The Elliot B. Sitt Edition and Audio Series of the Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Hagigah, has been dedicated in memory of Hacham Raful Muheddeh ben Garaz and Marie Muheddeh bat Jamileh. May their souls be bound in the bond of eternal life. Amen. Dedicated by Dr. Isaac and Lily Muheddeh. May God protect them and grant them life. Amen.
We begin with the two lines from the bottom of the page. As an introduction to the question that the Gemara is about to ask, we know that a High Priest is permitted to marry only a virgin, as the verse says in the portion of Emor: “He shall take a woman in her virginity.” The question is: What does “in her virginity” mean? Obviously, it means that she has not had relations. Once she has had relations, she is no longer considered a virgin. A woman who has had relations is forbidden to a High Priest.
The Gemara therefore says: “Ben Zoma asked: A virgin who became pregnant—what is her status with regard to a High Priest?” Is she permitted to marry a High Priest? What is the question? She became pregnant; how could she still be a virgin?
The Gemara answers that the question is whether we must take into consideration the practice of Shmuel. Shmuel had a particular expertise called “hataya,” through which he could cause certain blood vessels to break—or, according to the discussion, could enable a woman to become pregnant—without breaking the hymen and without causing her to bleed. In such a case, it is possible for a woman to remain a virgin and nevertheless become pregnant.
If so, she would be forbidden to a High Priest. Even if we believe her when she says that she is a virgin, and we accept that she is not lying, if we are concerned that Shmuel’s practice was used, then this type of virgin would be forbidden to a High Priest because she has had relations.
Alternatively, perhaps we can say that Shmuel’s practice was not common. The Gemara says, “Shmuel’s practice is not prevalent.” If it was an unusual technique that only Shmuel knew, then most people would not know how to perform it. Ordinarily, when a man has relations with a woman, the hymen will be broken. Shmuel was exceptional, but his practice was not widespread.
That creates another question: If this woman claims that she is a virgin and she is pregnant, how did she become pregnant? The Gemara answers that perhaps she became pregnant through a bath. A man may have been in a bath, and some of his semen entered the water. The woman entered the bath afterward, and the semen entered her and caused her to become pregnant. In that way, she could become pregnant without having relations and could remain a virgin.
Such a woman would be permitted to a High Priest, because she truly is a virgin. She has not had relations. This is the subject known as conception through a bath. The halachic authorities discuss many questions concerning such a case: whether one fulfills the commandment to be fruitful and multiply in this manner, whether the father is considered the person who contributed the semen for purposes of that commandment, and questions concerning the status of children born in such circumstances, including cases involving a married woman. These are all discussed by the halachic authorities.
Ben Sirah, whom the tradition identifies as the son of the prophet Jeremiah, was said to have been born through such a process. The account says that Ben Sirah’s mother was in a bath, the semen entered the water, and she conceived from it. In any event, we see from this discussion that it is possible for a woman to become pregnant and still remain a virgin. In that case, she would be permitted to a High Priest.
The Gemara then raises a difficulty in the name of Shmuel. There is a principle that any semen that does not emerge like an arrow does not have the ability to impregnate. If the semen is merely floating in water, how can it cause a woman to become pregnant? If it came directly from the man, it emerged forcefully, like an arrow. But how can it be effective when it is floating in a bath?
The Gemara answers that it originally emerged like an arrow. When we say that semen must emerge like an arrow, we mean that it must have emerged from the man in that manner. Even though it is now in the water, because it initially emerged forcefully, it retains the ability to fertilize the woman. It is possible for semen to emerge from a man without force, in which case it is impotent and cannot impregnate. But as long as it emerged like an arrow, it remains potent even after entering the water.
There are different ways of understanding the question asked by Ben Zoma. Let us look briefly at Rashi. According to Rashi, the question is whether the woman may remain married to a High Priest. She is claiming that she is a virgin, and the High Priest married her on the assumption that she was a virgin. He did not know that she was pregnant. He then found that she had the signs of virginity, and afterward discovered that she was pregnant. May he continue to keep her as his wife?
If we are concerned about Shmuel’s practice, he must divorce her. That would mean that she had relations, but through this technique she became pregnant without the hymen being broken. She is therefore not a virgin in the relevant sense. But once we say that Shmuel’s practice was not common, we can say that she remained a virgin and became pregnant through a bath. She did not have relations, and she may therefore remain married to the High Priest.
