On Mr. Shoshani, Questions of Identity and… Studying Tanakh (Column 361)
The man known as “Mr. Shoshani” is a figure of mystery, a religious and general intellectual who wandered the world and taught many students, some of whom became renowned across the globe. His name passed from his disciples’ lips, by word of mouth, yet it is not entirely clear who and what he was, where he was born, whence he came and where he studied, and even his very name is disputed. You can read about him on Wikipedia, and hear about him in this podcast. In recent days I was directed to a thread on the Otzar HaChochma forum, beginning with a critical article by Prof. Dov Landau about a book published about him by Shlomo Malka in 1994 (it’s worth reading further down the thread for a great deal of information), where he complains about the lack of information regarding Shoshani’s teachings. Everyone is full of his praise, but almost no one brings even a grain of his Torah.
Now, at the end of the aforementioned podcast there appears a certain gematria witticism attributed to him, along with a brief explanation. This explanation connected in my mind with what I wrote in the previous column (and of course elsewhere) about the value of studying Aggadah and Tanakh. So I’m taking the opportunity to say something more about that—or rather to reinforce what I have already said.
An example of an interpretation
The verse in Parashat Shemot tells that Moses went out and saw an Egyptian man striking a Hebrew man, and then it says: “And he struck the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.” Shoshani said that “the Egyptian” has the same numerical value in gematria as “Moses.” After that, a brief explanation of the matter was given, as follows.[1] There is a dispute among the commentators about the meaning of the verse “Moses grew up and went out to his brothers.” Who are “his brothers”? Ibn Ezra holds that “his brothers” refers to the Egyptians, meaning that Moses had an Egyptian identity by virtue of his upbringing. He grew up from infancy as Pharaoh’s son, and it is even possible that he would have sat on his throne one day. Ramban, by contrast, holds that “his brothers” refers to the Hebrews (“for they told him that he is a Jew”). Moses had a Hebrew identity by virtue of his origin, since he was the son of Amram, the leader of Israel.
Shoshani explains that Moses goes out to clarify which of his two identities is dominant and which he must choose. When he sees an Egyptian man striking a Hebrew man, he chooses his Hebrew identity, for so the verse says: “a Hebrew man from among his brothers,” meaning that “his brothers” are the Hebrews. Shoshani suggested that the meaning of the verse is that, by taking the step of striking the Egyptian, Moses nullified the Egyptian identity that had accompanied him throughout his life until then, and connected to his Jewish identity. Therefore, immediately afterward the verse says: “And he struck the Egyptian” (the Egyptian = Moses in gematria), meaning that he killed his Egyptian identity and became a Jew (recognizing the Hebrews as his brothers). The identity by birth overcame the identity of the environment in which he was raised.
A preliminary analysis
Shoshani is essentially combining different, even opposing, interpretations of two of the great early biblical commentators and synthesizing them into a single interpretation that describes a dynamic process of change and the formation of identity. The gematria is, of course, support in the homiletical vein, or perhaps merely a concise literary expression of the idea, but it certainly adds a certain aroma to this interpretation (embellishments to wisdom). Note that at least the end of his interpretation is also precise in the wording of the text. When the text says “a Hebrew man from among his brothers,” it is clear there that “his brothers” are the Hebrews. Therefore, Ibn Ezra’s interpretation that reads the word “his brothers” as Egyptians would seem to encounter a direct contradiction in the text itself. The move Shoshani proposes resolves this difficulty and presents a possibility of understanding all of Moses’ going out as an inner spiritual-psychological journey to clarify his identity. He exposes a struggle that certainly speaks to many Jews in many places and varied periods, and concludes with a decision—and implicitly also a call for all of us to decide in the Jewish direction.
It seems to me that the interpretation is indeed interesting and original. It succeeds in connecting two opposing interpretations, resolving one of them that runs into a serious difficulty from the wording of the text, and as a bonus even arouses a contemporary ethical dimension hidden between the lines of these verses and makes the passage relevant for us. Seemingly, it has everything one could hope for in a good interpretation. I certainly enjoyed reading it, and it even surprised me; yet my Litvak impulse led me to dig into it a bit. Is this really all one can expect from a good interpretation?
Some questions on a second look
As a Litvak, I asked myself how I should relate to this interpretation from several angles:
- Question of truth. Is this really the meaning of the verses? Have we been persuaded that this is indeed what the author of the Torah intended? The identification of “his brothers” with the Hebrews is well anchored in the text, but there is no hint there of the entire process he describes. It is certainly possible that such a process took place, and the circumstances of Moses’ upbringing even point in that direction (for from his biography alone one would expect an inherent tension between the identity acquired in his upbringing and the identity derived from his origin). And yet it is hard to see this process in the text itself, and I am far from convinced that this is indeed the interpretation of the verses. This may surprise some of you, but even after one hears a pleasant and interesting interpretation, and even if it resolves some difficulty, and even if it seems to follow from Moses’ biography, the question of truth remains. Did the text indeed intend this? In my view, what is required of a good interpretation also relates to the question of truth and exegetical persuasion.
One could perhaps begin from the premise that if there is a plausible and reasonable interpretation of the verses, then the author of the Torah likely intended that we learn it also in that direction. According to this proposal, any direction permitted by the text is a legitimate interpretation, and the meticulous will add that the Holy One, blessed be He, originally intended it as well (“seventy facets to the Torah”). Thus we exempt our interpretations from the need to persuade—that is, from the question of truth. We should focus on the possibility of the interpretation, not on its necessity. Yet it seems to me that such an approach almost empties interpretive effort of content and purpose altogether.
- Question of definition. Was the dilemma between emotional identification with Egyptians and Hebrews, or perhaps a choice between cultures, or maybe between different value systems? It seems to me that striking the Egyptian indicates national-emotional identification and not necessarily a value choice. And perhaps these are related?…
- Question of reasoning. What are the sides of the dilemma? Is it taking place on the psychological plane or on the ethical plane? Clearly, culturally Moses stands between two cultures (if at all). It is reasonable that his emotional identification could pull him in both directions. But must he necessarily decide between them? Could he not adopt Egyptian culture together with his Jewish ethnic identity? (The implications for our day are clear.) And in general, is the fact that someone identifies emotionally with a group or a particular person a matter of ethics? This is how he grew up and therefore this is what he feels. I see no necessity to give that up. On the contrary, some would see value in not surrendering our universal identity, together with halakhic commitment.
