Abraham J.
Heschel’s HEAVENLY TORAH
- This book gives Heschel’s systematic exposition of
the “Aggadah” as expressing the theological outlook of the rabbis.
- Heschel organizes the rabbis’ aggadic teachings into
two “schools”: the
quotidian-rationalist (Rabbi Ishmael) and the ecstatic-mystical (Rabbi
Akiva). Each, though rooted
in the rabbinic aggadah, extends over the next 1500 years of Jewish
thought.
- In addition to their general theological outlook,
Heschel gives extended systematic treatment to their views of the nature
of the Torah and the process of divine revelation.
- The book may be read in three parts (corresponding to
the three volumes of the Hebrew original):
- Part I:
The general methods and outlooks of Rabbi Ishmael and Rabbi Akiva
(Chapters 1-16)
- Part II:
Their methods and outlooks on the doctrine of “Torah from Heaven” (Chapters
17-33)
- Part III:
The application of these approaches to halakhic practice (Chapters
34-41)
INTRODUCTION TO HEAVENLY
TORAH
Abraham Joshua Heschel was concerned for his whole life with the essence
of the Jewish tradition as an ongoing dialogue between God and the Jewish
people, in which God voices God’s will and concern for humanity, and we respond
by serving God in worship and righteous living. Heschel’s vision of this totality was informed by his
original Hasidic upbringing, by his study of the Bible (especially the
prophetic books) and the later traditions of Judaism, especially the rabbinic
and Hasidic legacies. In the 1960s
he wrote the first 33 chapters of this work in two volumes in Hebrew under the
title Torah Min Ha-Shamayim ba-Aspeklaria
shel ha-Dorot (“Torah from
Heaven in the Lens of the Generations” – English title “Theology of the
Rabbis”). He sought in it to focus
especially on how the rabbis of the Talmudic period interpreted the doctrine of
“Torah from Heaven,” but more broadly, what was the larger theological outlook
of the rabbis in which this doctrine played a central role. In the original two volumes, Volume 1
(Chapters 1-16) presented the general theological outlook of the rabbis, and
Volume II (Chapters 17-33) focused more specifically on their elaboration of
the doctrine of “Torah from Heaven.”
The later chapters of this book focus on the application of this
doctrine for halakhic practice, and were published as Volume III after
Heschel’s death.
Chapter 1:
Introduction.
This is going
to be a book about Aggadah. First
of all, Heschel gives an apologia for aggadah. Aggadah has generally come in as a distant second behind
halakhah in prestige in traditional Jewish studies, but this ought to be
corrected. Aggadah is the royal
path to reflecting on the nature of God.
It expresses the outlook that alone makes the practice of Judaism
meaningful.
Second, Heschel indicates that he is going to teach aggadah through a new
method. He will do so
systematically, topic by topic – this has occasionally been done before. But – unprecedented – he will present
the entire range of aggadic teaching as the crystallization of two distinct
outlooks and approaches within rabbinic thought, the earthly-based, somewhat
rationalistic approach of the school of Rabbi Ishmael, and the ecstatic,
mystical approach of the school of Rabbi Akiva.
Chapter 2:
Two Approaches to Torah Exegesis.
Heschel starts
his exposition of the two aggadic methods by examining the style by which each
of these teachers interpreted the Torah to derive halakhah. Rabbi Ishmael’s approach is famous
through the 13 principles that have entered the prayer book. Examination of these will show how they
exemplify logic: the a fortiori
argument, the analogy (gezerah shavah), the logical progression from
particular cases to general rules (kelal u-ferat), etc. But Rabbi Akiva used the method of ribbui
and mi’ut (see Glossary) which was more arbitrary: using an extra vav or et
to add cases, or ak and rak to exclude, etc. in wild-card
fashion, without any clear guidelines of which cases to add or exclude. In general, Rabbi Ishmael’s midrashic
style inclines toward cool and methodical reasoning, Rabbi Akiva’s to more
extravagant stretching of the meaning of the text. These different styles are indicative of different
conceptions of the nature of the Torah text: for Rabbi Ishmael “the Torah speaks in human language”
whereas for Rabbi Akiva the Torah text is divine and contains infinite layers
of meaning that can be uncovered only by radically transcending the ordinary
canons of human understanding.
