This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Professor Dov Weiss[1] ꟷ examines how late Palestinian Midrashim, particularly the Tanchuma Yelamedeinu (fourth to ninth centuries CE), depict humans challenging G-d over morally problematic issues expressed in the Torah. In these cases, biblical figures are audaciously portrayed as both teaching and counselling G-d, as it were, convincing Him to adopt a more moral and ethical approach. The Midrashic work, Tanchuma Yelamedeinu exhibits about fifty examples of humans making G-d ‘more moral.’
Defining Tanchuma Yelamedeinu literature
There is no singular work entitled Tanchuma Yelamedeinu. Instead, it is a collection of a vast variety of texts that include Midrash Tanchuma, Shemot Raba II (chs. 15-52), Bamidbar Raba (chs. 15-23), Devarim Raba, Pesikta Rabati (various chapters) and fragments of Tanchuma Yelamedeinu texts discovered in the Cairo Geniza. Weiss explains:
“[T]he plethora of TY [Tanchuma Yelamedeinu] texts and manuscripts testifies to its popularity in late antique Palestine—and explains why so few midrash scholars have dared to produce a critical edition” (Weiss 2015:72).
The various sections of Tanchuma Yelamedeinu often open with the recognisable phrase “ילמדנו רבנו, “let our master teach us (yelamedeinu).” The rabbi often cited in this literature is R. Tanchuma, a fourth-century sage, hence the designation Tanchuma Yelamedeinu, although frequently the rabbi or master remains anonymous. However, according to Zunz (1954),[2] on occasions where other rabbis’ names are used, they are sometimes “forged,” and sometimes have honorifics inserted (Bregman 1991)[3] to appear to be of earlier provenance.
Other Midrashic literature, like Vayikra Raba, contains a mix of Hebrew and Aramaic whereas Tanchuma Yeladmedeinu (especially the literature produced from the sixth and seventh centuries onwards) is mainly in Hebrew.
Marking a change in traditional Midrashic style
Besides the morally confrontational approach, the literary style of Tanchuma Yelamedeinu is most significant because it marks the end of the period where the task of Midrash is to comment on the Torah, and the beginning of a period where Midrash attempts to ‘rewrite’ and ‘retell’ the actual Torah narratives:
“In these [Tanchuma Yelamedeinu] texts, there is little to no transition between the biblical passage and its interpretation, as the biblical passage is often embedded within the interpretation. At times, the biblical proof text is even omitted altogether. In other words, while early midrash presents itself as an explicit commentary on the Bible, late midrash is an attempt to re-narrate the Bible, blending together biblical verses and interpretation. The TY [Tanchuma Yelamedeinu] literature thus marks the beginning of the rabbinic ‘rewritten Bible’ genre that reaches its apex with the writing of Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer (ca. eighth century)” (Weiss 2015:74).
To achieve their objective of presenting their ‘rewritten Torah,’ the Tanchuma Yelamedeinu usually only offers one interpretation ꟷ unlike the earlier Midrashim that offered many commentarties on, and interpretations of, a single Torah verse.
Most fascinating, and the focus of this article, is what Weiss refers to as the “confrontational rhetoric” whereby the biblical characters are said to not only challenge G-d, but instruct Him on ways of ethics and morality ꟷ and G-d, as a result of the human confrontation, is depicted as heeding the lesson and adopting a better moral position.
“God’s capitulation is transformative and substantial, reflecting an ongoing and fundamental change in God’s attitude towards Jewish law and his governance of the world. Rather than a one-time concessional act of divine mercy, such as those we encounter in the Hebrew Bible,[4] these divine retractions found in TY [Tanchuma Yelamedeinu] literature become codified or systematized; they express an essential change in God’s moral compass” (Weiss 2015:76).
We shall now examine five instances where the Tanchuma Yelamedeinu literature depicts biblical figures confronting G-d and teaching Him a ‘better’ system of morality:
1) Visiting the iniquities of the parents upon their
children
The first case includes both Exodus 34:6–7[5] and Exodus 20:5 (the Ten Commandments) where G-d is said to punish children for the sins of their parents, פוקד עון אבות על בנים, up to the third and fourth generations.