True, if we introduce the ethical dimension of the two sides (the Egyptians’ abuse of Israel, or their conduct per se—idolatry, the attitude toward Pharaoh, and the like), then it is indeed reasonable that there is an obligation to decide and choose one of them. But in that case I would describe Moses’ decision as an ethical decision, not an identity decision. He sees injustice and protests against it, even if he were to remain emotionally and nationally identified with the Egyptians. On the contrary, perhaps as one possessing an Egyptian identity I would expect him to correct them from within rather than join another group (certainly if “Egyptianness” was the universality of that time), even if it is a better one.
- Question of novelty. Can we really say that I learned something here? Would any of us not arrive at this conclusion on our own? If I posed the following question: Suppose you are born a Jew and raised in an Egyptian home, and suppose there is a struggle and Egyptians abuse Jews—should one choose one’s Jewish identity? I imagine that the vast majority would answer yes. So what, in fact, have we learned from Shoshani’s interpretation?
- Question of authority. This is the flip side of the previous question. Suppose there is a person who would answer my question above in the negative. He is a staunch universalist who opposes particular identities (yet is committed to Halakhah). Now he sees Shoshani’s interpretation. Would he be persuaded and change his position? I assume—and hope—we would all agree that he would not. Clearly not.
One could say that a learner’s attitude to such an interpretation, when he a priori disagrees with it, depends on whether he sees the Bible as a source of authority or a source of inspiration:
- If he is among those who accept the authority of Scripture, then of course he would choose a different interpretation that better fits his position (a universalist one). For example, Moses, as one with an Egyptian identity (as per Ibn Ezra), does not relinquish that identity. Yet he still protests injustice and therefore strikes the Egyptian. See how great his deeds are: Moses strikes his brothers in culture and identity upon the altar of justice and morality, and does not be taken captive by his Egyptian ethnocentrism and chauvinism. What is wrong with this interpretation? Is there anything inferior about it compared to Shoshani’s? The choice between them is, of course, a matter of ethical identification and not of exegetical persuasion.
- And if we are dealing with someone who does not accept the authority of Scripture (seeing it as a source of inspiration rather than authority), then he could accept Shoshani’s interpretation and still remain in his opposing stance—criticizing Scripture for its particularism and lack of universalism.
For my part, it is of greater importance to examine what such an interpretation does for one who accepts the authority of Scripture. Can such an interpretation change anything for him? I assume we would all agree that it cannot.
The educational value: what is learning?
I assume many would argue that such an interpretation may still have value, since it helps to instill more firmly in us the value of national identity (assuming there is such a value). That is, even if there is no novelty here, and even if we have always understood this value (?), still such an interpretation produces internalization, and therefore has educational value (or anti-educational value, in the eyes of universalists).
This I can certainly accept, but it is not learning. Learning means extracting new information or insight that I did not know before. Even repetition of what I learned is learning, since it helps me remember and retain that information or insight and not forget it. But here we are not dealing with new information or insight, nor even with repetition for the sake of memory. I both know and remember the value of national identification with my people. Here we are dealing with an educational instrument. To my understanding, education is not learning (though the converse is less clear-cut: learning generally has an educational dimension). Compare this with studying a history or physics book. There we are dealing with learning in every sense, whether I am learning something new or reviewing my studies, since there new items of information and insights about the world are being renewed for me.
Conclusions and generalizations
It seems to me that this interpretation certainly contains an interesting insight and reflects interpretive intelligence worthy of appreciation (though I do not know whether it is truly a stroke of brilliance). But it is important to note that its brilliance lies solely on the interpretive plane. It introduces into the verses a dimension that I had not initially thought resided in them. Yet the very insight learned (that we ought to choose our Jewish identity) contains nothing new. And if there is something new in it (i.e., if I think it is not correct that there is an obligation to choose this identity, since I espouse universalism), I will not accept it, because its derivation from the verses is never compelled.
But as I have written more than once, this is the nature of interpretations of verses and of Aggadot in general. Even those that include genuine flashes of brilliance—and there certainly are such—the flashes are always on the interpretive plane. I never find in them programmatic brilliance, or even substantive innovations. The content is always predictable (be humble, heroic, courageous, devoted, of good character, God-fearing, and the like), and the brilliance lies in the manner of inserting the content—predictable to the point of banality—into the verses. Moreover, if such an interpretation proposes content that is novel for me (i.e., content I do not agree with a priori), then I will never accept it, because its derivation from the verses is never necessary.
The sad conclusion is that the only value in engaging with such interpretations is simply the engagement with words of Torah. There is no learning there in the full sense. This engagement may have intrinsic value, or perhaps even educational value (connecting to well-known ideas, as in the well-known preface of Mesillat Yesharim), but not learning value. It is not Torah study (in my opinion, not even “Torah in the person”).
Epilogue
Last Friday evening I was sent another article by Attorney David Kurzweil, published in the Shabbat supplement of Makor Rishon (from yesterday). He hangs his thesis, how could he not?!, on the plague of frogs (see the previous column), and also on the connection between the second plague and the second commandment of the Ten Commandments (the prohibition of idolatry), and from this he draws far-reaching conclusions in various and diverse areas. And I, a small Litvak, wonder again: regardless of his words themselves and the insights that arise from them (which are certainly interesting and worth study and consideration), what added value is there in the very tenuous linkage made there to the plague of frogs and to the second commandment? In my eyes—not much. All the questions I asked above can be repeated regarding that article as well, and in fact regarding any interpretation offered to you about the Bible or the Aggadot of the Sages. It seems to me you will discover that the situation is very similar in almost all cases.
[1] I am relying on a message in a WhatsApp group, based on Rabbi Sherki in the name of Manitou. But Shoshani was apparently the original source of the idea.
Discussion
In a certain sense, the midrashic process is a deductive process insofar as it binds firm inner insights/beliefs that are given in advance to the findings on the ground (verses and events). That is, the movement is from top to bottom, from what is definitely known toward the meaning of occurrences and formulations. Therefore this movement is called derashah, inquiry, the movement of the will that shapes the reality in which it appears and illuminates it in a new light. Indeed, one can sketch these insights in principle in purely philosophical language, or in spatial metaphorical form as in Kabbalah. Why connect them to verses, or point to the places where the verses awaken the memory of the insights? Because the ideas engraved in our will and known to us from the outset are an inseparable part of all the parts of our soul and body, our events, and the tradition. The findings that arouse induction ultimately also arouse the deductive insights, and the latter breathe spirit into the former. In truth this is observation of the same reality, only from different angles, and these observations do indeed awaken very different aspects of reality that seem foreign. But that is not the truth. And if in human psychology there is room for these two movements, all the more so when it comes to the word of God addressed to humanity in prophecy, from which flowed to us the knowledges engraved in the depths of our soul. There is a great expanse and many planes in the lens of the human being standing before the light of God. If only a person will not be rigid, and will be balanced in his inferential and cognitive temperament, with traits of a certain flexibility founded on humor—the full word of God will be able to shine in his consciousness. The depressed person is, seemingly, much more realistic than the healthy one, insofar as he perceives only the outlines of reality and of his soul. The unrealistic optimism of the healthy person is correct, because it is realistic when one takes into account the life of the soul and the will. I am preparing for your sharp response, as is your way… Despite the large gap, every few months I feel the need to try once again to present my thoughts to you
I sense here an accusation of silencing. I don’t remember any responses I gave you, so I don’t know what this is about.