The “Jewish
mind” is profoundly shaped by both these approaches – the shrewd realism of the
Ishmaelian approach, and the profundity of the Akivan approach (whose
repercussions may be seen even in a post-religious guise in the interpretative
style of Freudian analysis).
Chapter
3: Miracles.
In Rabbi
Ishmael’s view, the natural order of things is itself the greatest
miracle. God revealed the Torah and created the world, and endowed each
with its own autonomous nature and logic. The Torah follows the canons of
human discourse; the world follows its natural course. Human beings can
understand both with their natural reason.
Where Rabbi Ishmael sees natural order, Rabbi Akiva sees miracles. The
more miracles, the better. Every word in the Torah is a divine utterance
containing unique and infinite levels of meaning; ever event in the world is
similarly a unique disclosing of divinity, with layer upon layer of reality not
immediately apparent to reason.
Chapter 4: The Tabernacle and the Sacrifices.
Rabbi Ishmael
teaches “religious conventionalism”: ritual serves human needs, and can
take one form or another depending on what will best serve that
purpose. Originally there was no need for the Tabernacle and
sacrifices; but after Israel worshipped the Golden Calf, the need became
apparent and God instituted them.
Rabbi Akiva teaches “religious essentialism”: ritual serves God’s need as
well as humanity’s. The Tabernacle reflects the essential order of things
(the earthly Temple is a counterpart of the heavenly Temple); every detail of
the ritual is intrinsically desired by God and is therefore unchangeable.
Chapter 5: The Abode of the Shekhinah.
Rabbi Ishmael
teaches that God is strictly speaking everywhere and not present more in one
place than another. The notion of God’s presence being concentrated in
the Temple or other sacred place is conventional, a symbol meeting human needs.
Rabbi Akiva teaches that God does indeed prefer some locales to others – God’s
presence in the Temple is real, and other things being equal, God prefers to
dwell in the West. We must not dilute the sense of God's presence by saying
it is only "symbolic"!
Chapter 6: Teachings Concerning the Shekhinah.
Rabbi Akiva
teaches that God is intimately present in human happiness and woe. When
Israel is redeemed, God is redeemed; when Israel is in exile, the Shekhinah is
in exile. God is “immanent” – emphatically present in the world.
Rabbi Ishmael stresses that God is “transcendent” – infinite, totally Other,
inscrutable. We relate to God through ethical action – when we perform
ethical good, we are carrying out God’s will in the world. We relate to
God, but indirectly.
Chapter 7: Sufferings.
Rabbi Ishmael
interprets suffering on the “peshat” level: suffering sucks, pure and
simple. He protests, like Job: “Who is like You among the mute, O
Lord, who sees His children’s suffering and is silent!”
Rabbi Akiva goes for the “midrashic” understanding: though not obvious on
the surface, even in our suffering we can experience God’s hidden
compassion. “This, too, is for the good” was his motto. We must
continue searching for the meaning in events that seem absurd on first
grasp.
(Maybe both approaches, in turn, can be helpful!)
Chapter 8: Torah and Life.
Rabbi Ishmael
taught the values of “derekh eretz”: this world has value in
itself; the pleasures of life are to be valued; the Torah sometimes teaches
good manners and the common code of worldly conduct; martyrdom is usually to be
avoided in favor of preserving life.
Rabbi Akiva taught that this world is but a vestibule before the next
world: the pleasures of this world are suspect; the values of Torah are
not worldly but supernal; martyrdom can be a vocation (and he went to his
martyr’s death saying the Shema).
Chapter 9: In Awe and Trembling.
Rabbi Akiva was
a maximalist, and a perfectionist. We are called on to fulfill the entire
law. When we fall short (as inevitably we must), woe to us, for we have
sinned!