It must be noted that the Tanach itself, in Ezekiel 18:20, contains an internal biblical refutation of these two sources from Exodus, and severely challenges the notion of inherited guilt:
בֵּ֞ן לֹֽא־יִשָּׂ֣א ׀ בַּעֲוֺ֣ן הָאָ֗ב וְאָב֙ לֹ֤א יִשָּׂא֙ בַּעֲוֺ֣ן הַבֵּ֔ן צִדְקַ֤ת הַצַּדִּיק֙ עָלָ֣יו תִּֽהְיֶ֔ה וְרִשְׁעַ֥ת (רשע) [הָרָשָׁ֖ע] עָלָ֥יו תִּֽהְיֶֽה׃
“A child shall not share the burden of a parent’s guilt, nor shall a parent share the burden of a child’s guilt...” (Ezekiel 18:20).
The rabbis dealt with this apparent contradiction in three very different ways:
a) The Mechilta of R. Yishmael (third century) explains that the child is only punished if he or she continues along the same evil path as the parents or grandparents. If they do, then the Exodus texts come into play ꟷ if they don’t follow the evil ways of their predecessors, then the Ezekiel text comes into effect (Mechilta deRabbi Yishmael, Bachodesh 7). The lesson is that an innocent child will not be punished for the sins of the parents. This Mechilta is a typical rabbinic response to a textual contradiction and they usually try to reconcile conflicting texts.
b) There is another approach, this time, from the Talmud:
מֹשֶׁה
אָמַר: ״פֹּקֵד עֲוֹן אָבוֹת עַל בָּנִים״, בָּא יְחֶזְקֵאל וּבִיטְּלָהּ: ״הַנֶּפֶשׁ
הַחֹטֵאת הִיא תָמוּת״
“Moshe recorded that [G-d] visits the inequities of the parents on the children. Then came Ezekiel and nullified [that principle] and said that each person shall die for their own sin [not for those of another]” (b. Makot 24a).
This Talmudic view is attributed to R. Yosi ben Chaninah (third-century Palestine). It is an astonishing text because it essentially maintains that a law of G-d recorded in the Torah (and in the Ten Commandments specifically) was later abolished by Ezekiel, and no longer applies!
c) A third response can be found in the Tanchuma Yelamedeinu. The writers of Tanchuma Yelamedeinu were most likely aware of the two earlier sources just mentioned as the Tanchuma Yelamedeinu emerged from around the fourth (and continued up to the ninth) century. Yet, Tanchuma Yelamedeinu decided for a more radical approach. It chose to go the route of a radical confrontation where Moshe is depicted as challenging G-d and then teaching Him a lesson in morality!
The Tanchuma Yelamedeinu writes that the Exodus text of the Ten Commandments, and its notion of inherited guilt, was one of three instances where Moshe confronted G-d and taught Him a lesson. In all those cases, G-d responded “למדתני, You [Moshe] taught Me something.”
In this text, Moshe is said to brazenly confront G-d and he reminds Him that many righteous children were born of evil parents; like Avraham who was born from Terach. Imagine, Moshe argues, if Avraham had to suffer iniquities visited upon him because of his evil father:
וכן
נאה שיהן הצדיקים לוקין בעון אביהם
“[Moshe confronts G-d:] Is it
appropriate that righteous people should suffer for the sins of their parents?
[G-d said to Moshe] You have taught me something. By your life, I will nullify my decree and establish your word, as it says: Parents shall not be put to death for children, nor children be put to death for parents [Deuteronomy 24:16]”[6] (Tanchuma Yelamedeinu, Numbers Raba II, 19:33).
Thus, according to Tanchuma Yelamedeinu, Moshe notices the inherent injustice in the biblical notion of inherited guilt, and he confronts G-d on the matter. G-d accepts the arguments of Moshe and agrees that the law is immoral. G-d then changed the law and a new law is presented (Deuteronomy 24:16) where each person is responsible for their own guilt, and guilt can no longer be transferred intergenerationally. Moshe had taught G-d the moral principle of individual responsibility for sin. And G-d, as it were, emends His Torah by inserting the verse in Deuteronomy (never mind the abovementioned verse in Ezekiel).
2) Karet (Excision): Being
cut off from one’s people
The second example of Moshe depicted as teaching G-d morals and values concerns the most extreme biblical punishment of Karet. This is when G-d ‘cuts’ (Karet) the individual off from the rest of the Jewish people. The Torah does not define exactly what is meant by Karet, but it is a divinely administered punishment along the lines of a severe form of excommunication or even the death penalty.