As for your remarks here, in my view they are themselves yet another example of derashah, except that beyond that I also don’t understand the argument itself (it is very vague). As far as I understand, you are simply returning to the educational value I discussed.
You learned this from Shushani? From the verses? Or perhaps after he said it you understood that this is correct? Because if you didn’t understand that it is correct, I suggested other ways to read the verses. So in my opinion you did not learn it from the verses, nor from Shushani. Either you thought this from the outset (and perhaps weren’t aware of it), or you were persuaded of the plausibility of the claim itself. By the way, this is an epilogue and it does not really appear in his words. There is a significant event here on the way to the formation of identity, but it is hard to define a clear claim about a change in a single moment.
For my own part, I also don’t think it is true.
Heaven forbid—simply, when I would write, the size of the gap in our positions was evident, so I felt the dialogue would not bear significant fruit. I am claiming more than educational value; I am claiming that derashah has a dimension of objective wisdom. The object is the speaker’s will in the verses, and like any will it has a depth dimension that allows for inductive and deductive inference in the senses I mentioned. Just as if so-and-so responds to an embarrassing event by saying “everything is fine,” and I know that not everything is fine through analyzing his facial expression (induction), as well as prior acquaintance with part of his inner soul (an unsuccessful example of deduction in the sense I mean here), so too in reading the verses and expounding them. And more than that: in truth it is so in halakhic decision-making as well, though in a much less evident way.
It seems to me that “knowledge” of some content is not a binary thing—before I didn’t know and now I do. Rather, knowledge also has a dimension of depth—to what extent the thing has penetrated into me and become part of my worldview. Not for nothing is knowledge spoken of in the sense of connection and attachment to the thing (“And the man knew”), and connection and attachment of course have many possible levels. If one person knows a certain principle in a theoretical way, and another actually lives by it, the latter has an advantage not only on the “educational” plane but also in the knowledge itself. Therefore when, for example, one studies the books of the prophets, even if there is nothing new at all in their words and they keep repeating the very same message, still the very fact that the same message is repeated from different angles helps internalize it in the soul and strengthens the depth of its “knowledge,” and therefore it can certainly be called “learning.”
With God’s help, 5 Shevat 5781
One may say that Moses does not sever himself completely from his Egyptian identity, that is to say, from the universal one; rather, he buries it in the sand. As is known, the nature of burial in sand is to intensify whatever is there. If what is buried in the sand is hot—then burial in sand increases its heat; and if what is buried in the sand is cold—then the sand cools it even more.
Moses understands that his universal values are not yet mature enough to influence humanity, and therefore he buries them in the sand in order to cultivate and intensify them and bring out their latent potential.
When the people of Israel succeed in developing their unique values, the abundance of the seas of holy values, in the sense of “the sea resembles the sky,” together with “the hidden treasures of the sand,” the universal values, which have fully ripened through being buried in the sand—then the people of Israel will be able to influence humanity properly, and then “peoples shall call to the mountain; there they shall offer sacrifices of righteousness”
With blessings, Simchah HaLevi Fish"l-Plankton
It’s hard for me to respond because this is very vague. Do you have an example?
I’d be glad to see an example.
And indeed, after striking the Egyptian—Moses goes to a foreign land, temporarily frees himself from the Hebrew-Egyptian entanglement, and “opens a new page in a new place.” In Midian too he finds a place to distinguish himself in the mission of saving the oppressed,
but there he also understands that he must learn how one creates a healthy society from the outset, a society in which there are no persecutors and persecuted. He takes a wife and establishes a family, negotiates with his father-in-law, the greatest of the experts in the “science of religions” of all the cultures of the world, and apprentices in leadership as shepherd of his flock. When he returns after decades to save his people—he will already come with a rich load of insights into how to build a healthy society, a good basis for receiving divine guidance.
Moses in Midian is the only Hebrew who lives a life of freedom, and can think, observe, and plan. After decades of thought and observation—Moses will be able to be the “Archimedean point” that can “move” first his people, and ultimately all humanity. Moses too must undergo an “intensifying burial.” To perfect himself so that he can bring to completion.
With blessings, Pedahtzur Fish"l Peri-Gan
An example: Where is Haman alluded to in the Torah? “From the tree.” The very question of God to man—whether he had indeed eaten from the tree—contains an appearance as though God does not know man’s deeds. This appearance is the reality upon which Haman bases his worldview and conduct. The empty space, Amalek, etc. etc., many codes of an evolving inner language that revolves around insights found within us and passed down from generation to generation. The Breslovers who speak about Moses our teacher’s silence before the empty space are observing the same reality to which Hazal alluded in this derashah. What is added for us by the derashah? Why did Hazal not speak, like the Ari, about the abstract inner knowledge in and of itself? Because this inner reality was expressed in the history of their people, in outlooks and in flesh-and-blood life. In Haman and in Adam the first man. The connection to the verse and to events is not only educational; it is an exposure of the objective root from which the events rolled forth, the events of our lives. And this line still needs to be continued to show that the word hamin (“from the tree”) and Haman’s name are identical not by chance, but that is harder still. דווקא the Ari’s style of description is exilic; it is a description of the most basic infrastructure of the life and laws of our soul when this regularity is no longer apparent in day-to-day life. The analysis of the word of God as living speech in a deductive way, in light of the knowledges we already possess when we come to understand the speech, is a very precious part of understanding the word of God, just as in understanding any speech between a person and his fellow. The fact that the science of psychology belongs to everyone and everyone sees themselves as experts in it, and it is easy to lie in it, does not mean it is not a precious science. “All Israel are sons of prophets,” and derashot too… Precisely because it touches directly the arena and raw material of discourse, it is far more prone to error and lack of clarity. “The essence of the matter” is simpler than sketching and calculating its contours, but it is also more precious and meaningful. So too in halakhic decision-making: the decisor’s ruling in the end is intuitive and influenced by his meta-analysis of the sugya and even of the whole Torah; that is, it has an element of a ruling with a deductive direction.
