Disputes – Lesson 2

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I spoke a bit about the formation of disputes, about this description of Maimonides following the Talmud, that the students of Hillel and Shammai did not sufficiently attend to their teachers, and therefore disputes began—which on the face of it looks like some kind of accident. Say, something that happened after the fact, a corruption of Torah information. But in the end, both in the words of the Sages and in the Talmud in Chagigah—we’ll also see it today—Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner expands on this at length in Pachad Yitzchak, Pachad Yitzchak on Hanukkah, they turned dispute into some kind of—

[Speaker B] into something

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] desirable from the outset, meaning some sort of ideology. They see value in dispute and don’t see it merely as some kind of accident and problem. It kind of reminds me now that a lot of people, when you ask them—or when you hear from people who are waiting for the Messiah to come and for the Sanhedrin to return, and we already talked about this—then finally everyone will stop with his own customs and his own disputes, there’ll be a ruling and it’ll be clear what’s right to do and what’s not right to do. Were there disputes because of the Sanhedrin? What?

[Speaker B] No, they were decided in the Sanhedrin.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I said that from my perspective that’s a nightmare, because what’s wrong with dispute? The Sanhedrin’s role is not to abolish dispute—at least, I’m saying this according to the later conception that sees dispute as something desirable from the outset. The Sanhedrin has to decide those things where it’s hard to live together if we conduct ourselves differently. There are such things. So there, of course, in public matters—say policy decisions, for example, or something like that—then obviously the government or the Sanhedrin, whatever the central institution is, has to make that decision. It can’t be that I decide I’m making a peace agreement with the Palestinians and that’s the best thing, and the PLO doesn’t—or the other way around—but in principle there has to be one decision. It doesn’t help that there are many opinions. Also on the personal level, often maybe it’s like that—even at the level of kashrut. Say, if there’s someone for whom something is really forbidden at the Torah level, then there is some point in deciding the matter, so that you can eat at someone else’s house or someone else can eat at yours. So there are quite a few things where there’s a point in deciding, in order to allow shared life. But, but, but, there is no point at all in deciding things just so that there won’t be dispute. What’s the problem? If people think differently, let them act differently. What’s wrong with that? And why should anyone dictate to me what to do and what to think and what not to do?

[Speaker B] I don’t like any ideal that someone forces on me.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, they’re not dictating to you, but rather—

[Speaker B] He’s informing you that you’re wrong.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean he’s informing me that I’m wrong? He’s not informing me that I’m wrong. I don’t recognize him as someone who tells me I’m wrong. He can force me not to act the way I act; he can’t dictate that I’m wrong. I think I’m right. You’re right and still you obey? Yes, because the Sanhedrin has authority. The authority is not to tell me that I’m wrong; the authority is to tell me what I have to do despite the fact that I think I’m right. Think that you’re right, health and happiness—but you have to do what we say. That’s the meaning of authority. I’m not obligated to accept that they’re also correct; that’s another discussion, and it’s also not the meaning of authority. The meaning of authority is that you do what they say. So I’m saying, that’s perfectly fine—we need that kind of authority, and there are certain things where you definitely need to dictate some kind of standard that binds everyone, because otherwise it’ll be hard, hard to live together. But, but, but, why would you want that to be true in every topic? I mean, just turning everyone into the same thing—I don’t see any point in it. On the contrary, it seems oppressive to me. What will we argue about? What will we fight over? What? Our lives will become boring. It reminds me of my professor at the Weizmann Institute, where I did a postdoc—he was head of the chemical physics department, a very energetic and pleasant guy, Itamar Procaccia. You know the name? Yes. A kind of political guy, a very prominent physicist, appeared on behalf of the UN on things like that, yes. His brother was married to—yes. So he once told us that he went to some place in Scandinavia—I don’t remember, Denmark, who, where—when he got there for a few days, he’s a very politically involved type, a leftist kind of guy, everything annoys him, he’s always angry. He got there and said, ah, now I’m quiet, nothing interests me, lying on the bed, legs up on the wall, now I’ve got a week off, I’m not hearing anything. He says, it took me five minutes. Five minutes and I already started itching. Something here isn’t right—you can’t, I’m not like that. And that’s roughly the reality of the power of disputes, and that’s the—well, anyway. So we talked a bit about the development of dispute, we saw that indeed at least the mechanism of how dispute came into being really was some kind of mechanism of forgetfulness, or of the fact that they did not sufficiently attend to their teachers. But even mechanisms that initially point to a problem can produce positive results—that is, that can happen. And in this case this result also has positive aspects. And then I spoke a bit about the historical development of dispute, through Pirkei Avot: Moses received the Torah from Sinai and transmitted it to Joshua, Joshua to the elders, the elders to the prophets, the prophets transmitted it to the Men of the Great Assembly. “They said three things.” “Shimon the Righteous was among the last survivors of the Men of the Great Assembly; he would say”—and I asked, if those before him didn’t say things? And the answer is no, they didn’t say things. Meaning, people began to say Torah in the Second Temple period, from Shimon the Righteous. And this was an innovation—that Torah could come out of human beings. Meaning that something a person says, thinks and says, suddenly becomes Torah. Until that period, the consciousness was—and I said that this was not really the reality, but the consciousness was the consciousness of a hollow pipe. Meaning that basically you’re supposed to pass on the Torah: you received it from Moses—what can one born of woman even contribute among us, so to speak? What can you possibly do with Torah? Take what you received, pass the baton onward. Your role is to be as clean as possible and as transparent as possible and to pass on the Torah as precisely as possible. At a certain stage, the students of Hillel and Shammai did not sufficiently attend to their teachers—that’s already the end of the Second Temple. They no longer sufficiently attended to their teachers, and then disputes begin to develop, disputes that are not decided. I spoke about this before too—these are disputes that were not resolved. The two Yoseis—that’s already in the Greek period—that’s the first dispute, but it intensified and became fixed in the period of the two houses, the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel, that’s already close to the destruction and after the destruction. The two Yoseis disagreed? Yes, Mishnah in Chagigah, page 16. Rashi there writes—it’s a Mishnah in the Jerusalem Talmud that he brings—Rashi there writes that this is the first dispute in the Oral Torah. The Sages say about the Greeks that they darkened the eyes of Israel. What does that mean? That’s the “they did not sufficiently attend to their teachers.” I think, again, when we look at this through our eyes today, Greek wisdom—actually reason, the use of reason—is what did the job. Because once you use your own reason and people begin to interpret and explain what they think and what they don’t think, disputes arise, because we have different opinions. And as long as you don’t allow yourself to be involved, and you only pass it from your rabbi to your student, then naturally disputes don’t arise, and if they do, then you check who is the more reliable transmitter. It isn’t a discussion of who is right, but rather the question of who is the more reliable transmitter, and you decide that this is the correct tradition and pass it on. Tradition is binding, not “more correct,” and you pass it on. In the period of the students of Hillel and Shammai, suddenly something was created—that wisdom, the encounter with Greek wisdom, that was already later, but the encounter with Greek wisdom essentially created what we call the phenomenon of the Oral Torah, what today we call the Oral Torah. The concepts maybe came from Sinai that way, but what we know today is really a very late product. And therefore disputes are also created, because human beings begin to be involved in interpreting Torah, in creating Torah. So it begins with Shimon the Righteous, takes shape through the two Yoseis, and reaches the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel throughout the Second Temple period.

