“Praiseworthy are You Talmidei Chachamim” – Self-Definition, Torah Study, and Jewish Martyrdom
“Praiseworthy are You Talmidei Chachamim”
Self-Definition, Torah Study, and Jewish Martyrdom
Yaakov Jaffe
There is a unique genre of video on youtube, facebook, or twitter, featuring Yeshivah students of a wide variety of ages, locations, and types of dress singing the song “Ashreichem Talmidei Chachamim” while standing or dancing around the Beit Midrash of their school or Yeshivah. The song, often also heard at wedding, praises the portion of students of Torah scholars with the following words:
Praiseworthy are you, O students of the wise,
As words of Torah are exceedingly beloved[1] to you.
How much do I love Your [=G-d’s] Torah,
All day long she is my speech.
The words of the song are a quote from the Talmud (Menachot 18a, with the last two lines, themselves, being a quote from Psalms 119:97), and the implication of the song is that those that sing it (or those that dance at the wedding when it is sung) have achieved the status of Torah scholars and are aptly described as those for whom the words of Torah are “exceedingly beloved.” The song exists as a quasi-performative, self-definitional, transformational act, as the singing of the words, themselves, confer a status and title upon those whom it is sung about.
Like many other Hebrew songs, this quote from the Talmud is taken out of context, and consequently it disguises what exactly are the conditions to consider Torah to be “exceedingly beloved” to someone. The context is fascinating, and it provides necessary insight for the understanding of this song.
Thought-Based Invalidations of Temple Sacrifices
Tractate Menachot is a challenging Tractate, one of the dozen longest, studied through the Daf Yomi and in elite sub-groups of elite schools of Torah study; it is not for the faint of heart. While some of the very lengthy Talmudic tractates are frequently studied on account of their contribution to the practice of Jewish ritual and family law (Shabbat, Chullin, Psachim, Yevamot and Ketubot), and others as they are vital for building the principles of community and social law (the three Bavot), Menachot is lengthy and on the whole not particularly relevant for contemporary Jewish life and practice.
The first 18 pages are the hardest part of the Tractate, focused less on the Korban Mincha, itself, but more on thought-based invalidations of a Korban Mincha, a Mincha that becomes invalid because of the intentions the Kohein had when performing the sacrifice. Large parts of Menachot are concrete as they involve the process of the offering and real-world errors made while performing the sacrifice; the first dozen-and-a-half pages are formal, where the sacrifice looks no different from how it always looks but may be invalidated on account of improper thoughts. In these cases, even if the sacrifice was physically offered exactly as required, it might still be invalid because of the ruinous intent.
Much of the discussion focuses on invalidations that are at least alluded to in the Bible: “Pigul,” intent to eat or burn the sacrifice at the wrong time, or “Lo Leshmah,” intent for the action to find favor as a different sacrifice type than required by the owner or a different sacrifice substance. The long, challenging discussion concludes with another type of thought-based invalidation, so rare that is only discussed in two pages in the entire Talmud, and never in the Bible commentaries or Midrash Halacha, intent to leave over the sacrificial substances of the sacrifice unused indefinitely. Leaving over the eaten part of a sacrifice, “Notar,” is discussed in the Torah and frequently in the Talmud; leaving over the sacrificial substances is not discussed beyond Menachot 18a and Zevachim 36a. Intent to sacrifice sacrificial substances on the wrong day, “Pigul,” is discussed in the Torah and frequently in the Talmud; intent to leave over sacrificial substances indefinitely, never to be used, is not discussed beyond Menachot 18a and Zevachim 36a.
In the final outcome, intent to leave over blood un-sprinkled until the next day does not invalidate a sacrifice according to the majority opinion, and so Rambam rules (Psulei Ha-Mukdashim 13:8). The focus of Menachot 18a is how Yosef Ha-Bavli was interested in exploring the question, nevertheless. Few realize that this often-sung tune is grounded in an esoteric, arcane sub-sub-topic of sacrificial law, irrelevant to daily practice, rejected in the final halachic conclusion, disconnected from the Biblical text, and regarding largely settled law, which still bothered the praiseworthy student of the wise, Yosef Ha-Bavli.
Who was Yosef Ha-Bavli?