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…Moses too must undergo an “intensifying burial” …
By the way.
Ibn Ezra wrote, “And he went out to his brothers—the Egyptians, for he was in the king’s palace.” That is, the addition “for he was in the king’s palace” comes to prove that his brothers are the Egyptians. But what does the palace specifically have to do with it? Ibn Ezra should have said: his brothers, the Egyptians, because he grew up with them. The interpretation itself, that his brothers are Egyptians, is strange and clashes with the continuation of the verse, “a Hebrew from his brothers,” and Ibn Ezra has no reason to corner himself into such an odd interpretation. It also says “and he saw their burdens,” meaning their slavery and labor, and if so they are the enslaved Hebrews (as in “and you have made them cease from their burdens”). And Ramban also did not note that he disputes Ibn Ezra on this point.
Therefore, were I not afraid, I would say that this is a scribal error, and it should read: “And he went out to his brothers—the Hebrews, for he was in the king’s palace.” And the addition “for he was in the king’s palace” comes to explain why it had to say “he went out to his brothers,” the Hebrews, and why he did not see their burdens every day. It explains that he was in the king’s palace, far from the areas of industry, conquest, and oppression. And all this is in keeping with Ibn Ezra’s way of writing simple and understandable things without strange inventions.
Two comments.
A. I am attaching a link to a nice article by Yael Levin about Shushani, containing authentic testimonies about the man—the first of them taken from the words of my late grandfather, Dr. Yehuda Muriel, who knew Shushani personally and often spoke in his praise.
https://www.makorrishon.co.il/judaism/14611/
B. I think, and not for the first time, that you are reducing the definition of learning. Learning is not only “new information” but also new insight. A new interpretive reading, in which the contents fit the text, the aggadah, or the verse perfectly, is learning. (I put my life in my hands: like a physical law you knew very well, learned long ago, but have just now received additional confirmation of in an unexpected place. This confirmation causes you to think about it again and see new facets in it.) Evidence for this is the joy of heart that there is in this kind of novelty, accompanied by the feeling that the learner has hit upon the truth of Torah, the truth of aggadah. He has not merely received confirmation of his values, but has seen them appear in a new reality, in a new way, and thereby learned more about the nature of man, about the nature of the forces with which he collides. This is not merely banal repetition of previous contents (“write on the board a hundred times that one must behave politely toward the teacher”), because there is a new application here, and every such new application adds a layer to the understanding that rises or deepens.
And regarding the study of the Bible—
The post’s author claims, as is his way, that every sensible insight arising from reflection on the text is trivial, and therefore reflection on the text is unnecessary. But that is not so.
There are many things a person never thought of on his own, and only reflection on the text, while noticing its hints and “wrinkles,” led him to think in that direction—so that after the thinking, the insight is found plausible and acceptable; but not everything that seems reasonable after study is trivial.
In any case, thus did the Giver of the Torah instruct Joshua: “This book of the Torah shall not depart from your mouth, and you shall meditate on it day and night, for then you shall make your way prosperous, and then you shall have success.” This is the “manufacturer’s instruction” to study the text, again and again, in order to extract from it insights relevant to life’s questions.
With blessings, Yaron Fish"l Ordner
The same would apply to reading Chipopo in the Congo. There can be many sources of inspiration.
That is possible, and examples are still required. In my impression, there is not much benefit in these “studies,” apart from internalization and reinforcement of things already known (in the style of Mesillat Yesharim). And by the way, all of this can of course happen with any other text as well.
And this is supposed to be a concrete and clear example? The “From the tree” witticisms? You can learn tons of things this way from the witticisms in Ma’ayanah Shel Torah, and also from Chipopo.
Here (at the end of the right column) I found an old printing in which it indeed says, “And he went out to his brothers—the Hebrews, for he was in the king’s palace”:
https://www.hebrewbooks.org/pdfpager.aspx?req=42335&st=&pgnum=39
And one should also add that Ibn Ezra, in his own wording, writes plainly that Moses’ “brothers” are the Hebrews. He suggests that the Holy One, blessed be He, arranged that Moses not grow up among his Hebrew “brothers,” because no prophet is accepted in his own city. This is his language: “Perhaps God brought this about so that Moses would grow up in the royal household, so that his soul would be elevated through learning and habit, and not be lowly, accustomed to being in a house of slaves. Indeed, see that he killed the Egyptian because he was doing violence. And he saved the daughters of Midian from the shepherds who were doing violence by watering their flocks with the water they had drawn. And one more thing—had he grown up among his brothers and they known him from his youth, they would not have feared him, for they would have regarded him as one of them.”
When there is an opportunity to link to a successful cult segment, one does not refrain from it. From You Must Be Joking, Mr. Feynman
Without disparaging Chipopo, whose words are sweeter than a date and constitute a generative stone of ideas (Born Stein) for “the stranger,” our Creator bequeathed His Torah to His people Israel for us to meditate upon.
With blessings, Shimpan Zevi Levingang-utang
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…whose words are sweeter than a date, and constitute a stone that gives rise to ideas…
What a wonderful answer.
More strength to you in Torah
And this is an a fortiori: if from a human creation one can arrive at important insights—then all the more so from a creation that is “a letter of God” or the fruit of the holy spirit of righteous and pious prophets—all the more and all the more so that one can learn great things from it.
With blessings, Pila BeKopa
This is actually a wonderful example for our matter. I showed well that what you see as a dvar Torah bordering on the profane is deep wisdom, an intergenerational discourse about an objective and historical reality. Because the character of the give-and-take on this plane is not empirical, you disparage it; but I see this disparagement as a tendency of soul of mistrust and not an objective response to my claims. I do not feel you succeeded at all in touching the claims. You point to a lack of trust in the ability to distinguish between weighty sources and derashot and those that are not, and therefore you throw out the baby with the bathwater. From the start I elaborated to explain that these flaws are not, in my view, enough to undermine the importance and foundational nature of this interpretive path of derashah
An example: two people learned that there is reward and punishment for deeds. For one, this is just one more piece of knowledge among many others, whereas the second reflected on it a great deal and illustrated it to himself with all kinds of examples and parables (some of which do not even teach it necessarily, but he assumed what was to be proved), until this knowledge accompanies him all the time and affects all his deeds. In my opinion one can definitely say that there is a difference between them in the level of the knowledge itself and not only a psychological difference (or perhaps the distinction itself between knowledge and psychology is not all that sharp).
With that I do not agree. Chayota suggested that there are some nuances that are added, and that I am willing to accept as learning. But what you are describing is internalization and education.