According to Jacob Milgrom (1990:405-8),[7] nineteen[8] categories of sins are punished by Karet ꟷ and none of these are ethical crimes against other humans. Karet is only incurred for ritual sins against G-d. According to Numbers Raba 5:4, thirty-six sins carry the Karet penalty.
According to Aharon Shemesh, however, Numbers (15:30), requires that Karet is incurred for every sin against G-d:
וְהַנֶּ֜פֶשׁ אֲשֶֽׁר־תַּעֲשֶׂ֣ה בְּיָ֣ד
רָמָ֗ה מִן־הָֽאֶזְרָח֙ וּמִן־הַגֵּ֔ר אֶת־ה ה֣וּא מְגַדֵּ֑ף וְנִכְרְתָ֛ה
הַנֶּ֥פֶשׁ הַהִ֖וא מִקֶּ֥רֶב עַמָּֽהּ׃
“But the person, whether citizen or stranger, who acts defiantly, reviles God; that person shall be cut off from among the people.
Interestingly, Shemesh (2003:91–93)[9] shows that the majority of rabbinic texts retain the plain reading of this verse and suggest it refers to all types of sins against G-d, all of which require Karet, the harshest of the biblical punishments.
On the other hand, while the others are discussing technical details about the exclusions and inclusions of Karet, Tanchuma Yelamedeinu has Moshe challenge G-d, again, arguing that Karet is too final and too severe a punishment for a just G-d. Moshe’s efforts were rewarded with G-d conceding to replace the death penalty of Karet with forty lashes.
In fact, it wasn’t only regarding Karet that Moshe is said to have taught G-d a ‘better’ system of morality, but also regarding other forms of capital punishment as well, which could similarly be mitigated by forty lashes. Regarding the ‘gatherer of sticks’ (Mekoshesh Eitzim) for example, Numbers (15:36) has G-d sentence the man to death through stoning:
וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יְהֹוָה֙ אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה
מ֥וֹת יוּמַ֖ת הָאִ֑ישׁ רָג֨וֹם אֹת֤וֹ בָֽאֲבָנִים֙
“God said to Moses, that man shall surely be put to death, he shall be pelted with stones.”
However, once again, Moshe is said to have challenged the ethics and values of G-d’s original biblical ruling and convinced Him to adopt a better and more ‘just’ outcome involving forty lashes, instead of stoning:
“Immediately, Moses our teacher rose in prayer and said: Master of the World, if an Israelite has sinned, should he in fact be stoned? If so, then they [Israel] would be totally destroyed. Make another enactment for them. He [God] said to him: Let him be scourged with forty lashes, and he will have fulfilled his obligation” (Tanhuma, Numbers 23, MS Cambridge 1212).[10]
3) Seeking peace before waging war
The Torah presents two different versions of Moshe’s conquest of Sichon, the Amorite king, in Transjordan:
a) In Numbers (21:22–35), Israel conquers the Amorite territory in a war of self-defence because the Amorites refuse to let Israel pass through their land and they (the Amorites) proceed to attack Israel. In this narrative, Moshe first sends messengers of peace, and war is only an option if the peace fails:
וַיִּשְׁלַ֤ח יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ מַלְאָכִ֔ים אֶל־סִיחֹ֥ן מֶֽלֶךְ־הָאֱמֹרִ֖י
לֵאמֹֽר׃
Israel now sent messengers to Sihon king of the Amorites, saying,
אֶעְבְּרָ֣ה בְאַרְצֶ֗ךָ לֹ֤א נִטֶּה֙ בְּשָׂדֶ֣ה
וּבְכֶ֔רֶם לֹ֥א נִשְׁתֶּ֖ה מֵ֣י בְאֵ֑ר בְּדֶ֤רֶךְ הַמֶּ֙לֶךְ֙ נֵלֵ֔ךְ עַ֥ד אֲשֶֽׁר־נַעֲבֹ֖ר
גְּבֻלֶֽךָ׃
“Let me pass through your country. We will not turn off into fields or vineyards, and we will not drink water from wells. We will follow the king’s highway until we have crossed your territory.”
