Chapter 1, Mishna 1(c)
The Age of Wisdom
By Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld
"Moses received the Torah from Sinai and transmitted it Joshua. Joshua
transmitted it to the Elders, the Elders to the Prophets, and the
Prophets transmitted it to the Men of the Great Assembly. They [the Men
of the Great Assembly] said three things: Be deliberate in judgment,
raise many students, and make a protective fence for the Torah."
For the past two weeks, we have been discussing the introductory lines
of our mishna. As we saw, they offer the historical backdrop not only to
the Mishna as a whole, but to Pirkei Avos in particular -- as a means of
stating that even the practical advice of our Sages is sacred and a part
of our eternal tradition emanating from Sinai.
We now at last arrive at the actual advice of our mishna, the words of
the Men of the Great Assembly. (The Great Assembly was Israel's primary
legislative and judiciary body during the Second Temple era.) As we will
see, their advice too was built upon our mishna's introduction. They
recognized that a transition was occurring during their very lifetimes:
from the Age of Prophecy to the Age of Wisdom.
If we examine a little more closely the era of the Prophets mentioned in
our mishna, we will note that it spans an enormously long and varied
period of history. A lot happened during their sole jurisdiction. The
period began with the generation immediately after Joshua, with the
passing of the Elders who, together with Joshua, led the nation in the
conquest and division of the Land of Israel. The period continued with
the era of the Judges, the Prophet Samuel, King Saul, the Davidic
dynasty, the building of Solomon's Temple, the secession of the northern
tribes into the Kingdom of Israel, the exile (and disappearance) of the
Ten Tribes, the destruction of Solomon's Temple, the Babylonian Exile,
the ascendancy of the Persian Empire, and finally the return to Zion of
Ezra, Nehemiah, and the few who came to build the Second Temple. Oh, and
by the way, the Purim story occurred somewhere in there as well.
Clearly, much political, military and social history elapsed during this
extended period. From any sort of historical standpoint, it is difficult
to imagine lumping this entire period into a single era. Yet our Sages
-- from the perspective of Pirkei Avos -- do just that.
The reason for this is because our Sages were viewing Jewish history
through an entirely different lens. Regardless of empire, war,
expulsion, upheaval, and revolution unfolding around them, Israel's link
to G-d and Sinai was secure. We had prophets. Israel's greatest men and
women received instruction and exhortation directly from G-d's heavenly
emissaries. Our socioeconomic situation rose and fell, and often seemed
to hang by a thread. But we had no doubt as to who we were and what our
sacred national mission was. G-d was there to tell us and to remind us
-- in fact, not to let us forget it. He was still in direct
communication with Israel, and so we were bound to a Torah and tradition
whose import and significance surpassed all other military, political
and societal considerations.
The Men of the Great Assembly recognized that in their own lifetimes
that era was coming to an end. The few remaining prophets were dying out
in the beginning of their days -- not to be replaced. In many other ways
as well, G-d's hand was no longer revealed to Israel as it had once
been. The Second Temple did not house the Divine Presence in the same
manner as the first (see Talmud Yoma 21b). At the same time, however,
Torah study was flourishing and reaching new heights -- as foreseen by
the Prophet Zachariah (4:1-6, see Talmud Sanhedrin 24a).
Thus, the Sages recognized that a new age was dawning: the Age of
Wisdom. We would no longer have prophet to enlighten us as to G-d's
lofty plans and designs for us. We would have to seek Him out ourselves.
And our single tool for Heavenly inspiration would be the Torah -- and
the application of our own frail but creative human minds to its
infinite wisdom. Our own ability to discern truth and understand the
wisdom handed to us from past generations would now be our most precious
asset. And it would sustain us through endless succession of exile and
persecution, and for generations on end.
And so, the Men of the Great Assembly advised their generation -- and
future generations -- what their focus must now be: studying the Torah
carefully and deliberately, giving it over to our own students, and
safeguarding its laws. The advice of our mishna revolves around these
ideas.
