“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.