Many of my classes on scripture make a strong use of Midrash and Rabbinic traditions as recorded in the Talmud. Thus it is worthwhile to understand some of my opinions about the nature of Midrash and how the Jewish sages of late antiquity (Hazal) approached scripture. Many of these opinions are more fully developed in my introductory lectures to Rashi’s commentary on scripture.
Firstly, I believe in the rabbinic tradition and I work within its assumptions and beliefs. I care about how Hazal in the Midrash and Talmud approached scripture. For me, it is axiomatic that the sages who lived 2000 years closer to the origin of scripture than we do would have a more accurate understanding of how the text works than scholars living today. I believe that present day scholarship reads its own assumptions back into scripture, whereas Hazal were the inheritors of scripture, and thus partook more fully of the underlying attitudes and assumptions that were basic to its formation. The fact that much of Hazal’s comments sound unreasonable to contemporary readers need not be a sign that Hazal were unreasonable, rater that we do not share their way of thinking about sacred texts. We should try and understand those ways of thinking before we assume that contemporary ways are better or more scientific. In any event, prophecy was a real phenomenon in ancient Israel. Even if contemporary academic scholarship does not believe in prophecy; it was still part of the formative events of scripture for those who were there. How then, can one assume that the contemporary concepts of authorship, genre or meaning have any relevance in a context which affirms the reality of prophetic revelation?
Secondly, I embrace the view, most often associated with Rabbi Isaac Bruer, that scripture does not speak in a single voice. According to one opinion in the Talmud, scripture was revealed to Moshe scroll by scroll, in discrete units. It is also possible that material was inherited by Moshe from older patriarchal sources, and that that by divine instruction, was integrated into the Torah text, much as were the bulk of Sefer Devarim (which consists of Moshe’s farewell discourses,) the oracles of Bilaam (Bamidbar 23-5,) the Song at the Sea and others. We should not expect a text formed through prophecy to work in the same way a human text does. Hence the Torah does not speak through a single voice but through multiple points of view. While this approach is considered somewhat radical in orthodox circles, I find it incontrovertible and even traditional. I remember being taught it in my teens in Yeshiva as something self evident for learning “Pshat in Humash” (the plain meaning of scripture.)
Each point of view gives you a window to see what can be referred to as “Spiritual Truth” although no single truth is absolute. One might ask, what is the ontological status of such spiritual truths? Do they exist in the same way as factual truth? Certainly some spiritual truth become manifest through factual events, but spiritual truth is not factual. Spiritual truth is perceived in the collective spirit of Israel, and provides the structure by which facts can be interpreted. Spiritual truths are not metaphorical. They may have no physical substance, but they are more real (as far as scripture is concerned) than the physical world. When G-s says, “Let there be light!” it is not a factual event. Not is it really a past event. It is a spiritual truth which the community can access though scripture. Whether one believes in spiritual truth or not, I find it undeniable that this is how scripture works. It may not be possible from the human point of view to resolve and unify them every spiritual truth which scripture manifests. Spiritual truth may be like flashes of lightning (see Rambam in his introduction to The Guide) or brilliant fragments of a kaleidoscope. The total picture may be forever beyond us, as Moshe said at the end of Devarim: “The hidden things are for Hashem our G-d, but the revealed things are for us and our children to do all the things in this Torah.”
Thirdly, I affirm that whatever has been written in scripture is a small part of the material which once existed, primarily in oral form, and in written form as well. Scripture as a composite and multi-faceted text naturally links back to these other traditions and stories, which serve as the wider context for scripture. These stories may provide factual background material, or they may be remembered forms of spiritual truth. They may even be fantastic stories which sprang up around factual events whose value is in the way they reflect (not describe) spiritual truth. Scripture is afloat in this diverse wider context. Assuming this is the case, Rashi really was explaining Peshat in his commentary, since it is meaningless to look at scripture without its framing context. When Hazal do a Midrash they are seeking out the connection between what scripture says and what has been received as verbal tradition. It may be that a single passage of scripture contains fragments that reflect different stories in the wider context. Thus Hazal developed a skill for finding repetitions, breaks in continuity or conflicting implications and emphases that indicate divergent frames of reference. Stories presumably circulate among the people, before they get quoted by a Rabbi in a Midrash. When we find a certain rabbi telling a story, that is his way of affirming its value as a remembered event or spiritual truth.
