Steve – here are some rather tardy responses to particular points.
Please be patient with me if I state the obvious on a number of occasions. Not all readers here will have the background knowledge that you do.
SteveD wrote:
The ultra-literal use of the proof-text lifted from Deuteronomy 30:12 ("It is not in heaven") fails to handle objections to the structure that the rabbis might have intended to bolster. The interpretation which the rabbis prescribed may even be challenged by their own early precept of 'gezarah shavah' ('equal cutting' - corresponding words/phrases shed light on other such words/phrases located within the text). After all, Psalm 119:89 mentions "Forever, O LORD, thy word is established in heaven."
RE: The interpretation which the rabbis prescribed may even be challenged by their own early precept of 'gezarah shavah'
There are perennially other approaches that one might take to a text. And talmudic literature gives a great deal of space to alternate opinions that do not prevail in determining the standard practice for the community.
Many persons are acquainted with the talmudic comment on a conflict between the interpretive “House”s of Hillel and Shammai:
Rabbi Abba said that Rabbi Samuel said: For three years the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel debated. These said, ‘The law is in accord with our position,’ and those said, ‘The law is in accord with our position.’
An echo came forth and said, ‘These and those are the words of the living G-d, but the decided law is in accord with the House of Hillel.’ {
Bavli ‘Eruvin 13b}
(The tractate includes further discussion:
Well, then, if it is the fact that these and those both represent the words of the living G-d, how come the House of Hillel enjoyed the unearned grace of having the law decided in accord with their position?
Because they are easygoing and reticent; they repeated their opinion and also the opinion of the House of Shammai; and not only so, but they gave priority to the teachings of the House of Shammai over their own teaching. )
Here we find the perspective that there can be more than one legitimate explication of Torah. And yet a settlement is made, by which a single standard is set for the community.
We may compare this with a nodule that I had pruned from our “oven” vignette:
So [Rabbi Eliezer] went and said to them, “If the law accords with my position, let the walls of the school house prove it.” The walls of the school house tilted toward falling. Rabbi Joshua rebuked them, saying to them, “If disciples of sages are contending with one another in matters of law, what business do you have?” They did not fall on account of the honor owing to Rabbi Joshua, but they also did not straighten up on account of the honor owing to Rabbi Eliezer, and to this day they are still tilted.
This almost certainly is an etiological legend, of course; and it probably has been interpolated within our vignette’s more original form. But here we find a paradox of honor, afforded to opposing parties in the controversy.
RE: ... fails to handle objections to the structure that the rabbis might have intended to bolster
Our vignette about the “oven of Aknai” may not address every argument that could be levied against the hermeneutic of “
It is not in heaven.” But we may note that our vignette’s placement in
Bavli Baba Mesi’a is due to other elements in the broader narrative, and not the hermeneutic itself. As it is, this incidental bit is afforded some tangential discussion; but perhaps we may be forbearing about the lack of a more extensive debate, given its setting.
RE: The ultra-literal use of the proof-text lifted from Deuteronomy 30:12 ("It is not in heaven")
Talmudic literature can be extremely terse and allusive. Textual references can be given in highly abbreviated fashion, sometimes consisting of only a few words. But the broader context of those words may be taken into view, even if it is not being quoted verbatim.
If we look at
Deuteronomy 30, we will find that there are a number of elements that are relevant to the “oven” controversy. I have quoted the immediate context previously: “
For this commandment that I command you today is not too hard for you, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will ascend to heaven for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will go over the sea for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it.” {vv. 11-14, ESV}
We can easily identify the immediate parallelism here: on the one hand, “
not too hard for you”/”
neither is it far off”; and on the other hand, “
not in heaven”/”
neither is it beyond the sea.” But we also may note the corresponding elements of the
larger structure, which we may diagram as follows:
(A) this commandment ... is not too hard for you
(B) neither is it far off
(A’) it is not in heaven...
(B’) neither is it beyond the sea...
(B) the word is very near you
(A) it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it
Let’s engage this.