I would like to make a fundamental remark about the problematic nature of all these stories about holy men. I entered the link Chayota attached (I think I read it in the past), and I also read interviews about Shushani with Shalom Rosenberg and others.
Even if we assume that Shushani was as great a genius as the poetic descriptions about him say—a kind of combination of Einstein, Kant, and Leonardo da Vinci—why is this so important?
The relevant question is what contribution he left behind, and from what I understand the contribution is very meager.
Learning, education, and “legacy” are expressed first and foremost in loads that can be passed on. Where are Shushani’s loads..?
To “strengthen” my claim I will bring a short demagogic story. A few years ago I spoke about Shushani on the sidelines of a lecture by Uri Sherki. My interlocutor was a fellow who was not a researcher or scholar or anything of that sort, but from my superficial impression was an intelligent man. When he spoke admiringly about Shushani, I asked him that same question about the man’s contribution. The fellow did not get confused and was not embarrassed, and immediately waved around the fact that Shushani produced students like Shalom Rosenberg and Levinas.
Can anyone really be persuaded by such an answer..?
Yes. I can.
Thank you.
Why are students not loads? If the student succeeds in passing on intellectual loads to you, and he says that he progressed and attained thanks to his teacher, then the teacher in fact passed intellectual loads on to you (through the student). If you have a bottle of water, you can either drink from it or pour it onto the ground to water a tomato plant and then eat the tomato that grows. Both are benefits that came from the water. The problem is only that there is “ink,” and the evaluation of the teacher is blocked from above by combining the evaluations of the students (there is much to discuss whether “combining” or some other function is correct, since different talents fertilize one another).
Good for you. I ask myself whether in daily life too you evaluate people’s distinctive contribution by such indirect means. All the more so when it comes to evaluating someone’s intellectual contribution.
By the way, I doubt the importance of Levinas’s thought (I am not speaking about the man himself). If Shushani’s contribution to that thought is substantial (how does one measure that? how does one even give him credit for it?), I am not sure how much it counts to his credit.
Students are not “loads,” for exactly the same reason that cats are not bananas and tables are not planets. They are two different things. Of course I do not deny the ability of a brilliant and charismatic person to have a great effect on the cast of mind and life of his student, and of course that can also indirectly affect the student’s ideas. But this is true to a large extent also of the influence of parents, siblings, a spouse, etc. on a person’s personality and abilities (and those of a thinker).
Ask yourself: if Shushani had such brilliant ideas, why did he not publish them himself (unless he did so and they were lost)? Did he build on the idea that his influence on his students would one day yield their “release” from the students’ minds?
Output, even if intellectual, is still “output”: it has relatively distinct criteria. See, for example, Kant, Plato, and even Levinas himself (whose path I do not value, but whose distinctive contribution can still be pointed to relatively easily)
If one is looking for indications that Shushani was a great and unusual sage, then there are two such indications. One is the quality of the students, the second is the testimony of the students. If one is looking for benefit that you and I can receive from Shushani’s thoughts, then there is no direct benefit from them, but there is indirect benefit mediated by the students (even though these are not the same thoughts, the teacher’s thoughts influenced them, according to their own claims and feelings. I leave it to you as an exercise to formulate for yourself the distinction between this and the influence of a spouse). He indeed left no writings, and his students too are not releasing concrete output, and that is indeed very strange and a suspicious indication regarding the quality. So what is the discussion here about—whether it is “justified” to appreciate someone only on the basis of indirect indications? A very abstract discussion in my view.
1. I am not looking for any indications of Shushani’s wisdom or uniqueness. I was looking for an indication of his contribution.
2. The students’ testimony is important, especially because these are respected people. By contrast, the fact that they themselves are “high-quality” (assuming that is true) carries in my view almost no weight. Many respected people admired other people, and even admired their “contribution,” even when the latter was meager or problematic. I do not have much interest in the students’ mental state (=their evaluations).
3. This abstract issue interests me enough, and apparently you too, since you took the trouble to respond to it twice. But in my opinion it is not only interesting to both of us but also important. It exposes a bias we all sometimes fall victim to, namely focusing on what is secondary.
4. In any case, until the man’s secret and brilliant writings are discovered—he probably really was a genius in certain respects—I allow myself not to get excited by the story. When they are discovered, we’ll talk.
1-2. You are not looking for indications of his wisdom, but you admit that there are such indications. The students’ evaluation is a factual datum that should affect your factual (historical) beliefs, just as if someone tells you, “To Trumpeldor Street, turn right at the traffic circle,” and you do not say, “Ah, his mental state is that in his consciousness there is an experience in which Trumpeldor Street is to the right of the circle.”
4. There is no direct contribution that remained—no one disputed that. So what exactly are you claiming? I can suggest several versions: A. that without a remaining direct contribution it is not “fair” to appreciate the man. B. that without a remaining direct contribution it is “incorrect” to “get excited.” C. that without a remaining direct contribution there is no remaining direct contribution.
Version D—without a direct contribution it is likely he was not such a great sage—you yourself rejected when you clarified that you are not dealing with indications of his wisdom.
The version that seems to me to fit best, despite your refusal to deal with indications of his wisdom, is E. that students’ testimonies tend toward exaggeration and the mystery generates an unwarranted aura, so that his wisdom and uniqueness were probably at a lower level than the myth describes. To that I fully join you (for a phenomenal memory in itself is of course of no importance; it is only a means).
3. What interests me is to show you that the issue is abstract.
1. You insist on clinging to the label “abstract” for a subject that is both interesting and important. Apparently not only to me. Perhaps you think something “abstract” cannot be interesting or important…? I don’t understand you.
2. Yes, Shushani was apparently very wise. Congratulations.
3. You tried to propose more distilled versions of my claim. One of them was that there is no reason to “get too excited” about the man or the story. I definitely buy that version, but it is not the main point for me.
The main point is that people tend—perhaps I too among them—to give too much credit to wisdom and brilliance. These traits are of course very important, but far less important than rationality and bringing rational products to light and putting them to the test.
Myths should sometimes be tested. In many cases it is even worthwhile to shatter them. The importance of “wisdom” (“genius”) is sometimes such a myth.
The meaning of these words, as spoken by Manitou (Rabbi Yehuda Leon Ashkenazi, of blessed memory) and his student Rabbi Sherki, may his light shine, takes on a different context. This is not just a mere vort but part of an entire system of belief that sees the development of human identity from Adam the first man until the end of days—through the people of Israel.
This conception begins from a deep understanding of the meaning of the Ari’s doctrine of tzimtzum, shattering, and repair, and from it comes the meaning for the process of moral development (and the unity of the traits).