Sometimes a Midrash may point out the connection between a whole scriptural passage and a remembered context, or it may be saying that a single passage actually reflects two contradictory contexts. A Midrash may attempt to reconstruct a lost tradition based upon the subtle structures revealed in a text. A Midrash may also propose that an event may contain a spiritual truth not comprehended by those who experienced it, which plays itself out over time.
Fourthly, I propose that the plain meaning of scripture, (the Peshat) is scriptures attempt to pull together all the remembered contexts and spiritual truths they contain into a standard narrative. All visions of spiritual truth are significant, but not all are equally helpful at all times. I believe that a major intent of scripture is to foster the collective Israelite identity, and this requires that some traditions and memories subordinated. The Peshat is that which approaches a factual narrative. One criterion for the inclusion of an event in scripture is that the memory of this event must be reconcilable on some way with the rest of the narrative. On occasion one will find Hazal providing reconciliations of this kind. Nevertheless, the Peshat will always attempt to present something of a unified narrative, while Midrash seeks to restore the diversity of points of view from which the Peshat is constructed. At times it seems that the Peshat is attempting to preclude a tradition, or emphatically place it outside the unified narrative (see Rashi to Shemot 6:2-5.) This gives one something to think about, though it does not detract from that memory as describing spiritual truth. Similarly, when dealing with a certain event, a commentator (even today) is allowed to suggest a Peshat version of that event, as opposed to a fantastic midrashic one, without detracting from the latter’s value as reflecting spiritual truth.
Fifthly, it is apparent to me that Hazal in their Halachic or legal Midrashim follow many of the same methodologies as in the Haggadic or narrative Midrashim. To my mind, this gives rise to a serious issue. Can it be that during the formative period of the Torah text (the forty years in the desert) there was diversity of religious practice, and conflicting memories about ritual matters, such that the legal texts of scripture serve to pull this diversity together? Arguments between sages over the interpretation of biblical texts are seem to be disagreements over which possibilities are being accepted or precluded by the emphases or subtle structures of the scriptural passage. If so, the this seems to conflict with the notion of Moshe receiving a verbal Torah during his first 40 days on Mt Sinai, which includes (according to Rabbi Akiva) both general principles of the Mitzvot as well as specific rules for their fulfillment. How then could there be diversity of religious practice at such an early stage? I can only responds as follows: During the formative period of the Torah there were indeed various tribal or clan traditions about the practice of the commandments. This is in keeping with the rabbinic tradition that holds “the patriarchs fulfilled the entire Torah before it was given.” When Moshe taught Israel the commandments and their specific rules, he did not intend to eliminate all tribal practices. However, he was creating a general framework for Torah observance against which each tribes practice could be viewed as variations of a central theme. So, for example, some tribes or clans might have eaten Matzah all Pesah, some might have eaten it only on the first night, but everyone would have used Moshe’s definition for Matzah and celebrate Pesah free from leaven as defined by Moshe for seven days. Whatever Moshe’s Halacha about how many days to eat Matzah was, it was not meant to overpower individual tribal practice. At some point in the future, when the desire for unity would overtake tribal traditionalism, the Israelites would look to the written scripture to determine the standard practice for all time. However, this was not expected to take place all in the present. It should not surprise us that thousands of years later this process may yet be unfolding. So to return to my example of the commandment of Matzah, some verses imply that the commandment to eat Matzah applies to all seven days, while another implies that eating Matzah is required specifically at the Seder night. The final conclusion from the Midrash is that Matzah is obligatory on the first night, but remains an optional sacred act for the rest of the holiday.
In summation: The current approach of academia looks to scripture with the purpose of understanding what it supposedly meant to its original audience. A believing Jew seeks to find relevant spiritual truth within it that will both inform Halachic practice and illuminate the meaning of being Jewish. The faith oriented approach is true to the nature of the scriptural text in so far as it is the self conscious result of prophecy. Following the methodology of Hazal brings one to uncover in the text its prophetic ever expansive meaning. Along with the psalmist, I pray “Uncover my eyes and I will see wonders in your Torah!”