וְלֹא־נָתַ֨ן סִיחֹ֣ן אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵל֮ עֲבֹ֣ר בִּגְבֻלוֹ֒ וַיֶּאֱסֹ֨ף
סִיחֹ֜ן אֶת־כׇּל־עַמּ֗וֹ וַיֵּצֵ֞א לִקְרַ֤את יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ הַמִּדְבָּ֔רָה
וַיָּבֹ֖א יָ֑הְצָה וַיִּלָּ֖חֶם בְּיִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃
But Sihon would not let Israel
pass through his territory. Sihon gathered all his troops and went out against
Israel in the wilderness. He came to Jahaz and engaged Israel in battle.
וַיַּכֵּ֥הוּ
יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל לְפִי־חָ֑רֶב וַיִּירַ֨שׁ אֶת־אַרְצ֜וֹ
But Israel put them to the sword, and took possession of their land…
b) In Deuteronomy (2:24) a far more aggressive narrative is portrayed, and the war is presented, not as a battle of self-defence but as an offensive battle with G-d declaring:
ק֣וּמוּ סְּע֗וּ וְעִבְרוּ֮ אֶת־נַ֣חַל אַרְנֹן֒ רְאֵ֣ה נָתַ֣תִּי בְ֠יָדְךָ֠ אֶת־סִיחֹ֨ן מֶֽלֶךְ־חֶשְׁבּ֧וֹן הָֽאֱמֹרִ֛י וְאֶת־אַרְצ֖וֹ הָחֵ֣ל רָ֑שׁ וְהִתְגָּ֥ר בּ֖וֹ מִלְחָמָֽה׃
Rise Up! Set out across the wadi
Arnon. See, I give into your power Sihon the Amorite, king of Heshbon, and his
land. Begin the occupation: engage him in battle…
וְלֹ֣א אָבָ֗ה סִיחֹן֙ מֶ֣לֶךְ חֶשְׁבּ֔וֹן הַעֲבִרֵ֖נוּ בּ֑וֹ כִּֽי־הִקְשָׁה֩ יְהֹוָ֨ה אֱלֹהֶ֜יךָ אֶת־רוּח֗וֹ וְאִמֵּץ֙ אֶת־לְבָב֔וֹ לְמַ֛עַן תִּתּ֥וֹ בְיָדְךָ֖
The King Sihon of Heshbon refused to let us pass through, because God had stiffened his will and hardened his heart in order to deliver him into your power…
In this narrative, the focus is less on peace, which is not a practical option because G-d had stiffened Sichon’s heart. This notion of the stiffening of the heart is not found in the earlier Numbers narrative. Furthermore, the later narrative in Deuteronomy involves the total annihilation of the people and all the land of Sichon:
וַנִּלְכֹּ֤ד אֶת־כׇּל־עָרָיו֙ בָּעֵ֣ת הַהִ֔וא וַֽנַּחֲרֵם֙ אֶת־כׇּל־עִ֣יר מְתִ֔ם וְהַנָּשִׁ֖ים וְהַטָּ֑ף לֹ֥א הִשְׁאַ֖רְנוּ שָׂרִֽיד׃
At that time we captured all his towns, and we doomed every town—men, women, and children —leaving no survivor.
There are different interpretational responses to these two different accounts of the same story:
i) According to Moshe Weinfeld, the two versions represent two different traditions regarding the political status of Transjordan, the land of Sichon. The version in Numbers corresponds to the view that Transjordan was never supposed to be part of the Holy Land. Therefore, the battle against Sichon is described as a war of self-defence and not a war of occupation to attain rightful land. On the other hand, the second version, in Deuteronomy, represents the view that Transjordan is rightful land and may, therefore, be conquered, occupied and the population annihilated. Weinfeld argues that the version of Deuteronomy is a combination of both traditions and thus includes the earlier Numbers notion of “messengers . . . of peace,” but adds the second tradition of Transjordan being part of Israel’s land which allows for its conquest and total destruction.[11]
ii) According to the Sifre (third century), the inconsistencies in the text do not represent different traditions but rather come to convey a lesson in morality that even in a war, one should strive for peace:
“Great is peace, for even in a time of war people need peace, as it is said: ‘When you…do battle…you will offer peace’ [Deuteronomy 20:10]. [This is reflected in the following two verses:] ‘Begin the occupation: engage him in battle’ [Deuteronomy 2:24] So I sent messengers from the wilderness of Kedemoth to Sihon the king of Heshbon with words of peace [Deuteronomy 2:26]” (Sifre Numbers 42).
