Critical Talmud Study in an Orthodox Context
A Rosh Yeshiva in Israel argues for the incorporation of modern, critical
Talmud study methods into the world of Orthodox Talmud study.
By David Bigman
Excerpted with permission
from "Finding a Home for Critical Talmud Study" in The Edah Journal 2:1, published by Edah,
Inc. The full article, with footnotes, can be
found on Edah's website.
Our
method for learning Talmud can be summarized in the following question:
"What is it saying and what is it saying?"
In order to make this question intelligible, we have to define what we mean by
three crucial terms, "it", "saying", and "saying." The first two have been
well developed by the academic world. However, since that consensus is not
widespread in the yeshiva world, I
will summarize them here. It is the third where we have something to contribute
to the discourses both of the yeshiva (center
for Talmudic learning) and of the academy.
Through defining these terms, we will see that the
method consists of 1) identifying the different layers of the Talmudic sugya [a topical section of Talmud]2) reading each layer in its own
context, and 3) evaluating what values are reflected by each particular
statement and the larger editorial structure of the sugya. Through this approach, we get a glimpse of the intellectual
history of the sugya and, more
importantly, we inherit a wide range of halakhic [legal] values that operate in
the Talmud‑--values that guide the binding halakhic interpretations of
the Talmud and that can and should operate in our own thinking and decision‑making.
"It"
The
Talmud is a composite document reflecting numerous voices from various places,
spanning over 500 years. Consciousness of this fact is the crux of the method.
It bears emphasizing that the Talmud does not attempt to hide this feature of
its composition. The formal sources of the Talmud--mishnayot [units of Mishnah], baraitot
[Mishnah-era statements not found in the Mishnah itself], and memrot of amoraim [statements by Gemara-era rabbis]--are formulated in terse,
legal format and in the enterprise's "official" language, Hebrew.
Later
glosses, comments, and discussions‑the stama degemara‑‑are recorded in conversational style
and in the colloquial language of the time, Aramaic (just as today students of
Talmud discuss and comment on the text in English, modern Hebrew, Yiddish,
etc.). Furthermore, not only are the individual sources linguistically
distinct, but the editors of the Talmud even use specific terminology for the
kind of sources they are bringing (e.g., detanya
[from a baraita], tenan [from a mishnah]…, itmar [said by amoraim]…
Comparison
of the printed edition to manuscripts reinforces sensitivity to this
characteristic of the literature. One rarely finds significant variations in
halakhic sources of the tannaim
[Mishnah-era rabbis] or amoraim
[named rabbis commenting in the Gemara].
One constantly finds variations‑‑often substantial‑‑among
different textual witnesses for the stammaitic [later, usually anonymous] give‑and‑take
of the sugya.
Knowing
this, we read the tannaitic and amoraic sections differently than the
stammaitic ones. The former are legal source material, fastidiously transmitted
in an official format. The latter are commentarial glue that interpret and
contextualize the source material as they transmit it. These layers of
commentary and scrutiny‑‑the stam‑‑are
already embodiments of the learning process, and are, phenomenologically, the
same process in which we engage in our batei
midrash [traditional Jewish study halls]. Awareness of this distinction
invites a different conception of the genre of the Talmud.
"Saying"
Once
we comprehend the Talmud's genre ("it"), our first task in learning a
sugya is to identify and separate its
strata. As we do so, we listen to what each voice is "saying", that
is, what each one means in its own context. This task requires expanding our
study of primary texts, including the Tosefta [a Mishnah-era collection of
material not included in the Mishnah itself), midrashic literature, and the
Talmud Yerushalmi [also known as the Palestinian Talmud].
We
learn the positions found in a mishnah in the context of relevant parallels‑‑not
only in baraitot in the Bavli (Babylonian Talmud) but also in
the Tosefta and the halakhic midrashim‑‑in order to appreciate the
nuances and range of tannaitic positions. We can then understand what Rabbi
Yehudah haNasi [the compiler of the Mishnah] was saying by recording certain
positions and not others, and by recording them in certain contexts and not
others.
The
same goes for amoraic statements. Instead of accepting the Bavli's formulations
carte blanche, we first study memrot (statements) as they appear in the less
edited Yerushalmi.