Indeed, the choice to attach oneself to the eternal divine path of the people of Israel is the moral and ethical decision par excellence. (So too one should understand the midrash in Shemot Rabbah that the infant Moses stretches out his hand to the coal instead of the gold, and because he brought his hand to his mouth his speech was impaired with a stammer.)
And much more could be said.
Such a reading of the Bible and the aggadic midrashim of Hazal teaches about the inner processes that humanity and the people of Israel have undergone, and still must undergo, until the complete redemption
I received corrections to the epilogue in the column regarding David Kurzweil’s article.
1. The one who created the link between the plague of frogs and the second commandment was the Hiddushei HaRim, not the author.
2. The insights (“or the far-reaching conclusions in various and diverse fields”) that he claims in his article are not the result of the comparison made by the Hiddushei HaRim, but stand on their own. By virtue of these insights, an explanation was also proposed there for the connection claimed by the Hiddushei HaRim. Pointing to the connection is the result of the thesis, not what caused it.
And this was my reply:
This connection still seems unnecessary and forced to me. This is not a question of blame (of the author or of the HaRim). My point was to indicate the lack of value in connections of this sort.
I would add that the distinction between the directions (from the ideas you described to the claim of the HaRim, or vice versa) is not sharp in itself, nor in the article itself. Thus, for example, a scientific theory explains the facts but is also confirmed by them. Therefore when the author explains the HaRim’s claim, by that very fact he is also claiming that the HaRim’s claim strengthens/confirms his own words.
One should note that the article opens by saying that there is an eternal significance to the plague of frogs, and the article is essentially meant to explain what that significance is. But I deny precisely this. That is not the significance of the plague of frogs, and hanging it on the claims in the article is derash. In my opinion it adds nothing and even detracts with regard to the ideas themselves. It would have been better to present the ideas in and of themselves, without connecting them to frogs and idolatry and to Hasidic links between them.
In the book of Tanya, at the end of chapter 3, the Alter Rebbe explains what da’at is, and there he explains (as Yosef wrote) that it means attachment and connection to a certain thing. And I heard a nice parable that illustrates this: about a simple farmer who did not know how to read or write and hired a teacher for his son. One bright day the farmer received a letter in the mail, and since he did not know how to read, he asked the teacher to read it for him. And when the teacher finished reading, the farmer burst into tears, for he had learned of his father’s death, while the teacher did not bat an eyelash. And supposedly both of them were exposed to the same information? Rather, the information affected the farmer emotionally as well, whereas for the teacher the information was not in the category of da’at, but merely added new knowledge to him. And perhaps the emotional effect can be a measure of how deep my knowledge is, while the “learning” you mentioned is about the quantity and quality of my knowledge on the intellectual level.
With God’s help, 5 Shevat 5781
That the frog is a symbol of the hope that the whole world will unite in accepting the yoke of the kingdom of heaven is indicated by the Song of the Frog (Perek Shirah, end of chapter 4), which says: “Blessed be the name of the glory of His kingdom forever and ever.” This is the praise that Jacob said when he saw that all his sons were united in their faith in God and in accepting the yoke of the kingdom of heaven.
With blessings, Tzfardei MehaKarpatim
With God’s help, 5 Shevat 5781
To Ramda—greetings,
What, is “internalization and education” a small matter? After all, the Torah explains the purpose of the revelation at Mount Sinai as “that His fear may be before you, so that you may not sin,” and so too the king is commanded: “And he shall write for himself this copy of the Torah in a book… and it shall be with him, and he shall read from it all the days of his life, in order that he may learn to fear the Lord his God, to keep all the words of this Torah and these statutes, to do them, that his heart not be lifted above his brothers, and that he not turn aside from the commandment to the right or to the left…”
However, according to the “manufacturer’s instructions,” we were also commanded to reflect and delve into the language of the Torah, as the Giver of the Torah instructed: “This book of the Torah shall not depart from your mouth, and you shall meditate on it day and night, in order that you may observe to do according to all that is written in it; for then you shall make your way prosperous, and then you shall have success.”
We thus find that reflection on the Torah is not only a tool for internalization and education, but also that “the tree was desirable to make one wise.”
With blessings, Yaron Fish"l Ordner
And as is known, Maimonides learned the foundations of faith from the Holy Scriptures (in his introduction to Perek Helek).
Regarding the wise Shushani, it seems that current research is focused on the history of his life and on attempts to decipher the secret of his identity.
In my humble opinion one should begin to apply to him: “They have forsaken Me but kept My Torah,” and try to clarify his intellectual method. As it sounds, a great deal of written material remains from him, apparently notes he wrote for himself.
These notes (together with oral statements recorded by his students) could be an excellent basis for someone who wants to write a dissertation on his intellectual doctrine, with the aspiration of working out from the interpretive flashes his intellectual method.
Clearly such a task requires a person proficient both in rabbinic literature and in philosophical literature, who can read and decipher the writings and also know the intellectual currents with which he was “in dialogue.” So that the lips of “the wise Shushani” may speak from the grave.
With blessings, Yefa"or
The desire to attribute meaning and symbolism to the ten plagues is an understandable human desire. And from time to time commentators engage in it. For the plague of the firstborn, for example, Scripture gives its own interpretation—“Israel is My son, My firstborn… behold, I will strike your son, your firstborn.” This is almost not symbolic at all but really direct. The plague of blood is the most symbolic, understandable, and powerful in my eyes, for it has a clear visual expression of the blood of the babies that supposedly floated up from the Nile, into which they were cast. The darkness can be interpreted as an expression of loss of way and moral blindness, etc. One can argue whether Kurzweil’s proposal regarding the frogs is fitting or not, but it does not seem right to me to dismiss the very attempt outright, for it has value and benefit. A person seeks meaning and significance. For that is what he was created for.
Is there not a difference between “measure for measure” (a kind of justice) and symbols (the transmission of messages)?
The plague of the firstborn is measure for measure—Egypt harmed the firstborn son of the Holy One, blessed be He, and therefore the Holy One, blessed be He, harms the firstborn of Egypt. That is indeed direct from Scripture.
But the plague of blood, even if there really is a connection to the babies, is not measure for measure but a symbolic matter. Likewise darkness as representing moral loss of direction is a general symbol or a message to the world. But the whole symbol is unnecessary. What does this message give, what is it for, and to whom does it add anything new?
I don’t think this is from Mr. Shushani. From what I understood, reading the Torah through the framework of identities is an innovation of Manitou.