[Speaker C] And the encounter and confrontation with Greek wisdom is also connected to this, that it definitely could be.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And what “they darkened the eyes of Israel” means, this concept that the whole thing deeply destabilizes everything—so I also spoke last time about the crisis that took place in the period of the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai, where the Jerusalem Talmud says they were killing one another. There are very pastoral descriptions that they didn’t refrain from marrying one another and so on, but there are also less pastoral descriptions that they—

[Speaker C] Both and both.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? Yes, נכון, they married one another and afterwards killed their brothers-in-law. So either they killed one another, or at least their people. And this thing is, again, “killed” could be only metaphorical; I don’t know if it’s a factual description. But clearly it comes to tell you that there was some conflict here of high intensity, as they call it. And I think the reason for this really is the emergence of the state of dispute, this new state of dispute—not differences of opinion where people talk a little, clarify things, and close the matter, but two schools that cannot reach a decision. As the Talmud in Eruvin says, they disagreed—the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel disagreed for two and a half years and couldn’t arrive at an agreed decision. That gives a feeling that the whole structure is being shaken. Basically it means that Torah splits and becomes two Torahs, and the next stage will be four and ten and a hundred, and then basically you can close up shop. And therefore the feeling is that Greek wisdom, which darkens the eyes of Israel, which brings human beings into Torah, Torah into human beings, creates disputes and in that way disintegrates the whole enterprise from within. And then there was a very hard war, expressed in the fact that they killed one another, against this phenomenon, and that is part of this war. And that really is the war against Greek wisdom and against Hellenism in general. Beyond idolatry there was also a war against Greek wisdom. But in retrospect, suddenly some conception appears that seems completely opposite, one hundred and eighty degrees. “The beauty of Yefet in the tents of Shem,” the Talmud in Megillah. And suddenly you see there’s something there—the Greeks receive a better status than any other culture or any other gentile, and suddenly this thing is turned into some kind of ideal, something positive, something one can learn from. And that’s the same process I’m talking about here. Because what happened—and I spoke about this a bit at the end of last time—around this era of the first generation of Yavneh, of Yohanan ben Zakkai, who “requested Yavneh and its sages,” establishes Yavneh. The Sanhedrin moves there from Jerusalem to Yavneh, the destruction takes place. He was a disciple of the disciples of Hillel and Shammai, Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai. And then the first generation of Yavneh is Rabbi Eliezer the Great, Eliezer ben Hyrcanus, and Rabban Gamliel, who were brothers-in-law. Rabban Gamliel was the Nasi, the president; Rabbi Eliezer was also there in a very senior position. They were the elders of that generation, the first generation of Yavneh. And they tried to fight the phenomenon of dispute by imposing authority by force. What doesn’t work with force works with even more force. Very often that’s a reaction that also happens among us in many contexts. You see a phenomenon that is new and threatens you, and you entrench yourself even more deeply in your current conception, in your conception of authority. In the conception that I am not prepared to hear opinions that don’t have some ancient source, that don’t convey information to me but rather express a position. They bring, they convey information rather than express a position. What do I care about your positions? Tell me what the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Moses at Sinai—that’s what interests me. I’m not interested in what you say. And therefore Rabban Gamliel and Rabbi Eliezer were authoritarian, traditionalist, and tried to impose the traditionalist conception by force as part of that same war against the spreading phenomenon of dispute, against the disintegration of the Torah society and the Torah study hall. The revolution of that day in Yavneh, which I spoke about a bit, is the internalization that this doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. Meaning, the phenomenon of dispute is too deep—we’re no longer there. We’re not there, we’ve already passed the point of no return. At this point there are different positions. If you try to fight that, we’ll simply kill one another; nothing will come out of it. You won’t save national unity or the unity of the study hall that way. And then there was an enormous revolution, and this is the revolution around which all these stories revolve, which today I’ll talk about a bit. The Oven of Akhnai and the removal of Rabban Gamliel and all the conflict with Rabbi Yehoshua. It’s all a war of authority versus the rebellious students. Rabban Gamliel and Rabbi Eliezer versus the rebellious students. Rabbi Yehoshua is a colleague-disciple, not really a disciple—he’s a colleague—but this second generation, these are the students. The war of the authoritarians or traditionalists against the autonomists. Against those who say one should act according to what I think. And these autonomists are coming to solve the same problem. They too are coming to deal with this phenomenon of dispute, only they say that solving the phenomenon of dispute is not simply to shoot harder, but rather to solve the phenomenon of dispute by recognizing it as an existing phenomenon, and maybe even a positive one. In time it became positive, not only de facto that it exists. Stages that many things go through—

[Speaker D] first you recognize it

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] de facto and understand that it already exists, there’s nothing to fight, and suddenly you discover that actually it can even be positive. Not only that you have to recognize it and be realistic. And this is the process that the attitude toward dispute basically goes through. And then this revolution happens in the first generation of Yavneh: they depose Rabban Gamliel, put Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah in his place, and the conception takes over that has basically accompanied us until today. This conception that sees dispute as something very positive, even ideal in a certain sense. You see multiplicity of opinions: these and those are the words of the living God, words of those who declare impure, words of those who declare pure. We read a bit of the Talmud in Chagigah; we’ll see it today a bit more in the lesson. And this is suddenly that great revolution, in which dispute becomes the very flesh of the study hall. Meaning, today if you say to people that you have something against dispute, you’re among the truly astonishing. And it’s not accepted—meaning, it can’t be, it’s just not logical.

[Speaker F] Also, with the House of Hillel—after all, in the end the House of Hillel would cite the words of the House of Shammai before their own words and would establish their own words. Meaning that even the House of Hillel in their time already held that this is a process, a continuous process.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We talked about this last time too. Obviously this doesn’t happen as a jump from black to white; almost no revolution happens that way. Rather, Rav Yitzchak once said there are two kinds of revolutions. There’s a revolution like in Russia, where they chop off the czar’s head and put someone else in his place—the simplest thing there is. And there’s a revolution like in England: they take the king, put him in a gold-and-glass display case, give him billions of pounds, and take away all his authority. Meaning, everything, just so he won’t bother us. So he says that the Chief Rabbinate is the revolution of the British kind. Meaning, they give them splendid robes and state ceremonies and tell them: don’t bother us, don’t speak, and don’t interfere in anything. So in that sense here too there was some kind of revolution—actually this one was even a bit Russian, this revolution here. Meaning, there was a rebellion here, they deposed the president; among Torah scholars that’s something pretty violent. Meaning, there was a harsh rebellion here, not simple. But it was a process. And then in the end, today we already live within this ethos and it’s already become fixed, so it looks self-evident to us. But it is very far from self-evident. Think about many processes—the process of Hasidism, the process of opening up to external wisdoms, to external values. All of these go through exactly the same process. Meaning, at first it threatens you, then you go to all-out war against it, then in practice you compromise with it, you say de facto there’s nothing to do, it’s here, you can’t fight it, it’s stronger than us. And then suddenly it turns into an ideology, it suddenly becomes something that from the outset is very positive and desirable and has very good things in it. Meaning, many of these processes in which we digest external ideas or new ideas into ourselves go through these three stages: the war against it, the compromise against our will, and the idealization—that is, in the end it suddenly becomes a value. Now about this too, I think I once spoke, that all kinds of original, charismatic rabbis really go through a very interesting process that is somewhat parallel to this process. Just an association I’m remembering. Yes, like in Brisk they’re always telling you: what’s your tradition? Where does it come from in the tradition? What is their tradition? Their tradition is Rabbi Chaim from a hundred years ago, who invented the wheel. Meaning, don’t ask, because as far as they’re concerned Rabbi Chaim is from Sinai. Meaning, Moses received the Torah from Sinai and transmitted it to Rabbi Chaim. There’s nothing before that. They don’t grasp that Rabbi Chaim was a revolution ex nihilo, but for them it’s the tradition from time immemorial. And those students are the same—if you come and ask someone, where is your tradition from? Which Torah scholars did you attend? And by the way, those questions always come from a place that has no tradition. Always. A place that has tradition is calmer, by definition not pressured. And one who fights is usually fighting himself. When you go to all-out war against a phenomenon, it’s because it also sits inside you. A rule with almost no exception: it’s always like that. All those who are extreme in some area—in beliefs, opinions, modesty, whatever, all kinds of areas where they have some idée fixe—something inside them in that area is problematic. They’re fighting with themselves, not fighting outside. And those who fight for tradition and for the idea that one must not invent things and so on—those are usually the biggest inventors. So that’s how it is, that’s how it works. And the people who actually have a tradition and are calm, they can also hear other things. They are not insecure by definition—they know, and they are not panicked. They may not accept the new things, but they won’t fight them. Fine, they’re calm, they’re not frightened, they’re not fighting what’s inside them. Okay, it’s an interesting thing, you can see it in many places. In any event, this is the process that the attitude to tradition undergoes, and basically this whole revolution is a revolution of dispute—about tradition, basically both of them. And this revolution is a revolution from one state to another, both of which become like a phenomenon. And the phenomenon of dispute, which in the end turns out to be impossible to fight, impossible to defeat, and therefore if you can’t beat them, join them. Meaning, that’s basically the first stage, and then once you’ve joined, suddenly you’ve got the cognitive dissonance, right? So suddenly it becomes ideal—you can’t imagine it otherwise. And then try opposing this new conception. Does it have a tradition? What do you mean, tradition? You were just born, you didn’t come from nowhere. Yes, but now it’s already become, for you, something that seems like it couldn’t be any other way. What do you mean, someone who says otherwise—do you have a tradition? And then you already start attacking him, as it were. So that’s the discussion there, and as a result they depose Rabban Gamliel, excommunicate Rabbi Eliezer. At the same time Rabban Gamliel does return; Rabbi Eliezer remains under excommunication until the day of his death. And in the end—and I’ll get to this later today—there’s Rabbi Akiva, who creates some kind of mediation here between the two conceptions, and I think our ethos today is a kind of middle ethos. That’s Rabbi Akiva, not Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah. But I’ll get to that today in stages. I also copied some pages here—there won’t be one for everyone, but maybe for every—

