Rabbi Eliezer Berkovitz z"l
1. Bible and Talmud
Letters and complete words are symbols which must be interpreted and explained. Reading always involves interpretation and explanation of the written material. However, we are not always aware of this, because today reading has become a universal everyday occurrence — an activity which, because we are so practiced at it, poses no difficulty for us whatsoever.
But this soon changes when the written text is not straightforward, or if it is a “symbol” of some chain of reasoning, an expression of connections with which the reader is unfamiliar or which, because of their complexity and profundity, cannot be readily grasped at first sight. Then we no longer talk about reading, but about research, studying, learning. To read is to explain, to read means to learn.
All written material requires a commentary. The first reader is always also the first commentator. The Bible is the written teachings (the so-called Written Law, or Torah Shebichtav) of Judaism — the Book as a compendium. That is why it is inconceivable without commentary. Like any teachings, it must also be explained, and as everywhere, in the case of the Bible as well, explanation begins with reading. To read the Bible is always to explain the Bible. However, to explain the Bible means to study the Bible. The process of studying and its outcome are designated by tradition in the language of the Bible by the word Talmud. (Lamod = Heb. learn; “Talmud” is an abbreviation of Talmud-Torah study of the Torah.)
The Talmud begins with reading the Bible. The first Jew to read the Bible was the first Talmudist. Indeed, it might even be said: Talmud is simply the special way in which for thousands of years the Jewish people read — and are still reading — their Bible . Since Talmud is reading, it is essentially oral teachings.
Irrespective of the way that the Bible is read, the reader will always encounter major difficulties in it. “Questions” will be asked. Asking questions is the dynamic strength of the Talmud. It is an integral part of the text. The Bible is text — but above all, it is teachings (Torah); yet answers are part of teachings. The provider of the text left questions unresolved. The provider of the Teachings must also have provided the answers. The Talmud consists of question and answer. From all of this it follows: The Jewish people received the Talmud together with the Bible. Written and oral teachings cannot be separated from each other. Both come from the same source. The Talmud is as old as the Bible itself.
This can be shown clearly by the following discussion. Moses was undoubtedly the first reader of the Bible in the world. When he reached the place in the Torah where it directs that in the case of a divorce, “He shall write her a bill of divorce,” (Deut. 24:1) he must have asked: What is a bill of divorce? How is it written? What should its contents be? The question must have been answered, because the Bible’s rules were to be valid laws. Moses could not just teach the text of the law; at the same time he had to provide the explanation of the law, the “implementing regulations.” But who taught Moses the explanation; who provided him with the implementing regulations? The same authority which gave him the Law, God himself. The “Halachah le-Moshe mi-Sinai” — the Oral Teachings (the Oral Law or Torah Shb’al Peh) transmitted to Moses at the source of Sinai — is not a dogma, but historical necessity, that is, historic truth. Oral Teachings must have been provided together with the Written Teachings. Moses taught the law, and consequently, he had also to teach its explanation and application. Moses was the first Talmudist.
2. The Talmud and the life of the nation
For the Jewish people, the Bible was never a historical document that belonged to the past. The people always saw it as the eternal book, transcending time, of the eternally valid “Teachings.” The Jewish individual read the Book of Teachings (Sefer Torah) from a dual standpoint: as a book, and as teachings. And this means that the person was seeking for an answer to two questions. First of all to the question: What does the book, the word, the text, mean? And then: What does the teaching want, what does it demand of the person? Jewish individuals are not satisfied with understanding the text; rather, they want primarily to understand the consequences for their lives that follow from the Teachings. This is what constitutes the special nature of the Jewish reading of the Bible, and hence the very essence of the Talmud. This double formulation of the question, with which the Jewish individual approaches the Bible, is already Talmud, just as the answer identified in response to the two-part question constitutes the most comprehensive part of the Talmud. The Talmud explains the text, and also shows how the teaching is put into practice in life.