Given the structure as diagrammed above, our understanding of “
not in heaven” should take into consideration “
not too hard for you.”
To begin with, we may note the diction. Where the passage reads “
not too hard for you” in the ESV, we may mine the Hebrew word rendered “
hard” in two respects: on one hand, there is a potential connotation of wondrousness or marvelousness, employed on a number of occasions to refer to extraordinary acts of G-d; on another hand, there is a potential connotation of being separate.
Accordingly,
the commandment is not so wondrous or so beyond humans that they cannot handle it. And this dovetails with the parallel that it is “
not in heaven” – it is not a wonder that lies in the province of G-d, beyond the sphere of humanity.
And yet, there is more: within
Deuteronomy, the root for the Hebrew word rendered “
hard” appears on two other occasions. One of these is in the passage that I have quoted previously: “
If any [matter] arises requiring decision between one [blood] and another, one [judgment] and another, or one [diagnosis] and another, [matters] within your [gates] that [are] too difficult for you, then you shall arise and go up to the place that the LORD your God will choose. And you shall come to the Levitical priests and to the judge who is in office in those days, and you shall consult them, and they shall declare to you the decision.
Then you shall do according to what they declare to you from that place that the LORD will choose. And you shall be careful to do according to all that they direct you. According to the instructions that they give you, and according to the decision which they pronounce to you, you shall do. You shall not turn aside from the verdict that they declare to you, either to the right hand or to the left.
The man who acts presumptuously by not obeying the priest who stands to minister there before the LORD your God, or the judge, that man shall die. So you shall purge the evil from Israel. And all the people shall hear and fear and not act presumptuously again.” {17: 8-13, ESV, alt.; emphasis added}
Here, the ESV translates as “
too difficult for you,” but the Hebrew root is the same. So, given the sort of mental maneuver that underlies
gezerah shavah,
this passage might be brought into the discussion.
And another thing, regarding the “connotation of wondrousness” and correlation with “extraordinary acts of G-d”: when
Deuteronomy distinguishes the commandment from such marvels, this affords a rather adroit swipe at the sorts of “signs and wonders” that Rabbi Eliezer calls for in our vignette. If we may articulate a subtext:
the commandment is not a matter of wondrousness and such – so what place do wonders and such have in defining it?
Given the structure as diagrammed above, our understanding of “
not in heaven” should take into consideration “
it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it.”
This redounds further to the sense that humans are capable to handle the commandment: “
you can do it.”
But beyond this: the commandment lives in the hearts and mouths of Israel. Accordingly, if one is searching for the commandment, one turns to the congregation of Israel.
(Such a conclusion might be received skeptically by a Christian audience. But the rabbis were not Christians. And if the rabbis had an optimistic confidence in their own ability to articulate the word of God, well, I challenge the reader to identify a church that doesn’t feel likewise.)
So the parallelism affords a contrast: one does not go looking to heaven to find the commandment; one goes looking to the congregation of Israel. And if this seems out of order – one might argue, using
Deuteronomy, that heaven has designated Israel (in the persons of its priests or judges) as the arbiter of the commandment. As such, heaven’s designated order is to subcontract articulation of the commandment to Israel.
In summary, then: the commandment is not so wondrous or marvellous that it is beyond the sphere of humanity, relegated to the extraordinary province of G-d; and if interpreting the commandment might happen to become a matter for disagreement between some humans – as may well transpire – then the proper recourse is to bring it to the priestly or judicial authority, who can and will handle the matter (without need for recourse to signs and wonders).
Not all of these lines of reasoning are explicated in
Bavli Baba Mesi’a, but something like them may lie behind the terse summation “
It is not in heaven.”
SteveD wrote:
Beyond the counter-intuitive nature of the rabbinic interpretation applied to Deut. 30:12, another statement is asserted which you might have overlooked while placing emphasis upon Gamaliel's desire to preserve "Jewish unity" and honor to "the Lord of the Universe". Between 'events' recorded within b. Baba Metsia 59a-59b - after the mention of "It is not in heaven" and just before the description suggesting that [the Holy One] "was laughing and saying my children have prevailed over me, my children have prevailed over me" a verse from Exodus 23 (verse 2 to be precise) is grossly misrepresented within the Talmudic story.
