Ten Minutes of Talmud #169 — God’s Presence in Our Torah Study — Rabbi Amy Scheinerman

R. Chalafta b. Dosa of K’far Chananiah said: When ten sit together and occupy themselves with Torah, the Shekhinah (God’s divine presence) abides among them, as it is said, God stands in the divine congregation (Psalm 82:1). How do we know that the same is true even of five? As it is said, [God] established [God’s] vault on earth (Amos 9:6). How do we know that the same is true even of three? As it is said, In the midst of the judges is God (Psalm 82:1). How do we know that the same is true even of two? As it is said, They who revere Adonai spoke one with another and Adonai heard and took note (Malachi 3:16). How do we know that the same is true even of one? As it is said, In every place where I cause My Name to be mentioned I will come to you and I will bless you (Exodus 20:21). (Pirkei Avot 3:6)

INTRODUCTION

In the wake of the destruction of Solomon’s Temple (586 B.C.E.), our prophets asked whether God had annulled the covenant and “divorced” Israel. The trauma of the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 C.E. seems to have caused our Sages to wonder whether God had lost interest or disappeared from this world. In both cases, the Sages respond with a resounding, “No!” 

In BT Berakhot 6a, Ravin bar Rav Ada says in the name of R. Yitzhak that we know God is present in the synagogue based on Psalm 82:1, the verse cited twice in our mishnah above. Indeed, this is a go-to verse for the Rabbis to assert that God is present whenever a minyan of Jews pray together. The Rabbis understand prayer to be a substitute for Temple sacrifices that can no longer be offered; they even connect the time for obligatory prayer with the times the daily sacrifices in the Temple were offered. In the same Berakhot passage (on 8a), R. Chiyya bar Ami says in the name of Ulla, “Since the day the Temple was destroyed, the Holy Blessed One has only the four cubits of halakhah in this world.” This statement reflects a sense that in the post-Temple reality, God’s presence in our world has shrunk to the domain of our willingness to obey mitzvot. Pirkei Avot 3:6, however, trumpets a subtle yet significant expansion of God’s presence. R. Chalafta b. Dosa extends the idea of God’s presence to encompass whenever Jews engage in Talmud Torah, whether a minyan or sole individual.

COMMENTARY

R. Chalafta b. Dosa, the leader of the Jewish community in Tzippori in the early second century, was a disciple of R. Meir and the father of a great sage, R. Yosei b. Chalafta. His teaching rests on the clever use of biblical verses to forward his argument that there is no minimum number required to experience God’s presence: Torah study itself evokes God’s presence in our lives.

Psalm 82:1 asserts that God stands in adat-El, the congregation of God. In context, this refers to the divine assembly of angelic beings in heaven, but the Rabbis employ the verse to refer to a congregation of Jews, claiming thereby that a minyan (quorum of 10 Jews) is sufficient to constitute an eidah/congregation. Hence, when ten study together, God joins them. But the same is true for five, because, as the prophet Amos attested, God established God’s vault on earth. In context, the term agudah means “vault,” but can be understood as “bunch,” meaning that which you can grasp with the five fingers of your hand. Hence, God descends from heaven to earth when five come together to study Torah. R. Chalafta next reduces the minimum to three on the basis of the next phrase of a verse already cited — Psalm 82:1 — where elohim means “judges.” As we know from Mishnah Sanhedrin 1:1, three are required to constitute a court (beit din) for judgment. R. Chalafta then reduces the minimum to two on the basis of Malachi 3:16: since Torah study is an expression of reverence for God and, as Malachi asserts, when two people who revere God are in conversation, God hears and takes notes—hence God is present. Finally, R. Chalafta reduces the minimum to one solitary Jew studying Torah on the basis of Exodus 20:21, in which “you” is  couched in the singular when God says, “I will come to you and I will bless you.”

 R. Chalafta teaches us that God’s presence is readily accessible to us anytime and anywhere through Torah study. Talmud Torah teaches us to see the world through a divine lens and live our lives by divine ethical priorities—by their very nature evoking God’s presence. It may be that the old adage, “The more the better” applies to both prayer and Torah study, but R. Chalafta understands that this is not always possible, and affirms that God is present wherever and whenever we study Torah. R. Chalafta’s teaching does not define or delimit the conditions of God’s presence, but rather encourages us to continually experience God’s presence by studying Torah. Particularly after the Destruction of the Second Temple, the Rabbis sensed that God needs a dwelling place now that God’s abode on earth had been demolished. R. Chalafta teaches us to create such a dwelling place for God in our hearts and minds through study.

“Each one of us needs to build God a Tabernacle in the recesses of our hearts, 

by preparing ourselves to become a Sanctuary for God and a place for the dwelling of God’s glory.” (Malbim)

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER AND DISCUSS

1. For some, prayer and meditation are powerful paths to feeling God’s presence. R. Chalafta speaks beautifully to the power of Torah study to evoke God’s presence. For others, communal celebrations (such as a Passover seder), listening to music, experiencing nature, or creating art evoke God. When do you experience the Divine in your life?
2. R. Chalafta’s mishnah subtly suggests that as much as we wish to experience God’s presence — and can do so through study — God also wishes to abide among us. Does that view of God resonate for you? Why or why not?
3. Malbim (Meir Leibush b. Yechiel Michel Wisser, 19th c) says, “each one of us needs to build God a Tabernacle in the recesses of our hearts, by preparing ourselves to become a Sanctuary for God and a place for the dwelling of God’s glory.” Have you ever experienced yourself, or an event in your life, as a Tabernacle for God? How do you think you can do that?

