR 5, PARSHAT
TERUMAH 5764
SUMMARY, PAGES
33- END OF DERASHA 2 (89-94)
Those paying
attention will notice that I have inserted new page nos.
in parentheses. That is because I have finally acquired
my new Derashot
haRan
and will be using that from now on. Since, however,
that edition (Mossad haRav Kook, 2003) has a lengthy
translation into Hebrew on the bottom (making it more
user friendly for those who find Ran’s Hebrew daunting),
we will have to do 20 pages of it a week to keep the
same pace. (That is not so difficult, because the new
edition has, in addition to the translation, larger
print.)
WHO CARES ABOUT
THE BERAKHOT?
We ended off
last week with Ran’s questions about why Rivka would
care to steal the blessings and why Esav would be
infuriated by the theft if the blessings were
essentially prophecy. On the other hand, if Yitshak’s
bracha actually impacted the future, stealing shouldn’t
work; while we wouldn’t expect that God would give Esav
the berakha just because Yitshak thought Yaakov was Esav,
He should equally not go against Yitshak’s conscious
wishes just because he was mistaken about who was
standing before him! Either way, we have a problem.
Ran offers two
answers, each of which leaves much room for discussion.
First, he suggests that Yitshak didn’t know of the
prediction that the older would serve the younger,
because prophets in his time weren’t allowed to
publicize their predictions. He assumes this because of
the Torah’s care in saying that God told Moshe lemor,
to say to the Jewish people; without that permission, he
assumes that even Moshe Rabbenu could not have revealed
his prophecy to the people.
Adding to that
Ran’s belief that prophecy in those days was not as
absolute as it would later be, Ran can understand why
Rivka would worry about Yitshak’s blessing. While a
bracha to Esav might not completely ruin the prediction
of Yaakov’s mastery, it would change it in a way that
Rivka did not want. On the other hand, his unknowingly
blessing Yaakov might strengthen that prediction in a
positive way.
Ran then also
raises the possibility that Yitshak was already doubtful
about whether he was speaking to Esav. Given the
contradiction between Yaakov’s words and the way his
arms felt, Ran claims, Yitshak would have been more
likely to follow the evidence of the words and voice.
He assumes, therefore, that Yitshak at least
half-suspected that he was blessing Yaakov, but that he
didn’t mind doing so, as long as it did not get in the
way of Esav’s also having a good life.
Yitshak assumed
that God would not put words in his mouth for Yaakov
that would redound to the detriment of Esav. God, in
turn, took advantage of this situation to inform Yitshak
(by the words he put in his mouth) of Yaakov’s true
destiny. Once he realized what God had done, Yitshak
said gam barukh yihyeh, he should be blessed, as
a way of announcing his submission to the divine plan.
And with that Ran ends the 2nd derasha.
INDETERMINATE
AND PRIVATE PROPHECY AND MARITAL DYNAMICS
Ran has made the
point about the changeability of prophecy before —which
fueled Rivka’s worry— only now it becomes clearer how
much is at stake. From Rivka’s perspective, the promise
she had gotten about Yaakov’s role in the world was
endangered by Yitshak’s blessing. Her encouraging
Yaakov to step in for his brother was, in her view, a
way of safeguarding the future that had been predicted
for her.
This picture of
prophecy, which changes somewhat after Sinai in that
good prophecies become guaranteed, suggests that Ran
thought human beings could affect the future even after
a prediction by God, a remarkable idea. Yitshak’s
blessing Esav would, as far as Rivka knew, work against
the prediction she had gotten and his blessing Yaakov
would support it. Prophecy, then, was not information
about the future, it was information about how the
future looked at that point. That is itself a
revolutionary idea worth considering further, but we
will press on.
Ran’s belief
that prophecy could only be revealed if God commanded
doing so raises two main issues worth addressing here.
