Spirituality (17): Law vs. Spirituality (1): Torah and Purity of Heart

The last shiur ended with consideration of Torah study as a supreme expression of spirituality and a fusion of the love and awe experiences. Thirst for Torah learning was offered as an example of spiritual ambition that seems to be inspired by something more primordial than mere commandment and that can be frustrated by limitations, even those (legal or physical) imposed by God Himself.

This shiur revisits the topic of Torah study, but from a different vantage point. At the same time that Torah study, in rabbinic literature, can be a powerful source of spirituality, it also appears to live in certain tension with raw spiritual yearning. In other words, while berit Avot spirituality and berit Sinai religiosity primarily complement each other, they can also clash, to a degree. Full, robust Jewish living, then, will inevitably require careful reflection upon the interplay between these two dimensions and thoughtful calibration between them. 

Law and Spirituality – Tensions and Tradeoffs

A number of passages scattered throughout the Talmud describe the religious state of affairs in Jewish Babylonia under successive generations of rabbinic leaders: Rav Yehuda, student of the first-generation Amora’im Rav and Shmuel, and founder of the academy of Pumpedita and its rosh yeshiva (head) until 299 CE; Rav Yehuda’s student Rabba, rosh yeshiva from 299-320; Rabba’s nephew and student Abbaye, rosh yeshiva from 323-338; and Abbaye’s contemporary and colleague Rava, who succeeded him as rosh yeshiva from 338-352.[1]

Berakhot 20a relates the following story:

Rav Pappa said to Abbaye: “What is different about the earlier [generations], for whom miracles occurred, and what is different about us, for whom miracles do not occur?

If it is because of [Torah] learning – in the years of Rav Yehuda, all of the learning was in [the Order of] Nezikin, but we study [all] six orders [of the Mishna]….  And yet, when Rav Yehuda would [merely] remove one of his shoes [in observance of a strict fast day because of drought],[2] rain would come; while we afflict ourselves and cry out, but no one pays us heed!”

[Abbaye] said to him: “The earlier ones would make sacrifices (maseri nafshaiyhu) for the sanctification of [God’s] name; we do not make sacrifices for the sanctification of the name.”

Rav Pappa wonders why his own generation is not privy to the same kind of providence that Rav Yehuda’s enjoyed; after all, the current engagement with Torah scholarship is far more expansive. As an example, Rav Pappa cites how Rav Yehuda struggled with a passage in Uktzin – the last tractate in the Order of Taharot (laws of ritual purity and impurity) – while Rav Pappa and colleagues have mastered Uktzin.

His mentor, Abbaye, responds that the knowledge of earlier generations may have been more limited, but their piety was greater – specifically, their willingness to be “moseir nefesh” (literally, to hand over one’s life, but the phrase can refer to any significant sacrifice) for the sake of God. The contemporaries of Rav Pappa and Abbaye are preoccupied with the law – that is, the content of berit Sinai – in all of its intellectual glory, but at the expense of a certain raw intensity. They stand in contrast to their predecessors, who were not as intellectually accomplished but whose spirit dwarfs that of this later generation.

But from where might this spirit derive? Who originally taught us a value of mesirut nefesh for the sake of God? Avraham, of course! Avraham was willing to martyr himself, not because of a ruling in Rambam’s Hilkhot Yesodei Ha-Torah, but out of spontaneous, overpowering love for and dedication to God (see shiur #50). It is in Avraham’s path that Rav Yehuda’s generation walked, even though their Torah knowledge was not as vast. Abbaye’s colleagues, on the other hand, surpassed their predecessors as students of Moshe, but did not possess the same Avraham-like courage; and thus, the miracles did not come.