a) The understanding of the text is the prerequisite for the fulfillment of the Teachings; a person who does not understand the text is incapable of comprehending the teaching. Hence there is a path that leads from word to saying, from statement to statutes, from “Sefer” to “Torah.” It is the path of philological exegesis or — in the language of the tradition — the path of p’shat, the “simple explanation.” One who follows this path to the end, who not only understands the words but also hears the saying that calls people, binding them, one who through the explanation of the text attains teachings which require performance in life — that person will soon find that, in addition to the “simple explanation,” there must be another one with an equal claim to recognition. The Teachings that are attained through p’shat play a vital role among the people; they permeate the reality of the people’s existence as a valid part of legislation, as a binding norm of Jewish social and public life, as the quintessence of the Jewish lifestyle. In this way they become a living spiritual and intellectual force, whereby the Teachings are revealed as a unified body which can then go back to the Biblical saying, so as to “interpret” the individual passage on the basis of the intellectual and substantive content of the living whole.
In addition to philological exegesis, which takes the reader of the Bible from the text to the Teachings, there is also interpretative exegesis, which leads the person putting the Bible into effect from the living Teachings back to the written word. The significance of d’rash — “interpretation” – is equal to that of p’shat. P'shat explains the semantic meaning of a word, while d’rash elucidates the deeper intellectual sense. When, for example, among its provisions on civil damages the Bible, discussing the ox which in a particular case has killed a man, says: “The ox is to be stoned, and its owner is also to be put to death,” (Ex. 21:29) philological exegesis has complied with its task once it has explained a number of words. It is now in a position to translate this sentence according to its semantic meaning. However, the deeper teachings, which should define this provision in legislation as a norm, cannot be satisfied with the “literal” translation, because from the spirit of the Teachings, which is deduced from countless other passages in the Bible, and has thus become legislative practice, it emerges that “you can sentence him to death when he has killed, but not for killing done by his ox,” (Sanhedrin 15a) and therefore the interpretation which is applied is that: “The owner is also guilty of the death” means: “Monetary compensation.” The spirit of the Teachings can only require damages, which in this case are to be settled in terms of monetary value. What is deduced from the Biblical text using the method of d’rash is called Midrash.
The fundamental difference between philological and Midrashic exegesis cannot be expounded in detail here. However, attention must be drawn to two main points in this connection. Firstly: contradictions; secondly, superfluous passages, words, letters, and so on. Contradictions cannot be resolved by philological-scientific exegesis — only recorded; however, Midrashic exegesis must resolve them, because although contradictions may be possible in a text, they are insupportable for teachings which are to be put into effect in life. The living Teachings which are the starting point of the Midrash require the elimination of contradictions arising from semantic meaning. Here too the procedure followed is that of the general Midrashic rule: semantic meaning is interpreted through spiritual meaning. (On the logical principle which applies when resolving contradictions, see Section II, 2 below.)
A similar approach is also adopted to what appears from the plain sense to be superfluous. This could be an entire precept if, for example, it already follows from another passage. It could be words, letters, if they are superfluous for grammatical reasons, and so on. There is nothing that philological exegesis can do with these passages: it can take note of them or, if it has great courage and little conscientiousness, it can even delete them; the Midrash must interpret them. For the Teachings must be a unified whole, in which everything is necessary, sufficient and accounted for, to which “nothing may be added and from which nothing may be diminished.” The Teachings cannot contain anything superfluous; that which belongs to the Teachings necessarily belongs to them. Since according to the Talmudic premise the text of the Teachings is of divine origin just as much as the Teachings themselves, it must be just as perfect as they are. The text must in all respects be homogeneous with the Teachings, and must correspond to them. It must be possible to turn every word and every letter again into teachings. Hence the frequent Midrashic question: “What does it teach me?” The text must contain as little superfluous material as the Teachings themselves. What turns out to be superfluous according to the semantic meaning must be interpreted on the basis of the intellectual meaning of the entire system of the Teachings.