First, it reminds us that medieval thinkers viewed
prophecy as a valuable experience in and of itself, not
as a way for God to get messages to humankind. Indeed,
Ran could have conceived of whole armies of prophets
with useful knowledge about the future constrained to
hold their knowledge to themselves. Such people would
have walked around aware of what blessings and
calamities awaited people, but with no right to warn or
prepare them.
Seeing Rivka as
just such a person puts the Yitshak/Rivka marriage in an
interesting light as well. Whatever their love for each
other, from the time of the twins’ birth, Ran has the
two of them working at cross-purposes not only because
they viewed their sons differently, but because God had
vouchsafed information to Rivka that he had withheld
from Yitshak. This conflict, which Ran barely
addresses, might have been there to support/foster the
conflict between the brothers that Ran saw as crucial to
their lasting roles in history, for reasons we discussed
last week.
SUMMARY OF
DERASHA 2
Taken as a
whole, the derasha makes numerous important points about
the underlying structure of our world, particularly in
its nonphysical aspects. The lasting conflict between
the brothers (and perhaps the parents who bore them),
the role and strength of prophecy in predicting the
future (both during and after the time of the
Patriarchs), the role of a blessing in shaping the
future, the question of whether Yitshak was predicting
or shaping the brothers’ future when he blessed them,
all of these came up here. Sum total, Ran seems to have
used this derasha to analyze which aspects of human
relations are determined and which are still open to
human effort and action. Thus far, his view seems to be
that good prophecies post-Sinai must come true, and that
Yaakov and Esav’s rivalry, with who is on top being
dependent on the spiritual state of Yaakov and his
descendants, as the determined aspects of the world.
The rest, as he might say, is up to us to affect and
effect.
DERASHA 3
SUMMARY (95-109, 35-40)
AHARON’S SHARE
IN THE FIRST COMMANDMENT
Ran opens by
quoting the verse where God tells Moshe and Aharon to
tell the Jews that the month we call Nisan should always
be the first month of their year. He notes that this
mitzvah, the first commanded to the Jews as a people,
was told to both Moshe and Aharon (despite the Torah’s
generally addressing only Moshe) for two reasons.
First, since the Jews’ observance of this command—making
Nisan the first month but also taking the sheep to be
the Paschal sacrifice—was central to the Exodus, it was
appropriate that Aharon, who was also deeply involved in
the events leading up to the Exodus, be a part of this
as well.
Second, Ran sees
this as a reward for Aharon gladly, willingly, and
without rancor accepting a subordinate role to Moshe
despite his having been a prophet first (a contention he
proves from verses in Shmuel and Yehzkel). That
selflessness earned him the post of Kohen Gadol in the
Talmud (Shabbat 139a)’s view, and to be part of this
commandment in Ran’s.
THE PARADOX OF
MOSHE’S NEED FOR A SUBORDINATE
Seeing Aharon’s
role in Moshe’s prophecy, though, causes Ran to wonder
why God did not perfect Moshe to the point that he
wouldn’t need someone to speak in his place. To
strengthen his question, Ran notes that Moshe’s prophecy
was miraculous and not just a result of Moshe’s
spiritual perfection, a statement he proves from two
main points. First, he notes that at the end of the
Torah, the text announces that there will never again
arise a prophet like Moshe, a statement that could not
be guaranteed unless there were some supernatural
element to Moshe’s prophecy. If, after all, Moshe
achieved a certain level by virtue of his own spiritual
perfection, there could be no way to be absolutely
certain that no one else would reach that level. It was
only because there was a miraculous, supernatural aspect
to Moshe’s prophecy that the Torah could say that with
confidence—God could know that He would never again
intervene in nature to produce a prophet like that.
The second proof
notes a source Ran will refer to again in a later
derasha, where the Talmud in the beginning of Yoma
assumes that the High Priest must take seven days to
prepare for his performance of the Yom Kippur service,
and derives it from Moshe’s having taken seven days to
prepare for entering the cloud and communing with God.