Regarding your five questions. 1-3: they are questions about this specific interpretation. That has nothing at all to do with the essence of studying the Bible.
4: What difference does it make whether there is some novelty? Now we know this idea has a basis from the Holy One, blessed be He.
5: This relates to question 1. If this really is the true interpretation and you believe the Torah is from heaven, then wouldn’t you accept it?
The fact that the frogs are a symbol of the struggle against idolatry is also expressed in the fact that Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah learned from them the duty of self-sacrifice not to bow to the idol.
And through faith and devotion humanity will merit tzfar-de’a, a new morning in which “the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the Lord”!
With blessings, Tzfardei MehaKarpatim
Manitou was one of Shushani’s students. And according to his own testimony, part of his doctrine comes from things Shushani taught
Chayota, the search for meaning is a subjective matter. To each person his own meaning. That is not learning. Whether that is what man was created for or not can be debated separately, but that is not the discussion here. I can search for meaning in the telephone pole beside me, because that is what I was created for, and say that its straightness and uprightness are analogous to the integrity and upright bearing required of me.
The comparison does not get off the ground. The straightness of an electric pole stems from practical reasons and does not require further explanation. The detailing of the ten plagues, the choice of these specifically, their being written in the Torah—all these have a reason that we must decipher, in order to learn Torah and a lesson from it.
My impression is that Mr. Shushani was a kind of R. Moshe Shapira, an impressive person in whose presence you get the feeling that he is greater than you, but when you try to break down and formulate what he innovated or what he changed, you find flashes and cleverness, and what remains in your hand is to tell the guys that “you attended Rav Moishe’s classes.”
(And I heard him quite a lot…)
With God’s help, 6 Shevat 5781
The Vilna Gaon, in his explanations to the stories of Rabbah bar bar Hana, says that the akrukta, the frog, symbolizes those who meditate on Torah, based on the midrash (Shemot Rabbah) that the plague of frogs croaking day and night came upon Egypt as punishment for having prevented Israel from meditating on Torah day and night.
And similarly Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz (in Ye’arot Devash) and Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim of Luntshitz wrote that the akrukta symbolizes those who meditate on Torah. Their words are brought in the source collection “Rabbah bar bar Hana, the fifth story” on the Da’at website.)
Indeed, the image of the frog suits Torah scholars, who are able to connect between Torah, which is likened to water, and the world of action, which stands on the ground.
With blessings, Tzfardei MehaKarpatim
On the “river frog” and its matters in rabbinic literature, see Dr. Moshe Raanan’s article, “Shmuel saw a certain scorpion sitting on a frog” (Portal HaDaf HaYomi, Nedarim 41a)
I have no idea who R. Moshe Shapira is.
I only know that Mr. Shushani has writings and that there is some woman trying to publish them. They are simply very, very disorganized, and the handwriting is also hard to decipher, and the phrasing is hard to understand, and they require broad knowledge. God willing, they will publish his writings.
With God’s help, 6 Shevat 5781
Shaul Meizelish and Menachem Michelson, in their book Echad Yachid U’Me’uchad about the rabbi of Jerusalem, Rabbi Eliyahu Pardes, describe the wise Shushani as one who “in every place where the sole of his foot trod, he left behind a trail of admirers astonished by the scope of his Jewish and general knowledge, and by his ability to weave the various fields of knowledge into astounding innovations” (p. 368).
The first meeting between Rabbi Pardes and Shushani took place when Shushani lectured at Masuot Yitzhak, where Rabbi Pardes was staying with his son. “There too, as everywhere, Shushani amazed all those gathered with a brilliant lecture, from which sparks of genius flew in every direction like fireworks.
Rabbi Pardes too listened to his lecture, and afterward a conversation developed between the two. Rabbi Pardes discovered, among other things, that the man knew the Bible and Talmud by heart from one end to the other, as well as a broad array of commentators, whom with tremendous talent he knew how to combine into one great and wondrous synthesis” (ibid.).
That is to say: not only phenomenal knowledge across all the expanses and treasures of the Bible and Talmud, but also the ability to combine the different fields of knowledge in a surprising way and thereby cast new light on familiar things.
With blessings, Yaron Fish"l Ordner
Another trait of Shushani’s character noted by Rabbi Pardes was the ability to admit error, and that is not a trivial trait in a man aware of his own genius. “In the course of the conversation a dispute broke out between them on some topic, and Rabbi Pardes disagreed with him. Later Shushani sought out Rabbi Pardes to tell him: You were right. I was wrong.”
If anyone knows, I would be glad to hear:
What did Shushani say/write about Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed?
What did he do during his stay in the USA?
Where can one obtain the books that were published about him?
Who is trying today to publish his writings?
Thanks!
How does this whole column fit with what Tosafot wrote in tractate Pesachim on page 13, “And one burns impure, doubtful, and pure terumot—even if we say that it is forbidden to burn pure ones because it says ‘the charge of My terumot,’ just as it is forbidden to render them impure, here it is permitted, even though on the Torah level simple nullification suffices and one need not burn it; nevertheless, since in the end it will become forbidden and go to waste, it is permitted to burn it, just as Rabbi Meir permitted at the end of the chapter to burn impure together with pure.” It is very important to fit our intellect to the intellect of Torah and not the Torah to our intellect, but I am fleeing from here, the whole approach here is invalid, save yourselves
In my humble opinion, in any field whatsoever, whether sacred or secular studies, the “learning” part as opposed to “drilling” is not especially high. Are history lessons learning, or merely internalizing names, dates, and events? Do we go to learn something new after a zoologist’s lecture? To the credit of Bible commentators, it should be said that they do not suffice with giving an explanation of one expression or another, but give food for thought.
I have explained more than once that new facts are learning. I received something I did not know. And also reviewing them is learning, because it helps me retain them. But neither of these happens in the study of aggadah or Bible. There it is at most internalization and education. There is no concern that I will forget that King David existed or that Israel left Egypt.
But there is concern that you will forget what is written in Parashat Mishpatim, for example. And there is concern that you will forget what Jeremiah said, and also fail to notice that what he said would happen because of non-observance of the Torah indeed happened. There is concern that you will not know how to draw a parallel between the history of the people of Israel and what is written in Parashat Ha’azinu, and so on and so forth.
I am too small, but I truly and sincerely find it difficult to understand this claim of the rabbi.
Especially in a country where at least half of its Jews have long since forgotten what is written in the Torah.
All this aside from the deep insights obtained through close reading.
With God’s help, 8 Shevat 5781
To Ramda—greetings,
From where did you derive the claim that only something new counts as “Torah study”? After all, the entire essence of the commandment of Torah study is learned from “And you shall teach them diligently to your children,” whose meaning is repetition.
