PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS IS THE FINAL SHIUR
IN MAHARAL ON PIRKE AVOT. WE WILL BE"H BEGIN A NEW SHIUR IN SEPTEMBER, FOR WHICH
REGISTRATION IS NOW OPEN. THE MAIN CHOICES ARE: 1) COMPLETING THE THIRD PART OF THE MOREH
NEVUKHIM (WE WOULD BEGIN FROM CHAPTER 41, FINISHING RAMBAM’S VIEWS OF THE REASONS FOR
MITSVOT, AND GOING ON TO A DISCUSSION OF HIS VIEW OF HUMAN PERFECTION). 2)THE LAST CHAPTER
OF SANHEDRIN, WHICH DISCUSSES THE FUNDAMENTAL BELIEFS REQUIRED OF A JEW, AND 3)THE BOOK OF
PROVERBS. REGISTRATION FOR THAT COURSE IS BY E-MAIL TO gidonr@idt.net, AND WILL CLOSE JULY
31ST. HAVE A GOOD SUMMER.
R. ELAZAR B. AZARYAH’S CONNECTIONS
Mishnah 17 presents R. Elazar ben Azaryah’s (he of Pesah Seder fame—the one
who was ke-ven shiv`im shanah, looked like he was seventy years old) view of several
necessarily interconnected areas of life. As the Mishnah renders it, he pointed to four
pairs of concepts that need to be there together or neither can fully flourish. The way he
expresses this is by saying about each pair "if there is no A, there can be no B, and
if there is no B, there can be no A." He asserts this interconnection for Torah and
derekh erets (a term we will have to define in a moment), for wisdom and yirah (fear of
sin), for da`at and binah (terms we’ll define in a moment, but that refer to types of
understanding), and for Torah and flour. Each case requires some further elaboration.
TORAH AND DEREKH ERETS
The term derekh erets, as I believe we have discussed before, is inherently
ambiguous—it can refer to earning a livelihood, to behaving appropriately, among
others. Maharal here takes it to refer to hanhaga tiv`it, to the way of operating in this
world. By that he means more than just knowing how to make enough money to live, since
that will be included in the later clause of "if there’s no Torah, there’s
no flour." Rather, he seems to mean knowing how to make one’s successful way in
life in the world of Nature; medicine, economics, politics, social graces, all of those
and more could be included in his reading of derekh erets.
Torah, when contrasted to this meaning of derekh erets, means hanhaga elyonit, knowing
how to act on a higher plane, in the realm of spirit and spirituality. What’s
interesting about this reading of the grouping is that Maharal is openly requiring an
understanding of both in order to be a complete person. It is not enough, apparently, to
know Torah and how to operate on that plane.
In fact, his explanation of the two clauses differentiates them in a way that
highlights his concern with both. According to Maharal, the phrase that conditions Torah
on having derekh erets is chronological—without first having an understanding of
hanhaga tiv`it, the ways of the natural world, one cannot truly understand Torah. The
reverse clause says that without Torah, the natural world cannot survive, an interesting
but not unique expression of the Jewish belief that observance of Torah is not just a
value, but is actually vital to the physical survival of the natural world.
FEAR AND WISDOM
On its face, the Mishnah claims that without fear of God, one cannot have wisdom and
vice verse. As Maharal points out, however, there are people who have had wisdom without
fear of God—he uses the example of Ahitophel, an advisor of King David’s who
eventually joined Avshalom’s rebellion against his father. A Mishnah later in Avot
mentions that King David learned two halakhot from Ahitophel, and because of that referred
to him as "my teacher, my master." Ahitophel thus clearly had wisdom, despite
his equally obvious lack of fear of God.
Maharal suggests that the Mishnah’s claim that without fear one cannot have wisdom
means that fear of God is the mekayyem, the supportive element of one’s wisdom. That
would mean that one can acquire wisdom without much fear of God, but that that wisdom will
not last as long. Alternatively, the Mishnah might be pointing out that fear of God is the
purpose of acquiring wisdom, so that without that fear, what one has acquired isn’t
truly wisdom (in this reading, wisdom isn’t just book knowledge or a creative
intellect, it is knowledge and insight that fuels fear of God—the Mishnah then means
that "if there is no fear, one’s wisdom isn’t real," rather than there
is no wisdom).
