Navigating the stormy seas of aggadah

Following dozens of pages of often complex and intricate legal analysis, Daf Yomi devotees might think they have earned some form of respite with the entertaining somewhat peculiar aggadic anecdotes recounted by Rabbah bar bar Channah. In truth, however, these aggadot present their own special set of challenges.

As Talmud Reclaimed comments in the chapter dedicated to contrasting the style, nature and purpose of aggadic and legal passages, these stories are so manifestly bizarre and exaggerated that they defy literal interpretation. They can only have been intended as parables that were drafted in such a manner as to impart some kind of deeper meaning. This leads the chapter into a broader analysis of the role of meshalim within Jewish learning and why the Talmud and midrashim have so often opted to present their teachings in the form of cryptic anecdotes rather than straightforward laws or advice.

Many of these stories, told by Rabbah bar bar Chana, describe seafaring adventures:

Rabbah [bar bar Chana] said: “Those who go down to sea told me that the wave which sinks a ship appears to have a fringe of white fire at its tip. But when one strikes it with a club upon which is engraved “Ehyeh asher Ehyeh…’, it subsides…”

Once we were going in a ship and we saw a certain fish. Sand settled on its back and a meadow sprouted upon it. We thought it was dry land and we went up and dwelled there and we baked and cooked on it. When its back became hot it turned over and, if not for the fact that the ship was nearby, we would have drowned.

The Vilna Gaon provides a systematic framework for showing how to interpret these tales and extract instructive messages from them. In short, the passage of a soul through this world is likened to a voyage across the sea. Seafarers do not intend to remain on sea for an extended period of time; the purpose of their trip is to acquire profitable merchandise which they can bring back home with them. So, too, is the soul’s journey through this world a voyage of limited duration, upon which it embarks with the intended purpose of acquiring merits to take with it to the World to Come. The ship corresponds to the body that transports the soul, while the waves that threaten the ship’s destruction are trials and tribulations that a person faces in this world.

arious challenges that tVhe seafarers face in these stories are identified as difficulties that people face in their lives. Thus in the first story the wave with white fire refers to the “burning” evil inclination that can sink the ship; this fire can only be overcome by drawing on the correct religious, spiritual or moral responses. In the second, the initially accommodating fish represents the superficial attraction of associating with the wicked, who lure people into their company. Reliance on such friendship, however, comes with the risk that it will ultimately disrupt one’s ability to bring back profitable merchandise. Indeed, it can even endanger a person’s life altogether.

Talmud Reclaimed notes how, in contrast to the legal rulings of the Talmud which remain fixed and binding for subsequent generations, the sages deliberately framed their aggadic teachings in a more flexible manner. This means that, even though such aggadot are often underpinned by one or more of the biblical injunctions, such as to love and fear God and to live a holy and ethical lifestyle, the specific methods through which these concepts are to be implemented can vary based on the era, society and set of character traits that people find themselves having to grapple with.

The question remains though as to how we are to determine the precise status, and therefore the authority and consequent credibility, of these flexible aggadic teachings. The very non-binding nature which allowed for their amendment and development in the post-Talmudic era also creates uncertainty as to their ability to act as an absolute guide to those seeking to follow the Torah’s teachings. Unlike clearcut laws, such as those concerning matzah or circumcision, which are fulfilled through specific actions, it is hard to determine the precise parameters of broader “aggadic” commandments such as loving and fearing God, walking in His ways and being honest and holy. This is not to say that they are less significant. Biblical verses from recently read portions emphasise the quintessential importance of these overarching laws:

What does the Lord your God ask of you, but that you fear the Lord your God, to walk in all His ways, to love Him and serve the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul, to observe the commandments and statutes of God?

Rather than signifying a lack of importance, the non-binding and flexible nature of aggadic teachings result from the fact that the commandments and wisdom to which they relate are deliberately framed in a flexible manner. This flexibility enables them to apply in various ways as between different individuals, societies and eras.

The mass of ethical advice and profound wisdom which is contained within aggadic passages is overwhelming and often confusing. By emphasising the great importance of such passages, yet framing them in flexible and non-binding form, the Talmud informs us that what the Torah demands is genuine engagement and grappling with its ethical teachings and concealed wisdom. It is the process of constantly seeking to improve one’s character, to purify one’s motives and to refine one’s understanding of theological difficulties which the Torah demands with its injunctions to love and fear God, be holy and walk in His ways. With regard to aggadah as opposed to law, the importance of active and genuine involvement in this process may outweigh any particular result that it achieves.