Interpretation (Midrash) is a consequence of the living teachings. It is initially a compulsion to interpret — a compulsion which, however, turns into interpretive or exegetical law as a result of the fact that the interpretative possibility given in the text is not handled arbitrarily. Interpretation always grows necessarily out of the living reality of the Teachings. This necessity is for the most part logically provable (see Section II, 1, 2 below). However, even when this is not the case, when the Midrash, as often happens, does not proceed in its method with satisfactory logical necessity, even then it can be recognized as the organic evolution of the Teachings. The Midrash always possesses this organic necessity, which is why it is, quite simply, a truth of the living teachings.
P'shat is Biblical exegesis as a response to the question concerning the meaning of words and text. D'rash (or common Midrash) is also exegesis — from the viewpoint of the other question regarding the obligatory meaning and intention of the Teachings. Since the Talmud raises both these questions, in Talmudic exegesis p’shat and Midrash exist on a par with each other.
b) Talmudic exegesis is the preparation for the real subject of the Oral Teachings, which we can express as follows: putting the Written Teachings into effect in everyday life.
As the standard of performance or norm for the Jewish individual, the Teachings are law, and like any statute book the Bible, too, can only contain the basic rules in an extremely concise form. However, as soon as an “instance” or case arises in real life, the wording laid down in the legal code is insufficient, and the law must be explained by means of its “implementing regulations.” Its standard of performance as specified in writing is always accompanied by the knowledge of its practical implementation as well. As with any other statute book, therefore, even for the legal teachings of the Bible a supplement in the form of this knowledge of the practical application is indispensable. And this is the source of the necessity of the Oral Teachings, which are also simply the methodology of the application and the fulfillment of the written Torah. (On the “Oral,” see Section 1 above.)
Honor your father and mother, keep the Sabbath, do not covet — all these commandments are worded clearly and concisely, but without detailed explanation of the concepts underlying them, they cannot serve as a guiding principle for human behavior in the practical experience of life. Simply reading them raises countless questions. How far does the duty of honoring parents go? What if the father and mother do not deserve any honor because of their way of life? How does one keep the Sabbath? Where is the boundary between wanting, coveting, and envy? When is coveting sinful? and so on and so forth. Even such unambiguous and clear laws as the Ten Commandments are not applicable in life without “implementing regulations.” The purpose of the Oral Teachings is to explore the law’s forms of application and fulfillment. Whole sections of the Talmud and voluminous tractates are often simply the implementing regulations of a few, concise words of the Teachings. The Talmud shows how the Teachings are applied in the “given case.”
Now as long as these cases were explicitly foreseen by the law-maker, the application of the law is relatively simple and self-evident. It then normally goes back to direct transmission or tradition, which at its core at least is as old as the law itself. For the provisions about its implementation must also be just as old as a law’s entry into force. The application of the law becomes a problem when “new cases” arise in the life of the people which the law-maker did not explicitly foresee. Life changes and evolves, but the law of the Teachings is immutable. The immutable teachings must always shape changeable life. The eternally valid law must also decide on the “new cases.” But how is this possible? The question is not a specific problem of the Oral Teachings, but a general problem of legal philosophy. For every code of law outlasts the circumstances of life which constituted the condition and reason for its development. No law-maker can possibly foresee the plethora of “cases” which will occur in practice. Nevertheless, it is also possible to decide new cases as well according to the older law. Not, of course, according to the subjective will of the law-maker, who can no longer be questioned, but according to the objective intellectual meaning of the law, which is ever-current. This is precisely how the Talmud proceeds, too. With the help of exegetical and strictly logical rules, the intention of the Teachings is deduced also for those cases which could not be foreseen by the law-maker in person. The application of the law then no longer means the straightforward execution of the law, but the creative unfolding of the spirit inherent in the Teachings. In this process, what comes to the fore is above all the productive nature of the Midrashic method of interpretation, which again and again seeks the intellectual meaning in the text. The application of the law in all the innumerable “new cases,” which ever-changing life brings with it, is therefore inconceivable without interpretation of the law, that is, Midrash.