Yosef Ha-Bavli is known for one teaching regarding a Kohen in mourning or who had not yet offered his post-impurity sacrifices who burned a red heifer (Tosefta Para 4:3, cited in Zevachim 117b and Yevamot 74a). The Talmud (Psachim 113b, Yoma 52b) says that he was also known by a number of pseudonyms which would increase the number of teachings associated with his name from one to a handful; whether the Talmudic teaching should be taken literally is outside the scope of this essay (but see Tosafot and Aruch La-Ner, Nidda 36b and Hyman, Toldot Tanaim Ve-Amoraim, 152). Yosef Ha-Bavli is not unique among the sages for having composed many Mishnayot, having taught many students, having mastered much Torah, or possessing deep insight; what makes him unique is precisely his care and concern for this rather esoteric topic. Yosef Ha-Bavli was a grand-student of Rebbi Akiva, and so appears to have lived in the late 2nd century, just around the time of the publication of the Mishnah. Any law related to thought-based invalidations had not been relevant for a century when he lived, and was a detailed, theoretical question about a Temple that was fading from memory.
In his youth, Yosef Ha-Bavli had learned from his teacher, Rebbi Yehudah, that a Kohein’s intent to leave blood un-sprinkled indefinitely invalidates a sacrifice. Yet, as he grew older, Yosef Ha-Bavli only heard discussions of the opinion of the other rabbis that it was valid. One Shabbat, he sat before Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua, who taught him evening, morning, and midday that it was valid, in accordance with the majority opinion. “Afternoon he said to him ‘It is Kosher, but Rebbi Yehudah says it is invalid.’ Yosef Ha-Bavli’s face brightened from joy… ‘Rebbi Yehudah taught me that it was invalid,[2] and I went after all his students and searched for a colleague [who had the same recollection as me] and did not find one. Now that you taught me ‘invalid’ you have returned to me my lost object.’ ”
Seeing this scene, Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua burst into tears of joy and commented how beloved Torah was for Yosef Ha-Bavli. Note, however, that it was not Yosef Ha-Bavli’s application of Torah, mastery of Torah, or even mere study of Torah that earned him praise, it was the passionate, deep connection to Torah that led him for years to travel, ask, and search for a sage that confirmed Yosef Ha-Bavli’s studies of his own youth. Torah is exceedingly beloved when one passes by day from land to land, asking, inquiring, confirming the exact details of every possible law. Learning the daily practical Halacha or the parsha is not evidence of a passionate, intimate relationship a scholar has with Torah; being madly driven to confirm every last piece of minutia that one has ever learned does. That is what means for the Torah to be exceedingly beloved, in the view of the author of the text of the song, Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua.
Who was Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua?
We have demonstrated how the identity of the object of the quote, the Talmid Chacham Yosef Ha-Bavli, and the context of the conversation, thought based invalidations, is crucial in understanding the meaning of the quote in question. Knowing the background of the speaker, Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua, is also vital.
Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua was a student of Rebbi Akiva (Yeavmot 62b), and so he lived through a number of challenging times, including the various Roman persecutions which followed the Bar Kochva revolt and the death of Rebbi Akiva’s earlier generation of students. A teacher of Rebbi (Yoma 79b, Eiruvin 53a), he was an important bridge figure between two different illustrious ages of sages of the Mishnah who lived an unusually long life (Megillah 27b). Sanhedrin 14a relates that Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua was ordained by Rebbi Yehudah ben Bava just before the latter was martyred by the Romans for having perpetuated the chain or ordination. He is a critical figure in the perpetuation of the tradition, and his eyes witnessed how close the tradition was to being lost.[3]
Moreover, the Midrash[4] and liturgy (Tisha B-Av’s Kinah “Arzei Ha-Levanon,” and Yom Kippur’s Slicha “Eileh Ezkera” [Reish]) count Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua among the 10 Martyrs, in which case he was the last of the 10 great sages who lost their lives Al Kiddush Hashem, for no reason other than the fact that they were Jewish. According to these sources, Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua died at the start of Shabbat, while in the middle of reciting Kiddush; his soul departed while performing a Mitzvah.
The costs of living a life of a Talmid Chacham are much lower today than they were in the past. Jews across the globe live without fear of persecution for their Torah study and the financial stability of our community means that Jews who study Torah are mostly free of the fear of financial distress that may have been felt in the past. Yet, speaking just before the year 200 and knowing the dramatic cost of being a Torah scholar, Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua proclaimed how praiseworthy Yosef Ha-Bavli was for his dedication to Torah, a statement that he would not make cavalierly or apply to just anyone who studied Torah in a situation of basic security.
By Choice or by Necessity?