A number of comments here...
There is much in Jewish tradition that seems “
counter-intuitive” to Christian minds. The inverse applies, too – there is much in Christian tradition that seems counter-intuitive to Jewish minds.
The two traditions have different hermeneutics and different matrices of meaning. So participants in one tradition may regard mental maneuvers in the other tradition as irregular, since they have not been steeped in the same interpretive environment.
I had noticed the statement you refer to, attributed to Rabbi Jeremiah, but I did not include it in my earlier presentation.
It is worth mentioning that this portion of
Bavli Baba Metsi’a can be engaged both as a unity and as a composite: as a unity – when considering the thought of the talmudic editor(s); yet as a composite – when delving behind the finished product to plumb its antecedents.
Though the talmudic editor(s) chose to include the viewpoint attributed to Rabbi Jeremiah, this does not necessarily mean that the Jeremiah viewpoint accurately reflects the significance of the “oven” vignette as it was originally intended, or the mental maneuverings of Rabbi Joshua in particular (if the vignette is based, to some extent or another, upon actual occurrence). The Jeremiah comment may be a secondary layer of reaction, which the talmudic editor(s) found significant and incorporated into the text.
When engaging the “oven” vignette, then, it may not be necessary to incorporate the Jeremiah comment – as I did not.
But since you have raised this subject, I will tender some response.
SteveD wrote:
[A] verse from Exodus 23 (verse 2 to be precise) is grossly misrepresented within the Talmudic story. Although the Biblical text instructs that one should not speak up in a cause to turn after a multitude to twist judgment, the Talmudic citation fails to acknowledge the negative element within the passage. In other words, as recorded in the Talmud, the text is reframed in such a manner as to suggest the opposite meaning as that found within the Scriptures. The Talmud suggests - "follow/incline after the majority" ...
{and}
The concept advanced by the rabbis appears to affirm a position categorically opposed to the candid expression found within the Scripture verse referenced (by means of neglecting elemental aspects of the verse). It is worth noting that Exodus 23:2 suggests that contrary to giving consent to the majority, one should “not be a follower of the majority for evil; and do not respond to a grievance by yielding to the majority to pervert [the law].” ... Exodus 23:2 – English and Hebrew: The Stone Edition Tanach (Brooklyn: Mesorah Publications, Ltd., 1999).
As I have mentioned, talmudic literature can be extremely terse in its formulation – to the point of obscurity, for many readers. The text can be quite skeletal, and the reasoning(s) behind it will not always be explicated. At times, it can require great effort to try and discern what is transpiring in a passage – to reconstruct the dynamic flow of ideas. This can be like attempting to follow an AM-radio broadcast while driving on the freeway; intermittently
(and at times, inconveniently and frustratingly!), the signal drops out – and one is left to intuit what would have filled the gaps, as best one can.
Accordingly, we should not be quick to assume that the Jeremiah statement is haphazardly or arbitrarily inverting
Exodus 23. There are a number of other possibilities...
On one hand, the terse reference in the talmudic text may rest upon an inference from
Exodus 23: because it is commanded not to follow the majority “
unto evil,” one might infer that the
general procedure is “
you are to incline after the majority.”
We find something like this in
Tosefta Sanhedrin 3.7:
Rabbi says, “From the inference of that which is said, ‘You shall not follow after the many to do evil,’ I draw the inference that I should be with them to do good.”
And from the targums – the “Living” and “Amplified” bibles of their day – we find that this was a rather standard treatment of the verse:
My people, children of Israel, you shall not go after the many to do evil, but rather to do good… {
Tg Neofiti}
My people, children of Israel, do not follow the multitude to do evil, but to do good… {
Tg Pseudo-Jonathan}
My people, my people, house of Israel, you shall not follow the multitude to do evil, but rather to do good… {
Frag Tg P}
My people, O Israelites, you shall not follow the multitude to do evil; but rather to do good… {
Frag Tg V}
As usual, we do not find explanations for the rationale behind these glosses in the targums themselves. But they may have been inferred from the presence of the qualifier “
unto evil” in the first part of the verse:
Why is such a qualifier necessary? Because the usual procedure is to follow after the majority.
