Jewish Macho
Chapter 4, Mishna 1(a)
By Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld
"Ben (the son of) Zoma said, who is wise? He who learns from all
people, as
it is said: 'From all those who taught me I gained understanding' (Psalms
119:99). Who is strong? He who conquers his evil inclination, as it is
said: 'Better is one slow to anger than a strong man, and one who rules
over his spirit than a conqueror of a city' (Proverbs 16:32). Who is rich?
He who is satisfied with his lot, as it is said: 'When you eat the toil of
your hands you are fortunate and it is good for you' (Psalms 128:2). 'You
are fortunate' -- in this world; 'and it is good for you' -- in the World
to Come. Who is honored? He who honors others, as it is said: 'For those
who honor Me will I honor, and those who scorn Me will be degraded' (I
Samuel2:30)."
This week's mishna contains such sound words of wisdom, profound in their
simplicity, that it hardly needs my embellishment. But I have to earn my
weekly paycheck, so here goes... (Actually, I do this for free. ;-) (But
I try to be rich according to our Mishna's definition (sigh).)
The author of our mishna is Shimon ben Zoma. He is referred to by his
father's name alone because he died at an early age or without having
received rabbinical ordination (Rashi, see also Talmud Chagiga 14b).
"Who is wise? He who learns from all people:" At its simplest level, the
message is that one who seeks wisdom wherever it may be found is the one
most likely to acquire it. He or she is willing to ask anyone and everyone.
He is not so conscious of his own reputation as to refuse to "lower"
himself to seek knowledge of someone not as important or credentialed as
he. The Talmud writes that the Torah student who humiliates himself before
others in order to understand the Torah (by asking his rabbi "stupid"
questions and the like) will eventually be elevated on account of his
Torah knowledge (Berachos 63b). (As an internet teacher, I know how many
people begin their e-mails with: "I'm sure this is a stupid question,
but..." Those are the ones who will not long be so "stupid". The ones too
ashamed to admit their ignorance will be forced to wallow in it.)
The commentator Rabbeinu Yonah writes further that when a person inquires
wisdom of everyone, it indicates that he or she has a love of knowledge.
His thirst will take him to every person and every place; it will not be
quenched until he has drunk his fill. Such a person may be considered wise
even before he has studied, since his desire will soon lead him on the
straight path towards scholarship.
There is a deeper insight into ben Zoma's words. Why is learning from
*everyone* so crucial for accomplishment in Torah? Isn't it true that some
people just don't know as much as others? Should we really be spending time
trying to glean bits of information from the unlearned when we would make
much better use of our time studying ourselves or from our teachers?
The answer lies in the true understanding of the Torah's definition of
wisdom. When G-d commanded us to study His Torah, it was not just a matter
of memorizing dry facts and information. That could be gained from texts
and book knowledge alone. We would never need to bother interacting with
anyone else (thereby interrupting our own study time). Rather, Torah study
at its highest level is the understanding of the *application* of the
Torah's principles to real people and real life situations -- how do the
Torah's eternal truths apply to the human condition. G-d's wisdom is
eternal, yet no two people are precisely alike and relate to the Torah in
precisely the same manner. Every one of us has his own perspective, his
own life story, and his own unique personality. Each of us will see a
slightly different message in the Torah, and will have his or her own
fresh insight into its beauty and relevance.
Therefore, the Torah scholar cannot *really* understand the Torah if he
does not comprehend what it means to another human being. By my very
nature, I cannot understand the Torah in every sense it has to convey. I
am bound by my own perspective, my own background, my own intellectual
capacities, and my own way of thinking. And the Torah is far too profound
and all-encompassing to be fully fathomed by any single individual, no
matter how wise. I must branch out; I must attempt to understand what the
Torah means to my fellow -- what are the other equally-valid methods of
relating to truth. I must grow out of my own shell. When I realize that
truth is far more composite and multifaceted than it appears to me -- that
black-and-white to me may be shades-of-gray to my fellow -- I am ready to
truly become wise.