The Head and the Heart

Elsewhere, Rava also comments on the same contrast between the generations, introducing it into an unrelated exchange about the Biblical characters Do’eg and Achitofel. Do’eg, we recall from shiur #48, was a contemporary of King David who was steeped in Torah knowledge but was morally corrupt; Achitofel, King David’s adviser a generation younger, embodied the same paradox.[3] In demonstration of their intellectual prowess, the Gemara remarks that “Do’eg and Achitofel asked 400 questions about a cabinet that is suspended in the air,” to which Rava retorts:

Is there greatness in posing questions? In the years of Rav Yehuda, all of the learning was in Nezikin, while we engage a lot in learning [even] Uktzin…. But Rav Yehuda would remove his shoe, and rain would come; while we cry out, but no one pays us heed.

Rather, the Holy One, blessed be He, desires[4] the heart, as it says, “But God sees the heart (leivav)” (I Shmuel 16:7). (Sanhedrin 106b)

Rava begins and ends with Do’eg and Achitofel; his prooftext for God’s desire for “the heart” is actually a remark about King David, their foil. Here, the contrast is not between intellectual achievement and moral action, but between intellectual achievement and purity of heart. Rava observes that Do’eg and Achitofel excelled in their studies but lacked pure intention and devotion, which is what God truly seeks.

Of course, worshipping “with all your heart” is a common refrain in berit Sinai,[5] but perhaps this trait, too, originates with Avraham. Though Sefer Bereishit doesn’t describe Avraham’s heart (or his love for God, for that matter), Nechemya declares, “And You made his name Avraham; and You found his heart (levavo) faithful before You” (9:7-8). An association of “the heart” with the Avot’s worship is also implied by King Shlomo, who praises God as:

[He] Who safeguards the covenant and the kindness for Your servants who walk before you with all their heart. (I Melakhim 8:23; II Divrei Ha-yamim 6:14)

The phrase “Who safeguards the covenant and the kindness” is taken from Devarim 7:6-13, where it refers to God’s promises to the Avot and is interwoven with the theme of bilateral love.[6] “Who walk before You” clearly echoes Bereishit 17:1 – “Walk before Me and be whole (tamim)” – but here, the modifier “with all their heart” takes the place of temimut. In other words, those who walk before God “with all their heart” are following in the footsteps of our Avot and their temimut, and are thus privy to God’s “covenant and kindness” – the blessings of berit Avot. 

Our Sages further highlight Avraham’s purity of heart and its intersection with his more explicit qualities of temimut and love for God. For instance, on the command to love God with all one’s heart (Devarim 6:5), R. Meir comments, “‘With all your heart’ – like your father Avraham” (Sifrei ad loc.).[7] On a verse that states, “Tamim is his way” (Tehillim 18:31),[8] the midrash remarks, “This is Avraham, as it says, “And You found his heart faithful before You.” (Bereishit Rabba 44:1). Finally, the following midrash touches on all of the elements above, as well as on the idea of God as a friend:  

“[Who] loves (ohev) the pure-hearted (tehor-lev); whose lips are gracious, his friend (rei’a) is the king” (Mishlei 22:11) – the Holy One, blessed be He, loves anyone who is tehor-lev; and whoever has grace upon his lips, the King is his rei’a.

This is Avraham, who was tamim and tehor-leivav and became an adorer (ohavo) of God, as it says, “Progeny of Avraham, ohavi (Yeshayahu 41:8).” And because he had grace upon his lips, as it says, “And the matter of strength, and the grace of his arrangement [of speech],”[9] (Iyov 41:4),  [so] the Holy One, blessed be He, became his rei’a, for out of His love for him, He said to him, “To your progeny I have given this land” (Bereishit 15:18). (Bereishit Rabba 41:11)

Here, temimut and purity of heart are intertwined and form the basis of Avraham’s love for God. When combined with ethical virtue – “grace upon his lips” – they elicit God’s love, friendship, and, ultimately, His covenant in return – “to your progeny I have given this land.”

Consequently, one who similarly worships with purity of heart can be said to be following in the path of Avraham. The Avot, one might say, brought very little to their worship other than untainted devotion. Few demands were made upon them, and few boundaries were set on their behavior. All they had to offer was purity of heart and temimut, and God welcomed them to walk before Him with just that.