Naturally, when one repeats and reviews—“there is no study hall without novelty,” and new understandings arise. But from where would one say that inventing novelties is the essence of study and nothing else?
Such an outlook can also cause distortion in the learner, who may constantly search for all kinds of strange propositions in order to fulfill his duty of “innovation.” If I have reached a correct understanding—must I overturn it?
With the blessing of “old wine with which the elders are pleased,” Simchah Fish"l HaLevi Plankton
A new fact for the learner, not necessarily a new fact in the world. Even hearing from my son that the washing machine has finished running is learning. Hearing from him that according to halakhah it is forbidden to desecrate the Sabbath is not learning.
With God’s help, 9 Shevat 5781
Shushani’s statement about Moses, who wavers between his universal identity and his Jewish identity, and in the end chooses to be with the beaten side and not with the beaters—expresses what many in that generation went through, when the allure of Western culture led them to leave the “old ghetto” of Judaism and adopt the progressive and enlightened universal identity.
The Holocaust, which revealed how far Europe was from “enlightenment” and proved to the Jew how alienated Europe was toward him—led many to return to their Jewish identity. Many came up to the Land to build it and be built by it, and many others returned to bear their Judaism proudly and feel solidarity with their brothers.
This wondrous process of revival—Shushani expressed in his words about Moses.
With blessings, Ami’oz Yaron Schnitzler
Shushani, through his full command both of rabbinic literature and of Western thought, opened a door of hope for those who were wavering, by showing in practice that it is possible to create a synthesis in which Judaism and universality complement one another.
By all the signs it appears that Mr. Shushani is no longer anonymous and hidden, and it is known with certainty that he was Hillel Perlman, a student of Rabbi Kook from the period when he was rabbi of Jaffa.
The picture of “Mr. Shushani” compared to a picture found of Hillel Perlman in his youth leaves no room for confusion
As they said before me and before you—neither you nor I has students like these who will tell such stories about us.
The question is what percentage of Judaism you have disqualified with this critique. You should have begun with a definition of what you expect a great man in Israel to be, and then seen whether he meets the criteria. As for you yourself, in any case, nothing will satisfy you
https://he.wikisource.org/wiki/%D7%A7%D7%98%D7%92%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%94:%D7%A9%D7%9E%D7%95%D7%AA_%D7%91_%D7%99%D7%98
If only you were one millionth the Torah scholar of your pretentiousness…
you would know
https://www.mgketer.org/tanach/2/2/19
https://www.mayim.org.il/?parasha=%D7%90%D7%99%D7%A9-%D7%9E%D7%A6%D7%A8%D7%99#gsc.tab=0
https://tora-forum.co.il/threads/%d7%90%d7%99%d7%a9-%d7%9e%d7%A6%d7%A8%d7%99-%d7%94%d7%A6%D7%99%D7%9C%D7%A0%D7%95-%D7%9E%D7%99%D7%93-%D7%94%D7%A8%D7%95%D7%A2%D7%99%D7%9D-%D7%95%D7%9B%D7%99-%D7%9E%D7%A6%D7%A8%D7%99-%D7%94%D7%99%D7%94-%D7%9E%D7%A9%D7%94.26625/
Rabbi Levi said before Him: Master of the Universe, Joseph’s bones entered the Land, and I do not enter the Land? The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: One who acknowledged his land is buried in his land, and one who did not acknowledge his land is not buried in his land. How do we know that Joseph acknowledged his land? His mistress says, “See, he brought us a Hebrew man,” and he did not deny it, but said, “For indeed I was stolen away from the land of the Hebrews”—therefore he was buried in his land, as it is said, “And the bones of Joseph… they buried in Shechem.” But you, who did not acknowledge your land, are not buried in your land! How so? The daughters of Jethro said, “An Egyptian man saved us from the shepherds,” and he heard and remained silent; therefore he was not buried in his land.
https://www.inn.co.il/news/521809
Anomalies—mismatches, exceptions, or deviations of nature from the predictions of the paradigm dominant in normal science. The more science develops, and the broader and more precise the paradigm becomes, the more anomalies are created. In response to anomalies, scientists try to fit the findings to the paradigm by broadly examining the area of the deviation. The matter may end with the addition of ad hoc explanations to the theory identified with the paradigm, or develop into a crisis.
Crisis—when there are too many mismatches (anomalies), and ad hoc solutions do not succeed in resolving the contradiction, a crisis is created. The crisis stage is characterized as a transitional stage, with features similar to the pre-paradigmatic stage. Scientists, seeking to save the paradigm, gather new data in an unstructured way, standard working methods are breached, and philosophical speculations appear. The crisis has a deep psychological effect on the scientific community, and usually there is tremendous difficulty in giving up the dominant paradigm. The crisis may end in saving the paradigm, ignoring the problem (at least for a while), or the collapse of the paradigm and the occurrence of a scientific revolution.
The replacement of the scientific paradigm is mainly a sociological process resembling religious conversion.
https://he.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D7%94%D7%9E%D7%91%D7%A0%D7%94_%D7%A9%D7%9C_%D7%9E%D7%94%D7%A4%D7%9B%D7%95%D7%AA_%D7%9E%D7%93%D7%A2%D7%99%D7%95%D7%AA
= “There’s always an element of coming out of the closet in a single moment. There is a long, ongoing process of identity formation, but in the end there is some one moment when you cross over into an identity, and that is the hardest and most formative moment.”
“In a certain sense the midrashic process is a deductive process…”? More correctly, “retrospective” [and as such prone to anachronisms]
https://he.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D7%90%D7%A0%D7%9B%D7%A8%D7%95%D7%A0%D7%99%D7%96%D7%9D
Therefore this movement is called derashah, inquiry”—in its first appearance in the Torah: “And the children struggled together within her; and she said: If it is so, why am I thus? And she went to inquire [!] of the Lord”—and in the Aramaic translation: “And the children pressed within her womb, and she said: If so, why am I this way? And she went to seek instruction [!] from before the Lord”
A foretaste of the World to Come
https://he.wikisource.org/wiki/%D7%9E%22%D7%92_%D7%99%D7%A9%D7%A2%D7%99%D7%94%D7%95_%D7%99%D7%91_%D7%92
What I learned from Shushani is that there is always an element of coming out of the closet in a single moment. There is a long, ongoing process of identity formation, but in the end there is some one moment when you cross over into an identity, and that is the hardest and most formative moment. Not a trivial fact, in my humble opinion.
This isn’t learned from the verses, but it teaches us something non-trivial about life…