We have a Baraita that sheds light on this subject. It tells of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Hananiah, who was standing on one of the upper steps of the Temple Mount. Ben Zoma passed by him without stopping to greet him. Rabbi Yehoshua called to him and asked, “Where are you coming from?” In other words, “What are you thinking about that you did not see me? You walked right past me without saying hello. Where are you going, lost in thought?” Some explain that Rabbi Yehoshua was rebuking him: “How can you walk past someone without greeting him? Do you have a sense of arrogance? To whom will you be accountable for your actions?”
Ben Zoma replied that he had been contemplating the subject of the work of creation, specifically the upper waters and the lower waters. We know that there are waters above the firmament and waters below the heavens. He said that he had concluded that only three fingerbreadths separated the upper waters from the lower waters.
He based this on the verse describing the first day of creation: “The spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” What does “hovering” mean? It is like a dove fluttering over its young without touching them. This indicates that there was only a very small distance between them, which Ben Zoma understood as three fingerbreadths.
When Rabbi Yehoshua heard this interpretation, he said to his students, “Ben Zoma is still outside.” That means he was still not mentally balanced. We learned that when Ben Zoma entered the orchard, he was adversely affected and lost his mind. Rabbi Yehoshua therefore said that this interpretation showed that Ben Zoma was still in that condition.
Let us analyze the story. The verse that says that God’s spirit was hovering over the waters refers to the first day of creation. The separation between the upper waters and the lower waters, however, did not take place until the second day. Why, then, was Ben Zoma bringing a verse from the first day to explain the distance between the upper and lower waters, when the separation had not yet occurred? Rabbi Yehoshua considered this evidence that Ben Zoma was still not thinking properly.
The Gemara then gives another measurement for the distance between the waters. One explanation compares it to the planks of a bridge. The planks are placed next to one another, with only a very small space between them. Another explanation compares it to two robes spread one over the other. They lie on top of each other, but they do not touch completely; there is a small space between the lower garment and the one spread over it.
A further comparison is made to two cups placed one inside the other. One cup is inserted into the other, so they do not touch at every point. There is a small space between them. This is the measure of the distance between the upper waters and the lower waters.
The Gemara then returns to the story of “Acher.” One of the four sages who entered the orchard was Elisha ben Abuya. The verse says, “Do not let your mouth cause your flesh to sin.” Elisha saw certain things and reacted to them in a destructive way. He took what he saw and used it to abandon the proper path. The verse warns a person to be careful about what he says, so that he does not bring punishment upon himself.
What did Elisha see? The Gemara says that he saw an angel whose name is read as “Mamtit.” Haim Vital says that this is the name of one of the angels and that we are not permitted to pronounce the name. This was a very significant angel, to whom God gave permission to sit for one hour each day and write down the merits and memories of Israel. Elisha saw the angel sitting and recording all the merits of Israel, like a secretary or scribe documenting them.
Elisha could not properly process the sight of an angel sitting in the presence of the Holy One, blessed be He. He had a tradition that there is no sitting in Heaven, no competition, no turning one’s back, and no weariness. Angels have no backs, because their faces are on all sides, and they do not become tired. Elisha therefore reasoned that if the angel was sitting, perhaps there were two authorities, God forbid. Perhaps there was another deity, God forbid. This caused him to question the unity of the Holy One, blessed be He.
As a result, the angel was removed from his position and was lashed with sixty lashes of fire. Why was the angel punished? The heavenly court held him partially responsible. Since Elisha saw him sitting and could not understand the sight, the angel should have stood up. Had he stood, Elisha would have understood that he was not a deity and that he, too, was subject to the authority of the Holy One, blessed be He. The lashes also demonstrated to Elisha that the angel was not a deity and was himself under God’s authority.
The commentators explain why the punishment consisted of sixty lashes. In this world, a person is not liable for lashes until reaching the age of thirteen, and the lashes are administered in three sets according to that number. Three times thirteen is thirty-nine. In Heaven, punishment does not begin until the age of twenty. Applying the same formula—three sets of twenty—produces sixty lashes.
Why are there three sets? They correspond to the three levels of sin: transgression, iniquity, and rebellion. They also correspond to the three levels of the soul—life-force, spirit, and soul—which are defiled at the time of sin. That is why the punishment consisted of three sets.
