The
story of the deaths of Aaron’s two sons Nadab and Abihu is bewildering and has
sparked considerably speculation concerning what they did to evoke God’s wrath
and deserve such a violent end. Told succinctly (in just three verses!) the
story generates far more questions than the words required to tell it.
וַיִּקְחוּ בְנֵי-אַהֲרֹן נָדָב וַאֲבִיהוּא אִישׁ מַחְתָּתוֹ, וַיִּתְּנוּ בָהֵן אֵשׁ, וַיָּשִׂימוּ עָלֶיהָ, קְטֹרֶת; וַיַּקְרִיבוּ לִפְנֵי יְהוָה, אֵשׁ זָרָה--אֲשֶׁר לֹא צִוָּה, אֹתָם. וַתֵּצֵא אֵשׁ מִלִּפְנֵי יְהוָה, וַתֹּאכַל אוֹתָם; וַיָּמֻתוּ, לִפְנֵי יְהוָה. וַיֹּאמֶר מֹשֶׁה אֶל-אַהֲרֹן, הוּא אֲשֶׁר-דִּבֶּר יְהוָה לֵאמֹר בִּקְרֹבַי אֶקָּדֵשׁ, וְעַל-פְּנֵי כָל-הָעָם, אֶכָּבֵד; וַיִּדֹּם, אַהֲרֹן
Now Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu each
took his fire pan, put fire in it, and laid incense on it; and they offered
before Adonai alien fire, which God had not enjoined upon them. And fire came
forth from God and consumed them; thus they died at the instance of God. Then
Moses said to Aaron, “This is what the Lord meant when God said: ‘Through those
near to Me I show Myself holy and gain glory before all the people.’” And Aaron
was silent. (Leviticus 10: 1-3)
Rather
than provide a review of the many interpretations that have been proffered over
the ages, I want to share with you just one from the Babylonian Talmud,
Tractate Eruvin 63a. The discussion has relevance for us, living as we do in a
society where the wisdom of the elderly, and the opinions of teachers,
scholars, experts, and figures of authority often evoke more disdain and
contempt than respect.
The
Rabbis are discussing the imperative to respect scholars and older teachers.
Rava said, “[A disciple] is forbidden
[to render halakhic decisions] in the presence of his teacher and is liable to
death [for doing so]. If he is not in the presence of his [teacher’s] presence,
he is forbidden but not liable to death.”
There is no way to soften Rava’s claim. He is
telling us that Heaven will cut short the life of a student of Torah who, while
in the presence of his teacher, renders a legal decision that contradicts his
master’s opinion; to do so while not in the teacher’s presence is forbidden,
but will not result in punishment from Heaven. For Rava, countermanding one’s
teacher is tantamount to undermining his authority, a breathtaking act of
disrespect that Heaven will not tolerate. For us, it is Rava’s claim that is
breathtaking. Let’s exhale and see where the Gemara goes.
If he is not in his [teacher’s]
presence, is he not [liable to death]? Was it not taught [in a baraita]: R.
Eliezer [ben Hyrcanus] says, “The sons of Aaron (i.e., Nadab and Abihu) did not
die until they rendered a halakhic decision in the presence of Moses their
teacher.”
Gemara asks: Are you so sure that he doesn’t
warrant death just because he’s not in his teacher’s presence when he renders
his contrary decision? Perhaps he deserves death even when he renders a
decision at a distance from his teacher. Gemara brings a baraita that will
ultimately prove Rava correct: rendering the decision in the master’s
immediately presence is the far greater crime that provokes Heaven to
retaliate. The baraita is attributed to R. Eliezer b. Hyrcanus, one of the
primary disciples of the leader of the rabbinic community at the time of the
destruction for the Second Temple, Rabban Yochanan b. Zakkai. R. Eliezer sees a
parallel between Rava’s teaching to the story of Nadab and Abihu: he claims
they did precisely what Rava said is forbidden and that is why they died. How
do we know that Nadab and Abihu intentionally undermined or ignored Moses’ authority?