[Speaker C] two or—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] more than every two. Whoever can share, please. There are two sides to the page here. I copied these Talmudic passages that I mentioned last time; I wanted you to see them inside. I think this really is—and I said it’s a collection of stories with enormous literary power. I mean, it’s hard to miss the connection between them before even reading them, even before asking whether there really is a connection between the stories. What is unique about them is their intensity, the tension that accompanies them and the narrative power that accompanies them. It’s very clear that somehow they revolve around the same issue. And when you look inside, you see that they really do reflect a struggle around that same point that I described here. I also already said last time that the basic idea comes from a book by Menachem Fisch, Da’at Chokhmah, Tel Aviv University Press. I expanded it a bit, but that’s the basic idea for the whole story. The Talmud in Berakhot—that’s the first source you have. The Talmud in Berakhot—first I described the framework, now I want to plant it in the actual passages. Let’s see how this thing worked. “The sages taught: It happened that a certain student came before Rabbi Yehoshua.” Notice the characters—the characters are the same in all the stories. Rabbi Eliezer, Rabbi Yehoshua, Rabban Gamliel, later Rabbi Akiva—this is the first and second generation of Yavneh. Okay? The students of Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai and their students, more or less. “He came before Rabbi Yehoshua and said to him: Is the evening prayer optional or obligatory? He said to him: Optional. He came before Rabban Gamliel and said to him: Is the evening prayer optional or obligatory? He said to him: Obligatory.” This student is an instigator—that student is Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai. “He said to him: But Rabbi Yehoshua told me it is optional.” Yes, a manipulative move. “He said to him: Wait until the shield-bearers enter the study hall.” And this study hall—I remind you that Rabban Gamliel’s study hall, we already know, was a restricted study hall. Whoever is not inwardly as he is outwardly does not enter this study hall. All right? So he says, wait until all my people come in, and then they’ll explain to you who’s right. Fine, I can guess what all of Rabban Gamliel’s people will say. “The questioner stood and asked: Is the evening prayer optional or obligatory? Rabban Gamliel said to him: Obligatory. Rabban Gamliel said to the sages”—notice this—“Is there anyone who disputes this matter?” It’s hard to miss the threatening tone, right? Meaning, is there someone here from the group—if you want to leave the study hall, just say so. Meaning, is there someone here who disagrees in this matter? Rabban Gamliel was the president of the Sanhedrin; he had authority not only in Torah but also formal authority, an official position.

[Speaker C] On that famous day when someone disagreed with him… huh? On that famous day when someone disagreed… like Khrushchev famously, where someone disagreed… or Stalin got up at that moment and asked—but after an hour he roars loudly: Who asked that question? The entire audience, seventeen hundred people, freezes in place, terrified, terrified. Now you understand?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “Rabban Gamliel said to them: Obligatory. Rabban Gamliel said to the sages: Is there anyone who disputes this matter? Rabbi Yehoshua said to him: No.” Rabbi Yehoshua, who above had said he disagreed with him, said to him: “No.” Yes, exactly like Khrushchev. “He said to him: But didn’t they tell me in your name that it is optional?” Rabban Gamliel said: I caught you red-handed. You think you can pull something over on me? Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai already told me that you disagreed with me. And notice how Rabban Gamliel reacts to the fact that someone disagreed with him. As I said, Rabban Gamliel and Rabbi Eliezer are the people who hold authority in their hands. Rabban Gamliel said to him—he continues speaking here—“Yehoshua, stand on your feet and let them testify against you.” Rabbi Yehoshua stood on his feet and said: “If I were alive and he dead, the living could deny the dead. But now that I am alive and he is alive, how can the living deny the living?” “Rabban Gamliel was sitting and teaching, while Rabbi Yehoshua stood on his feet.” He made him remain standing. Yes, he told him: stand. So Rabbi Yehoshua is standing. The elders of the Tannaim, yes? The elders of that generation. He made him stand there in the study hall like a student in a classroom. Yes, he kept him standing on his feet while they were studying that day’s passages, teaching the—