Ten Minutes of Talmud #168 — Four for the Price of Three — Rabbi Amy Scheinerman

They [the five disciples of Rabban Yochanan b. Zakkai] each said three things. R. Eliezer said: Let your colleague’s honor be as precious to you as your own; and do not be easily provoked to anger; and repent one day before your death. Warm yourself before the fire of the wise, but beware of being singed by their glowing coals because their bite is the bite of a fox, and their sting is the sting of a scorpion, and their hiss is the hiss of a viper, and all their words are like coals of fire. (Pirkei Avot 2:10)

INTRODUCTION

In Pirkei Avot 2:8 we meet Rabban Yochanan b. Zakkai, the sage who led the Jewish community when the Second Temple was destroyed in 70 C.E. He introduces his five primary disciples — in time, important sages themselves — by recounting their greatest attributes. In Pirkei Avot 2:9, we learn how they responded to their master’s questions, “What is the right way to live?” and “What should one avoid in life?” as well as the responses Rabban Yochanan preferred. Mishnah 2:10 tells us we will learn three important teachings of each of the five disciples, beginning with R. Eliezer, who teaches three principles, and adds a fourth for good measure. 

R. Eliezer b. Hyrcanus lived through the Destruction and on into the second century. Tradition holds that in the midst of the siege of Jerusalem, R. Eliezer and his colleague, R. Yehoshua b. Chananiah, smuggled their master safely out of Jerusalem and joined him in establishing Yavneh as the seat of rabbinic scholarship (BT Gittin 56a). R. Eliezer held conservative views, often agreeing with the perspective of the School of Shammai. This brought him into conflict with his colleagues on a number of occasions and, eventually, into crisis over an issue of ritual purity. Refusing to accept the decision of the majority in the Sanhedrin, R. Eliezer was excommunicated. Gemara records that, wielding magical powers, he responded with fury by wreaking destruction and even bringing about the death of his brother-in-law, Rabban Gamliel, the nasi (president) of the Sanhedrin, who succeeded Rabban Yochanan. R. Eliezer’s often pugilistic and occasionally bitte relationship with his colleagues is reflected in this mishnah.

COMMENTARY

R. Eliezer offers three pieces of wisdom that readily speak to people living in any era. While each alone stands as a sound ethical teaching of proper conduct, it is likely that R. Eliezer had in mind  that the troika should address the challenge of maintaining proper relationships with colleagues. The first teaching is to prize a colleague’s honor as highly as one’s own. Optimally, colleagues are a source of assistance, support, and encouragement. But they can also provide uncomfortable competition, leading to a host of negative outcomes. If our words and actions convey that we esteem them and accord them due respect, we are far more likely to build constructive, working relationships with them. Certainly a win-win. In the Sanhedrin and in the wider world of Torah study, this is a win-win for the entire nation of Israel.

Second, R. Eliezer warns us to control our temper — advice he seems to have found difficult to apply in his own life and perhaps, as a result, appreciated all the more. One who is slow to anger and not easily provoked  is able to consider alternative ways to interpret people’s words and actions, and thereby exhibit understanding and compassion (which are easily extinguished by quick anger). Seething anger leads us to do and say things that are difficult to take back or undo, damage not quickly forgiven, let alone forgotten.

Third, the admonition to repent one day before our death raises the obvious question, “But how do we know when that day will be?” Therefore Gemara (BT Shabbat 153a) notes that one should repent every day. This teaching conveys a perspective on life and relationships that insists we take  responsibility for our errors, not allow wrongs to fester, apologize promptly, and repair relationships with alacrity. The more time passes, the harder errors and misunderstandings are to repair, and everyone suffers as a result.

As a “bonus,” R. Eliezer shares a troubling view of his experience with his rabbinic colleagues, possibly a reflection of his traumatic excommunication. The “warmth” of the fire of Torah wisdom shared in the study house is valuable. But if colleagues fail to adhere to R. Eliezer's three points of wisdom, there is danger of scholars becoming competitors and predators rather than priceless friends and colleagues. Perhaps R. Eliezer’s teachings are most profitably viewed as musar (Jewish ethics) values and priorities to aspire to. After all, every experience in life offers us an opportunity to live what we learn and succeed accordingly.

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER AND DISCUSS

1. Have you made efforts to protect the honor of a colleague in principle, or in order to preserve a constructive relationship, even when you did not admire (or even respect) this person? What was the result? Have you experienced colleagues failing to protect your honor? How did it feel and how did it affect your working relationship with them?
2. The talmudic Rabbis have much to say about the destructive power of anger in our lives. Can you recall a time when you suppressed your anger to make room to consider the perspective of the person whose words or deeds offended you? Were you able to hold back your anger and see things through their eyes? If so, what was the result?
3. It is often difficult to apologize, but it is also the case that when we offer an apology, the other person is so grateful that they, too, apologize for their part in the exchange, as rabbinic stories about Aaron convey. Has this happened to you?