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The marah mitzvot: when can midrashim be treated as historical fact?

In recent years, the question of how to approach midrashic and aggadic teachings has often prompted heated debate in online Torah groups. Many contributors have grown up regarding Rashi as the primary commentary to the Chumash and are therefore strongly inclined to integrate such teachings into their understanding of the plain meaning of the text. Other peshat-enthusiasts will militantly push back against any midrashic interpretation – even when it presents itself as a historical tradition or legitimate attempt to understand an idiosyncrasy in the biblical text. 

Both Judaism Reclaimed and Talmud Reclaimed dedicate whole chapters to identifying different genres of midrash, and exploring how each has been treated by a range of traditional commentators. While instinctively my sympathies lie with the approach taken by the Rambam and Radak, which typically emphasises peshat without aggadic embellishment, I sometimes feel that enthusiasts take this too far – as an example from yesterday’s Torah reading will show. 

In a cryptic episode which follows the splitting of the sea, the parched Israelites discover water at Marah, but it turns out to be unpalatable. God instructs Moshe to cast wood into the water thereby making it drinkable, following which “He gave them a statute and an ordinance [chok umishpat]”. These terms are identical to those used elsewhere in the Torah to refer to the commandment, but there is no indication in the verses as to the nature or identity of the laws being conveyed.

An aggadic teaching, cited by Rashi, attempts to furnish the missing information:

“In Marah, He gave them some sections of the Torah so that they would busy themselves with them, namely the Sabbath, the red heifer, and laws of jurisprudence. — [from Mechilta and Sanh. 56b]” 

Writing in the third section (3:32) of Moreh Nevuchim, Rambam embraces this as a “true tradition”. Are we to suppose that Rambam possessed specific knowledge as to the historical accuracy of this teaching or does it perhaps represent a certain style of aggadah which calls out for a more literal rendering? 

There are definitely a number of textual indicators which support the historicity of this aggadah. First, in the subsequent passage concerning mannah, reference is made to a recently commanded law concerning Shabbat – despite there being no explicit mention of this anywhere in the text: 

“So he said to them, That is what God [previously] spoke, Tomorrow is a rest day, a holy Sabbath to the Lord.” [16:23] “See that the Lord has given you the Sabbath.” [16:29] 

An argument can also made from within the biblical text itself that some civil law and jurisprudence was already taught to the nation before being recorded in parashat Mishpatim. This might explain why Yitro observed the nation queuing from morning to evening for Moshe to settle disputes that had arisen between different people. Furthermore, as Rav Hirsch points out, the civil case law contained in Mishpatim are not basic rules and definitions. Rather it presents more complex scenarios which presuppose prior knowledge of primary legal principles such as duty of care, ownership and contracts. 

The most powerful indicator cited by Rambam, however, seems to be a passage in Yirmiyah (7:22-23): 

“For neither did I speak with your forefathers nor did I command them on the day I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning a burnt offering or a sacrifice. But this thing did I command them, saying: Obey Me so that I am your God and you are My people, and you walk in all the ways that I command you.” 

As explained by Rambam, these initial pre-Sinaitic teachings referred to by Yirmiyah contain God’s “primary intention” as taught at Marah; Shabbat which symbolically establishes the truth of God as Creator and civil laws which prohibit wrongdoing among the people. These are contrasted with sacrifices which were only taught later (seemingly as a secondary intention) in order to distance the Israelites from pagan belief and practice (for more on this read here).

It should be noted that the Marah midrash is certainly not the only occasion on which Rambam treats aggadic material as literal and historical. When it comes to the events surrounding Avraham’s early years and what qualified him to be addressed by God in such glowing terms at the start of Lech Lecha, Rambam relates in great detail – both in Mishneh Torah and Moreh Nevuchim – a summary of midrashim which describe his theological journey and battle with Nimrod. Perhaps on that occasion too, the midrash can be seen to be filling in a clear gap left unexplained by the biblical text. 

In fact, as Judaism Reclaimed explores, the real question may be why a matter of such fundamental importance is not including in the Torah’s account to begin with and left for the midrashim to supplement!

For more details visit www.TalmudReclaimed.com

First posted on Facebook 28 January 2024, here.