The commentators point out a beautiful insight that we learned in another passage of the Gemara. Shemaiah was unable to expound the word “also” in the verse, “You shall fear the Lord your God.” He asked whom this additional word could include. Whom must a person fear besides the Holy One, blessed be He? Rabbi Akiva eventually expounded the word “also” as including Torah scholars. The fear described in the verse includes not only fear of God but also proper respect for Torah scholars.
Rav Hida brings this as a teaching in his work Petach Einayim. According to this explanation, Rabbi Akiva’s insight emerged from the incident in the orchard. The Holy One, blessed be He, commanded the angel to stand before Elisha ben Abuya. Rabbi Akiva understood from this that even an angel must stand in honor of a Torah scholar. Thus, the inspiration for Rabbi Akiva’s interpretation came from the incident in which the angel was forced to stand in honor of a Torah scholar.
The Gemara continues that God then gave permission to erase Acher’s merits. At that point, Elisha went astray, and his merits were removed from him. A heavenly voice declared, “Return, wayward sons, except for Acher.” Everyone can repent; everyone has the ability to return, except Acher. It appeared that God was removing Elisha’s ability to repent.
The Ayin Yaakov explains that although nothing can stand in the way of repentance, Elisha was in a different situation because he knew God and intentionally rebelled. He did not sin out of ignorance. He understood what he was doing and chose to rebel. The heavenly voice therefore meant that Elisha would not receive divine assistance in the process of repentance.
Normally, God assists a person in coming around and repenting. Here, Elisha lost that assistance. He could still repent if he chose to do so, but he would have to do it on his own. The Ayin Yaakov explains that the voice was not necessarily telling him that repentance was impossible; it was telling him that he would receive no help from Heaven in the process.
There are different explanations for why Elisha ben Abuya was called Acher, “the other.” Rabbeinu Nissim Gaon writes that he went backward. He had been a religious person, but instead of progressing, he went in the opposite direction. He was therefore called Acher because he went backward.
Others explain that he worshipped idolatry, or that he desecrated the Sabbath. Desecrating the Sabbath is compared to idolatry, and idolatry is called “other gods.” One who stood on the side of idolatry was therefore called Acher. The Gemara will give another reason as well.
Since Elisha heard the heavenly voice and misunderstood it, he thought, “I have already been cast out and banished from repentance. I may as well enjoy myself in this world.” He went out and found a prostitute and solicited her. She recognized him and said, “Are you not Elisha ben Abuya, the great rabbi?”
To demonstrate that he was no longer Elisha ben Abuya, he uprooted a radish from the ground on the Sabbath. He did this to show her that he was willing to desecrate the Sabbath. He then gave the radish to her. She said, “You must be someone else.” That is another explanation for why he was called Acher: the woman told him that he must be another person, because Elisha ben Abuya would not have uprooted a radish on the Sabbath.
Rabbi Meir was one of Elisha ben Abuya’s students. Even after Acher left the proper path, Rabbi Meir continued to learn Torah from him. Acher asked Rabbi Meir a question based on the verse that says that God created everything corresponding to something else. Everything God created has an opposing or parallel force.
He created mountains, and opposite the mountains He created hills. He created seas or great bodies of water, and opposite them He created rivers or smaller bodies of water. Acher understood the phrase “corresponding to one another” as referring to similar things that differ in degree—a large mountain and a smaller hill, or a great body of water and a smaller one.
Rabbi Meir replied that Rabbi Akiva, his principal teacher, did not explain the verse that way. Rabbi Akiva taught that God created opposites: He created righteous people and wicked people; He created the Garden of Eden and Gehenna. Every person begins with a portion in both. If a person becomes worthy, he receives his own portion and also receives the portion that another person forfeited. If a person becomes wicked, he receives his own portion in Gehenna and also receives the portion of his fellow.
Why should that be so? When a righteous person does good deeds, his holiness brings holiness into the world and positively influences others. His deeds make it easier for other people to do good. Therefore, he deserves not only his own portion in the Garden of Eden, but also a portion of the reward that others forfeited, because he inspired them.
The wicked person works in the same way, in the opposite direction. His sins bring himself and the world downward and make it easier for others to sin. Therefore, he receives his own portion and also the portion of his fellow.
The Beit HaLevi explains this idea. The work entitled Taavah LeChayim explains that Rabbi Akiva was teaching that once God created good and evil, He created every person with a portion in both. Each person has the ability to determine which portion will become his.