So, when we encounter the statement attributed to Jeremiah in
Bavli Baba Mesi’a, it may be drawing upon these sorts of antecedents, or at least paralleling their mental maneuvers.
On another hand, we may take into consideration the figure of Rabbi Jeremiah, who is portrayed in the
Bavli as “not playing well with others.” On one occasion, this Jeremiah asks if the rabbis were indeed certain about a matter of discernment; his teacher rebukes him, “
Haven’t I told you not to place yourself outside of the established law?” {
Bavli Rosh Hashanah 13a; cf.
Bavli Sotah 16b} On another occasion, Jeremiah poses a question that results in his being thrown out of the study-house. {
Bavli Baba Batra 23b;
Bavli Sotah 16b}
This same Jeremiah is portrayed as trash-talking about other rabbis: “
Foolish Babylonians! Because they live in a country of darkness, they repeat obscure traditions.” {
Bavli Bekhorot 25b; cf.
Bavli Yoma 57a,
Bavli Pesahim 34b}
And so, we see that Rabbi Jeremiah is (at some times, anyway) less than circumspect – willing to question or bad-mouth established authority. And like Rabbi Eliezer, he is ejected by his colleagues (though at a later date, through exhibiting deference, Jeremiah is reinstated). As such, we may consider the possibility that the remarks attributed to Rabbi Jeremiah in the “oven” segment are to be taken sarcastically. In this vein, Jeremiah would be purposefully misquoting
Exodus 23.
Let us consider what sort of structure this would yield in
Bavli Baba Mesi’a:
Point (Eliezer) – Here is every imaginable argument for my position.
Counterpoint (other rabbis) – We do not accept those arguments.
Point (Eliezer) – Look at this carob-tree miracle!
Counterpoint (other rabbis) – We do not take that sort of proof.
Point (Eliezer) – Look at this water miracle!
Counterpoint (other rabbis) – We do not take that sort of proof.
Point (Eliezer) – Listen to this heavenly miracle!
Counterpoint (Joshua) – “It is not in heaven.”
Point (Jeremiah) – Sure, Josh. Like it sez, “stretch to follow the majority.” (Not!)
Counterpoint (Nathan) – Ehh, G-d was cool with the play.
We may add here another vignette with Rabbi Jeremiah:
Rabbi Jeremiah was in session before Rabbi Zira {his teacher}, and they were engaged in the study of a tradition. The time came for praying, so Rabbi Jeremiah hastened to adjourn. With regard to this, Rabbi Zira cited the verse, “He who turns away from hearing the Torah — even his prayer is an abomination.” {
Bavli Shabbat 10a; cf.
Proverbs 28:9}
Here we find Jeremiah prioritizing prayer over study of tradition. So perhaps one might paint Jeremiah as the sort of person who would be inclined to defer to an experience of heaven over a hegemonic tradition. Another reason, perhaps, for Jeremiah to be sympathetic to Eliezer’s position in our primary vignette.
But, all this having been said – Jeremiah might have been the perfect character to bolster Joshua’s position. Like Eliezer, he had challenged the majority view; like Eliezer, he had been ejected by his colleagues. But Jeremiah eventually defers to the hegemony and is reinstated. So it may be that the Jeremiah statement is not intended to be facetious. Rather, it may be intended (by the talmudic editors in particular) to stand in juxtaposition to Rabbi Eliezer:
here is another strong-willed outcast, but this one eventually recognized the principle of deferring to the majority.
There remains yet another possibility: the Jeremiah statement rests upon an alternate syntactic construal of the verse in
Exodus. Let’s look at a somewhat transparent rendering of the Hebrew verse, split into its three components:
You shall not after the many unto something negative and you shall not answer concerning a dispute to extend/turn after many to make extend/turn.