Rabbi Ishmael was more of a moderate. We are called on to fill as much of
the law as we can; if our good deeds outweigh our sins, that is enough.
He addressed himself not to the pious elite, but to the average Jew.
Chapter 10: Duties of the Heart: How do we achieve
“devekut” (cleaving to God)?
Rabbi Ishmael sees God as remote. We have our marching orders, and we
“cleave” to God symbolically, by performing ethical good deeds.
For Rabbi Akiva, the experience of closeness to God is real and of the essence
of religious life (especially necessary after the feeling of sinfulness in
Chapter 9). Rabbi Akiva interpreted the Song of Songs as a love-poem
between Israel and God, and lived out this love-relationship with the divine in
many ways.
Chapter 11: Issues of Supreme Importance.
A miscellany of
differences:
Rabbi
Ishmael: The world is ruled by God’s decrees; Rabbi Akiva: The
world is ruled in mercy.
Rabbi
Ishmael: Mistrust Messiahs. Rabbi Akiva: Seize the Messianic
moment! (Rabbi Akiva endorsed Bar Kochba's messianic revolt against Rome
in 132-135.)
Chapter 12: Scriptural Language Not Befitting God’s Dignity.
Rabbi Ishmael: Can such a thing be said? You must interpret
anthropomorphic texts symbolically! (Give it a rational twist.)
Rabbi Akiva: Had the text not said it, it would be outrageous for us to
say it; but the text does say it, and so we can seize on it as a token of the
divine mystery! (Give it a mystical twist.)
Chapter 13: The Language of Torah.
Rabbi
Ishmael: The Torah speaks in human language; the Torah uses euphemism,
hyperbole; the Torah does not follow strict chronological order.
Plain-sense (peshat) interpretation is preferable. The fruit of midrashic
interpretation is given only “rabbinic” (i.e., lesser) status in comparison
with the actual word of the text.
Rabbi Akiva: The Torah is replete with layers of meaning (midrash,
allegory, mystical allusion) every one of which counts. Nothing is
accidental. Everything (including the juxtaposition of one topic to
another) calls out for interpretation. Even the fruit of midrashic
interpretation is to be deemed sacred as an integral part of the text.
Chapter 14: Transcendental and Terrestrial
Perspectives
Rabbi Ishmael and
Rabbi Akiva are interpreted as differing on the basic issue of Platonic
dualism: are there heavenly
prototypes of important earthly entities?
This difference is expressed in their stand on the following issues:
The sanctity of human
life: Rabbi Akiva says whoever
takes a human life diminishes the divine image; Rabbi Ishmael says, he destroys
an entire world (for the human being is a microcosm).
The symbolism of the
Temple: Rabbi Akiva says the
earthly Temple corresponds to the heavenly Temple; Rabbi Ishmael (and Philo and
Josephus) say it symbolizes the world.
The symbolism of the
mitzvoth: Rabbi Akiva says they
exist for having direct communion with God and give God gratification and
power; Rabbi Ishmael says they symbolize aspects of human reality and serve to
sensitize human beings to be better.
The reality of
Torah: The transcendental view
posits that there is a Torah in heaven that is the prototype of the earthly
Torah: it predated creation; it
was the blueprint of creation; it is studied in the heavenly academy. Heschel does not describe an
alternative “Ishmaelian” view to this belief, but we can only fill in
ourselves: if not from a heavenly
prototype, the Torah must have been written in earthly form only, in response
to earthly needs.
Chapter
15: Go ’round the Orchard!
The Akivan-Ishmaelian
symmetry is harder to unravel in this chapter. Heschel discusses three topics: mystical speculation and experience in the rabbinic
literature, the apocalyptic visions of Enoch and other Apocryphal literature,
and prophetic experience. The
first two are explicitly Akivan; the third is implicitly Ishmaelian by contrast
with the second (“the apocalyptic sees, the prophet hears”). Heschel was an avid student of Jewish
mysticism and his valuation of the Akivan mystical journey is implicitly
positive. He points out, however,
that two Akivan prototypes of Torahitic revelation – the ascent of Moses to
heaven, and the existence of a book in heaven – are anticipated in the
apocalyptic literature.