Ran claims that at the simple level the Talmud makes no
sense—Moshe was going to communicate directly with God
and be taught the entire Torah; there is no logical way
to extrapolate from that to the High Priest’s
preparation for a Yom Kippur service that was performed
once a year.
Rather, Ran
says, the Talmud is assuming that Moshe’s waiting before
entering the cloud could only have been meant as
a sign to later generations, since Moshe himself did not
need any preparation for prophecy, as is shown later in
Scripture, when Moshe tells Zlofhad’s daughters “Wait a
moment and I will hear what God commands.” Prophecy at
will and on a moment’s notice is impossible for physical
beings, Ran says, showing that Moshe had, in a physical
body, the ability to communicate with God in a way
ordinarily reserved for completely nonphysical beings.
THE IMPORTANCE
OF PHYSICAL PERFECTION IN A PROPHET
To forestall one
possible answer to his question—that God only cared
about Moshe’s intellectual/spiritual readiness for
prophecy—Ran notes that Nedarim 38a seems to care
greatly about a prophet’s physical circumstances, since
it announces that prophecy will only come to one who is
wise, heroic, and wealthy. Ran recognizes that Rambam
interpreted those terms along the lines of the Mishnah
in Avot—wise is one who learns from all people, heroic
is one who conquers his own inclinations, and wealthy is
one who is happy with his lot—but disagrees,
particularly because the Talmud proves its contentions
by showing that Moshe literally had each of these
characteristics.
Of course,
before he can even answer this question, Ran has
to explain why it should be true that such physical
perfections are important. He says that these qualities
are important for the prophet to make the proper
impression on the masses to whom he will be sent with a
message. This offers interesting contrast to his
statement in the previous derasha that some prophecy is
not meant to be spread around, as we will discuss at the
end of this piece.
Returning to our
issue, though, Ran thinks that Moshe himself was puzzled
by this failure on God’s part, which is why he mentions
to God that he is not a man of words even “from then
when You spoke to your servant.” Ran sees Moshe as
stressing that he is still linguistically
challenged, even after prophecy has descended upon him.
This surprises Moshe, and Ran, because they assumed that
a prophet should be able to cut a dashing and
influential figure with his listeners.
The answer,
however, is that God wanted to differentiate the giving
of the Torah, and the Exodus that preceded it, to make
perfectly clear that it depended directly on God and not
on any human skill or perfection. To this end, as Ran
notes in an aside based on a Talmudic discussion, part
of the point of the plagues was to prove that they were
not man-made; it was for this reason that the
Jews were slaves in Egypt, the magic capital of the
world. Had God taken the Jews out of some
unsophisticated land, not able to put up strong magic,
others might have claimed it was sorcery rather than
God. Forcing Egypt’s sorcerers to admit that this was
the hand of God made the point more effectively than it
would have anywhere else.
So, too, with
Moshe’s speech. Demagogues can convince masses of
people of the truth of their words by the skill of their
speech; had Moshe been Martin Luther King or Jesse
Jackson (I have a weak spot for black preachers; I think
they are excellent orators), people might have suspected
that he swayed the Jews by the force, power, and
eloquence of his talk rather than by his ideas or his
representing God. To that end, God took away his power
of speech, making clear that people would only
listen to him if he had something powerful to say.
Ran also intends
to derive that point from God’s response to Moshe—who
makes a man mute?—but gets caught up in a discussion of
how language can ever refer to creating a negative, a
discussion we will have to follow up next week. For
now, we can turn to a few striking points in this
discussion.
AHARON’S
SELFLESSNESS AND REWARD (A MITSVAH)
Ran focuses not
only on Aharon’s lack of jealousy of Moshe, but that
this was despite his having been a prophet first. The
whole idea that he was a prophet in Egypt bears
consideration, since it is both another example of a
prophecy that was apparently only for the prophet
himself as well as an interesting perspective of Aharon
who, in this reading, spent time watching the Jews
suffer while he had direct communication from God. That
communication, though, did nothing to hasten the
redemption, forcing Aharon to watch and share in their
pain even as he knew in a way that they could not that
their redemption was only as far away as God willed it.