[Speaker B] the topic of Yom Kippur.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, yes, yes, the same thing, we’ll see in a moment. Rabban Gamliel was sitting and teaching, and Rabbi Yehoshua was standing on his feet. Until all the people began murmuring and said to Hutzpit the translator, “Stop. Stop translating the words of Rabban Gamliel.” And he stopped. A revolt. They said to Hutzpit the translator: we don’t want to hear him anymore because of the way he treats Rabbi Yehoshua. He stopped. They said: how much longer is he going to keep causing him pain? How much can you torment Rabbi Yehoshua? Fine, so he disagreed with you. So what? Notice, the argument is precisely over the question whether one may disagree with the authority of the head of the Sanhedrin. The argument is over whether there is room to express positions, okay? Not the question whether the evening prayer is optional or obligatory—that’s not the point. That was the channel through which the real point peeked out. Is it permitted to disagree? Is there legitimacy to express a position based on the fact that you think differently? What do you mean, you think differently? I’m telling you what the truth is, and that’s it. Stand on your feet, that’s all. On Rosh Hashanah last year he caused him pain—that’s exactly Rabbi Yehoshua, whom he made stand as a test. In Bekhorot, in the story of Rabbi Tzadok, he caused him pain; here too he caused him pain. Come, let’s remove him. “Let’s remove him” has a double meaning: both remove him from office and get past him, bypass him. Whom shall we appoint? Who will we put in his place? In place of Rabban Gamliel? This is a rebellion, a putsch. In other words, they throw Rabban Gamliel out of the presidency of the Sanhedrin. There had never been such a thing in history, at least in the history known to us. You have to understand, this is a story of enormous force. Someone should write a book about it or make a film about it to understand it—I think making a movie about it would be a guaranteed bestseller. Really. These are very, very powerful events. If you manage to enter that hazy atmosphere that prevailed until that day. Well okay, there are disputes, and they argue with each other, no big deal. We live inside the consciousness that developed after this revolution. But think what came before, and what it means what they are doing here. The head of the Sanhedrin says to them: friends, who told you this is the truth? And that insolent fellow should stand there on his feet and not sit until I say so. And the group gets up, the students, who are younger than both of them. Rabbi Yehoshua and Rabban Gamliel were among the elders of that generation. All the students get up and say: we’re not willing to accept this anymore. We are removing Rabban Gamliel from his office, and we are not willing to accept this ongoing abuse of Rabbi Yehoshua. And then they begin to figure out whom to put in his place. Shall we appoint Rabbi Yehoshua? He’s personally involved. It looks bad, it looks as if we’re acting in his name, and he actually staged a provocation here in order to depose Rabban Gamliel and come in his place. Conflict of interest, yes, exactly. Shall we appoint Rabbi Akiva? Perhaps he’ll punish him, because he has no ancestral merit. Rabbi Akiva, after all, was the son of converts, he has no ancestral merit, so if Rabban Gamliel decides to get angry at him, he doesn’t have the protections that ancestral merit gives. Rather, let us appoint Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya, because he is wise, and rich, and tenth from Ezra. Yes, so he has all the protections, he has clear social standing—Rabban Gamliel won’t be able to do anything to him. He is wise, so if someone challenges him he can answer; he is rich, so if he needs to go serve at the emperor’s court he too can go and serve; and he is tenth from Ezra, so he has ancestral merit and Rabban Gamliel cannot punish him. They came and said to him: would it be pleasing to the master to become head of the academy? They turned to Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya and said to him: come be the head of the yeshiva. In those days, head of the yeshiva meant head of the Sanhedrin; the academy and the Sanhedrin were the same institution. He said to them: I’ll go and consult with the members of my household. Yes, I’ll go consult the family—meaning, with my wife, basically. The authorities, as they say. He went and consulted his wife. Yes, he consulted his wife. She said to him: perhaps they’ll remove you too? Meaning, they’ll remove you as they removed Rabban Gamliel. He said to her: let a person use one day a precious goblet, and tomorrow let it break. In other words, better to use a precious cup for one day and then let it break. We’re sitting in the chair. She said to him: you have no white hair. Never mind, in short there was some negotiation between them. That’s what lies behind the saying, “I am like a man of seventy years, though not actually seventy years old.” Yes, that’s the point—that white hairs appeared for him. Yes, what everyone knows from the Passover Haggadah. He was actually young, after all, and he needed somehow to acquire that dignified appearance, that status of an elder, so some miracle happened for him. It was taught: on that day they removed the doorkeeper and permission was given to the students to enter. This is what I mentioned earlier—that Rabban Gamliel used to proclaim and say: any student whose inside is not like his outside may not enter the study hall. That day, many benches were added. Meaning, when Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya came in and replaced Rabban Gamliel as head, benches were added in the study hall. Why? So I explained this—I think I mentioned it last time. Rabban Gamliel selected the people. Earlier I presented it a bit maliciously, as though he chose his own loyalists, but I don’t think that’s right. Rather, “one whose inside is not like his outside.” Meaning, he wanted people whom one could trust to mean what they said. Not in the sense that they were wise, but that they were reliable. Because for him, Torah, the transmission of Torah, is a hollow conduit. I want to know that if someone tells me something in the name of his teacher, then that’s really what it is. So whoever’s inside is not like his outside shouldn’t come in here. All right? Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya came in after they deposed Rabban Gamliel. What happened? Torah gets turned upside down. Now Torah is no longer passed through hollow conduits; now Torah is the Torah of human beings, Torah of give-and-take, Torah of reasoning, Torah that isn’t just something being transmitted. So if that’s the case, why should I care whether people sit here whose inside is not like their outside? As long as they say what they say, we will assess it on its own merits. Why should I care whether he’s reliable or not? He doesn’t merely have to transmit information to me, where everything depends on whether I believe him or not. Rather, I examine the claims themselves. If he says a good argument, I’ll accept it even if he’s wicked and unreliable—what do I care? In the end, what he says will be examined on its own merits, examined substantively. And therefore after Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya entered, benches multiplied in the study hall, because he did not carry out the selection that Rabban Gamliel had carried out. It was taught—and by the way this reminds me of the story about Hillel, Shemaya, and Avtalyon, when he couldn’t get into the study hall and froze there in the snow above the skylight—that’s the same issue. Meaning, people didn’t enter the study hall if they weren’t wealthy, distinguished, the kind of people who belonged to the relevant class—then they didn’t enter the study hall. And that changes here; that’s part of the same revolution, this democratization. Rabbi Yohanan said: Abba Yosef ben Dostai and the Sages disagreed about it. One said four hundred benches were added, and one said seven hundred benches. Hundreds of benches were added in the study hall. Rabban Gamliel became distressed. So Rabban Gamliel saw this, and suddenly he stood before a mirror. Meaning, he saw how many people, how many Torah scholars, he had prevented from participating in Torah discourse. He had not let them enter the study hall; their views had not been heard. He became distressed because he understood his mistake. And that’s the point. Then he said: perhaps, God forbid, I withheld Torah from Israel? They showed him in a dream white jugs full of ashes, but that wasn’t really so—rather, it was only to put his mind at ease that they showed him this. Meaning, in the end they comforted him that it was okay; this had been his approach. It was taught: tractate Eduyot was taught on that day. Tractate Eduyot is a special tractate in the Talmud, because it isn’t about one subject; it’s a tractate where all kinds of people come and bring testimonies about what they heard from this rabbi, from that rabbi, there is give-and-take with others, and often these are questions not connected to the same subject. And the entire tractate Eduyot was taught on that day. Why? Because as long as Rabban Gamliel was there, anything others said that did not pass through his tradition was not even on the table; there was no point deciding who was right—I’m right, meaning, that’s all. And the moment Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya replaced him, everyone entered the study hall, more opinions were heard, and then notice—we continue dealing with the phenomenon of dispute. How does Rabban Gamliel deal with it? Like Stalin. Meaning, whoever disagrees with me stays outside, and that’s that—no problem, we solved the dispute. And Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya deals with dispute differently. Let’s bring them into the study hall, let’s debate, let’s try to persuade one another, let’s hear the arguments, let’s vote and make decisions. And until Rabban Gamliel was removed from office, they couldn’t resolve the disputes; that’s how those opposing schools arose that couldn’t reach common ground—there was no discourse. After Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya entered in his place, they succeeded in resolving all the disputes that had remained open until that time, and that is tractate Eduyot. Tractate Eduyot is the tractate in which all the disputes left unresolved during the era of Rabban Gamliel are decided.

[Speaker E] What?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Those testimonies are not testimonies from Sinai; they are testimonies about lines of reasoning—my teacher said this, and I said this, and these arguments and those arguments—and in the end we decide. Rather, the testimonies bring the various positions into the study hall. Now there had to be testimonies already, because not all the people were still alive, and this had been a long-standing approach that was unwilling to accept the other opinion. So some of these things are our own views, some are testimonies about other views. Let’s bring everything, bring all the traditions, everything. Now is the time to clarify the matter, because Rabban Gamliel is gone. Okay? And then the Talmud continues: every place where we say “on that day,” that was that day. Every place in the Talmud where it says “on that day,” it was that same day when they deposed Rabban Gamliel and put Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya in his place. And as I already said, this isn’t a day of twenty-four hours; it means around that event, those events. And there was no Jewish law hanging in the study hall that they did not explain. Suddenly they resolved all the disputes. That reveals the root of the argument, of the intensity that was here. It’s not an argument about whether the evening prayer is optional. It’s not even an argument about manners or proper treatment of a colleague. That’s not the point. The point is: how do we deal with the phenomenon of dispute? Rabban Gamliel’s method collapsed, and the sages there understood that if they kept letting him lord it over the others, all of us were finished. Nothing would remain of it. And therefore there was no choice—they did something very difficult. He had been the teacher of them all, and they simply deposed him because they said: this man will destroy all of us. And it is very hard to do such a thing. And therefore there was no Jewish law they did not explain. They settled all the laws. How did they settle them? What, did the traditions suddenly become clarified? Did they bring archaeologists to determine which tradition was authentic and which wasn’t? No. They settled it through debate.