If a person were assigned from the beginning either a portion in the Garden of Eden or a portion in Gehenna, it would not be fair. The wicked person could claim, “I was doomed from the beginning. I never had a chance.” The righteous person could similarly say that his reward was automatic. What does the Creator therefore do? He gives everyone an equal share and allows each person to decide which portion he will inherit.
If someone takes his portion in Gehenna, a portion in the Garden of Eden becomes available. That portion goes to the righteous person. This is why we say in the prayer, “Place our portion among them.” If a person temporarily loses his portion because he commits sins, we ask that it be given at least to the great righteous people. When we repent, they will return it to us, because righteous people do not want to retain anything that does not belong to them.
The Gemara continues by asking where this teaching is found in the verses. The righteous inherit their own portion and the portion of their fellow, while the wicked inherit a double portion of Gehenna. Their brokenness is doubled.
The Gemara also asks what it means when the verse says that the Torah cannot be evaluated against gold, precious glass, or other valuable vessels. The verse is referring to the Torah, which is difficult to acquire like gold and precious jewels. These objects are expensive and rare, and it is difficult to obtain them. Yet the Torah can be lost in a moment, like glass. When glass falls to the floor, it shatters, and it is finished.
Acher was giving Elisha a hint: “Look what happened to you. You were prepared to become a great sage, but in one moment you lost everything.” Rabbi Akiva, however, explained the verse differently. Glass can be repaired. In the same way, a Torah scholar who has become spiritually damaged can be repaired.
When Rabbi Meir heard that Acher was capable of giving such an interpretation, he said, “Then repent.” Acher replied, “I have already heard from behind the curtain: ‘Return, wayward sons, except for Acher.’” He believed that there was no remedy for him and that he therefore had no choice.
Acher was riding on a horse on the Sabbath, while Rabbi Meir followed him on foot and learned Torah from him. Acher said, “Meir, turn back. Your horse has already reached the Sabbath boundary.” A person may not travel beyond two thousand cubits outside the Sabbath boundary, and Acher said that he had calculated the distance according to the horse’s footsteps. Rabbi Meir therefore had to return.
The Maharsha points out that Rabbi Meir certainly knew that the Sabbath boundary is calculated according to the person’s feet, not the horse’s feet. He explains that Acher said this mockingly. He was deriding Rabbi Meir as one of the religious people and was merely trying to get rid of him.
The Malach al-Shalom offers a different interpretation. Even in the state that Elisha was in, he did not want Rabbi Meir to commit a transgression. He told him that he had reached the Sabbath boundary and should return. According to this view, Acher still had some goodness in him, and he prevented Rabbi Meir from violating the laws of the Sabbath boundary.
One of the commentators explains in the work Derech Avot that Rabbi Meir’s walking on the Sabbath could have been considered a matter of saving a life. Acher was trying to bring him back to repentance, and Rabbi Meir continued walking because he viewed the effort to restore Acher as a matter of spiritual life and death. Acher therefore stopped him and warned him about the Sabbath boundary.
Acher then said to Rabbi Meir, “You, too, turn back. You should also repent.” Rabbi Meir replied, “I have already told you that I heard from behind the curtain, ‘Return, wayward sons, except for Acher.’”
Rabbi Meir grabbed Acher and brought him into the study hall. In earlier times, the sages would sometimes ask a child who had just come out of the school to recite the verse he had learned that day. They regarded the verse as a serious sign or message from Heaven.
Acher asked one child to tell him a verse, and the child replied, “There is no peace, says the Lord, for the wicked.” Acher went to another study hall and asked another child for a verse. The child replied, “Even if you wash yourself with detergent and cleanse yourself with soap, your sin remains a stain.” The verse indicated that a person could adorn himself outwardly, but if he was abominable in God’s eyes, there was no point in trying to beautify himself.
Acher visited thirteen synagogues, attempting to find a child who would give him a different message and convince him that he could repent. In every synagogue, the children quoted verses with a similar meaning. He interpreted each verse negatively and understood them as telling him that there was no hope for him.
In the last synagogue, he asked a child to recite a verse. The child said, “But to the wicked God says: What right have you to recite My statutes?” The child had a slight speech impediment, and when he recited the verse, his words sounded as though he had said, “What right have you to recite My statutes?” Acher became extremely upset.