Firstly, I believe in the rabbinic tradition and I work within its assumptions and beliefs. I care about how Hazal in the Midrash and Talmud approached scripture. For me, it is axiomatic that the sages who lived 2000 years closer to the origin of scripture than we do would have a more accurate understanding of how the text works than scholars living today. I believe that present day scholarship reads its own assumptions back into scripture, whereas Hazal were the inheritors of scripture, and thus partook more fully of the underlying attitudes and assumptions that were basic to its formation. The fact that much of Hazal’s comments sound unreasonable to contemporary readers need not be a sign that Hazal were unreasonable, rater that we do not share their way of thinking about sacred texts. We should try and understand those ways of thinking before we assume that contemporary ways are better or more scientific. In any event, prophecy was a real phenomenon in ancient Israel. Even if contemporary academic scholarship does not believe in prophecy; it was still part of the formative events of scripture for those who were there. How then, can one assume that the contemporary concepts of authorship, genre or meaning have any relevance in a context which affirms the reality of prophetic revelation?
Secondly, I embrace the view, most often associated with Rabbi Isaac Bruer, that scripture does not speak in a single voice. According to one opinion in the Talmud, scripture was revealed to Moshe scroll by scroll, in discrete units. It is also possible that material was inherited by Moshe from older patriarchal sources, and that that by divine instruction, was integrated into the Torah text, much as were the bulk of Sefer Devarim (which consists of Moshe’s farewell discourses,) the oracles of Bilaam (Bamidbar 23-5,) the Song at the Sea and others. We should not expect a text formed through prophecy to work in the same way a human text does. Hence the Torah does not speak through a single voice but through multiple points of view. While this approach is considered somewhat radical in orthodox circles, I find it incontrovertible and even traditional. I remember being taught it in my teens in Yeshiva as something self evident for learning “Pshat in Humash” (the plain meaning of scripture.)
Each point of view gives you a window to see what can be referred to as “Spiritual Truth” although no single truth is absolute. One might ask, what is the ontological status of such spiritual truths? Do they exist in the same way as factual truth? Certainly some spiritual truth become manifest through factual events, but spiritual truth is not factual. Spiritual truth is perceived in the collective spirit of Israel, and provides the structure by which facts can be interpreted. Spiritual truths are not metaphorical. They may have no physical substance, but they are more real (as far as scripture is concerned) than the physical world. When G-s says, “Let there be light!” it is not a factual event. Not is it really a past event. It is a spiritual truth which the community can access though scripture. Whether one believes in spiritual truth or not, I find it undeniable that this is how scripture works. It may not be possible from the human point of view to resolve and unify them every spiritual truth which scripture manifests. Spiritual truth may be like flashes of lightning (see Rambam in his introduction to The Guide) or brilliant fragments of a kaleidoscope. The total picture may be forever beyond us, as Moshe said at the end of Devarim: “The hidden things are for Hashem our G-d, but the revealed things are for us and our children to do all the things in this Torah.”
Thirdly, I affirm that whatever has been written in scripture is a small part of the material which once existed, primarily in oral form, and in written form as well. Scripture as a composite and multi-faceted text naturally links back to these other traditions and stories, which serve as the wider context for scripture. These stories may provide factual background material, or they may be remembered forms of spiritual truth. They may even be fantastic stories which sprang up around factual events whose value is in the way they reflect (not describe) spiritual truth. Scripture is afloat in this diverse wider context. Assuming this is the case, Rashi really was explaining Peshat in his commentary, since it is meaningless to look at scripture without its framing context. When Hazal do a Midrash they are seeking out the connection between what scripture says and what has been received as verbal tradition. It may be that a single passage of scripture contains fragments that reflect different stories in the wider context. Thus Hazal developed a skill for finding repetitions, breaks in continuity or conflicting implications and emphases that indicate divergent frames of reference. Stories presumably circulate among the people, before they get quoted by a Rabbi in a Midrash. When we find a certain rabbi telling a story, that is his way of affirming its value as a remembered event or spiritual truth.