[Speaker D] But they settled it—weren’t there still things that remained disputed?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It may be there were and it may be there weren’t, I don’t know. But what needed to be settled, they settled, as I said before. And there may be things that don’t need to be settled too. And even Rabban Gamliel did not absent himself from the study hall for even one hour. Rabban Gamliel did not leave the study hall after they deposed him; he remained there under the leadership of Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya, became a student. In other words, Rabban Gamliel undergoes a process of repentance; on the spot he understood that he had erred, he conceded to the opinion of his students, and he sat as one of the students on the students’ benches before Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya. For we learned: on that day, Judah the Ammonite convert came before them in the study hall and said to them: may I enter the congregation? Rabban Gamliel said to him: you are forbidden to enter the congregation. “An Ammonite or a Moabite shall not enter the congregation of the Lord.” Rabbi Yehoshua said to him: you are permitted to enter the congregation. Now Rabbi Yehoshua openly disagrees with Rabban Gamliel, because now Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya is the head, okay? Rabban Gamliel said to him: but has it not already been said, “An Ammonite and a Moabite shall not enter the congregation of the Lord”? Rabban Gamliel doesn’t make him stand up and start scolding him—within thirty seconds he’d have taken down the whole building. He starts discussing with him, brings proofs, verses, arguments—he accepted the rules of the game. Meaning, there is a dissenting opinion here; I still hold to my own view, but I debate with him, I bring proofs, let’s see who is right. Rabbi Yehoshua said to him: do Ammon and Moab still dwell in their places? Sennacherib king of Assyria already came and mixed up all the nations, as it is said: “I removed the borders of peoples and plundered their treasures…” Never mind; on that basis, whoever separates is presumed to come from the majority—that’s how he answered him. Rabban Gamliel said to him: but has it not already been said, “Afterward I will restore the captivity of the children of Ammon”? So they already returned. Rabbi Yehoshua said to him: but has it not already been said, “I will restore the captivity of My people Israel”—and they have still not returned. Immediately they permitted him to enter the congregation. They accepted Rabbi Yehoshua’s opinion, of course. That’s poetic justice. Meaning, even when there was an argument, it could still have turned out that Rabban Gamliel was right because of his reasons—not because of his authority—but here they accepted Rabbi Yehoshua’s opinion. Rabban Gamliel said: since this is so, now I understand that Rabbi Yehoshua was right in the method. More than that: once I desired to give reasons too and started listening to him, it became clear that he was also right—not only that it’s legitimate to speak, but he was also right. But who knows—perhaps in all the previous disputes I had with him, if I had listened to him, it would have become clear that he was right there too. If so, I will go and appease Rabbi Yehoshua. Rabban Gamliel continues his process of repentance. It’s an amazing story in my eyes, really—this story is amazing, incredible drama. So he goes to appease Rabbi Yehoshua after everything he did to him. When he came to his house, he saw the walls of the house were blackened. Again, the Happy Prince—remember the Happy Prince. He comes to his house and sees that his walls are black. Rabbi Yehoshua was a very poor man. He said to him: from the walls of your house it’s evident that you are a charcoal maker. He works with charcoal, he makes his living from that, he had no money. Rabban Gamliel is the head, he’s in the palace, he doesn’t see those outside—how they live and what troubles they have and everything—just like the Happy Prince. Rabbi Yehoshua said to him: woe to the generation whose leader you are, for you do not know the suffering of Torah scholars—how they earn a living and how they are sustained. You’re the head, you have plenty of money, you live properly, you are the son of a head, it’s an entire dynasty of leadership—you don’t see how we live. He said to him: I have answered you; forgive me. Fine, I got it, I understood, I was wrong, I’m repenting—so forgive me. Why do you keep being angry? It seems he made him go through this ordeal as part of the repentance process. He had been so angry at him, but he thought the man had to go through a full process of repentance, and only then would he forgive him—but not so quickly. Meaning, the man has to understand the depth of the mistake, internalize the depth of the mistake. He paid no attention to him. He would not agree to forgive him. “Do it for the honor of my father.” Rabban Gamliel says: after all I come from a dynasty of heads of the Sanhedrin; I have ancestral merit. Remember the ancestral merit they were afraid Rabban Gamliel would use to punish anyone who lacked it? Now Rabban Gamliel is asking for ancestral merit. There are lots and lots of interesting narrative plays in this story. Rabban Gamliel asks, by ancestral merit, that Rabbi Yehoshua forgive him. Okay. He was appeased—he accepted it because of ancestral merit, not because of you I forgive you, but because of ancestral merit, not because of you. Rabbi Yehoshua insisted there; he didn’t give in so quickly. They said: who will go and tell the sages? Who will go and tell the sages that Rabbi Yehoshua has been appeased and everything is fine and peace has returned? You have to remember: Rabbi Yehoshua was not the head, but his standing among the sages was top tier. Rabban Gamliel, Rabbi Eliezer, and Rabbi Yehoshua—those three elders. So there had been some dispute between two of the greatest sages of the generation; the students, the generation was split, and it was a real event when Rabbi Yehoshua forgave Rabban Gamliel. They said to a certain launderer. That launderer said to them: I’ll go. Rabbi Yehoshua sent to the study hall: he who is wearing the garment should continue to wear the garment, and he who is not wearing the garment should not say to him who is wearing it: take off your garment and I’ll wear it. Fine, never mind—in short, in the end they clarified it, Rabbi Yehoshua said he had been appeased, and they came to his door. They said: what shall we do now with Rabban Gamliel after he finally repented? He really was a Torah scholar. So shall we restore him to his place? But then what—remove Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya? We’ve already appointed him head. What do we do? Rather, Rabban Gamliel will teach three Sabbaths, and Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya one Sabbath. After all, Rabban Gamliel was still more properly the head, were it not for the problems that caused his deposition. He will teach for three Sabbaths—yes, meaning weeks, week, week, week, three, not “week week”—and Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya one Sabbath. And that is what the master said: “Whose Sabbath was it?” It was Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya’s. Meaning, now when elsewhere in the Talmud they ask “Whose Sabbath was it?” the meaning is: whose week was it today in Yavne? Who was teaching, Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya or Rabban Gamliel? Because they served there in rotation. That student was Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai. That’s what I mentioned before—the Talmud says in parentheses: just so you should know, that troublemaker who caused all this commotion was Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai. And by the way, it may be that Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai did it in order to sharpen the issue, to ultimately bring about everything that happened later. Meaning, he did it not merely to stir up conflict, but because he understood they were giving in to Rabban Gamliel, and he wanted to surface the problem so it would be solved and not continue to be whitewashed. Now against this background it’s interesting to see the story of the oven of Akhnai. Again, let’s do it briefly: what is Akhnai? They cut it into segments and put sand between each segment of the oven. There the question was the impurity status of a segmented oven. Rabbi Eliezer declares it pure, and the sages declare it impure. Again we are with Rabbi Eliezer, same period, same people, first generation of Yavne. And this is the oven of Akhnai. What is Akhnai? Rav Yehuda said that Shmuel said: because they surrounded it with arguments like a snake and declared it impure. It was taught: on that day—what does “on that day” mean? We already know, right? Every “on that day” was that day. “That day” is the day from the previous story, when they replaced Rabban Gamliel with Rabbi Elazar; it’s the same story. This story too belongs to that same period, even though it’s not explicitly written anywhere, but it’s pretty clear. The sages who appear are the same sages. It says “on that day,” “that day”—it’s clear that this is really exactly the same matter. It was taught: on that day Rabbi Eliezer answered with every argument in the world, and they did not accept them from him. He said to them: if the Jewish law is in accordance with me, let this carob tree prove it. The carob tree was uprooted from its place one hundred cubits, and some say four hundred cubits. They said to him: one does not bring proof from a carob tree. In short: you can bring signs and wonders on your own account—we want arguments. Don’t tell us stories about carob trees. He went back and said to them: if the Jewish law is in accordance with me, let the water channel prove it. The water channel flowed backward. All the signs took place. They said to him: one does not bring proof from a water channel. He went back and said to them: if the Jewish law is in accordance with me, let the walls of the study hall prove it. The walls of the study hall inclined to fall. Rabbi Yehoshua rebuked them and said to them: if Torah scholars defeat one another in Jewish law, what business is it of yours? They could not straighten up because of Rabbi Eliezer, and they could not fall because of Rabbi Yehoshua, and they still remain leaning. Rabbi Yehoshua says to them: look, we are debating in the study hall over words of Torah; you are just lumps of stone, you have no role in this give-and-take. What’s the argument? The same argument. Meaning, let us debate, he says to the walls of the study hall that are intervening in the story. So let us debate; we are talking about proofs. I’m not interested in a water channel, carob trees, and walls—we are talking about evidence. If he persuades us, we’ll accept it, but we are not accepting the water channel. Leave the magic outside; bring an argument. All right? Again, Rabbi Eliezer tried to prove that he was the authoritative one, that his inside was like his outside, and therefore he could enter through Rabban Gamliel’s doorway to the study hall; they belong to the other side. So he says to them: I am an authorized person, see, heaven testifies on my behalf. How? I perform miracles for you, you’ll see—how can you disagree with me? They say to him: you’re right, you are completely righteous, but you will not persuade us and we will not accept it. Because we are not speaking ad hominem, we are not talking about the person, we are talking about the issue itself. You see that this is exactly the same discussion as with Rabban Gamliel in the previous story? Exactly the same thing. No wonder it happened “on that day,” that same day—meaning those same events. Then he went back and said to them: if the Jewish law is in accordance with me, let heaven prove it. You want a more direct proof? Not just magic and miracles; God Himself will say it, not through messengers and all sorts of powers. A heavenly voice came forth and said: why are you disputing with Rabbi Eliezer, seeing that the Jewish law is in accordance with him everywhere? God Himself, in His own honor, informs us from heaven. Rabbi Yehoshua stood on his feet and said: “It is not in heaven.” It doesn’t help. Think of the frustration. Rabbi Eliezer says: what more could I possibly say? You prove through signs and wonders that you are the most righteous, the truest, heaven says the Jewish law is in accordance with you, and your students—or your colleague too, yes, Rabbi Yehoshua—don’t accept it. Impossible. Bring us arguments.