For the flip side, Maharal explains that without wisdom, one cannot truly acquire fear
of God—as we have seen in the phrase "ein bur yere het," an ignoramus
cannot be one who fears sin. In addition, Maharal notes that it is easier for someone who
is wise to acquire fear of sin, so that "im ein hokhmah, ein yir’ah" might
mean more simply "without wisdom, it is much more difficult to become one who fears
God." In these readings, it should be clear, Maharal has broken the constraints of
the "if there is not… there cannot be" formulation, allowing for looser
readings of the interconnection of the two elements under discussion.
DA`AT AND BINAH
Maharal interprets these two terms, which clearly refer to forms of knowledge, but are
differently interpreted by various commentators, as referring respectively to knowledge of
an object’s essence and to the ability to extrapolate creatively. Deep knowledge
(da`at) of a human cell, for example, involves knowing each of the parts of the cell,
their chemical makeup, the functions they serve, the processes whereby they fulfill those
functions, and so on. Binah about the cell would be the ability to apply that knowledge to
new and creative areas.
Given those definitions, Maharal has made a really interesting claim about the nature
of knowledge. Many people (and traditional sources) see the abilities to master vast
quantities of knowledge and the ability to think creatively as separate, and indeed in
terms of intellectual skills, they are—we all know of people whose most obvious skill
is their knowledge, although they do not excel to nearly the same extent in their ability
to think creatively and adaptively (and vice verse).
Maharal is saying, however, that the two skills are much more reliant on each other
than we notice. Without a deep understanding of a topic, it is impossible to think
accurately about that topic, no matter how creative a mind we possess. On the other hand,
just knowing the essential nature of various subjects is not enough, either, since Maharal
informs us that binah, the ability to form new knowledge and insight, is the higher of the
two qualities, which is why we mention in prayer that God grants da`at to adam (man in his
natural state), but teaches binah to enosh, man in his (or her) higher form.
FLOUR AND TORAH
Maharal takes kemah, flour, to refer to monetary livelihood, with Torah referring to
spiritual livelihood, and the Mishnah pointing out the interconnection between the two.
The interesting part of his discussion is his explanation of why the Mishnah refers to
flour rather than to bread. He points out that bread is thicker than flour, so that flour
reflects the intellectual life more (when we get thick and slow—in all ways—it
is seen as slowing down our whole life, including our intellects). In addition, bread has
yeast mixed in (yeast was the rising agent in their breads), which often symbolizes sin;
the Mishnah wished to refer to livelihood earned with no sin mixed in. (The symbolism of
se’or she-ba-`isah, the yeast in the dough, is prevalent in discussions of Pesah and
the need to get rid of our hamets. Maharal is simply applying that symbolism here).
Finally, had the Mishnah referred to bread, we would have taken it as a reference to that
day’s livelihood, whereas flour can refer to the notion and ability to earn a
livelihood generally.
WISDOM AND ACTIONS
The last part of the Mishnah expresses a belief that one’s actions need to
outstrip one’s wisdom. The Mishnah notes that anyone whose wisdom is greater than his
actions (meaning his good deeds, his actions of mitsvah) will not have his wisdom last,
but if his actions are greater, they will. The most interesting part of the Mishnah, and
certainly of Maharal’s comments on it, is the comparison the Mishnah draws to a tree.
One whose wisdom exceeds his actions is seen as a tree with meager roots and many
branches, so that a relatively light wind can uproot it. One whose actions outstrip his
wisdom, on the other hand (meaning that his piety is greater than might be expected for
one at his level of knowledge), is like a tree with firm roots, that can stand in the face
of even the strongest wind. Maharal explains the analogy along the lines of his derekh
erets contrast earlier. One’s actions, which are performed in this earthly realm, are
like the roots, which dig down into the earth, but hold the tree steady. One’s wisdom
on the other hand is more similar to the branches, which reach up to the sky (as wisdom
brings us up closer to our Father in Heaven).