This typical style of hermeneutic harmonization between Deuteronomy 2: 24 (“Begin the occupation: engage him in battle”), and Deuteronomy 2:26 (“I sent messengers… with words of peace”), allows for the dialectics of war and peace to remain in constant moral tension between each other, but peace is always the best option.
iii) According to Tanchuma Yelamedeinu, however, a very different position ꟷ if not somewhat subversive ꟷ is suggested and this is consistent with the theme of this article where once again Moshe teaches G-d morals:
“R. Levi said…‘In the days of
Sihon…God said: Go and fight with him and close up his water canal; but Moses
did not do so [ומשה לא עשה כן], as it says, and I will send
messengers [Deuteronomy 2:26].
God said: By your life, you have done appropriately [חייך עשית כראוי], for I agree [מסכים] with your actions. Therefore, Moses warned the Israelites and said to them: When you come to a city to fight against it, you shall call forth peace [Deuteronomy 20:10]” (Tanhuma, Shoftim 19).
Tanchuma Yelamedeinu offers no hermeneutic harmonization between verses 24 (“engage in battle”) and 26 (“words of peace”). Moshe confronts G-d, even defies Him, and teaches Him a lesson in morality ꟷ and G-d agrees and indeed learns the moral lesson from Moshe!
“Before Moses’s confrontation, God prefers war to peace, but now—after Moses’s defiant and successful critique—God prefers peace to war in conflicts between Israel and its enemies” (Weiss 2015:87).
4) Cities of Refuge
The laws of the Cities of Refuge are found in Numbers 35:9–34 and Deuteronomy 19:1–13. They deal with special cities designated to offer asylum for someone who inadvertently killed another person. The reason was to protect the inadvertent killer from a family member of the deceased person, also known as the ‘גֹּאֵ֥ל הַדָּ֖ם or blood avenger,’ who may seek vengeance. Although the Torah doesn’t state so explicitly, there is a presumption that, in biblical times, blood avengers were legally permitted to kill inadvertent murderers, with impunity.
Once more we hear the voice of moral protest within the Tanchuma Yelamedeinu literature ꟷ this time not from Moshe but from Israel ꟷ who were not satisfied with the status quo, and records:
“Israel declared before God [after being informed of the blood-avenger law]: Master of the Universe, is this an example of prolongation of days? A man kills another unwittingly and the avenger of blood pursues him to kill him, and both die before their time? God thereupon answered Moses: By your life, Israel speaks rightly [חייך יפה הן מדברין]. Go and set aside for them cities of refuge…” (Deuteronomy Raba 2:18).
Thus, in the conceptualisation of Tanchuma Yelamedeinu, an ethical protest by Israel against G-d succeeded in curtailing the rights of blood avengers and preserving the lives of those sheltering in the Cities of Refuge ꟷ and G-d is again seen to agree, as it were, that human innovation was sometimes morally ‘superior’ to His original set of values.
5) Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah (סדום ועמורה)
Tanchuma Yelamedeinu, as we have seen, effectively rewrites many biblical narratives, and another striking example is Genesis 18, where Abraham argues with G-d over the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham is said to have confronted G-d on the matter of His attempts at destroying humankind and complained that:
“He [G-d] kills all the generations with cruelty [במדת אכזריות]. He destroyed the generation of Enosh [and] the generation of the flood [with cruelty, and] does not abandon His trade [and continues to kill with cruelty].”
Once again, astoundingly, Tanchuma Yelamedeinu’s had G-d accept the rebuke and challenge and responds:
ואם
תעלה על דעתך שלא עשיתי כהוגן למדני ואני עושה
“And if it should cross your mind that I [in fact] acted unfairly, [then, Abraham,] teach me and I will do accordingly” (Tanchuma, Genesis 18).
We have examined five instances where Tanchuma Yelamedeinu conceptualises that G-d was prepared to learn morality from humans. Weiss proceeds to offer some possible context for this seemingly unusual form of inverted hierarchy where humans confront and challenge G-d, and then go on to teach G-d morality.