[Speaker D] This is the powerful story.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Bring arguments. If you bring arguments, we’ll be persuaded. But don’t tell us miracle stories. “It is not in heaven!” Rabbi Yirmiyah said: because the Torah was already given at Mount Sinai, we pay no attention to a heavenly voice. For in the Torah You already wrote at Mount Sinai, “incline after the majority.” Did Rabbi Eliezer write the Torah? The Holy One, blessed be He, did. They are arguing with God, not with Rabbi Eliezer. A heavenly voice came out and said that the Jewish law follows Rabbi Eliezer, so the sages are not speaking to Rabbi Eliezer, they are speaking to God. You stay there. It is not in heaven. In the Torah at Mount Sinai You already wrote, “incline after the majority.” Why are You arguing here now? You wrote “incline after the majority”; we have arguments, we are debating, whoever persuades—

[Speaker C] And afterward we’ll vote, “incline after the majority.” Rabbi Yirmiyah—that’s afterward, that’s Rabbi Yirmiyah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, here the name… Rabbi Natan found Elijah and said to him: what was the Holy One, blessed be He, doing at that hour? He said to him: He smiled, the Holy One, blessed be He, smiled and said: “My children have defeated Me, My children have defeated Me.” Again, this is aggadah, not historical documentation. But this aggadah comes to say what the meaning of that revolution in Yavne was. What was the argument about? What happened there? The argument was over the fact that Torah no longer belongs to God; Torah became the Torah of human beings. And therefore a heavenly voice comes out from heaven and God says: I am telling you what the Jewish law is, and they say: You stay in heaven. Torah is not the Torah of heaven; Torah is the Torah of human beings. That’s it, the hollow conduit is over. And then God says: “My children have defeated Me.” God, as it were, understands—meaning, confirms—that although the truth is with Him, not that the truth is with them, the truth is with Him, that is the correct law—but once there is a dispute, you need to decide it with your tools, not with traditional tools, not with tools of authority. That’s the point, that is the meaning of the revolution and its seal of approval. And this story—again, they invented the heavenly voice and all these stories—why? In order to instill this new ethos that says: it is not in heaven. It never happened, yes, that’s obvious. Rather what? They invented this story in order to express this idea of “it is not in heaven,” the idea that says we are not searching for what was said to Moses at Sinai. What was said to Moses at Sinai is already written in the Torah. From here on it is our interpretation with our reasoning, and we will debate until we are persuaded, or we will vote—“incline after the majority.” They said: on that day—notice, again “that day”—do you see the parallel to the previous story? They brought all the purity rulings that Rabbi Eliezer had declared and burned them in fire. Completely parallel to all the testimonies they brought on that day and the fact that they left nothing unexplained, yes? And they voted regarding him and blessed him. They burned all the items he had declared pure. His authority had declared them pure, but they didn’t agree. They burned everything—there’s no such thing, everything is impure, they ruled against him. And they “blessed” him—what does that mean? They excommunicated him, Rabbi Eliezer. Just as they removed Rabban Gamliel from office. Do you see? These stories are completely analogous—it’s the same point, the same sages, it’s all the same thing. Once you suddenly see it, you can’t miss it anymore. It’s almost the same story.

