This week’s Torah portion, the combined Vayakhel-Pekudei is the final one of the Book of Exodus. Thematically, it begins with Shabbat and quickly follows with instructions on the building of the Mishkan (There are a lot of instructions).
However, what I want to talk about is our relationship to Torah.
What does it mean when something is or is not mentioned in the text? What are the implications?
As rabbinic Jews, we draw on the wisdom of our rabbinic ancestors. We do this, in part, through the sources they’ve left behind, like the Mishnah and the Talmud.
Even though we’ve talked Talmud for many months, let’s do a short definition:
The Talmud is a combination of the Mishnah, from the second century or so, and the Gemara, the Amoraic discussion on the Mishnah in the subsequent centuries.
Edited together by later rabbis, the Talmud is given to us as a combination book of laws, stories, legends, explanations, midrashim, pedagogy, and a myriad of other kinds of literature all rolled into one.
The Mishnah isn’t interested in all of that so much but rather wants to give you the rules to follow. The Gemara unpacks those Mishnayot to uncover what is there.
Now, let’s zero in on one particular Mishnah.
This one, found in Masechet Hagigah, about festival offerings, reveals a powerful self-awareness of the rabbis and a peek of transparency in what they knew to be true about Torah:
MISHNA: The halakhot regarding the] dissolution of vows fly in the air and have nothing to support them, as they are not quoted specifically in the Torah.
The halakhot of Shabbat, Festival peace-offerings, and misuse of consecrated property are like mountains suspended by a hair, as they have little written about them in the Torah, and yet the details of their halakhot are numerous.
The details of monetary law, sacrificial rites, ritual purity and impurity, and the halakhot of those with whom relations are forbidden all have something to support them, i.e., there is ample basis in the Torah for these halakhot, and these are the essential parts of Torah.
The Mishnah describes two categories of halakhot (loosely translated as Jewish laws) via metaphor.
First, laws that are not well supported in the Torah but contain many details. They fly in the air without support or are like mountains hanging by a hair. The mountain represents the details, and the hair represents our biblical support.
Not quite what we might expect from the Rabbis, suggesting that the laws don’t have strong support in the text! How might we navigate this complex relationship with the laws? Do we have to follow them? What kind of support do they have? What are the implications here about rabbinic power?
Second, some laws are well supported, like those of sacrifices and ritual purity laws. Not only that, they are “essential” or, more literally, translated from the Mishnah, “the body of the Torah.”
When we think about essential Jewish laws, I generally think of Shabbat (which is in the other category), Kashrut, holidays, and prayer, all three of which are conspicuously missing here.
What does this Mishnah tell us about rabbinic thought? How does the Gemara deal with these issues?
It begins with this:
GEMARA: It is taught in a baraita that Rabbi Eliezer said: The halakhot of the dissolution of vows have something to support them, as it is stated: “When a man shall clearly utter a vow” (Leviticus 27:2), and: “When either man or woman shall clearly utter a vow” (Numbers 6:2), i.e., the words “clearly utter” appear twice.
One clear utterance is for prohibition, i.e., when one states his intention to accept the vow, and one clear utterance is for dissolution, when he provides the Sage with a reason why the vow should no longer apply. This is an allusion in the Torah to the annulment of vows.
The Gemara, edited by later rabbis, is careful not to disagree with the Tannaim explicitly. They attempt to smooth out the rough spots and do what they need to disagree without suggesting the Tannaim were wrong.
Here, we see the Gemara bring a teaching from another Tanna in a baraita to reject the idea that the dissolution of vows is without biblical support. They quote a few verses with the premise that “clearly utter,” used twice is meant to establish the existence of both the vow and its dissolution.
The Gemara continues with three additional arguments.
Rabbi Yehoshua likewise says: These halakhot have something to support them, as it is stated: “Wherefore I swore in My wrath” (Psalms 95:11), meaning: In my wrath I swore, and I retracted.
Rabbi Yehoshua argues that the idea that one makes a vow in anger and later regrets it points to the idea that such a vow is dissolvable.
Rabbi Yitzḥak says: These halakhot have something to support them, as it is stated: “Whoever is of a willing heart, let him bring it” (Exodus 35:5).
Rabbi Yitzchak, quoting from our Torah portion, argues that one who enters into a vow willingly can also be absolved of it willingly thereby suggesting that dissolution is possible.
Ḥananya, son of Rabbi Yehoshua’s brother, also says: They have something to support them, as it is stated: “I have sworn, and have fulfilled it, to observe your righteous ordinances” (Psalms 119:106).
Hananya, the son of Rabbi Yehoshua’s brother, argues that the usage of the word fulfilled means that there are vows that can be left unfulfilled and, therefore, can be dissolved.
In each of these cases, the argument is… fine.
They aren’t the most solid arguments, but I think each of them has merit. However, here’s the kicker:
Rav Yehuda said that Shmuel said: If I had been there, sitting with those Sages, I would have said to them: My source is better than yours…
I love this. Shmuel, a later sage, doesn’t exactly say that the Tannaim are wrong, but he gets close. The chutzpah of this guy. So what is his source?
…as it is stated: “He shall not nullify his word” (Numbers 30:3), from which it may be inferred: A person cannot nullify their word by themselves; however, others, may nullify it for them by dissolving their vow.
This argument, in Shmuel’s defense, is a pretty strong one. It talks about nullifying vows in the verse. If Shmuel was sitting there, I bet they’d agree.
Then, his colleague says:
Rava said: For all of the suggested sources for the dissolution of vows there is a possible refutation, except for that of Shmuel, for which there is no refutation.
And I think this is part of unraveling this whole discussion.
Rava continues by throwing a rhetorical wrench into each of the arguments and concludes where he started, Shmuel’s argument is the best. The point gets summarized with this:
Rav concludes. However, for Shmuel’s source there is no refutation.
Rava said, and some say it was Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak who said: This explains the folk saying that people say: One spicy pepper is better than a basketful of squash, as the single pepper has more flavor than all the squash combined.
One spicy pepper is better than a basketful of squash. Yup, I’m absolutely adding that to my list of new sayings.
Here’s the point:
The rabbis inherited a tradition and adapted it.
The world they received and the sources they had contained limitations and frustrations.
The Tannaim (rabbis of the Mishnaic period) and their successors knew that some parts of the Jewish life they were creating didn’t have strong textual support, but they knew it to be important.
Shabbat, one of the most important aspects of Jewish life, is but a mountain hanging from a hair.
What does this mean for our observance of Shabbat? Honestly, I don’t know. I can tell you that observing Shabbat makes my life better, more meaningful, and more grounded. Does it matter if it is a mountain hanging from a string?
Perhaps recognizing this truth gives us opportunities to be more creative with our observance than we thought? Or the invitation to dig deeper to create stronger linkages to our source material, like the Tanakh?
The rabbis fundamentally understood that Judaism was always evolving, growing, and changing, just like us. Personally, this inspires, encourages, and invites me closer to this Tradition.