Today’s Torah scholars become Torah scholars by choice; they enjoy Torah study, feel nourished by, see its value, and are prodded and supported by a community to embrace that avocation. Rebbi Eleazar ben Shamua was a Torah scholar by necessity – perpetuating a chain nearly lost, which would not have survived were it not for his dedication, and for which he eventually was murdered. Yosef Ha-Bavli, too, felt similarly, the heart within himself burning for decades as he passed from land to land desperate with agony to substantiate the teachings of the earlier sages. He didn’t choose to study the esoteric, complicated details of thought-based-temple-invalidations because he found it enjoyable, meaningful, applicable, or valuable, but because of an obsession and a dedication to both the truths of the Torah and to the concept of the tradition.
Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua doesn’t cry because of happiness that a student of his made a good choice to dedicate himself to Torah. Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua cries because he sees the perseverance of the Torah and the legacy of the tradition even through challenging times, even decades after the Temple’s destruction, through the selfless dedication of students of the wise.[5] Indeed, had Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua not lived so long, and had Yosef Ha-Bavli not persevered to ask him the same question four times that one Shabbat, the teaching of Rebbi Eliezer might have been lost to Judaism for all of time and never have made its way into the Talmud. 100 years and one long summer Shabbat were needed to preserve one detail of Torah and ready it for inclusion in the Talmud. And so, this is less a song for a wedding feast, as the words of Rebbi Elazar the martyr leave one of sense forlorn. It’s a song of dedication and commitment to Torah, not a song of joy and happiness.
In the words of the Chazon Ish (Emunah U-Bitachon 3:20):
The words of are sages are like fine oil which descends upon the bones to excite the hearts towards the love of Torah, and to enjoy the luster of its delight, until the soul of Yosef Ha-Bavli wasted away having lost one law, such that his face brightened upon the intense happiness in having his lost object returned. And the enthusiasm of Rebbi Elazar upon his affection to his student, that he cried tears of happiness and pleasure of the luster of being exact in one’s learning.[6]
Those are the Talmidei Chachamim, and praiseworthy are they.
[1] We translate “exceedingly beloved” based on how the way Rashi uses the word “Chibah” to indicate a deep, intimate connection between two subjects; for Rashi it is not it is not merely a word which indicates liking, appreciating, or enjoyment of an object by its subject. See Rashi’s Bible commentary: Bereishit 18:18, 22:11, 33:2; Shemot 1:1, 15:17, 19:5; Vayikra 1:1; Bamidbar 10:31, 14:14, 23:21, 29:36; Devarim 1:15, 2:16, 33:3; Shmuel 1:1:7, Tehillim 105:22, Shir Ha-Shirim 1:1, 4:10, 6:5; Talmud commentary Ketubot 75a, 96a.
In Rabbinic Literature, the word “Chaviv” is often used in the context of the strong emotional connection one feels towards the preservation of one’s own body, see the famous Brayta of Rebbi Eliezer: Brachot 61b Psachim 25a, Yoma 82a, Sanhedrin 74a; the ironic reversal when considering the righteous Sota 12a, and as variations of this Bava Batra 110a. “Beloved” is also the best translation of the word in Shabbat 105a. The word is translated “like” or “want” in Brachot 39a, Sanhedrin 8a and Bava Kama 117b, so the translation in Menachot cannot be established with absolute certainty.
[2] Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua explains that Rebbi Yehudah had heard this view from his father, Rebbi Ilay, who heard it from the late and post second temple period sage Rebbi Eliezer, but that the other rabbis disagreed with this view. In any event, one can sketch the chain of transmission of this idea as follows: Rebbi Eliezer taught Rebbi Ilay around the year 100, who then taught his son Rebbi Yehudah around the year 130, who taught Yosef Ha-Bavli around the year 160, who then had the view confirmed close to the year 190 by Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua.
Our presentation above simplifies the Talmudic discussion in some measure for simplicity’s sake. In truth, the Talmud supposes that though Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua generally supported Yosef Ha-Bavli’s memory, there was a discrepancy between the two presentations. Yosef Ha-Bavli may have learned a different nuance from Rebbi Yehudah, that all Tannaim agree that it is invalid, both Rebbi Eliezer and his colleagues. Still other rabbis believed that Rebbi Eliezer and his colleagues all agreed that it was valid. For Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua, the question was a debate between Rebbi Eliezer and the other rabbis.
[3] Understanding his life story and his role in perpetuating a tradition can also help explain his teaching in Pirkei Avot (4:15) “Rebbi Elazar ben Shamua said: the honor of your student should be exceedingly important (Chaviv) upon you like your own, and the honor of your friend like fear of your teacher, and fear of your teacher like fear of Heaven.” The tradition survives through students and teachers, through the Rebbi Yehudah ben Bava’s and Yosef Ha-Bavli’s of Jewish history.