Sometimes a Midrash may point out the connection between a whole scriptural passage and a remembered context, or it may be saying that a single passage actually reflects two contradictory contexts. A Midrash may attempt to reconstruct a lost tradition based upon the subtle structures revealed in a text. A Midrash may also propose that an event may contain a spiritual truth not comprehended by those who experienced it, which plays itself out over time.
Fourthly, I propose that the plain meaning of scripture, (the Peshat) is scriptures attempt to pull together all the remembered contexts and spiritual truths they contain into a standard narrative. All visions of spiritual truth are significant, but not all are equally helpful at all times. I believe that a major intent of scripture is to foster the collective Israelite identity, and this requires that some traditions and memories subordinated. The Peshat is that which approaches a factual narrative. One criterion for the inclusion of an event in scripture is that the memory of this event must be reconcilable on some way with the rest of the narrative. On occasion one will find Hazal providing reconciliations of this kind. Nevertheless, the Peshat will always attempt to present something of a unified narrative, while Midrash seeks to restore the diversity of points of view from which the Peshat is constructed. At times it seems that the Peshat is attempting to preclude a tradition, or emphatically place it outside the unified narrative (see Rashi to Shemot 6:2-5.) This gives one something to think about, though it does not detract from that memory as describing spiritual truth. Similarly, when dealing with a certain event, a commentator (even today) is allowed to suggest a Peshat version of that event, as opposed to a fantastic midrashic one, without detracting from the latter’s value as reflecting spiritual truth.
Fifthly, it is apparent to me that Hazal in their Halachic or legal Midrashim follow many of the same methodologies as in the Haggadic or narrative Midrashim. To my mind, this gives rise to a serious issue. Can it be that during the formative period of the Torah text (the forty years in the desert) there was diversity of religious practice, and conflicting memories about ritual matters, such that the legal texts of scripture serve to pull this diversity together? Arguments between sages over the interpretation of biblical texts are seem to be disagreements over which possibilities are being accepted or precluded by the emphases or subtle structures of the scriptural passage. If so, the this seems to conflict with the notion of Moshe receiving a verbal Torah during his first 40 days on Mt Sinai, which includes (according to Rabbi Akiva) both general principles of the Mitzvot as well as specific rules for their fulfillment. How then could there be diversity of religious practice at such an early stage? I can only responds as follows: During the formative period of the Torah there were indeed various tribal or clan traditions about the practice of the commandments. This is in keeping with the rabbinic tradition that holds “the patriarchs fulfilled the entire Torah before it was given.” When Moshe taught Israel the commandments and their specific rules, he did not intend to eliminate all tribal practices. However, he was creating a general framework for Torah observance against which each tribes practice could be viewed as variations of a central theme. So, for example, some tribes or clans might have eaten Matzah all Pesah, some might have eaten it only on the first night, but everyone would have used Moshe’s definition for Matzah and celebrate Pesah free from leaven as defined by Moshe for seven days. Whatever Moshe’s Halacha about how many days to eat Matzah was, it was not meant to overpower individual tribal practice. At some point in the future, when the desire for unity would overtake tribal traditionalism, the Israelites would look to the written scripture to determine the standard practice for all time. However, this was not expected to take place all in the present. It should not surprise us that thousands of years later this process may yet be unfolding. So to return to my example of the commandment of Matzah, some verses imply that the commandment to eat Matzah applies to all seven days, while another implies that eating Matzah is required specifically at the Seder night. The final conclusion from the Midrash is that Matzah is obligatory on the first night, but remains an optional sacred act for the rest of the holiday.
In summation: The current approach of academia looks to scripture with the purpose of understanding what it supposedly meant to its original audience. A believing Jew seeks to find relevant spiritual truth within it that will both inform Halachic practice and illuminate the meaning of being Jewish. The faith oriented approach is true to the nature of the scriptural text in so far as it is the self conscious result of prophecy. Following the methodology of Hazal brings one to uncover in the text its prophetic ever expansive meaning. Along with the psalmist, I pray “Uncover my eyes and I will see wonders in your Torah!”