Ten Minutes of Talmud #167 — Rethinking Reward & Punishment — Rabbi Amy Scheinerman

Antigonus of Sokho received [the tradition] from Shimon ha-Tzaddik (Simon the Righteous). He used to say: do not be like servants who serve the master in order to receive a reward, but rather be like servants who serve the master not in order to receive a reward, and let reverence for Heaven be upon you. (Pirkei Avot 1:3)

INTRODUCTION

There is a wonderful tradition of studying Pirkei Avot during the Omer (the period from the second day of Pesach through Shavuot). In many locations, people gather to study Pirkei Avot on Shabbat afternoons during the seven weeks bridging the celebrations of the Exodus from Egypt (Passover) and the Revelation of Torah at Mount Sinai (Shavuot). Pirkei Avot contains a wealth of rabbinic wisdom and insights. It reveals much about the values and theological perspectives of the Sages and serves to launch many marvelous discussions that permit us to ponder and reconsider our personal values and view of God against how we live out our spiritual lives.

Antigonus of Sokho lived some two centuries B.C.E., long before there were rabbis. He was a Pharisee who sported a Greek name, which was not unusual following Alexander the Great’s conquest of Judea in 332 B.C.E. In Pirkei Avot’s effort to document a strong and vibrant path of the transmission of Oral Torah from Sinai to the academies of Eretz Yisrael and Babylonia, Antigonus of Sokho occupies an important spot: he was exposed to Hellenistic ideas, and reflected on both Written Torah (the Five Books of Moses) and the nascent Pharisaic tradition in this teaching that Pirkei Avot preserves for us.

COMMENTARY

Written Torah speaks at length about God’s promised rewards to those who obey the mitzvot, as well as and the punishments that will accrue to those who violate them. Deuteronomy 11:13–21 (second paragraph of Shema) is a prime example: God warns Israel that if they heed the mitzvot, God will bring rain at the proper season, insuring ample harvests and multiplying flocks and herds. If, however, they disobey, God will withhold the rain, resulting in drought and famine. It is worth noting that Torah speaks of reward and punishment in corporate terms: people obey or disobey as the nation, and as a nation they will be rewarded or punished accordingly. 

In time, some prophets hinted that the system of heavenly reward and punishment might operate on an individual level, as well, leading to a theological perspective that holds up God as a cosmic  accountant, recording our mitzvot and aveirot (sins) on a heavenly ledger. This perspective renders reward and punishment not only a national concern, but also a personal matter because it is driven by individual behavior. This latter thinking had taken hold by the time of Antigonus of Sokho.

Antigonus of Sokho understands that we all desire pleasure and reward, and we all wish to avoid pain and punishment. He does not take exception with that set of priorities, but rather directs us to consider our motivation for serving God. If we fulfill the mitzvot purely in expectation of divine reward, we diminish the meaning of obedience to God and are like servants who serve only to receive a reward, and not because service has value beyond the reward. Rather, he encourages us to view our adherence to what we understand to be God’s priorities and values (as expressed through mitzvot) as valuable service rendered for its own sake. He further advises us to always revere God, recommendation that, in context, suggests that pure reverence for God should be our primary motivation for fulfilling the mitzvot.

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER AND DISCUSS

1. How do you understand God? (Some consider God a Cosmic Being who controls or intervenes in the events of our world; others think of God in more abstract terms) How do the concepts of reward and punishment fit within your understanding of God? 
2. Reward and punishment can be viewed through the lens of pleasure and pain. The trade-off between pleasure and pain was articulated as long ago as Epicurus (340–270 B.C.E.), who lived several generations before Antigonus of Sokho. Epicurus wrote (Principal Doctrine, 3), “The magnitude of pleasure reaches its limit in the removal of all pain. When pleasure is present, so long as it is uninterrupted, there is no pain either of body or mind or both together.” The 17th century philosopher Thomas Hobbes wrote that human beings naturally incline toward hedonism: to maximize happiness, people maximal their pleasure and avoid pain (at least in the short term). Modern psychologists have measured social decision-making and confirmed the human proclivity to seek pleasure and avoid pain, but they also recognize the human desire to find meaning in what we do, or do not do. On the basis of Epicurus, Hobbes, and modern psychology, one might dismiss biblical reward and punishment, couched as it is in the plural (meaning that we all are rewarded or all punished together) as having no reality. Alternatively, one might reinterpret the notion of divine reward and punishment in accordance with what is most meaningful. What approach do you take?
3. Although he does not say explicitly, it is easy to imagine that Antigonus of Sokho would have us fulfill mitzvot out of love of God, appreciation for the merit of mitzvot, and concern for the impact of our behavior on ourselves and others. With these motivations, we enhance our own lives, the lives of others, and express reverence for God. If Antigonus of Sokho had in mind that fulfilling a mitzvah is an act of obedience that is truly an act of love and appreciation of the Divine, not mere subservience, how might you incorporate that ideal into your life and practice?