[4] Midrash Asarah Harugei Malchut in Judah Eisenstein, Ozar Midrashim (New York, 1915), 448. His death does not appear in other Midrashim, however, and so others doubt that he was one of the 10 Martyrs, see Alter Welner, Asarah Harugei Malchut Be-Midrash U-Be-Piyut, (Jerusalem, 2005), 80-84. Even if he was not a martyr himself, he was the student of martyrs and a Rabbi who spanned multiple generations of Torah study.
[5] Perhaps he even also cries for his dead teachers and colleagues, simultaneously sad for the parts of the Mesorah lost to the persecutions, while also happy for the parts that still live on.
[6] The Hebrew phrase used, “Mitzuy midot,” is borrowed from the idiom for allowing liquids to settle in a liquid measure, in a way resembling squeezing them (as in Vayikra 1:15). In that context it indicates an exactness and a precision because the measurement is more precise after the liquid has settled. As a metaphor, it is used here to mean being exact about learning, and to clarify things that are not clear.
16 thoughts on ““Praiseworthy are You Talmidei Chachamim” – Self-Definition, Torah Study, and Jewish Martyrdom”
Thank you for this. However, I feel it important to challenge an assertion you make when what appears to me, little evidence. Early on, you say that people singing this are claiming the title of Talmid Chochom for themselves and thus engaging in self laudatory behaviour.
You don’t provide evidence for this motive.
It could be suggested that they sing for numerous reasons. It could be in honour on the Rabbonim there, as it has become common for a chosson to invite his Rosh Yeshivah / Rebbi. It could be aspirational, sung to encourage high achievement. It could be other reasons.
Just thought I would point that out.
Agree with the first comment from BG. I’ve heard this song a zillion times and it never would have occurred to me that it’s a reference to the singers themselves, and I see no reason to think the people who sing it think any different.
In general, this whole post is overly nitpicky, IMHO. When you’re making something into a song, a general consistency with the broad ideas of the source suffices, and pointing out differences in nuance is not a valid criticism.
Thank you for the erudite and interesting article. I agree with the previous commenters that the nature of singers’ precise intents is debatable; however, the content of the discussion is worthy of a seforim blog post.
While on the topic of popular songs whose words are misunderstood by contemporary singers, a clear example is, הנה ימים באים נאם השם והשלחתי רעב בארץ לא רעב ללחם ולא צמא למים כי אם לשמע את דברי השם.
While almost everyone singing it understands it to be about people’s desire for Torah flourishing again at the end of days, and even allusions to the modern Teshuva movement; the verse in context at Amos Chapter 8 clearly means the complete opposite – that at the end of days there will be a famine in the land for the word of G-d, it will be nowhere to be found, and the people will be faint with weakness for lack of it (see the rest of the chapter).
In this case, people are obviously singing it with the former, technically incorrect understanding, since singing it with the latter, correct translation in mind so passionately, beautifully and enthusiastically at the very many kumzitses in which it appears, makes little sense.
Part of the confusion stems from the fact that the modern English words ‘hunger’ and ‘thirst’ can be used interchangeably as both nouns and verbs, while the Hebrew words ru’uv and tzum’uh are only nouns, and take different forms as verbs.
That’s an old story. Another example of this would be איש את רעהו יעזרו ולאחיו יאמר חזק (ישעיה מא,ו)
But the subject of this post is a pretty innocuous instance.
Among other corrections, the word “avocation” in this post should be changed to “vocation,” as the pursuit of Torah mastery is certainly not a mere hobby.
This article reeks of שנאת עמי הארץ
I know Rabbi Jaffe personally, he has been a friend of mine for many years, and I can assure you that he is a talmid chacham, and he seeks truth in many areas in learning. This is obvious to anyone who knows him or is familiar with his writings. Here is but one example of his scholarship that I think makes the point, there are many more that you could find if you had bothered to look.
https://hakirah.org/Vol%207%20JaffeShabtai.pdf
I don’t want this to devolve into a discussion of him personally, but you wrote an unwarranted personal attack that should not go unanswered.
My comment was directed on the content and tone of the article, I’m unfamiliar with the author.
I suggest spending less time with Facebook and Youtube dance videos and instead become acquainted with authentic Torah scholars who personify דברי תורה חביבין עליכם ביותר.
If this author is a Talmid Chacham, he is not acting in the way of a Talmid Chacham. He seems to desperately seek to find fault in others.
Few realize that this often-sung tune is grounded in an esoteric, arcane sub-sub-topic of sacrificial law, irrelevant to daily practice, rejected in the final halachic conclusion, disconnected from the Biblical text, and regarding largely settled law, which still bothered the praiseworthy student of the wise, Yosef Ha-Bavli.