[Speaker E] And what were they to each other? Rabban Gamliel…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And they said: who will go and inform him? Now this isn’t simple. Who will go tell Rabbi Eliezer that he has been excommunicated? His students. They are all his students. They excommunicate him. Why do they excommunicate him? Again, because he thinks differently from them. And that’s the point. Why excommunicate him because he is mistaken in the laws of impurity? Rather, they excommunicate him because he does not accept the rules of the game. Because someone like that will destroy Torah. And if he insists and does not accept the new rules of the game, then excommunicate him. They went all the way; meaning, there are no compromises on this matter—just as they remove Rabban Gamliel from office. But still, he is the teacher of them all; who will go tell him? Not simple. Rabbi Akiva said to them: I will go. Lest an improper person go and inform him, and the result be that he destroys the whole world. Because Rabbi Eliezer’s spiritual power—after all, he had managed to turn water channels, topple trees, tilt the walls of the study hall—this man will destroy the whole world. Again, remember exactly like with Rabban Gamliel, when they ask who will go tell him, who will go replace him—only someone with ancestral merit, otherwise Rabban Gamliel would eliminate him. This story is exactly parallel. What did Rabbi Akiva do? He wore black and wrapped himself in black, and sat before him at a distance of four cubits. Rabbi Eliezer said to him: Akiva, why is today different from other days? What changed, that now all of a sudden you are dressed in black and sitting far away from me? For one under excommunication—yes, so he sits four cubits away from him; he is forbidden to approach him. He said to him: my teacher, it seems to me that the colleagues are keeping away from you. He said it gently, in soft wrapping: you are under excommunication. Okay? Look at the force of this story. He tore his garments and removed his shoes and slipped down and sat on the ground. Rabbi Eliezer’s eyes shed tears. The world was stricken: one-third in olives, one-third in wheat, and one-third in barley. Meaning, what they had feared really happened. He was about to destroy the world—that is, one-third of all the crops were lost. Again, these are of course narrative images, but it means there was a very serious crisis there. And some say even dough in women’s hands spoiled. It was taught: great was the calamity on that day—again “that day,” the theme returns here—that every place on which Rabbi Eliezer cast his eyes was burned. It was terrible. And even Rabban Gamliel—notice who suddenly appears here in the story—Rabban Gamliel, his brother-in-law, who had gone through that same process in the previous story. But what happened with Rabban Gamliel? Rabban Gamliel repented, understood he had erred, returned in repentance, sat in the study hall, and rotated with Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya. Here their paths diverge. Rabbi Eliezer does not yield until the day of his death. He does not repent; he believes in his way. And therefore he remained under excommunication until the day of his death, the Talmud says. Because he did not repent. He simply did not repent. Excommunicated. And even Rabban Gamliel was traveling in a ship, and a wave rose against him to drown him. “To us too, to drown him?” Even you, Brutus? Yes—meaning, Rabban Gamliel, you too, my brother-in-law? You joined them as well? I’ll drown you. Meaning, this is the same story—it is obviously in dialogue with the previous story. He was traveling in a ship and a wave rose against him. He said: it seems to me that this is only because of Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus. He stood on his feet and said: Master of the Universe, it is revealed and known before You that I did not do it for my own honor, nor for the honor of my father’s house, but for Your honor, so that disputes not multiply in Israel. Now this can be read in two ways. Rabban Gamliel might be explaining here his first approach: “so that disputes not multiply in Israel.” I didn’t do this in pursuit of honor; I did it because I was dealing with the phenomenon of dispute. I was mistaken, but my intention was good; I didn’t do it for honor. That’s one way to read it. Another possibility is to read it the opposite way: I repented, I joined Rabbi Eliezer’s students and I joined in Rabbi Eliezer’s excommunication too. But I didn’t do it for my honor; I did it because I understood the mistake that both of us had shared, and he refused to accept it, so I excommunicated him. I don’t know—you can interpret it this way or that way. The sea calmed from its rage, and then God saved Rabban Gamliel. Imma Shalom, the wife of Rabbi Eliezer, was the sister of Rabban Gamliel—his wife, Rabbi Eliezer’s wife, who was Rabban Gamliel’s sister. They were brothers-in-law, yes. From that incident onward she would not allow Rabbi Eliezer to fall on his face, yes, she did not let him say supplication, because otherwise he would do all sorts of inappropriate things there. That day was the New Moon, in short, around all this there was some kind of fear surrounding Rabbi Eliezer, who had been hurt by the whole matter. Now let’s move on: Talmud in Hagigah, turn to the next page. This Talmud in Hagigah is the same story, but this time from a different angle. The rabbis taught: there was an incident involving Rabbi Yohanan ben Beroka and Rabbi Elazar ben Hasma, or Hasma, who went to greet Rabbi Yehoshua in Peki’in. Notice the figures: Rabbi Yehoshua is sitting in Peki’in, Rabbi Eliezer is sitting in Lod. Rabbi Eliezer is excommunicated, and Rabbi Yehoshua is sitting in Peki’in, and of course he is the head of the victorious camp. So here the victorious camp—its formal head was Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya, but here the leader of the camp was Rabbi Yehoshua. What does he mean? You are coming from Yavne, where the Sanhedrin was. What novelty was taught there? What did Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya say? He wants to hear, to get a little satisfaction. We appointed Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya—tell me, what did Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya teach today? He is sitting in Peki’in, not in Yavne. And they come to visit him. He says to them: tell me, what’s going on in Yavne now after we appointed Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya? So the Talmud says: they said to him, we are your students and we drink of your waters. You tell us your innovations—are we supposed to innovate for you? We came to learn from you. He said to them: even so, the study hall cannot be without novelty. What is that? Again, you need to understand the background. “The study hall cannot be without novelty” means: friends, we won. There is room for innovation. Torah is not a hollow conduit. When a person innovates a new idea in Torah, it joins and becomes part of Torah. There is a Torah of human beings. There is no Torah without innovation. So now students can also innovate to the rabbi, not only the rabbi to the students. After all, what is he saying there? This is what we made the whole revolution for. So now you tell me you want to hear me? I want to hear you. Because I want your views. I’m not just transmitting Torah from Sinai to you. I also receive from you. Now we all sit around the same table. Meaning, everything… if you understand the background, every word here is read differently. Okay? And then look at the next sentence. “Whose Sabbath was it?” Well, here you really can’t miss the connection to the previous two stories, right? In the previous story the Talmud said “Whose Sabbath was it?” That’s what they say around the discussion of Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya and Rabban Gamliel. So he asks the students: whose Sabbath was it? Who gave the weekly teaching in Yavne? It was Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya’s Sabbath. Not Rabban Gamliel—Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya, the younger one. And what was the aggadah about? Leave me the laws—tell me what the aggadah was. Meaning, what homiletic teaching did he say? They said to him: on the section of Hakhel. He taught us the section of Hakhel. And what did he expound on it? “Assemble the people: the men, the women, and the children.” If men come to learn and women come to hear, why do the children come? To give reward to those who bring them. Again, this is no accident, of course. Rather what? Everyone comes to learn Torah. The children, the women, everyone. It’s over, the policy of Rabban Gamliel is over—that whoever’s inside is not like his outside may not enter, whoever isn’t wealthy enough may not enter. Everyone enters. Men, women, and children. It all revolves around this point; these are not just innocent homilies. Now he said to them: you had a precious pearl in your hands and you tried to hide it from me? No, I’ve already found more brilliant teachings than that. What’s the great excitement? The excitement is about the content of the teaching, not its brilliance. Meaning: ah, we really did win. In other words, the study hall really does look different. Everyone enters. So this precious pearl—you wanted to hide it from me? And he further expounded—and now Rabbi Yehoshua answers them with a homily of his own. They wanted to hear him, so come hear. And he further expounded—I think. Ah, and see, maybe not. I don’t know. Really it can be understood either way, yes. That “further” maybe not. “You have affirmed the Lord today, and the Lord has affirmed you today.” The Holy One, blessed be He, said to Israel: you made Me a single entity in the world, and I will make you a single entity in the world. What does that mean? You have many opinions. One Torah? God says yes. I make you one entity in the world despite the many opinions. It all revolves around the same matter. All right? You made Me one entity in the world, as it is written: “Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.” And I will make you one entity in the world, as it is said: “And who is like Your people Israel, one nation on earth.” Again the same story. And he too opened and expounded—this is Rabbi Yehoshua. That was probably still Rabbi Elazar. Now “and he too opened and expounded” enthusiastically—and notice what he says. The same thing. Once you see the background, you understand the whole story. Every word is exactly in place. “The words of the sages are like goads, and like well-planted nails, given by one shepherd to the masters of assemblies.” This is that “one entity in the world.” All the opinions and all the camps and all this—that’s perfectly fine. Dispute is ideal from the outset. That’s what Rabbi Yehoshua says. This is not a de facto acknowledgment, not “well, what can you do, if you can’t beat them, join them.” No, it is ideal from the outset. We are introducing here an ideal conception of the alternative, not surrendering to the spirit of the times. And that’s what he is expounding here now. Now he says, he expounds the verse word by word: why are words of Torah compared to a goad? To tell you: just as a goad directs the cow to its furrow in order to bring forth life to the world, so too the words of Torah direct those who study them from paths of death to paths of life. What does that mean? The Torah given at Sinai is not the Torah we study. It directs us to bring forth our own fruits. That is the Torah we study. A goad plows the land, and the land produces new fruits. Torah is not what was given to Moses at Sinai. What was given to Moses at Sinai is the infrastructure, the framework, that enables us to grow Torah anew. Now he continues poetically. He says: if a goad can be moved, then perhaps words of Torah can be moved? Scripture therefore says “nails”—nails, yes—“well planted like nails.” If a nail diminishes and does not increase, then perhaps words of Torah diminish and do not increase? Scripture therefore says “planted.” Just as a planting bears fruit and multiplies, so too words of Torah bear fruit and multiply. “Masters of assemblies”—these are Torah scholars who sit in many assemblies and engage in Torah. These declare impure and those declare pure. These forbid and those permit. These disqualify and those validate. Exactly, of course, the same theme, right? Lest a person say: how, then, am I to learn Torah from now on? What do we do? So there are two Torahs. That’s Rabban Gamliel, right? That’s why he fought this. Scripture therefore says: all of them were given by one shepherd. God turns them into one great unity, as Elazar ben Azarya told you, and now I’m completing that point. All the different opinions you hear were all given by one shepherd. This is one Torah. We engage in give-and-take, we persuade one another, and in the end we’ll arrive at one conclusion or another. And everything is fine; there is no need to panic over dispute. Dispute is just different faces of one Torah, different aspects of one Torah. One God gave them, one leader uttered them, from the mouth of the Lord of all deeds, blessed be He, as it is written: “And God spoke all these words.” You too, therefore, make your ear like a funnel. This is the new Yavnean methodology. Yes? Make your ear like a funnel and acquire for yourself an understanding heart to hear the words of those who declare impure and the words of those who declare pure, the words of those who forbid and the words of those who permit. Remember who is speaking here: Rabbi Yehoshua. The same one whom Rabban Gamliel did not allow to voice his words. He says to him: make your ear hear the words of these and the words of those, hear everyone. You, Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya, do not be like Stalin, who deposed the emperor and became emperor in his place. You went there so that there should not be an emperor. You sit there so that we may hear everyone, not so that they should hear you now instead of Rabban Gamliel. The words of those who forbid and the words of those who permit, the words of those who disqualify and the words of those who validate. In these words he said to them—Rabbi Yehoshua said to the two fellows who had come from Yavne: no generation is orphaned when Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya dwells in it. He was so happy that the whole thing had sunk in and the outlook had changed; the revolt succeeded. “And let them tell him directly?” Because of the incident that had happened. What does “and let them tell him directly” mean? Wait, I don’t remember exactly. Because of the incident that had happened.