The contrast between
the apocalyptic and the prophet grows out of the transcendendental-terrestrial
dichotomy: the apocalyptic wants
to ascend to heaven; the prophet wants to further God’s will on earth. As JTS professor of mysticism and
author of The Prophets, Heschel obviously had an investment in both
of these religious paths.
Chapter 16: Beholding the
Face of God
The mystical quest, examined in Chapter 15, culminates in the desire to
see God’s face directly. One’s
attitude toward this quest will be revealed in one’s interpretation of
historical events such as Moses’ revelation, the Israelites’ experience at
Sinai and the experience at the splitting of the Sea. In all of these, Heschel assembles a lineup of views
corresponding to the Ishmaelian-Akivan basic disagreement: by the Akivan view they did indeed see
God, by the Ishmaelian view they did not (or in the case of the elders and
Nadab and Abihu who “saw God and ate and drank” at the sealing of the Sinaitic
covenant in Exodus Chapter 24, their “seeing God” was a sin).
Chapters 14-16 may be seen as a summary of the argument of Part I and a
transition to Part II. Given that
the human ability or inability to commune directly with God is conceived one
way or another, what will follow as to the quality and content of the
experience of the revelation of Torah at Sinai?
INTRODUCTION
TO PART II
Part II of this book may be regarded as an extended commentary on the
following Mishnah:
“All Israel have a portion in the world to come…But these have no portion
in the world to come: (1) One who
says “the resurrection is not from the Torah, (2) one who says, “there is no
Torah from heaven, and (3) the Epicurean.” (Mishnah Sanhedrin 10:1)
What precisely does this mean – especially the second clause (ha-omer
ein Torah min ha-Shamayim)? In
Part II, Heschel argues that the Jewish doctrine that “there is Torah from
heaven” does not have one univocal meaning, but was disputed in every one of
its parameters by the rabbis.
These disputes focus on three kinds of issues:
Narrative: What exactly happened in the revelation
of Torah? Was there a pre-existing
“book”? Did Moses ascend to heaven? Did God descend to earth? What was spoken? Who heard? Who saw – and what did they see?
Divine
and human roles: What are the
roles of God and the human partner in revelation or prophecy? Is the prophet active or passive
– a vessel in which God pours His message, or a partner in shaping the message?
Content: What was the content of the message of
revelation at any given time? Were
all 5 books of the Torah given at Sinai, or a smaller “book of the covenant,”
or just the Ten Commandments? What
about the Oral Law – was it given at Sinai with the Written Law – in whole, in
part, or in concept? Did
revelation continue through the Biblical period? Did it continue through the rabbinic period? Does it continue today?
Chapter 17: “The Torah that is in Heaven”
There is widespread acceptance of
the doctrine that Torah in some form or other was in existence from
before the creation of the world.
The rabbis conceived many midrashim on Chapter 8 of Proverbs, where
Wisdom speaks in the first person:
“The Lord created me at the beginning of His course…I was with him as a
confidant.” A pun on amon [confidant]
= omman [artisan] yields a view parallel to Philo’s “Logos” doctrine,
namely that the Torah was the primordial wisdom providing the blueprint for the
creation of the world. What was
this primordial Torah? Views
ranged from its being heavenly tablets (maybe the Ten Commandments? Or the
pre-destined history of all humanity?
The “book” of u-netaneh tokef in which all past deeds are written
and the future is decreed?) to the entire 5-book Torah that became Israel’s
sacred document, white fire on black fire.