Now, one might readily construe the verse so as to correlate the last component with the middle one.
But one eminent targum –
Targum Onqelos – takes a different tack:
Do not follow the multitude to commit evil, nor refrain from teaching [when you are being asked] what is your opinion on a dispute; the final decision is to follow the majority opinion.
This appears to derive from construing the last component as independent from the middle component. Such a construal is not grammatically impossible. And so the Jeremiah statement might rest upon this sort of thinking.
Wrapping this section up, though – whether the remark is sincere or sarcastic, there are ways in which its treatment of
Exodus 23 might be something more than a haphazard error or an arbitrary inversion.
SteveD wrote:
This sort of exegetical technique fails to maintain what I understand to be an acceptable level of integrity in handling Divine instructions, not to mention the method's failure to establish grounds for an authoritative interpretive community. Consequently, ‘Rabbi’ Gamaliel’s special plea for pragmatic justification in the interests of maintaining Jewish unity and honor for “the Lord of the universe” appears rather disqualified by merit of a lack of competency and/or reverence demonstrated by him via the early rabbinic exposition of Scripture.
Perhaps we have already tempered some of these criticisms through our engagements above. But a few more comments, here...
RE: a lack of competency...
It can be quite easy to underestimate rabbinic competence. To some extent, this can be blamed on the obscurity of rabbinic literature. It can be very challenging at first to discern and appreciate the rabbinic genius. But after some acquaintance with rabbinic studies, one will find that one cannot be cavalier about dismissing rabbinic literacy and intellectual prowess.
Of course, one still may disagree with rabbinic tradition, to greater or lesser extents. Competency does not guarantee inerrancy.
RE: a lack of ... reverence ...
A fundamental problem with rabbinic interpretation may be
excessive reverence. The rabbinic mind can ferret a cavalcade of meanings from the Torah text, sometimes hinging upon the most subtle nuances or ephemeral connections – and this can appear justifiable from an extremely reverent view of the Torah and its potential for enlightenment.
Of course, there can be a problem with prevailing upon the text to an overly great extent. If a pious view is so reverent as to become overwrought, then one might well be wary of terribly ingenious and subtle conclusions that are wrangled from the text.
RE: ’Rabbi’ Gamaliel’s special plea ... appears rather disqualified by merit of a lack of competency and/or reverence demonstrated by him via the early rabbinic exposition of Scripture.
This seems a bit out of order. The talmudic text does not state what Gamaliel’s own interpretive rationale was for his decision, so we have little grounds for disqualifying his plea on technical grounds.
The text
does ascribe statements to Joshua, and to Jeremiah, and to Nathan. The Joshua view – which we have explored above – cannot be demonstrated to be incompetent or irreverent. And even if we are not favorably impressed by the Jeremiah statement, Jeremiah is a figure from centuries after the “oven” controversy; Gamaliel can scarcely be held responsible for an interpretive maneuver that is attempted long after his own time. The Nathan anecdote is legend, and in any case, we have no conclusive reason to hold Gamaliel responsible for it.
But we can derive some support from the talmud for Gamaliel’s plea. As we find in
Bavli Baba Mesi’a itself, Rabbi Eliezer was married to Gamaliel’s sister. So Gamaliel’s handling of the situation would have involved at least the danger of some damage to his own reputation and that of his house. This adds some weight to Gamaliel’s plea that “
I have not acted for my honor, nor for the honor of my paternal house....”
RE: an acceptable level of integrity in handling Divine instructions ...
I will use this quote as a springboard to the question “
Did the rabbis in our vignette make the right call?”
A few things to keep in mind, when mulling this over...
If the rabbis admit miraculous events as conclusive evidence, then they have opened the door for wonderworkers to seize the wheel in community affairs. This might seem very spiritual and romantic, but it can be a recipe for disaster. When authority hinges upon the spectacular and the phenomenal, then it is easy for the community to go flitting after spectacles and phenomena.
Not terribly long after the setting of our vignette, the church goes through its own hour of wrestling with a not entirely dissimilar issue (
viz.,the Montanist controversy). And the church emerges from that with an outlook that prioritizes institutional stability and continuity of tradition.