Their progeny, the recipients of berit Sinai, must busy themselves with a world of concrete directives to practice and to study, but hopefully not to the total neglect of the Avot’s inner devotion and earnestness. Do’eg and Achitofel, however, fell into exactly this trap. They imbibed much Torah, but the Sages comment that it was only “from the lips outward” (Sanhedrin, ibid.). God, however, can see into the heart, and its purity – found in figures like Avraham and King David – is what He most desires.

Furthermore, when Torah is learned without purity of heart, the content itself becomes warped:

Rav Mesharshiyya said: Do’eg and Achitofel did not know how to analyze a [halakhic] discussion. (Sanhedrin, ibid.)

Mar Zutra protests that tradition attests to their great scholarship; how, then, can one claim they lacked comprehension?! Rather, it is explained that their analyses never led to accepted halakhic practice, for it says, “God’s secrets [are revealed] to those who are in awe of Him” (Tehillim 25:14).

Regarding David, on the other hand, the Sages claim that Do’eg himself concedes, “‘God is with him’ (I Shmuel 16:18) – that halakha follows him in all areas” (Sanhedrin 93b; see also Zevachim 54b). Genuine spirituality is not only a moral prerequisite for Torah learning; her secrets are only accessible to one who is pure-hearted.

From Rav Yehuda to Abbaye and Rava

How, though, can Rava be so sure of what God seeks most? Because he draws upon his own lived experience. Rava senses that the academy of Rav Yehuda’s time possessed a quality that it currently lacks. Despite the scholars’ greater breadth of knowledge in Rava’s day, they are nonetheless less worthy. As with Do’eg and Achitofel, intellectual prowess has somehow come at the expense of “the heart.” Ironically, the Sages bend their minds over the Order of Taharot – the laws of ritual purity – but the purity that God most seeks is missing, to some degree, from their hearts.[10]

Intriguingly, Rava is not the first scholar to reflect upon the figures of Do’eg and Achitofel and the fact that their learning did not assure them piety.[11] Chagiga 15b relates that the great Rav Yehuda was once crying. When Shmuel, his mentor, asks why he is so distraught, Rav Yehuda responds:

Rabbi Ami said: Do’eg and Achitofel asked 300 questions about a cabinet that is suspended in the air. Yet the Mishna states: “Three kings and four commoners [among them, Do’eg and Achitofel] have no share in the World to Come” (Sanhedrin 90a); we, what will be with us?!

[Shmuel] said to him: Sharp one, there was impurity in their hearts.

Rav Yehuda can’t help but wonder why the same fate that befell renowned scholars like Do’eg and Achitofel is not awaiting him. Shmuel reassures him that Do’eg and Achitofel were corrupt at the core, which their erudition only masked. And, indeed, by Rava’s account, Rav Yehuda maintained purity of heart, as evidenced by the miracles to which he was privileged.

A generation later, though, Rabba had expanded the curriculum,[12] but the miracles were no longer happening:

Rabba declared a fast. He asked for mercy, but rain did not come. They said to him: But when Rav Yehuda would declare a fast, the rain would come! He said to them: What shall I do? If it is because of the learning – we are better than they are; for in the years of Rav Yehuda, all of the learning was in Nezikin, but we learn [all] six orders [of the Mishna]…. But when Rav Yehuda would remove one of his shoes, rain would come; while we cry out all day long, but no one pays us heed!

If it is because of an [unseemly] matter – if there is someone who has seen something, let him say!

Rather, what can the leaders of a generation do when their generation isn’t similarly worthy?[13]  (Ta’anit 24a-b)

Rabba is willing to take responsibility for the lack of rain, but after careful introspection, he cannot find fault with the rabbinic leadership. By the next generation, however, Abbaye and Rava aren’t so sure. Something has changed, besides the scope of study, and it is not with the commonfolk.