Context
Weiss asks two important questions, the answers to which may inform us about the background and context for the confrontational and didactic genre of Tanchuma Yelamedeinu:
“Why is the Tanhuma material decidedly more confrontational than its rabbinic predecessors? Why did this motif of human protest followed by divine retraction reach its zenith in sixth- and early seventh-century Palestine?” (Weiss 2015:91).
a) Firstly, it is possible that Tanchuma Yelamedeinu simply built on, and expanded upon, earlier standard Midrashim where confrontation with G-d already was developing in an embryonic stage.
b) Secondly, notwithstanding the first suggestion, Tanchuma Yelamedeinu may be seen as a very different style, and a more innovative and creative form, of Midrash:
“Tanhuma midrash is less interested in terse exegetical comments and solutions and more interested in producing an elongated and continuous rewritten biblical narrative… these protests and retractions are not religiously neutral; they are theologically daring and potentially subversive, contrasting with the many rabbinic texts that prohibit one from challenging or critiquing the divine. In some traditional texts, God can never be mistaken or change an opinion in areas of justice and morality.” (Weiss 2015:91).
c) Thirdly, the surrounding cultural trends may have had a part to play in the emergence of this new genre of Tanchuma Yelamedeinu at that specific time (peaking around the seventh century) and place (Palestine). A surprisingly and culturally similar form of confrontational writing style developed between the fourth and sixth centuries by the Syriac Christians. They began to add “dramatic dialogues” and internal “disputes” (Brock 1979:44)[12] in the mouths of rivalling biblical figures.
d) Fourthly, and perhaps most significantly, the confrontational genre of Tanchuma Yelamedeinu may have had roots in Greco-Roman culture, specifically in the practice of Parrhesia (literally, ‘frankness of speech’). Frankness was valued over flattery, even if not so complimentary. Parrhesia promoted the right of each individual to express their own opinions, and to speak truth to power. From the first century, Parrhesia took on a specific moral connotation and emphasis. Significantly:
“In many Greek philosophical sources, parrhesia was used to refer to unequal relationships, such as between ruler and citizen…In fact, late antique emperors sought advisors who would be prepared, when necessary, to offer honest and critical advice. And the person who assumed this role, the parrhesiastes, became an exalted and celebrated figure in the Greco-Roman world” (Weiss 2015:93).
During the early centuries of the Common Era, it was the philosophers, particularly, who practised the “moral art of Parrhesia” (Weiss 2015:93). It was the philosophers’ role to direct and admonish the emperors. Later, during the fifth century, the philosopher was replaced by the Christian holy men, the bishops and the monks. They now used their moral authority to confront and guide the ruler and to ensure the downtrodden and the poor were treated fairly. Around this time a further development took place with the democratisation of Parrhesia:
“Parrhesia becomes the right and privilege of the [Christian] believer . . . [and] faith and suffering give [one] a right to speak out—even to God!” (Momigliano: 1973-4:262).[13]
Christians now had the right to speak out against, and reproach, not just their friends and rulers, but even G-d. Taking this notion of Parrhesia into account, and projecting these cultural influences on the contemporaneous Jewish community:
“This Byzantine phenomenon may provide us with a cultural parallel to the confrontational and concessional theme that emerges in late rabbinic literature. Palestinian Jews in the sixth and early seventh centuries did not have religious leaders perform parrhesia. They had no political power, and no emperors of their own…[and] through biblical interpretation, the TY’s [Tanchuma Yelamedeinu’s] authors were able to produce Jewish holy men who became veritable figures of parrhesia. Moses and other biblical heroes were now anachronistically imagined to have assumed these roles…These Jewish leaders championed the underprivileged, confronting the King of kings with unusual courage…[and] produced religious figures of parrhesia—not in the world of history, but in the world of the exegetical imagination” (Weiss 2015:94).
We know that these Greco-Roman ideas of Parrhessia must have percolated withing the rabbinic community because the Talmud adopts the notion, and even the Greek term of Parrhessia, with the well-known rabbinic concept of beFarhessia, which generally means an act committed in a "public space" usually associated with a brazen attitude.
Theological implications concerning G-d as ‘perfect
being’
The theological implications of this notion of human beings capable of ‘perfecting’ G-d’s morality are profound, and they should:
“move scholars to modify their assumption that the sages imagined God to be morally perfect “ (Weiss 2015:95).