There is a Midrash which states that there is one letter in the Torah for
every single Jew. Every one of us has his own unique understanding of the
Torah and his own angle on truth. No one has the monopoly on the word of
G-d. And only when the student of the Talmud is prepared to grow out of his
own limited perspective and view the Big Picture, has he truly embarked on
the path of Wisdom.
"Who is strong? He who conquers his evil inclination:" Our mishna tells us
that strength should not be measured in physical might and fighting
ability, but in restraint and the controlling of one's passions. Rabbeinu
Yonah observes that ben Zoma -- as seen from the verse he quotes -- does
not even entertain that physical strength might be the determinant of a
man's might. Human beings rate pretty low as far as that's concerned.
Being one of the weakest, slowest (relative to our size), most delicate
(in terms of what our stomachs can take, extreme temperature endurance,
etc.), longest to mature of the animal kingdom, we have very little to
brag about. G-d did not seem to invent us as His wondrous masterpieces of
grace, strength or endurance. If we see ourselves as nothing more than
physical specimens -- if our self-image is based on our macho -- we are
trading in the far higher goals G-d has in mind for us for something which
just does not fit the spec's.
The quoted verse does, however, contrast one who is slow to anger to a
warrior. (R. Yonah understands the "strong man" of the quoted verse to mean
a soldier.) Warriors at least exhibit some level of bravery and
self-discipline. A soldier who can survive basic training and endure harsh
battle conditions, a commander who can orchestrate a military campaign --
such individuals demonstrate true valor -- of character as well as of body.
(One cannot help but notice the high proportion of presidents and national
leaders who preceded their political careers with successful military
careers (a recent notable exception aside -- he was an exception to a lot
of things ;-) . My sense is that this is only in part due to the heroics
associated with military distinction. The voting public may also have a
sense that someone who has the necessary self-discipline and strength of
character to run a battalion may just have the super-discipline required to
run a country.)
To this ben Zoma states that nothing matches willpower. True strength is
that of the spirit; that of the body is different in kind. "Passive"
behavior -- not losing one's cool when the kids are infuriating, holding
oneself back when insulted, resisting temptation -- may appear more as
doing "nothing" than acting with strength. (What could be more "manly" than
banging on the table, slamming the door, and screaming at the top of your
lungs?) But as our Sages correctly observe, it often takes far greater
strength to do nothing than to react and to overreact. Strength is
controlling the animal that lurks within. Rashness, violence, thinking with
one's muscles -- all of these are forms of losing one's control and one's
humanity, and in the final analysis, are signs of weakness.
One final interesting observation is the universality of this law. As we
know, there are Seven Noachide Laws -- seven fundamental laws which G-d
commanded all of mankind. Possibly, six of them are ones we'd "expect" to
see -- do not kill, steal, commit adultery, etc. One, however, is a little
off the beaten track -- not to eat a limb severed from a living animal.
Somehow, that does not strike us as one of the fundamental tenets of human
morality. What is so crucial about it? Why did G-d deem it so far-reaching
as to command its observance on the entire world?
I have heard R. Noach Orlowek of Yeshiva Aish HaTorah, Jerusalem
(http://aish.com) explain as follows. What is the theme of this
commandment? In a word, self-restraint. Don't just take whatever you want
whenever you want it. You want to eat meat? You want to eat *raw* meat?
Immediately? At least wait until the animal is dead. This is not a matter
of religious ritual or living ascetically. That was not commanded on all
of mankind. But one thing was: don't be an animal. This is universal; it
is a simple matter of and a fact of our humanity. A person cannot live,
nor can society function, if people do nothing more than satisfy their
desires -- whenever they want and wherever they want. The Seven Laws do
not tell us we must be Jews, but they do tell us we must be humans. Really
not so much to ask of us, but above all else this is what distinguishes
us -- what crowns us -- as G-d's creations.
Text Copyright © 2005 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.