Some say that he had a knife in his hand and cut the child. Others say that he did not cut the child; rather, he cut the book of Psalms from which the child had been reading. He divided the book into thirteen pieces and sent them to the thirteen synagogues, as if to tell them, “Do not speak to me about repentance anymore. It is already documented in the Psalms that I am beyond repentance. Leave me alone.”
Why did he become so upset at the last child? Acher believed that even though he had committed sins, the Torah would always protect him. The Torah protects and saves a person. He was still learning Torah, as we see from the fact that he was teaching Rabbi Meir. He therefore believed that he still had merit through the Torah he had learned.
When the last child told him that his Torah was worthless, that his learning did not count, and that he had no right even to recite God’s statutes, Acher became angry. He understood the verse as saying that the Torah would not protect him at all. That is why he reacted so violently.
Acher then died. The heavenly court faced a dilemma. They could not place him in Gehenna, but they also could not bring him into the World to Come. He had learned Torah, and the Torah ultimately protects a person, so he was left in limbo.
They decided that it would be better to place him in Gehenna and begin the process of atonement. Once he entered Gehenna, his sins could be cleansed, and afterward he could enter the World to Come. Rabbi Meir said, “When I die, you will see smoke rising from Acher’s grave.” The smoke would indicate that he had exerted influence in Heaven to have Acher placed in Gehenna. However long the process lasted, at least it had begun.
When Rabbi Meir died, a pillar of smoke rose from Acher’s grave. A man named Rabbi Hanina said, “Is this greatness—to burn your rabbi?” He was pointing out the problem of appearances. People would not know that Rabbi Meir had done this in order to bring Acher to the World to Come. They would only see smoke rising from the grave and assume that Rabbi Meir had placed his rabbi in Gehenna.
Rabbi Hanina said, “There was one man among us whom I could not save. If I take him out of Gehenna with my own hands, who will take him away from me?” He was saying that when he died, he would go to Gehenna and remove Acher himself. No one would stop him.
When Rabbi Hanina died, the smoke ceased rising from Acher’s grave. At his funeral, the eulogizer said, “Even the guardian of the gate of Gehenna could not stand before you.” Rabbi Hanina entered Gehenna, removed Acher, and no one was able to prevent him.
The commentators write in the work Kochvei Or that if one calculates the time between Rabbi Meir’s death and Rabbi Hanina’s death, Acher remained in the fire of Gehenna for approximately 150 years. All of that suffering was ultimately worthwhile, because he eventually entered the Garden of Eden and the World to Come.
From this we can learn a lesson: It is worthwhile for a person to endure tremendous suffering, even suffering in the lowest depths of Gehenna, if the result is ultimately to reach the eternal life of the next world. If not for Rabbi Hanina’s intervention, the fire might have continued for much longer. Who knows how much longer Elisha would have remained in that state? All of this suffering was endured in order to achieve the ultimate good in the next world. We can understand from here how great that place is and how worthwhile it is to endure all suffering for its sake.
The Gemara tells of Acher’s daughter, who came before Rabbi. She said, “My teacher, support me.” Rabbi asked her, “Who are you? Who is your father?” She answered, “I am Acher’s daughter.” Rabbi asked her, “Are there still descendants of Acher living in the world?”
He referred to the verse that says that the person who opposes God will not have children, grandchildren, or descendants among his people. She replied, “Remember his Torah, but do not remember his deeds.”
At that moment, fire came down from Heaven and burned the bench on which Rabbi was sitting. Rabbi began to cry and said, “If this is the punishment for those who abandon the path after studying Torah, how much more does the Torah protect those who become righteous through it?”
The commentators bring the words of Devarim Chaim: From here we have proof that even if a wicked person studies Torah, the Torah he learned when he was good is not despised. The Torah remains valuable despite his later actions.
This is similar to the story of Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi. Acher’s daughter came before him seeking support, and Rabbi said that there were still merits in the world associated with Acher. The Torah he had learned continued to have value.
How could Rabbi Meir learn Torah from Acher? Rabbi Abba bar Hannah quotes Rabbi Yohanan on the verse, “For the lips of the priest should preserve knowledge, and Torah should be sought from his mouth, for he is an angel of the Lord of Hosts.” The verse says that one should seek Torah from the mouth of the person who teaches it, because he is like an angel.