[Speaker B] Maybe simply

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That they should tell him directly what happened there? Could be. Because of an incident that happened. What was the incident? Now listen, pay close attention. As it is taught: an incident involving Rabbi Yosi ben Dormaskit, who went to greet Rabbi Eliezer in Lod. Rabbi Eliezer, of course, not Rabbi אלעזר—there’s a textual error there. Rabbi Eliezer in Lod. Obviously not by chance, right? The first is Rabbi Yehoshua, who is sitting in Peki’in, and the second is the disputant opposite Rabbi Eliezer, who is sitting under excommunication in Lod. The same story that happened with Rabbi Yehoshua, when they came to him from Yavneh and he asked what happened there—that same story, its parallel, is now happening in Lod. Rabbi Yosi ben Dormaskit comes to Rabbi Eliezer in Lod, and he asks him the same question. He said to him: What new development was there today in the study hall? But of course he’s asking this with irony and bitterness: well, let’s hear your innovations. There are no innovations here—I know everything; you’re not going to teach me anything new. Rabbi Eliezer is a traditionalist, okay? Now look. He said to him: They counted and concluded that Ammon and Moab separate the poor man’s tithe in the Sabbatical year. There’s a dispute in the Talmud, a halakhic dispute, whether in the land of Ammon and Moab one is obligated to separate the poor man’s tithe in the Sabbatical year. He said to him: Yosi—Rabbi Eliezer says to his student, to Rabbi Yosi ben Dormaskit—stretch out your hand and receive your eyes. I’m going to blind you; stretch out your hands, you’ve lost your eyes. He stretched out his hands and received his eyes. He blinded him out of sheer anger. Rabbi Eliezer cried and said: “The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him, and His covenant, to make it known to them.” These are their innovations in Yavneh? Why didn’t they come ask me? I would have told them. They’re bandying arguments around, this opinion, that opinion. I know everything. Let them ask me and I’ll tell them. “The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him, and His covenant, to make it known to them”—I am the one who fears the Holy One Blessed be He, like all the proofs and the Oven of Akhnai, and “His covenant, to make it known to them”—the Torah is known to me, it was made known to me. I know everything. Let them ask me, I’ll tell them what the Jewish law is. What are they arguing over there for? He said to him: Go tell them—Rabbi Eliezer says to Rabbi Yosi ben Dormaskit—go back to those people in Yavneh and tell them: Do not be concerned about your count. There’s no need for your count, meaning a vote by majority, right? That they count how many are on each side. Don’t worry—your count happened to hit the truth. As though they’re worried; after all, that’s their whole thing—that they’re not worried. For them, the truth is the count; that is the Jewish law. He says, do not be concerned about your count—you happened to be right, or not happened to be. For so I received from Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai—notice this—who heard from his teacher, and his teacher from his teacher. That does not appear here for no reason. I’m telling you. A plastered cistern that loses not a drop. He’s saying: his entire Torah is a Torah of tradition; there’s no need for your dialectics. I have it all—just come ask. This is a law given to Moses at Sinai. And if it’s a law given to Moses at Sinai, what are all your dialectics worth? Ammon and Moab separate the poor man’s tithe in the Sabbatical year—when? Many walled cities were conquered by those who came up from Egypt, and so on, and the first year, and so on. It was taught: once his mind was settled, he said, May it be the will of Heaven that these people stand in their place and see. This is the antithesis of the stories with Rabbi Yehoshua, because Rabbi Eliezer never accepts what happened there, until the end of his life. He sits under excommunication in Lod and does not accept it. And these two stories are meant to contrast Rabbi Yehoshua’s attitude to what happened in Yavneh with Rabbi Eliezer’s attitude to what happened in Yavneh. Because these are exactly the two disputants who created that controversy. This is not a story about whether Ammon and Moab separate tithes in the Sabbatical year, and not about one unit in the world and all these back-and-forths. That’s not the point. The question is how you relate to a Torah of human beings. Is Torah the Torah of the Holy One Blessed be He, or is Torah the Torah of human beings? That’s the discussion here. And Rabbi Yehoshua said it is of human beings. Rabbi Eliezer said Torah belongs to the Holy One Blessed be He. And I received it from my teachers, who received it from their teachers, all the way back to Moses our teacher—a law given to Moses at Sinai. There is no Torah that is not a law given to Moses at Sinai according to Rabbi Eliezer. Understand: this is not a law given to Moses at Sinai by accident. There is nothing in Torah that is not a law given to Moses at Sinai. Nothing came into being after Sinai. All we can do is pass it along from Sinai onward. You see that every word here in this story is completely understandable if we understand the background to everything that happened here. Now, before I get to the end—but there are two stories here. The Talmud in Sanhedrin in two places describes the day of Rabbi Eliezer’s death, and when his day of death comes, the Sages come to take leave of him on the day he dies. He had been under excommunication the whole time; no one came to him. The man who holds all the Torah—no one comes to him. They’re inventing everything on their own in Yavneh, as we just saw; they’re coming up with things from their own minds that, had they asked him, he would have told them. But instead they argue, and he brings reasoning and he brings proofs and votes and justifications—as if they’re reinventing the wheel. Why? Because he’s under excommunication. They don’t ask him even about laws that he knows, which he could have told them. Nothing. He sits there excommunicated; nobody comes to him. On the day of his death they come. On the day of his death they come to visit him and say goodbye. Again, two very powerful stories. Rabbi Akiva said in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua: two people gather cucumbers; one gathers and is exempt, and one gathers and is liable. One who performs an act is liable; one who merely creates an illusion is exempt. This is in the laws of sorcery. If you gather by sorcery, you do tricks, you merely deceive the eye—you’re exempt. If you actually do it, then you’re liable. This Mishnah is an interesting question, because ostensibly it’s a dispute between Maimonides and other medieval authorities, whether sorcery has any real substance at all. Maimonides says no; the Talmud explicitly says yes. If you perform an act, you’re liable; if you merely deceive the eyes, you’re exempt. That implies that an actual act is possible.

[Speaker G] By the way, we mentioned this.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] With Maimonides on the amulet, where they would whisper over a scorpion sting on the Sabbath.

[Speaker G] So Maimonides says very sharp things there about the accursed philosophy and so on. Yes. Rabbi Akiva said, yes, Rabbi—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Akiva said in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua—this is on that Mishnah. But did Rabbi Akiva really learn it from Rabbi Yehoshua? Right? But did Rabbi Akiva really learn it from Rabbi Yehoshua? Excuse me. You’re bringing it in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua? That’s not right. He learned it from Rabbi Eliezer and not from Rabbi Yehoshua—that’s what the Talmud asks. After all, the Mishnah brings it as Rabbi Akiva in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua. The Talmud asks: why? Rabbi Akiva says this in the name of Rabbi Eliezer, not in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua. How do I know? As it is taught: when Rabbi Eliezer fell ill, Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues went in to visit him. He was sitting in his canopied bed, and they were sitting in his hall. Let’s continue with this episode a bit more next time, and then we’ll try to spread the canvas a little. The page is probably worth keeping, okay? Keep it here, yes.