We may return again to
Deuteronomy (for what it’s worth). The Deuteronomic text does not send people to wonderworkers in order to settle their controversies. It sends them to the social institutions – clergy and judiciary. If this seems unsatisfying, let us consider that there are a great many more dubious wonderworkers than there are authentic ones.
If we look at the case in question, it seems questionable that Eliezer’s position was in fact the right one.
The case is described in
Mishnah Kelim 5.8:
If one should cut [the oven] up into rings, and put sand between the rings – Rabbi Eliezer declares it [unsusceptive to uncleanness], but the sages declare it [susceptive to uncleanness]. Such was the oven belonging to Aknai.
The shape of the situation seems to be as follows... An oven was considered susceptible to uncleanness [
q.v.,
Leviticus 11:35]. But what if a practical loophole could be made to avoid this problem? It must have been inconvenient to destroy and replace an oven every time it was rendered unclean!
So what if the oven was not “an oven”? If the pieces of the oven were placed in close proximity to each other, but not actually joined to one another? This arrangement could function as an oven, but it might be pled out as a bunch of parts, and not as “an oven.”
Rabbi Eliezer argues for this sort of loophole, but the rabbinic majority will not buy it. And should we? The artifice is made from the parts of an oven, and it functions like an oven, and it is intended to serve the function of an oven. It seems, in plain sense, that this artifice is essentially an oven – and thus it is susceptible to uncleanness like other ovens.
Beyond this – which ruling is likely to best preserve the intent and dynamic of the commandment? Is it Eliezer’s, which will result in a lot of “pseudo-ovens” and a commandment that is rarely, if ever, practiced or given attention? Or is it that of the majority, which preserves the commandment as a relevant concern in the life of the people?
The “
heavenly voice” does not merely comment on Eliezer’s position about the oven; it asserts that “
in all matters the [legal paradigm for conduct] agrees with him!”
(we will return to that later...)
But what do we find amongst Eliezer’s other interpretations?
Rabbi Eliezer was arrested on account of [heresy]. ... And when he left court, he was distressed to have been arrested on account of matters of [heresy]. His disciples came to confort him, but he did not accept their words of comfort.
Rabbi Akiba came and said to him, ‘Rabbi, may I say something to you so that you will not be distressed?’ He said to him, ‘Go ahead.’
[Akiba] said to him, ‘Perhaps one of the [heretics] told you something of [heresy] which pleased you.’
[Eliezer] said to him, ‘By heaven! You remind me – once I was strolling in the camp of Sepphoris. I bumped into Jacob of Kefar Sikhnin, and he told me a teaching of [heresy] in the name of Jesus ben Pantiri, and it pleased me. So I was arrested on account of matters of [heresy], for I transgressed the teachings of Torah: ‘Keep your way far from her and do not go near the door of her house.’ {
Tosefta Chullin 2:24}
In this vignette, Eliezer applies
Proverbs 5:8 to Christianity – which most Christians would not appreciate. What is more, Eliezer seems to corroborate the principle that one should keep far away from Christianity.
Now, admittedly, Eliezer’s paradigm here might not amount to a “
legal paradigm” – but if this is his paradigm in this matter, might Christians doubt his paradigms in other matters?
SteveD wrote:
“The prooftexts cited by Yehoshua and R. Yirmiah, ‘It is not in heaven’ (Deut. 30:12) and ‘Incline after the majority’ (Exod. 23:2), have different – and quite opposite – meanings in their original contexts. They are interpreted by the sages to give themselves authority to overrule the divine will. The sages’ claim to interpretive authority, then, ultimately depends on the very interpretive authority that it claims!” Jeffrey L. Rubenstein, Talmudic Stories: Narrative Art, Composition, and Culture (Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 1999), 41.
At the risk of being redundant – I will dispute that the invocation of “
It is not in heaven” is contrary to context; that has been dealt with above.
The reference to
Exodus has also been dealt with above, and if one may not concur with the way that the text has been handled, one may yet find the handling to be understandable.