How does he know what they realize? Why does he think that people don’t appreciate the Chachma of a Talmid Chacham who studies arcane topics and finds them important, just because they are Hashem’s word? Much of what we learn in Yeshiva is not relevant, and certainly not immediately relevant. It is only because we believe this knowledge is important, because we know that this is Hashem’s word, because we appreciate that the world depends on correct Torah learning, that we invest time, effort, and money into understanding this Torah.
Nice vort, but quite speculative. The biographical data you mention of R. Eliezer ben Shamua, a well-known figure, seems only tenuously related at best to this particular incident, more correlative than causative. The polemical overtones are also pretty heavy handed, and, in my opinion, not justified.
Still a good vort, you bring out Yosef Habavli’s בקוש האמת nicely.
Two other examples come to mind of taking a pasuk out of context and mistakenly applying them across the board.
1. שֶׁהֵם מִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לְהֶבֶל וְרִיק וּמִתְפַּלְלִים אֶל אֵל לא” יושִׁיעַ” Yehoshua said this to strengthen the faith of the Jewish people as they were about to invade and encounter the 7 Nations, not as something to walk around thinking about all day – especially if you’re not out in the general world anyway!
2. עֲמֵלִים וְאֵינָם מְקַבְּלִים שָׂכָר. אָנוּ רָצִים וְהֵם רָצִים. אָנוּ רָצִים לְחַיֵּי הָעוֹלָם הַבָּא, וְהֵם רָצִים לִבְאֵר שַׁחַת
Dovid Hamelech said this about people who were pursuing him, and trying to kill him, not because he was making a siyum and wanted to get in a smug, self-satisfied dig at the rest of the humanity.
Food for thought.
Not sure I understand you. The verse you cite is part of the standard liturgy said when making a siyum, not some contemporary Jewish pop culture.
Are you saying that the standard universal and long-standing custom of saying these verses at a siyum is a “a smug, self-satisfied dig at the rest of the humanity”?
“The verse you cite is part of the standard liturgy said when making a siyum, not some contemporary Jewish pop culture.”
True, but it’s the same point. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s meaning in the context of a siyum has nothing to do with what Dovid meant when he said those words.
“Are you saying that the standard universal and long-standing custom of saying these verses at a siyum is a “a smug, self-satisfied dig at the rest of the humanity”?”
That’s what many people take it as – I have heard many speeches at siyumim that do just that. Which is ironic, considering the above.
You’re assuming that Yehoshua wrote Aleinu. The fact that those very words are from Yishaya would seem to argue against that. Aleinu was written for the Rosh Hashana Musaf and then migrated outwards.
The siyum is not talking about the “rest of humanity,” it explicitly refers to the corner-sitters- who can of course include Jews.
You speak in lofty terms of the fire burning in Yosef’s heart for Torah, but later on state with cold authority that the Torah statement in question was not meaningful, enjoyable, nor valuable to him. Your great put-down of the budding Torah scholars of today is that… they learn because its MEANINGFUL to them. The NERVE! SURELY its better to learn out of necessity alone!
You’ve worked yourself into a romantic frenzy on the great tragedies and travels of Elazar ben Shamua and Yosef, in the meantime seeming to forget the words of the statement itself. “The words of the Torah are exceedingly precious and dear to them”- this strongly addresses the deep spiritual connection, indeed the fire in their hearts for Torah. Let the scholars sing, let the scholars dance, let them hope and let them dream, let them aspire to be amongst the praised.
If I were to play psychologist, I would almost say it seems you feel personally attacked by their happiness and song. Perhaps you feel they don’t recognize you as a scholar too. Please, open your mind and heart. You are witnessing something beautiful, something eternal. You are watching the next step in the unbroken chain that Yosef upheld centuries ago. Let yourself be lifted and inspired in the song, let it be a reaffirmation of your commitment and love to the Torah, as it is for them.
I truly marvel at one who can gaze on such a moment and have such a negative takeaway.
As a general thought, before putting down today’s Torah scholars, consider that each generation has its own challenges. Perhaps money is less of an issue, but spiritually the battle has only grown stronger. There is no reason to assume our Torah learning to be worth less to our G-d than the Torah of long ago.
I leave with a verse that applies to all of us
רחצו הזכו הסירו רע מעלליכם מנגד עיני חדלו הרע
Besides Chulin, Menachos is the most relevant Maseches in Kodshim.
Hilchos Tefillin, Tzitzis, Stam, and Sefiras Ha’omer are there.
More relevant than Zevachim, Meilah, or Kerisus.