Did the sages of Abbaye and Rava’s time miss the mark? Perhaps. In Rava’s account, his generation excelled in scholarship but lacked a certain purity of heart that God seeks even more. The association with Do’eg and Achitofel, however cursory, is striking, and tinged, I think, with a sense of sorrow. Rava’s colleagues are not the equivalents of Do’eg and Achitofel, but there is a faint echo of their original error that has crept into the academy. In the dogged pursuit of knowledge, Rava suggests, the sages have given up on something even more precious.[14]

Abbaye, too, may be chastising the generation for focusing too narrowly on its studies, at the expense of other dimensions of commitment and spirituality. Alternatively, perhaps his response should be read differently than Rava’s. In noting that “we do not make sacrifices for the sanctification of the name” as Rav Yehuda’s generation did, Abbaye might not be offering a confession but simply acknowledging a real, inherent tension in religious life: between intellectualism and passion; between cool, cerebral analysis and fiery spontaneity; between breadth of mind and depth of soul; between, we might say, the formalities of berit Sinai and the pulsating spirit of berit Avot.[15]

According to this reading of Berakhot 20a, perhaps the miracles of Rav Yehuda’s generation were not a direct reward for greater piety, but the natural consequence of its attitude: As Rav Yehuda’s generation acted more spontaneously, perhaps God responded “spontaneously” in kind, with miracles that deviate from heaven’s standard operating procedure. The later generation, on the other hand, prided itself on its total immersion in the law, but the flipside was a more restrained, calculated approach – “we do not make sacrifices for the sanctification of the name.” Perhaps God, then, is more calculating as well, operating conservatively within the laws of nature instead of transcending them.[16]

Whether Rava and Abbaye’s responses should be conflated or distinguished, they revolve around the same point: At the same time that Torah study supports and nurtures spirituality in some ways, it can also dampen it in others. For all that berit Avot and berit Sinai positively complement each other, there is an irresolvable tension between these two forces, and Jews, individually and collectively, must constantly navigate their careful balance. Whether the later sages of Babylonia regrettably veered from the trodden path or consciously forged a different one, the tradeoffs of their choices were real and unavoidable, and so, too, are the consequences of ours. 

Conclusion

The next shiur will continue to analyze the possibility of tension between law and spirituality in Judaism and will conclude the entire unit on berit-Avot spirituality.

For Further Thought:

1. Rava had plenty to say about both the power of Torah study when it is pursued correctly, as well as the latent dangers when it is not. For additional, salient examples, see Berakhot 17a; Shabbat 31a and 88b; Ta’anit 7a; and Menachot 110a. See also Harav Aharon Lichtenstein, “Talmud and Ma’aseh in Pirkei Avot,” Varieties of Jewish Experience, 39-62. Regarding Rav Yehuda and Rava on the balance between Torah and prayer, see Rosh Hashana 35a and Shabbat 10a, respectively; contrast with Rabbi Yochanan in Yerushalmi Shabbat 1:2. 
    

[1] For historical background, see, for example, Encyclopedia Le-chakhmei Ha-Talmud Ve-ha-Geonim (ed. Mordechai Margaliot).

[2] See Ta’anit 12b.

[3] See “For Further Thought” there.

[4] In the original Aramaic, there seems to be a play on words between “questions” (bayei) and “desires” (ba’i); see Rashi. 

[5] See Devarim 4:29, 6:5, 10:12, 11:13, 13:4, 26:16, 30:2, 30:6 and 30:10; Yehoshua 22:5 and 23:14; I Shmuel 7:3, 12:20, and 12:24; I Melakhim 8:48 and 8:61; Yirmiyahu 24:7 and 29:13; Yoel 2:12; Tehillim 119:2;  Mishlei 3:5; I Divrei Ha-yamim 22:19; and II Divrei Ha-yamim 6:38, 15:12, 15:15, and 19:9.

[6] See also Daniel 9:4 and Nechemya 1:5.