Talmud provides scriptural support:
What scriptural inference did they
(i.e., Nadab and Abihu) make? The sons of Aaron the priest shall put fire on
the altar… (Leviticus 1:7). They said, “Although [it says] Fire came
forth from before Adonai (Leviticus 9:24), it is a mitzvah to bring
ordinary [fire].
Leviticus 9:24 says that God will bring forth fire
from heaven for the altar, but Nadab and Abihu concluded on their own—without
consulting Moses, and that is the primary point here—on the basis of
Leviticus 1:7 that they were commanded to bring fire to the altar. Leviticus
1:7 but does not specify precisely when or how to bring fire to the altar and
so the brothers brought the fire they would normally bring to the altar. The “alien
fire” of 10:1 (see above) is their ordinary fire, which the Talmud
understands to be in defiance of Moses’ opinion as expressed in Leviticus 9:24.
Nadab and Abihu effectively render a halakhic decision that contradicts that of
their teacher, Moses, who in Leviticus 9:24 stipulates that God will supply
divine fire. Therefore, Heaven punished them with death.
R. Eliezer recounts an episode from his experience that reflects his
interpretation of the incident surrounding the death of Aaron’s sons. He, too, suffered a student who rendered a
halakhic decision contrary to his own and did so in his presence.
R. Eliezer had a disciple who
rendered a halakhic decision in his presence. R. Eliezer said to his wife Ima
Shalom, “I will be amazed if this one lives out the year.” [Ima Shalom] said to
him, “Are you a prophet?” He said, “I am neither a prophet nor the son of a
prophet (Amos 7:14), but I learned this [from my teachers]: Anyone who
renders a halakhic decision in the presence of his teacher is liable to death.”
R. Eliezer speculates that Heaven will respond
punitively to his student’s audacious act. His wife, Ima Shalom, unaware of the
teaching that students who act in this way will be punished by Heaven, asks how
he can know what will happen in the future to this student. Is he a prophet?
No, he responds, quoting a famous verse from the prophet Amos, it’s not a
matter of prophecy, but rather of Torah law: “Anyone who renders a halakhic
decision in the presence of his teacher is liable to death.”
So extraordinary is the claim—we’re tempted to say
radical or extreme—that the Talmud goes out of its way to let us know that R.
Eliezer’s story was not allegorical, emphasizing that it really happened.
And Rabbah bar bar Chana said in the
name of R. Yochanan, “That disciple’s name was Yehudah b. Gurya and he was
three parasangs[1] away from [R. Eliezer].” He was in
his presence. But [R. Yochanan] said he was three parasangs away from him! Then
according to your reasoning, why [did R. Yochanan say the disciple’s] name and
his father’s name? Only so that you would not claim that this was merely a
parable [and did not really happen].
But even more: There is reason to believe that the
student, who apparently died within the year, did not render his decision in
the immediate physical presence of R. Eliezer. He was three parasangs away (see n. 1: he was nearly 1.8 miles, well
beyond the distance that would make him liable for death; nonetheless, Heaven
saw fit to mete out the ultimate punishment. Gemara goes on to debate whether
the student was three parasangs away
when he rendered the decision, or lived three parasangs from R. Eliezer, but in the end, it concludes that
his death confirms Rava’s statement to be true.
This interpretation of Nadab and Abihu’s death, and
the story of Yehudah b. Gurya’s demise, are troubling on many levels. On the
theological level: The claim that God operates in this way might well
contribute to greater constraint (borne of fear) on the part of students
vis-a-vis delivering legal rulings that contradict and undermine those of their
teachers, but it promotes a view of God as vindictive and punitive. Moreover,
although the intent of the teaching may be to promote respect of teachers, it
invites speculation concerning what those who suffer an untimely death may have
done to provoke the wrath of heaven, a decidedly dangerous judgmental stance to
infuse into the rabbinic community.