Yet there is an even deeper message here. My teacher, R. Yochanan Zweig
(www.talmudicu.edu), explained as follows: If we connect to G-d through
knowledge rather than prophecy there is an inherent danger. We are now
the instigators. Our own brains and efforts become our new sources of
inspiration. It is easy to feel that we are the centers of our own
religion, that we have sought and found G-d -- and we did it on our own
terms. If any given law makes sense to me, if I see it as correct and
inspiring, I will observe it. If not, it is out of the realm of my
concept of religion. I have found G-d -- and I have created Him in my
own image.
This, in spite of the awesome beauty of Torah study, presents an
enormous danger. And so, the Sages found need to warn us: Our knowledge
is valid only insofar as it allows us to connect to our G-d. We may
study and contemplate the Torah's timeless laws, but we are not its
arbiters, nor do we form the centers of our own religion. We are only
the bearers of the Torah -- understanding it to the best of our
abilities and passing along intact that which preceded us.
Thus, the mishna's first statement: "Be deliberate in judgment." Do not
be quick to pass judgment -- not on others nor on any other perspective
on life or wisdom. Do not suppose religion is valid only to the extent
you understand. It is not our job to pass judgment on the wisdom handed
to us, or to be so sure of our understanding as to reject out of hand
all who disagree. We must be exceedingly careful in judgment -- and
certainly in rejection -- of any part or aspect of the wisdom of Torah.
Next, our Sages tell us to raise many students. Our own knowledge is
often limited and myopic. We view wisdom from our own perspective alone.
By raising many students, we ensure that the Torah will not be limited
to any single approach or perspective. Torah knowledge must be
disseminated to as wide an audience as possible. (Some even use the
Internet for such purposes... :-)
R. Zweig noted further that the Hebrew word used here for "raise" is
"ha'amidu" -- which literally means "cause to stand." Do not just teach
students what *you* have to say, creating carbon copies of yourself (to
use a rather dated expression). Cause them to stand on their own feet --
to question, to think for themselves, and to establish their own unique
relationship with the Torah. These are the hallmarks of Jewish
education. We will then have a strong, national connection to the Torah
and a rich gene pool of wisdom to draw from. And no one scholar, no
matter how great, will be able to claim he has the one true
approach to the Torah. The more people we have connecting to Torah and
the more approaches to wisdom, the wider the reach and relevance of the
Torah to the nation as a whole -- and the more lasting and meaningful a
connection we will have to Sinai.
Lastly, our Sages exhort us to create fences for Torah observance, to
safeguard Torah law through Rabbinic injunction. (A simple example is
"muktza", forbidding us to handle e.g. a pencil on the Sabbath lest one
forget and come to write.) Here again we see the same critical message.
We may today connect to G-d through our own intellect, but we must never
let that intellect become the determinant of how and when we will serve G-
d.
We have all heard the following type of argument, in many forms and in
many contexts: "The Torah only forbade lighting a fire on the Sabbath
when it involved rubbing two sticks together and required a great
exertion. Nowadays it's just a matter of flipping a switch and in no way
compromises our Sabbath 'rest', and so there's no reason to forbid it."
Or more simply: "I don't feel commandment x is meaningful to me. I get
nothing out of it. There's no reason to alter my lifestyle just to
accommodate some dated old ritual."
The Sages thus warn us, in no uncertain terms: Our tradition is
untouchable. We use our wisdom to study and interpret our tradition, but
never to replace it. If anything, we must use our wisdom and creativity
to further safeguard the Torah's laws. We are not the owners of G-d's
word nor the centers of our own faith. The intellect may be ours, but we
subordinate it to G-d's infinite Torah. And so our own human wisdom,
rather than being a tool for revision and corruption, becomes yet
another sacred link in Israel's timeless tradition.
Text Copyright © 2007 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.