Theurgy
Finally, texts like Tanchuma Yelamedeinu may have been the base texts for what was later to emerge in Kabbalah as the notion of theurgy. Yehuda Liebes (1993)[14] explains that theurgy is the almost magical process whereby a human being, by reciting specified words or performing certain deeds, can effect a change in the cosmos and even within the Godhead. This is why we find the rabbinic perception of G-d whose Shechina (Presence) goes into exile when the Jews go into exile. This way the actions of a human being are conceived as directly affecting the Divine Being who responds reciprocally and proportionally to the human input.
If Liebes is correct in his view that theurgy was already introduced into the rabbinic texts, this would present a challenge to Gershom Scholem who suggested that theurgy was only introduced to Jewish thought around the later medieval period.
In the theurgic model, G-d is directly affected by the thoughts, deeds and actions of humans. Michael Fishbane (2005)[15] shows how the Hebrew Bible presents G-d as one who affects, punishes and saves human beings ꟷ whereas the rabbinic literature begins to describe a G-d who is directly affected by the actions of human beings.
Moshe Halbertal (2009)[16] similarly shows how rabbinic literature often portrays G-d as the weaker party in the relationship, with G-d being portrayed as the wife, daughter and even the servant ꟷ compared to humans who are portrayed as the husband, parent, judge, and master. Humans represented as teaching morality to G-d is an example of the evolving status and power of the human component in the Divine-human equation.
Conclusion
The rabbis inverted the biblical hierarchy of G-d acting as
the dominant party. Rabbinic literature gave significant dominance to the role
of humans. This becomes particularly evident in the writings of Tanchuma
Yelamedeinu where the rabbis go so far as to suggest that humans
teach G-d morals and, therefore, humans have a significant and direct bearing (morally
and, by extension, theurgically) on the Divine being – thus inverting the traditional biblical hierarchy.
Further reading
(Note: In this linked article, I argued that most rabbinic
literature, surprisingly, supports the notion of the “Weak Dependence Theory”
where Jewish morality is conceptualised as not just originating from the Divine,
but from humans as well. I wrote this in 2022 before I had seen this research
by Dov Weiss. This is a pity because I would have loved to incorporate Weiss’
work in my article, as I believe it would support the “Weak Dependence Theory.” I think that for morality to be effective, it
has to be seen to primarily speak the language of humans for all people to
understand. Otherwise, each individual speaks in the defined and distinct
language and dialect of their G-dly morality that the other will never
understand.)
Kotzk
Blog: 425) Challenging G-d in rabbinic writings
[1]
Weiss, D., 2015, ‘Divine Concessions in the Tanhuma Midrashim’, Harvard
Theological Review 108:1, 70-97.
[2]
Zunz, L., 1954, Haderashot beYisra’el vehishtalshelutam hahistorit [Sermons
of the Jews in their historical development], translated by Chanoch
Albeck, Bialik, Jerusalem, 108–17.
[3]
Marc Bregman, M., 1991, Sifrut Tanhuma-Yelammedenu [The Tanhuma-Yelammedeunu
literature] (PhD dissertation, Hebrew University of Jerusalem).
[4]
The cases where the Torah describes G-d conceding to human challenges are found
in Exodus 32:14, Num 14:20, Exodus 32:14, and Amos 7:1–3.
[5]
“Hashem passed before him and proclaimed: “Hashem Hashem a God compassionate
and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending
kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and
sin—yet not remitting all punishment, but visiting the iniquity of parents upon
children and children’s children, upon the third and fourth generations’”
(Exodus 34:6-7).
וַיַּעֲבֹ֨ר ה ׳ עַל־פָּנָיו֮ וַיִּקְרָא֒
ה׳ ה׳ קֵל רַח֖וּם וְחַנּ֑וּן אֶ֥רֶךְ אַפַּ֖יִם וְרַב־חֶ֥סֶד וֶאֱמֶֽת׃
נֹצֵ֥ר חֶ֙סֶד֙ לָאֲלָפִ֔ים נֹשֵׂ֥א
עָוֺ֛ן וָפֶ֖שַׁע וְחַטָּאָ֑ה וְנַקֵּה֙ לֹ֣א יְנַקֶּ֔ה פֹּקֵ֣ד ׀ עֲוֺ֣ן אָב֗וֹת
עַל־בָּנִים֙ וְעַל־בְּנֵ֣י בָנִ֔ים עַל־שִׁלֵּשִׁ֖ים וְעַל־רִבֵּעִֽים׃
[6]
The verse from Deuteronomy seems to serve a similar purpose of the Ezekiel
verse, as both abolish intergenerational punishment.