On a historical level: This interpretation of what
lies behind the deaths of Nadab and Abihu signals the Rabbis’ anxiety about
their own authority, and the prospect of seeing their opinions upended by their
own students. Perhaps, given the likelihood that rabbinic authority in the
Jewish community at this time was not nearly as established, entrenched, and
respected in the broader Jewish community as the Rabbis themselves project
through their stories, Rava’s ruling and
the supporting baraita reflect the attempt to construct the values and
procedures for embedding rabbinic authority in the culture of the Jewish
community.[2]
This is an anxiety felt in every generation, and in
every profession. It is about expertise, but also about basic respect for the
learning and wisdom of those who came before.
Yes, this is about the unique quality of halakhic
interpretation in the Talmudic period and the teacher-disciple relationship in
the Amoraic rabbinic world. But there is also something universal about the
anxieties expressed here. Those who are young fear they will not have the
opportunity to spread their wings and have their opinions taken seriously.
Those who are older fear they will become irrelevant, surpassed by their own
students. The Rabbis provide a useful insight for any age.
One last thing: Rather than see ourselves in
competition for authority, we might strive for greater cooperation and sharing.
The jobs website monster.com has
posted an article detailing what older and younger workers can learn from one
another. While this does not address the relationship between teacher and
disciple, or jockeying for authority, it is related because learning and
conveying various kinds of wisdom are tied up with respect and authority. The
author, Dan Woog, notes:
For the first time ever, four
distinct generations share the workplace: the Silents (who are in their
mid-60s on up), Baby Boomers (mid-40s to mid-60s), X-ers (mid-20s to mid-40s)
and Millennials (the newest workers). The work and life experiences of each
group are unique, but the divide is clearest between the two oldest generations
and the two youngest.[3]
Nonetheless, Woog asserts, each group has something to teach
the other. Older workers can teach their younger colleagues how to cope with
hard times and regret, the importance of loyalty, and interpersonal skills;
they can share their vast experience and encourage independence and
self-reliance. Younger colleagues can help older workers to learn new
technology, and open their eyes to the value of diversity, the reality of
job-hopping, the necessity of risk-taking, the importance of balancing work and
life, and renew in them the sense that they can fulfill their dreams.
© Rabbi Amy Scheinerman
[2] In yet another
direction, Dr. Rabbi Richard Hidary’s PhD dissertation (New York University),
"Tolerance for Diversity
of Halakhic Practice in the Talmud," explores
the extent to which Talmudic rabbis tolerated diversity in halakhic practice, a
direct offshoot of halakhic decisions. From the abstract:
“By comparing dozens of Yerushalmi and Bavli
parallel sugyot, we have found that the Yerushalmi generally views diversity of
practice negatively, preferring a monistic view of halakha, while the Bavli
takes a more pluralistic attitude. Tannaitic sources mostly tend towards a
monistic view, but also include some of the most strongly pluralistic
statements in rabbinic literature.
“One explanation for the split between the two
Talmuds is the difference in the distribution of the Jewish population in each
country. The rabbis in Babylonia were scattered in various cities and were thus
able to maintain independence from each other as they legislated for their
local populations. The rabbis in Palestine were concentrated in a few
neighboring cities in the north such that different practices in close
proximity lead to tension.
“A second and more important explanation is
rooted in the intellectual culture of the rabbis in each location. The
Yerushalmi sees halakha as a mimetic set of static traditions and so it seeks
out the one most authentic practice. The Bavli intellectualizes halakha and so
recognizes the validity of multiple views and practices that result from
rational argumentation. This difference between the Talmuds corresponds to
findings of previous scholars regarding the value of multiple opinions and
debate.”
It would seem to me that
while geographic dispersion and distance might well promote a broader spectrum
of practices, given the physical impediments to travel and thereby to checking
up on what others are saying and doing, that might also augur for tightening
the reigns of authority in one’s own district.