Seeing Aharon as
bearing the people’s suffering, bearing the indignity of
having his brother instantly supersede him, and all the
while accept what was happening with equanimity casts
him in a more Buddhist light than I had ever thought.
At the same time, it shows why he was so perfect for the
role of Kohen Gadol, who serves largely to gently
educate the people and to be always ready to help them
gain atonement when they have sinned. Aharon’s
pre-history thus predicts his future (as the Talmud
noted in Shabbat).
The reward he
gets is also worth noting—he gets his name attached to
the prophecy that included the first mitzvah commanded
to the Jewish people. With all due respect, it takes a
truly great man to see that as the reward for what
Aharon had gone through. The reward for letting
yourself be stepped on and over is that a mitsvah will
have your name attached to it! The secret, though, is
that truly great people only value meriting having a
share in God’s plan in the world. By having his name
placed in the first stage of teaching the Jewish people
how to serve God, Aharon was being told that indeed his
retiring nature had been a positive action, and had not
lost him the opportunity to be a vital part of bringing
about God’s goals for the Jews and for humanity.
THE OUTWARD
PERFECTION OF THE PROPHET
Ran’s whole
discussion of the prophet, in which he assumes that
physical perfections of various sorts were necessary
(and this in contrast to Rambam, who re-reads those
perfections), seems to fly in the face of his idea that
prophecy is only outward-oriented when God commands it
to be so. All the years that Aharon was a prophet in
Egypt, for example, would it have mattered if he were
poor and/or physically unimpressive? Ran does not give
us any indication of his thinking here, but I guess that
it is one of two possibilities.
First, Ran may
have thought that prophets always had to have a teaching
aspect to their personas; it was just that they would
not be allowed to reveal their prophecies to the
public. In that view, prophecy always came only to
those people who were going to have a shaping influence
on others; it was just that not every one of their
prophecies itself would be revealed. Prophecy was
always a way to affect the world’s future; private
prophecies would simply effect change in a two-step
process, by changing the person who would then change
others. He might not have used the words of the
prophecy in going out to change the world, but those
words would reside within him as he attempted to do so.
Second, Ran may
have thought that all prophets had to have the
potential to reveal their prophecies. While not all
prophecies were to be revealed, part of making someone a
prophet, in this view, would have been to have the
option to have that person carry a message to the
general public. If so, the prophet would need all the
fundamental requirements of an outer-directed prophet
even before he was given a prophecy actually directed to
the public.
THE MIRACULOUS
NATURE OF MOSHE’S PROPHECY
The crux of
Ran’s explanation of Moshe’s speech defect, Aharon’s
assistance, performing the plagues in the sorcery
capital of the world, among others, is that Moshe’s
prophecy was inherently and miraculously different than
all others. Interestingly, Rambam, too, stresses the
qualitative difference of Moshe’s prophecy, although he
does not use the terminology of miracle. The importance
of that stress, particularly for Jews living among
non-Jews who claimed to adhere to a later and
superseding prophet, was to show why there could not be
someone to uproot Moshe.
For our purposes
in studying Ran’s Derashot, that emphasis ties in well
with what has so far been his central theme, the mixing
of natural and supernatural in the world. Here, the
Jews’ Exodus, culminating in their receiving a Law that
is acted upon in the natural world (and, although Ran
doesn’t mention it here, that is characterized as being
“not in Heaven”), has as a central actor a figure Ran
sees as completely supernatural. We will see the
ramifications of this assumption in the coming weeks
(and, hopefully, will complete them before Pesah); for
now, it means that Ran sees the foundation of the Jewish
people—who, as a people, act within nature—in a
supernatural, one time event of prophecy that will never
be repeated. Shabbat Shalom.