…In
the course of identifying original voices, the learner should utilize the wide
corpus of manuscripts of the Bavli and other rabbinic texts. Not infrequently,
one finds variants that clarify difficult passages in a sugya. The printers of the Talmud… made interpretive choices in
deciding among variants in the manuscripts before them. They also frequently
emended the texts on the basis of the "corrections" of the
Maharsha"l (a 16th-century commentator), whose notes were
insightful, but not necessarily based on textual traditions.
Since
Daniel Bromberg (a Christian who printed the first full edition of the Talmud
in Venice in 1520‑1523), the widow Romm of Vilna (who printed the Vilna Shas which we use today, in 1880‑1886)
and all those in between did not have Ruah
haKodesh [inspiration by the Holy Spirit], we should read their texts
alongside other textual possibilities that stood before them (and before the rishonim and aharonim [earlier and later commentators], for that matter…).
How We Read
Using these lower‑critical tools is important, but
insufficient without the appropriate consciousness in reading. The linchpins of
our method are paying attention to the strata of the text and reading each
stratum in its own context, without the comments or qualifications of later
voices. Reading an amoraic source in the dressing given to it by the stam prevents the learner from
understanding the amora himself.
It further shrouds perception of just what was bothering
the stam and what legal or conceptual
development he heralded. (Opponents of the academic method sometimes criticize
it for showing disrespect to hazal
[the rabbinic sages] and the Talmud. I think the opposite. It is because of our
reverence for the tannaim, amoraim
and the editors, that we insist on understanding all of them. If they spoke up,
they deserve to be heard and appreciated.)
The same is true regarding amoraic extensions of tannaitic
sources and Rashi's commentary on the "final" text. Reading the
Talmud synchronically (without taking into account historical development)
misunderstands the genre and loses the nuances, or even the entire thrust, of
many of hazal's voices.
"Saying"
…However,
Talmudic scholarship exposes itself to a potent critique, articulated often in
the yeshiva world: "So
what?". Too often, academics labor to identify the contextual meaning (peshat) of every source and to trace the
arrangement of the sugya without
asking what halakhic concept is adduced or what values are at play in a legal
ruling, textual interpretation, or editorial choice.
Sometimes
this lack is merely a missing step that we can fill to supplement the critical
analysis. Sometimes, though, it challenges the veracity of their conclusions,
because they have reached them without attending to the issue at hand. In our
eyes, any explanation of a ruling or interpretation that is unconscious of the
issue at hand is suspect. The core question on any text is, "What is it saying?" Our employment of all
other features of the critical method is ultimately to enable us to address
this question most responsibly and confidently…
"So
what?" is not the only challenging question asked by non‑academics
of academics. Others challenge critical method as being disruptive to halakhah.
According to this claim, if the academics intend for their peshat [the meaning in historical context] of Rav Huna's memra (for example) to be available for
contemporary halakhic adjudication, the analysis becomes disharmonious to the halakhic process, since no tradition
(currently) exists for such a reading. Alternatively, if it is to have no
bearing on practical halakhah, its revelation is irrelevant.
Law is an Embodiment of Values
Our
response to this assertion is that it is coherent only if one looks at the
ruling as a legal bottom line and nothing more. Such a view misunderstands the
nature of law. All legal thought is, by its nature, an embodiment of values, so
Rav Huna's statement is, actually, a translation of some nexus of values into
the setting at hand. These values can be economic, social, political, moral,
cultural, or spiritual, and usually some combination thereof. They can be
conscious, when a tanna or amora actively grapples with a practical
need in the community, or unconscious, when his general outlook informs how he
interprets a text or situation.
The
bottom line of our method of learning is that the sages of the Talmud‑-those
named and those anonymous‑-knew how to express themselves. We, as
committed rabbinic Jews, have to train ourselves to hear them. That requires
marshalling all available tools toward understanding the discussion at hand in
a sugya… When we ask, "What is
it saying and what is it saying?",
we equip ourselves to hear the voices of the Talmud express themselves as
translations of God's will into the setting at hand. This sensitivity not only affords the strongest reading of the
Talmud, but also best enables us to locate ourselves on the map of halakhic
discourse.
Excerpted from The Edah
Journal with the permission of Edah, Inc., a website devoted to Modern Orthodoxy.
Rabbi David Bigman is Rosh
Yeshiva at Yeshivat Ma'aleh Gilboa, an Israeli yeshiva which is described as
committed to the dual ideals of devotion to Torah, and intellectual openness
and honesty. Rabbi Bigman is an architect of the Shiluv program, which combines
yeshiva study with full army service.
