Post by Rabbi Neil on Oct 27, 2023 20:43:29 GMT
The 9th of Av is the darkest day in the Jewish calendar, known by its date name of Tisha B’Av. Many terrible calamities befell the Jewish people on that day throughout history, from the destruction of the first and second Temples to the start of the Crusades to the expulsion from Spain to the clearing of the Warsaw Ghetto and many more throughout mythology and history. Most of those tragedies involve the Jewish community being attacked by a much larger military force, or being expelled out of a land because they had no political power. There’s not much that we in Santa Fe can do about such things. But, one event on Tisha B’Av that isn’t spoken about is supremely relevant for our day. First, some context. The two schools of Hillel and Shammai are the paradigms of healthy Jewish disagreement. We learn in Pirke Avot (5:17) that “any argument for the sake of Heaven will, in the end, endure but one not for the sake of Heaven will not endure.” An example that is given there of an argument for the sake of Heaven is “that between Hillel and Shammai.” The descendants of Hillel and Shammai disagreed on many things, but they did so in such a civil way that their children married each other (Talmud: Yevamot 14b).
Shammai and his students are described in our tradition as being a little more abrupt. For example, in Talmud (Shabbat 31a), we read a story of a non-Jew who came before Shammai and said to him: “Convert me on condition that you teach me the entire Torah while I am standing on one foot.” Shammai pushed him away with the builder’s cubit in his hand. Another translation says that he hit the man with his stick. The same non-Jew then came before Hillel. Hillel converted him and said to him: “That which is hateful to you do not do to another; that is the entire Torah, and the rest is its interpretation. Now go and study.”
So, the schools of Hillel and Shammai did things differently, but they always did so respectfully, but as time went by, their differences increased and the more it became difficult to understand what was an authentic Jewish position. In Talmud again (Sanhedrin 88b), Rabbi Yose teaches that “originally there were not many disagreements in Israel, and [where there was a standing tradition, they relied on it but] if not, they took a vote [and followed the majority opinion]. But with the students of Shammai and Hillel, who insufficiently studied, the number of disagreements multiplied in Israel, and the Torah became as two Torahs.” In the past, even though the two schools of thought differed, they debated and came to an agreement together. Eventually, though, as they studied less, they found it more difficult to come to an agreement and one fateful Tisha B’Av, the two groups disagreed to the point that they could not agree. Some commentaries (Levush, Orach Chayim, 580 (R. Mordechai Yaffe,1530-1612, Poland), Shulchan Aruch, Laws of Fasts (580) (Rabbi Yosef Karo, 1488–1575, Spain/Land of Israel)) say that this disagreement is why Tisha B’Av is such a tragic day. Other commentaries say that the issue wasn’t the fact that they disagreed, but how they disagreed. Sahal, a 10th century Karaite, says (Tochachat Meguleh) that “conflicts increased between Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai, and they killed each other until the nation was killed in accordance to their desires, and as it was good in their eyes.” His account is slightly different to that of the Jerusalem Talmud (Shabbat 1:4 (3c)) which says that the students of Shammai threatened to kill the students of Hillel who voted against them - it wasn’t that they literally killed each other but that they threatened to do so. In that account, the students of Shammai stage a violent and possibly bloodless coup in order to get their own way.
This isn’t just shocking because of what happened, but because of the descent of dialogue. When Hillel and Shammai were themselves debating, their discussions were so profound that Talmud tells us that a Heavenly voice descends and declares eilu v’eilu divrei Elohim chayyim – both these are these are words of the living God (Eruvin 13b). Their once sacred dialogue descends in a matter or one or two generations to physical intimidation and even actual violence. Can that really be just because their students weren’t learned in the facts of Jewish law?
The only way that I can read this is that they were not just ignorant of the facts but also of the process. They forgot the art of dialogue. They forgot how to view the other side of the argument as essential. They became siloed, in much the same way as contemporary society, particularly in this country, has become siloed. Instead of enjoying a shared journey to a shared understanding of the world, they sought to prove themselves correct at all costs. Shammai may have been abrupt to those whom he thought were wasting his time, but he was never abrupt to Hillel. He knew how essential it was that Hillel and Shammai debated even the most challenging things, and they did so to the point that God values both opinions but eventually rules that the halakhah has to follow one particular school.
Shammai’s students serve as a warning for us today – a warning not to only listen to those who agree with us, a warning of what terrible things can happen when we no longer see the value in the opinion of someone who disagrees with us, a warning of how quickly sacred dialogue can turn into terrifying violence. When it comes to a war between Israel and Hamas, the amount of disinformation is disturbing. The differences in opinion, even within our community, are profound. At times like this, we have to pay very careful attention to what happened when the students of Hillel and Shammai could no longer talk to each other decently. We have to challenge claims that are untrue but do so respectfully, lovingly, patiently. Nineteenth century historian Isaac Hirsch Weiss says that the differences between the two groups of students were not religious but political. He says that “Beit Shammai were opposed to the government and their hand was with the zealots, and Beit Hillel held themselves from rebelling and succumbed to the Romans. And the disagreement over this brought forth enmity between them, and this enmity spread and also their disagreements over the law.” (Dor Dor VeDorshav I 1871, pp. 175 – 176) Two groups of Jews disagreed over politics, and it ruined their religious community. Let us make sure this week not to let that happen to us.