We should consider that the text in
Bavli Baba Mesi’a comes in stages. The rabbis who overruled Eliezer may not have understood themselves to be overruling the divine will – they may have only seen themselves as overruling spectacular phenomena, turning instead to the verdict of the judiciary,
per their scripture.
This same sort of tension recurs in the Christian experience of our times. Some Christians place great value upon spectacular phenomena; but others, when faced with such phenomena, prefer to turn to their scripture and prioritize their understanding of it instead.
It is only when we come to the anecdote ascribed to Rabbi Nathan that it is explicitly given that the rabbinic majority overturned the divine will. This is an anecdote in retrospect, and while it may help us understand the view of the talmudic editors, it does not necessarily reflect the outlook of the rabbis in the original controversy.
But even here – overturning the divine will is not necessarily a negative thing. According to the
Tanakh, Abraham and Moses both confronted the divine will, and Moses appears even to have prevailed so as to change G-d’s will [
Genesis 18:16ff.;
Exodus 32:7-14].
Loving relationships involve give-and-take. This is the case even when there is an inequity of power or authority between the parties involved – particularly when the more powerful party wishes the less powerful party to exercise initiative and to have power and authority of their own.
Let us consider the example of a parent who owns a ranch, and who wants their child to share in the enterprise. Why does the parent want this? For the intimate companionship it would yield, perhaps. Perhaps out of a desire to pass along what has been meaningful to them in their life’s work. Perhaps out of a desire to see the child fulfill their potential.
With such things in mind, the parent may invest the child with initiative, power, and authority that they may exercise on the ranch. And with such things in mind, the parent may be loath to trump the child’s initiative, power, and authority – even when the child is imperfect in their exercise of these investitures.
Now, with this sort of thing in mind, let us turn to consider the words of the “
heavenly voice” in our “oven” vignette:
Again he said to them: 'If the [legal paradigm for conduct] agrees with me, let it be proved from heaven!' Whereupon a heavenly voice cried out: 'Why do you dispute with Rabbi Eliezer, seeing that in all matters the [legal paradigm for conduct] agrees with him!' But Rabbi Joshua arose and exclaimed: 'It is not in heaven.' {
Bavli Baba Mesi’a 59}
Note that the “
heavenly voice” does not thunder forth a decisive verdict. Rather, it pleads a case:
why argue with Eliezer, since in all matters the standard is in alignment with his opinion? And the “
heavenly voice” may be pleading a case because heaven is consciously withholding from imposing itself as the decisive party here.
And there is more – if it is indeed heaven’s position that the clergy and judiciary make the determinative call in this sort of situation, then the “
heavenly voice” may simply be pleading from precedent:
the Sanhedrin has established Eliezer’s interpretation as the prevailing one in every case, so why make a departure now?
If this is the actual scenario, then Rabbi Joshua calls it out – heaven does not render this sort of verdict, and heaven is not attempting to render a verdict. And: Eliezer does not render this sort of verdict; heaven withheld from proving his opinion outright. Rather, the judiciary renders the verdict: the “oven” is a no-go.
If this is not reading too much reservation into the “
heavenly voice,” then we may have G-d behaving like our parent with the ranch above. Resuming the analogy... The rancher’s son is having a disagreement with a well-respected employee, who is adamant about a particular issue. The employee tries to go over the son’s head, asking the rancher to validate his opinion. So what does the rancher do? He does not want to compromise his son’s authority, and so he asks, “Son, you’ve always thought Eli makes the right call. Why argue with him?” But the son knows the lay of the land, and says, “Dad, like you said at the get-go – this one’s my call to make.”
Even if the rancher might agree with Eli’s opinion – or might think it socially expedient to let the venerable ranchhand have his way – the rancher will still uphold his arrangement with his son, and may even respect him for standing his ground.