[7] See Ba’al Ha-turim and Hadar Zekeinim (ad loc.), who echo the Sifrei and cite Nechemya 9:8 as the prooftext. See also Midrash Tehillim on 24:4: “‘And pure of heart (leivav)’ – as it says, ‘And You found his heart faithful (ne’eman) before You,’ and it says, ‘And he believed (he’emin) in God’ (Bereishit 15:6).” See also Bereishit Rabba 43:1, which applies Tehillim 112:7-8 to Avraham.

[8] See Yefei To’ar on Midrash Rabba.

[9] See Bereishit Rabba 49:10.

[10] If the laws of a “cabinet suspended in the air” that Do’eg and Achitofel contemplate are about ritual impurity (see Rashi and Yad Rama), then this irony belongs first and foremost to them. Furthermore, perhaps there is also a contrast between Do’eg and Achitofel, who spend their time on arcane, abstract subjects, and King David, whose “hands are dirty with blood and sacs and placentas in order to permit a woman to her husband” (Berakhot 4a; see also Eruvin 53a and Rashi). Similarly, Abbaye and Rava take pride in their knowledge of the Order of Taharot, while Rav Yehuda concentrates on the practical domain of Nezikin (interpersonal conflicts); see also Bava Kamma 30a. See also Mira Balberg and Moulie Vidas, “Impure Scholasticism: The Study of Purity Laws and Rabbinic Self-Criticism in the Babylonian Talmud,” Prooftexts 32:3 (Fall 2012), 312-356, including their reference to a manuscript of Bava Metzia 59a that has Rava again pitting Do’eg and Achitofel, forever preoccupied with their Taharot scholarship, against King David. About King David and the Order of Taharot, see also Midrash Tehillim 1:8.

[11] See also Sota 21a.

[12] See Bava Metzia 86a; compare to 114b.

[13] About Rabba and the local population, see Shabbat 153a and Rashi. Some manuscripts, however, attribute the story in Ta’anit to Rava (see Dikdukei Soferim), in which case it is a variation on the story in Sanhedrin. On the relationships between these different passages, see also Tosafot Ha-Rosh and Petach Einayyim on Berakhot, ad loc., and GevurotAri and Mitzpe Eitan on Ta’anit, ad loc.

[14] Regarding Rava’s concerns for the scholars of his generation, see also Yoma 72b.

[15] Abbaye’s intention may turn on the type of mesirut nefesh in question: Is he speaking about situations in which mesirut nefesh is technically obligated, or about those in which it is a spontaneous, unlegislated expression of fervor? The passage in Berakhot 20a continues with an illustrative story about Rav Ada bar Ahava, who ripped a garment he deemed inappropriate off of a woman in the marketplace. The Arukh and Rashi explain that the garment was immodest, in which case Rav Ada bar Ahava was acting on his own accord. R. Tzemach Gaon (see Teshuvot Geonim Kadmonim, 101; Sefer Yuchasin, “Rav Ada bar Ahava”), however, explains that it contained a mixture of wool and linen (kil’ayyim), and thus, Rav Ada bar Ahava’s intervention might have been mandatory; see Rambam, Hilkhot Kil’ayyim 10:29 and R. Yosef Korkos and Radvaz there, as well as Beit Yosef, YD 303.

Regarding Rav Ada bar Ahava and miracles, see Ta’anit 20b and Yerushalmi Ta’anit 3:11. Rashi, Kiddushin 72b, conflates him with Rav Ada of Bava Batra 22a. However, the two should likely be distinguished, as noted by Tosafot and by Sefer Yuchasin, ibid.: The former Rav Ada was a contemporary of Rav Yehuda and known for his piety, while the latter was a student of Rava who prized proficiency in Taharot but could sometimes behave abrasively (see also Ritva, Bava Batra, ibid.). 

[16] See Iyyun Ya’akov (printed in Ein Ya’akov), Berakhot ad loc., as well as Nedarim 32a.