So, may we do the difficult, time-consuming but essential work this week to reach out to those who disagree with us and to engage in sacred conversation with them l’shem shamayim, for the sake of heaven. Let us remind ourselves of the value of the journey of disagreement, perhaps the most Jewish of all activities, a journey which helps us grow as individuals and as a community. Let us see the humanity of everyone with whom we interact, and through our words and our dialogue, let us remove division and bring about more peace, and let us say, Amen.
Shammai and his students are described in our tradition as being a little more abrupt. For example, in Talmud (Shabbat 31a), we read a story of a non-Jew who came before Shammai and said to him: “Convert me on condition that you teach me the entire Torah while I am standing on one foot.” Shammai pushed him away with the builder’s cubit in his hand. Another translation says that he hit the man with his stick. The same non-Jew then came before Hillel. Hillel converted him and said to him: “That which is hateful to you do not do to another; that is the entire Torah, and the rest is its interpretation. Now go and study.”
So, the schools of Hillel and Shammai did things differently, but they always did so respectfully, but as time went by, their differences increased and the more it became difficult to understand what was an authentic Jewish position. In Talmud again (Sanhedrin 88b), Rabbi Yose teaches that “originally there were not many disagreements in Israel, and [where there was a standing tradition, they relied on it but] if not, they took a vote [and followed the majority opinion]. But with the students of Shammai and Hillel, who insufficiently studied, the number of disagreements multiplied in Israel, and the Torah became as two Torahs.” In the past, even though the two schools of thought differed, they debated and came to an agreement together. Eventually, though, as they studied less, they found it more difficult to come to an agreement and one fateful Tisha B’Av, the two groups disagreed to the point that they could not agree. Some commentaries (Levush, Orach Chayim, 580 (R. Mordechai Yaffe,1530-1612, Poland), Shulchan Aruch, Laws of Fasts (580) (Rabbi Yosef Karo, 1488–1575, Spain/Land of Israel)) say that this disagreement is why Tisha B’Av is such a tragic day. Other commentaries say that the issue wasn’t the fact that they disagreed, but how they disagreed. Sahal, a 10th century Karaite, says (Tochachat Meguleh) that “conflicts increased between Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai, and they killed each other until the nation was killed in accordance to their desires, and as it was good in their eyes.” His account is slightly different to that of the Jerusalem Talmud (Shabbat 1:4 (3c)) which says that the students of Shammai threatened to kill the students of Hillel who voted against them - it wasn’t that they literally killed each other but that they threatened to do so. In that account, the students of Shammai stage a violent and possibly bloodless coup in order to get their own way.
This isn’t just shocking because of what happened, but because of the descent of dialogue. When Hillel and Shammai were themselves debating, their discussions were so profound that Talmud tells us that a Heavenly voice descends and declares eilu v’eilu divrei Elohim chayyim – both these are these are words of the living God (Eruvin 13b). Their once sacred dialogue descends in a matter or one or two generations to physical intimidation and even actual violence. Can that really be just because their students weren’t learned in the facts of Jewish law?
The only way that I can read this is that they were not just ignorant of the facts but also of the process. They forgot the art of dialogue. They forgot how to view the other side of the argument as essential. They became siloed, in much the same way as contemporary society, particularly in this country, has become siloed. Instead of enjoying a shared journey to a shared understanding of the world, they sought to prove themselves correct at all costs. Shammai may have been abrupt to those whom he thought were wasting his time, but he was never abrupt to Hillel. He knew how essential it was that Hillel and Shammai debated even the most challenging things, and they did so to the point that God values both opinions but eventually rules that the halakhah has to follow one particular school.
Shammai’s students serve as a warning for us today – a warning not to only listen to those who agree with us, a warning of what terrible things can happen when we no longer see the value in the opinion of someone who disagrees with us, a warning of how quickly sacred dialogue can turn into terrifying violence. When it comes to a war between Israel and Hamas, the amount of disinformation is disturbing. The differences in opinion, even within our community, are profound. At times like this, we have to pay very careful attention to what happened when the students of Hillel and Shammai could no longer talk to each other decently. We have to challenge claims that are untrue but do so respectfully, lovingly, patiently. Nineteenth century historian Isaac Hirsch Weiss says that the differences between the two groups of students were not religious but political. He says that “Beit Shammai were opposed to the government and their hand was with the zealots, and Beit Hillel held themselves from rebelling and succumbed to the Romans. And the disagreement over this brought forth enmity between them, and this enmity spread and also their disagreements over the law.” (Dor Dor VeDorshav I 1871, pp. 175 – 176) Two groups of Jews disagreed over politics, and it ruined their religious community. Let us make sure this week not to let that happen to us.
So, may we do the difficult, time-consuming but essential work this week to reach out to those who disagree with us and to engage in sacred conversation with them l’shem shamayim, for the sake of heaven. Let us remind ourselves of the value of the journey of disagreement, perhaps the most Jewish of all activities, a journey which helps us grow as individuals and as a community. Let us see the humanity of everyone with whom we interact, and through our words and our dialogue, let us remove division and bring about more peace, and let us say, Amen.