Life asks its questions in those “cases” which must be resolved. The Teachings must answer. It is in this dialogue between life and Torah that the Oral Teachings, the Talmud, unfold. “Thou shalt!” commands the Bible — “How?” asks life — “Like this!” answers the Talmud. The Talmud is as old as the “Thou shalt” of the Teachings, as young as the question of the present day ; it is eternal, just as the Teachings and life are eternal. The Talmud is the bridge across which the Teachings proceed into life. The Bible without the Talmud is like a soul with no connection with the body — eternal but not of this world. It is because of the Talmud that the Teachings “are not in heaven.”
Since the application and execution of the law can be called a commentary from the point of view of fulfillment, Talmud is commentary on the Bible in the broadest sense of the word; written by the Jewish people in the course of the ages of Jewish history.
3. The Talmud and Science
The close relationship between the Talmud and the life of the people also determines the relationship between the Talmud and science, a relationship which because of space constraints we can only briefly review here.
The Talmud always bases itself on “cases.” (“Two people are holding a garment; one says …, the other says …” Mishna Bava Metzia 1:1)
The question that the Talmud asks is: What does the law require in this specific case? This is a practical question, not a scientific or theoretical one. The Talmudist is right in the midst of his people’s life, a position in which he is beset with innumerable questions, to which he seeks the answer by drawing conclusions from the Teachings. The Jewish people has no literary document which is as true to life as the Talmud. Talmud studies are not a sophistic and theoretical form of hairsplitting, but the nation’s rigorous and consistent will to mold its life according to a clearly defined and objective approach, based on the eternal teachings.
The Talmud is an outgrowth of the life of the people, which is why it begins with a specific “case.” In contrast, science starts with a concept. The Talmudic case which is to be decided is a question involving real-life issues. In contrast, science’s questions are problems. A problem is solved by means of hypotheses, whereas questions require answers. Hypotheses need only be possible, whereas answers must be conclusive. Science thinks, whereas teachings must know. This is the reason for the Talmud’s lively discussions, which cannot be brought to an end until a particular answer has proved itself conclusive or, as a great contemporary scholar put it during a discussion at his yeshiva: “It could be said” — is not an answer, “It must be stated as follows” — that is the answer.
The Talmud is not science: like the Bible itself, the Talmud is a body of lessons or teachings for life. The fundamental difference between science and teachings is probably shown most clearly by the pairs of opposites — case/concept, question/problem, answer/hypothesis.
It should, however, be borne in mind that, even though the Teachings are not a science, they nevertheless require scientific knowledge. (Medical consultations would be impossible without clinical research. The practice of judicial authority must be preceded by theoretical legal knowledge.) Without previously addressing the relevant underlying concepts in a scientific fashion, Talmud as the Teachings of how to put the Torah into practice is an impossibility. In this setting the issue is not whether the Talmudist is aware of his scientific performance, but only that he should think through the concepts and problems which precede the Teachings in a scientifically rigorous fashion. Even before Plato and Aristotle, it was also possible to think logically in unambiguous, abstract terms. Midrashic rules of interpretation are the scientific outcome of a highly developed logic which is not only taught but also applied in the Talmud. A large number of postulates and theoretical principles appear in the Talmud as axioms about which no further discussion takes place: the discussion focuses only on the possibility of applying them to the “case in question.” However, the fact that they can be readily applied proves that their basic nature has already undergone theoretical elucidation. Let us take an example. Just as in epistemology we find the problem of “presumption of validity of phenomena,” the Talmud too has a concept of “presumption,” which it calls hazaka. In the Talmud, however, “presumption” is not a problem but a principle, which can be expressed roughly as follows: A circumstance which has been observed holds true as long as it continues to exist, until we have convinced ourselves of the opposite. This principle and many others of a similar nature are applied in the Talmud; however, such application must be preceded by the philosophical explanation of the concept.
Since the Teachings are not the same as science, it must be expected that their systematic structure will not be interchangeable with the systematic of a scientific discipline. By approaching the Teachings with scientific prejudices one would fail to find the Teachings too.
Torah is a body of teachings, not science.