Chapter 18: “Moses’ Ascent to Heaven”
While the idea of a heavenly
wisdom or heavenly Torah was generally accepted, there is controversy
surrounding the next part of the doctrine: that Moses ascended to heaven and came down, bringing the
heavenly Torah to earth. According
to Heschel, the idea of a human being serving as a channel between earth and
heaven developed in the late Second Temple period, and is found, for instance,
in the apocalyptic (pseudepigraphic) literature in books like the Book of
Enoch. By the prestige of Rabbi
Akiva, this view eventually colored the dominant rabbinic version of the Sinai
narrative. But it is important to
record the dissenting view, articulated by Rabbi Yose and others, that Moses
only came as far as the top of Mount Sinai, not to heaven.
Chapter 19: “The Descent of the Divine Glory”
As the Sages were divided whether
Moses ascended to heaven, so they disagreed also on whether God descended to
earth during the Sinai theophany.
This debate ties in with the earlier debate (Chapters 5-6) whether it
makes sense to speak of the Shekhinah – God’s presence – as having a localized
location. The abstract view of
Rabbi Ishmael (and of Maimonides in the Middle Ages) was against localizing God
in this way. But a strong stream
of pious sentiment, including Rabbi Akiva, Judah Halevi, and the mystics
(including Heschel) insists that the religious experience of God’s presence
demands this affirmation.
Chapter 20: “Torah from Heaven”
The source of this chapter’s
title (and the book’s Hebrew title) is from Mishnah Sanhedrin 10:1, which says
that whoever denies belief in “Torah from heaven” has no portion in the world
to come. This is thus one of
Judaism’s central dogmas from rabbinic times on. But what does it mean?
“Torah” can mean anything from “some instruction or other” to “the Ten
Commandments” to “the 5 books of Moses” to “the Bible” to “all Jewish
tradition, both written and oral Torah.”
And “from Heaven” can mean “from the celestial realms” or, more
figuratively, “from God (the Heavenly One).”
In this crucial chapter, Heschel
shows that the rabbinic interpretation of this central dogma did indeed have a
wide range of interpretation.
Rabbi Ishmael expressed the minimal concept: that only the general principles were revealed at Sinai, and
the details of the Torah later in the Tent of Meeting; or that “he has spurned
the word of the Lord” refers to one who rejects Judaism completely and worships
idolatry. But the doctrine of
revealed Torah broadened gradually to encompass first the whole written Torah,
then to condemn anyone who says that even a single verse (or a single word) was
spoken by Moses on his own authority (as opposed to by divine mandate), and
finally to encompass the Oral Law in all its particulars. Maimonides, who is liberal,
philosophical and abstract (i.e., Ishmaelian) in many of his other
pronouncements, decided here to draw a firm line in the sand and declare that
the whole written Torah, down to the last word, is sacrosanct.
Chapter 21: “The Sectarians”
Dogma and heresy are flip-sides
of the same coin: whoever defines
heresy, implicitly defines what dogmas must be held sacred. Presumably the “heretics” of rabbinic times
were members of sects in competition with rabbinic Judaism, especially Gnostics
and Christians. The four deviant
views discussed here are: (a) that
there is no divine Torah at all, (b) that only the Ten Commandments were given
to Moses at Sinai, (c) that Moses initiated some commandments on his own, and
(d) that Moses forged the Torah.
Some midrashim attribute to the wicked king Manasseh subversive views,
such as that the passages dealing with racy stories (like the incest of Reuben
or the similar allusion in the case of Timna, mentioned in Esau’s genealogy)
did not properly belong in the Torah.
It is possible that by raising these as “heretical” views the rabbis
were giving vent to their own doubts, and Heschel mentions these matters in the
last chapter of Part II of God In Search of Man, where he seems to
sympathize with the doubters.
Chapter
22: “Moses Did Things on His Own
Authority”
Did Moses indeed initiate nothing
on his own? But the Torah itself
depicts him as doing certain crucial things of his own volition – shattering
the Tablets, separating from his wife, and extending the two-day period of
preparation at Sinai to three days!
On these and similar points, there is again disagreement among the
Sages: Rabbi Ishmael taught that
Moses acted on his own initiative, while Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues taught
that God instructed him what to do in each case.