All this may seem troubling to a Christian mind. But I will wrap things up on this point by noting that there is an Abrahamic religion that is fundamentally oriented around submission to God –
Islam, which literally means “submission.” The literal meaning of
Israel, on the other hand, has to do with man wrestling with the heavenly [
q.v.,
Genesis 32:28]; and Judaism is not so disinclined as Islam or Christianity to wrestle with G-d. Love and loyalty do not utterly preclude it.
SteveD wrote:
Meanwhile, the book of Deuteronomy does instruct its reader to anticipate the coming of a prophet greater than Moses who is to be listened to (Deut. 18:15-19). Evidently, whoever composed Deut. 34:9-12 was certain that such an individual had not yet risen up among the people. Christians understand Moses to have spoken prophetically of Jesus (Acts 3:22-26) while the majority of the religious Jewish population had rejected this interpretation. In light of the destruction of the Second Temple, it is not surprising to me that the text might be exploited in such a manner by a religious society with vested hopes of maintaining religious solidarity and order. Understandably, such hopes must have faced a difficult challenge in attempts to recover from a dismantling blow of this magnitude. The fact that the timing of the judgment which Jesus prophesied to come upon the society (Mt. 23-24) corresponds with the subsequent levelling of the temple structure may have even provoked the re-framers of Judaism to expedite their efforts in redirecting the interests of their fractured community. "The Oven of Akhnai" appears to bear literary record to the nature and character of the leadership of that community.
I am unaware of
Deuteronomy anticipating a prophet “
greater than Moses.” Can you give me a precise reference?
I incline toward understanding
Deuteronomy 18 as addressing the prophetic office in general, and not one ultimate individual. One might consider the broader context in the chapter.
RE: the timing of the judgment which Jesus prophesied to come upon the society (Mt. 23-24) corresponds with the subsequent levelling of the temple structure...
On one hand, I am unaware of why the “
timing” would have been so impressive. Perhaps you can elaborate on this for me.
On another hand, it is not so impressive for anybody in that time to have anticipated a similar outcome. Rome was a superpower, largely by dint of force, and Palestine was a political powder-keg. If matters were to explode in the region, one could easily imagine the Roman response. And the temple had suffered disgrace and destruction before, so it was not unthinkable that such a catastrophe might happen again.
And on another hand – though Christians may be much impressed by the destruction of the temple, one does not need to be terribly impressed by the Christian opinion of its significance. After the sack of Rome in 410 CE, many people looked at the catastrophe as a punishment for abandoning the old Roman religion. But most Christians, of course, would be disinclined to see the event as a vindication of the old pagan gods and a cosmic abolition of Christian faith.
The destruction of the temple in 70 CE was not necessarily a vindication of Christianity or of any other competitor to Judaism; neither was it necessarily an abolition of Jewish faith. Or we may cast the same scenario back six-
plus centuries – when Babylon destroyed the first temple, it did not necessarily vindicate Baal or Asherah, and it did not necessarily abolish the faith of the Jews.
RE: In light of the destruction of the Second Temple, it is not surprising to me that the text might be exploited in such a manner by a religious society with vested hopes of maintaining religious solidarity and order.
We have already gone over the text, and it may not be so badly exploited as you have imagined it to be. But one must also admit that some early Christian sources are willing to go through interpretive gymnastics in order to come up with certain results; consider, if you will,
Matthew 2:15,
Galatians 3:16;
Epistle of Barnabas 9:7-9.
SteveD wrote:
A note that I plucked from R. Burton Visotzky (Reading the Book, p. 42) points out that “once religious authority ceased to be vested in the temple and as a result ceased to be vested in the Bible that promoted that temple, authority moved from the Word to the readers of the Word.”
Did you also pluck his comment from the next page over: “
What Rabbi Shimeon is pointing to is the fact that for Judaism, much as for Christianity in the late first century, the Temple ceased to be a source of authority in biblical religion. Even more startling, but true in both sister religions, is that in some ways the Bible itself ceased to be an authority. Stated more accurately (and less paradoxically) the Bible remained a source of authority only through the ongoing interpretation of the documents it contained.”
So Visotzky doesn’t leave Christians out of the party, does he?
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Thank you for your time and attention, Steve.