[7]
Jacob Milgrom, J., 1999, Numbers, JPS Torah Commentary, Jewish
Publication Society, Philadelphia.
[8]
Some of these sins are mentioned in Gen 17:14; Exodus 12:15, 30:33, 30:38, 31:14;
Lev 7:20–21, 7:25, 7:27, 17:4, 17:9, 18:29, 19:8, 22:3; and Numbers 9:13, 15:30–31,
19:13, and 19:20.
[9]
Shemesh, A., 2003, Punishments and Sins: From Scripture to the Rabbis,
Magnes, Jerusalem.
[10] It must be noted that this idea that lashes take the place of the biblical death penalties is not the standard rabbinic position. The rabbis generally maintain that lashes can only substitute for Karet. Later, when Numbers Raba 5:4, which was a post-Tanchuma Yelamedeinu text from the eleventh or twelfth centuries, rewrote this Tanchuma text, it took the narative of the ‘gatherer or sticks’ out of the equation and “replaced the exemption of stoning[,] with the karet penalty[,] to bring the confrontational narrative in line with normative Jewish law” (Weiss 2015:83, footnote 53). The Numbers Raba text reads:
“When the Holy One blessed be He detailed for Moses the thirty-six instances of karet in the Torah, Moses said before the Holy One blessed be He: ‘Master of the universe, if a person sins in these, will he be eliminated in that way?’ The Holy One blessed be He said to him: ‘Let them be flogged forty lashes and thereby satisfy the obligation of their karet’ (Numbers Raba 5:4).
Nevertheless, this view that lashes replace the
biblical death sentences (and not only Karet) remains expressed in the Tanchuma
Yelamedeinu text.
[11]
Weinfeld, M., 1991, Deuteronomy 1–11: A New Translation with Introduction
and Commentary, Doubleday, New York, 173–78.
[12]
Brock, S., 1979,’The Dispute Poem: From Sumer to Syriac’, Bayn al-Nahrayn
7.28, 417-26.
[13]
Momigliano, A., 1973-4, ‘Freedom of Speech in
Antiquity’, in Dictionary of the History of Ideas: Studies of Selected
Pivotal Ideas, edited by Philip P. Wiener; 5 vols., Scribner’s Sons, New
York, 2:252–63.
[14]
Liebes, Y., 1993, Studies in Jewish Myth and Jewish Messianism, SUNY
Series in Judaica, State University of New York Press, Albany, 1–64.
[15]
Fishbane, M. A., 2005, Biblical Myth and Rabbinic Mythmaking, Oxford
University Press, Oxford, 160–73.
[16]
Halbertal, M., 2009, ‘If the Text Had Not Been Written, It Could Not Be Said’,
in Scriptural Exegesis: The Shapes of Culture and the Religious Imagination;
Essays in Honour of Michael Fishbane, Edited by Deborah A. Green and Laura
S. Lieber, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 146–61.
I believe Prof. Weiss might have mistranslated the Gemara in Makot: "Moshe **recorded** that [G-d] visits the inequities of the parents on the children."
ReplyDeleteThe actual text our our Gemara at least, is:
אמר ר' יוסי בר חנינא ארבע גזירות גזר משה רבינו על ישראל באו ארבעה נביאים וביטלום...משה אמר פוקד עון אבות על בנים בא יחזקאל וביטלה הנפש החוטאת היא תמות
The words "גזר משה רבינו" would seem to be far better rendered as "Moshe **decreed**". This would suggest that the original idea was Moshe's rather than God's. Therefore, the later nullification at the hands of Yechezkel wouldn't be at all an "attack" on God.
Thank you, Rabbi Clinton. I agree that Ex. 34:6-7 can indeed be a case of "Moshe decreed" (that children are punished for their parent's sins) - but the other source, Ex 29:5 (the Ten Commandments!) seems clearly to be G-d's decree.
ReplyDeleteBut even Ex. 34:6-7, if read in its plain sense, does not appear to be Moshe's speech. The Artscroll Stone Edition translates. "Hashem descended in a cloud...and He [G-d] called out with the Name Hashem." G-d, therefore, seems to the speaker in both instances.