Chapter 23: Two Methods of Understanding “Thus Says
the Lord”
What does the locution “Thus says
the Lord” mean? Does it mean that
the words that follow came word-for-word from God to the prophet? Or does the prophet paraphrase God’s
intention and put it into his own words?
According to the school of Rabbi Akiva, the reported words are the
literal description of God’s communication; according to the school of Rabbi
Ishmael, the word “Thus” introduces the prophet’s paraphrase of the divine
intention. Again, the school of
Rabbi Ishmael gives more autonomy to the human participant in the event of
revelation.
Chapter 24: “Is It Possible That It Was on His Own
Say-So?”
More instances are given where
Moses (according to some of the Sages) acted on his own initiative: He ascended Mount Sinai on his own
initiative (Exodus 19:2-3); he set aside the three cities of refuge in
Trans-Jordan (Deuteronomy 4:41); he pitched the Tent outside the Israelite camp
(Exodus 33:7). By some views, God
confirmed his action; by another view, God did not. Did he draw a logical inference from God’s explicit word,
and attach divine sanction to the inference of his own mind? Similar issues would recur well into
the history of the Jewish tradition.
Chapter 25: The Book of Deuteronomy
Whereas the first four books of
the Torah are replete with explicit divine utterances (“The Lord spoke to Moses
saying…”), the naïve reader of Deuteronomy has good warrant for saying that it
reports the speeches that Moses made of his own volition to the Israelites in
the last year of the wandering, in the steppes of Moab. Interestingly, a number of rabbinic
opinions can be found saying that Moses spoke selected portions of Deuteronomy,
or even the whole book, of his own volition – a much greater grant of human
initiative than the previous!
Again, there are contrary rabbinic opinions that condemn such a view as
heretical. This dispute is related
to the prior basic dispute (Chapter 20):
was the entire Torah revealed at Sinai and repeated a second time in the
wilderness and a third time in the steppes of Moab? Or were the utterances recorded as occurring at a later time
spoken for the first time at that later time? Was the “Torah” given all at once, or in stages over time –
and with what degree of human initiative?
Chapter 26: Is the
Prophet a Partner or a Vessel?
This is one of the most central
questions in the whole book. If
the prophet is a mere vessel of God’s word, then the Torah that comes to us is
wholly divine. If, however, the
prophet adds something to the message – his personality, literary style, etc. –
then the result is “the word of God and the word of man” (to use a phrase from God In Search of Man).
Chapter 27: “See, How
Great Was Moses’ Power!”
Was Moses extraordinary or
ordinary? And what difference does
this make in the issues of this book?
It actually cuts across the issue of the previous chapter. It can be argued, for instance, that
the more extraordinary was, the more it was his heroic achievement to shape the
Torah. Maimonides indeed credits
Moses with extraordinary understanding, but also insists that the Torah is
totally God’s doing. (Secretly,
however, Maimonides may have held otherwise.) If Moses was ordinary, we might think that he was a passive
vessel to receive God’s message.
Yet some rabbis cited in this chapter reconcile the ordinariness of
Moses with his playing an active partnering role with God.
Also discussed in this chapter is the legislative power of post-Mosaic authorities. By what right did Elijah abrogate the
Deuteronomic prohibition against “sacrificing outside the precincts” when he
offered a demonstration sacrifice on Mount Carmel? By virtue of what charisma does the court have the power to
declare the New Moon, thus determining on which days the festival occurs and
work is forbidden? The courts
decide law – does that make them prophets? (Heschel implies:
Yes!)
Chapter 28: Moses’
Prophecy
This chapter is a miscellany of
different views on the specifics of Moses’ prophecy: how did Moses receive God’s message? Did the Shekhinah speak from within his
voicebox (a kabbalistic and Hasidic view)?
Chapter 29: How the
Torah Was Written
The rabbis were similarly curious
on the details of how the Torah was written. Did Moses copy it from an original, or receive oral
dictation from God? Was it written
on small clay tablets, or engraved in large stone stelas? Did God write it, or did Moses? (One view has it that Moses wrote out
13 complete copies of the Torah on the day he died – an incredible feat!)
Chapter 30: The
Maximalist and Minimalist Approaches
A number of technical objections
were raised to the maximalist theory (that the entire Torah was given to Moses
at Sinai): what, then, of the
various occasions recorded in the Torah that Moses had to ask God for legal
advice in mid-journey? Didn’t he
have all the laws in hand? Why are
some laws (specifically those without scriptural basis, such as the mode of
crafting tefillin) called “halakhah from Moses at Sinai” if all the laws were from Moses at
Sinai? To raise a totally
different problem: on what basis
was the Scroll of Esther included in the canon after prophecy had ceased? What is the magic line dividing
canonical from non-canonical – or is the line arbitrary? Were the rabbis allowed to come up with
new insights on their own, and what standing did these have? What does it mean that “things not
revealed to Moses were revealed to Rabbi Akiva”? Does revelation ever cease?
Chapter 31: The
Maximalist Approach
As we saw, the maximalists held
that every word, every letter was sacred, from Sinai. The Masoretes counted the words and letters in the holy
scriptures, and instructed which letters should be written larger or smaller
than normal. However, anomalies
seem to have crept into the text.
One tradition has it that the words with dotting over them are
doubtful. There are occasional
discrepancies between the received tradition of the Torah text and the Talmud’s
spelling of certain words. The
Talmud itself enunciates that the reading of the Septuagint (Greek translation)
differed from that of the received Hebrew version, yet was considered sacred.
Chapter 32: The
Minimalist Approach
The midrashic literature cites a
view that the last eight verses of the Torah (describing Moses’ death) or the
last twelve (starting from his ascent to Mount Nebo) were written by Joshua (as
opposed to the alternate view that Moses wrote about his own death in a kind of
prophetic dictation). According to
other views, Joshua wrote the portion of the “cities of refuge,” or completed
the poem “Ha’azinu”. Other later rabbis raised various
questions about the dating of various passages, most famously Abraham Ibn Ezra,
who pointed to discrepant passages that helped lay the foundation for modern
historical scholarship of the Biblical text.
Chapter 33: Lost Books
Several wild midrashim suggest
extraordinary possibilities: for
instance, that Eldad and Medad, the two elders who prophesied in the camp,
wrote their own books that have been lost. These speculations point to the larger question: is the Torah coterminous with
everything that has been revealed?
Maybe Moses himself only gave us a small portion of all that was
revealed to him!
PART THREE: APPLICATIONS
The remaining chapters (34-41)
address the question: If we
conceive of the nature of Torah in one way or another (as discussed in the
earlier chapters), what effect will this have on our applied practice? Among the many insights that Heschel
shares here, I offer the following for special consideration:
· In
Chapter 39, Heschel retells the famous story of the sages’ debate over the
Akhnai Oven, in which Rabbi Joshua countered Rabbi Eliezer’s many miracles and
conjuring of a heavenly voice with the simple quote: “It is not in the heavens.” Heschel comments:
“[Here] was born the idea that the Sages are the inheritors of the
prophets, and that the voice of the Sages outweighs an echoing voice from
heaven.” (p. 661)
· Also
in that chapter, Heschel stresses the ambiguous significance of Deuteronomy
5:19: “a mighty voice, and no
more” or “a mighty voice without end.”
Revelation is continuous.
· Chapter
36 stresses “both these and these are the words of the Living God” – as applied
to the dual outlooks in this very book, the truth is to be found not in the one
or other exclusively, but in the complementarity of the two.
· Though
the rabbis famously recommended to put a buffer (or “hedge”) around the law,
they also warned against the dangers of too many buffers. If Adam had not extended the
prohibition of the “Tree of Knowledge” from eating to touching, Eve might not
have erred and a great tragedy might have been prevented! (p. 722)