The Gemara asks: If the rabbi is comparable to an angel of the Lord of Hosts, then one should seek Torah from his mouth. But Acher was certainly not an angel. How, then, could Rabbi Meir learn from him?
Rabbi Meir found another verse: “Incline your ear and listen to the words of the sages, and apply your heart to My knowledge.” He understood this to mean that one may receive the words of Torah from a teacher, but one must ensure that his heart remains loyal to the proper outlook. He should take the words of Torah but should not adopt the teacher’s corrupt opinions.
Another verse says, “Listen, daughter, see and incline your ear; forget your people and your father’s house.” This can also be understood to mean: Learn certain things, but forget the bad things. Take the good and reject the bad.
We therefore have apparently contradictory verses. One verse says that the teacher must be like an angel, and if he is not, one should not seek Torah from him. Other verses say that one may learn from him but must forget his deeds and not imitate his ways.
The Gemara resolves the contradiction by distinguishing between a mature student and an immature one. If a person can distinguish between the teacher’s Torah and his corrupt outlook, he may learn from him. But if he cannot distinguish between the two, he may not learn from him.
Rashi seems to understand “mature” and “immature” as referring to age: an adult can distinguish, while a child cannot. Other early authorities explain that “mature” means mature in wisdom, while “immature” means immature in wisdom. The distinction does not necessarily depend on a person’s chronological age. It depends on whether he has the understanding to separate the Torah from the teacher’s bad ideas.
Tosafot asks about a particular rabbi who was surrounded by serious rumors, and whom the sages placed under a ban. Why was that necessary? According to this Gemara, why not continue allowing him to teach, as long as the students were mature enough to distinguish between his Torah and his opinions?
Tosafot answers that the rabbi in question was teaching immature students. Even students of the Talmudic sages could be considered immature in this regard if they were likely to be influenced by the teacher’s outlook. This is an important point: even someone who was considered a sage in the time of the Gemara could still be considered immature for purposes of this distinction.
This helps explain the Rambam. When he writes the law concerning learning from a teacher who has abandoned the proper path, he says that one may not learn from that teacher until he repents and asks for forgiveness, even if the teacher is wise and knowledgeable. Why does the Rambam not distinguish between mature and immature students?
The Shach asks this question. The Gemara appears to distinguish between a mature student and an immature student, while the Rambam simply says that one may not learn from such a teacher. The Shach answers that perhaps, in the time of the Gemara, certain scholars could still be considered immature, as Tosafot explained. In our time, however, there is no such distinction. We do not have students on the level of Rabbi Meir, who was able to separate the Torah from Acher’s outlook. The sages of our time have said that compared with the earlier generations, we are like donkeys rather than like the donkeys of Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair. Therefore, the distinction is not applied in our time.
The Shach offers another answer. Perhaps we do not rule according to Rabbi Meir in this matter. The Gemara says that Rabbi Meir found a verse and expounded it. It may be that Rabbi Meir adopted a personal position, but it is not the halachic ruling for everyone else. Since the Rambam did not rule according to Rabbi Meir’s distinction, he did not mention a difference between mature and immature students.
According to the first answer of the Shach, even a great scholar in our time may be considered immature in this matter. According to the second answer, the distinction is not accepted as a general ruling because it was the individual approach of Rabbi Meir.
The sages in the West said that Rabbi Meir was eating a date and threw away the pit. Rashi explains that he ate the fruit and discarded the inedible part. This was an analogy: Rabbi Meir took the Torah from Acher and discarded the bad aspects.
Rabbi Meir also taught from the verse, “I went down to the garden of nuts.” Why is a Torah scholar compared to a nut? Even though the outside of a nut may be covered with mud and dirt, the inside remains edible. So too, even if Torah scholars go astray, the Torah within them is not ruined.
Rabbi Bar Shila once encountered Elijah the Prophet and asked him what the Holy One, blessed be He, was doing at that moment. Elijah answered that God was studying Torah and quoting the teachings of the various sages: “Rabbi so-and-so says this, and Rabbi so-and-so says that.” But God was not quoting Rabbi Meir.
Rabbi Bar Shila asked why. Elijah replied that God could not quote Rabbi Meir because Rabbi Meir had learned Torah from Acher, who had become an apostate. Rabbi Bar Shila responded that Rabbi Meir was like a pomegranate: he ate the fruit and discarded the peel. He had taken the good from Acher and rejected the bad.
After Rabbi Bar Shila made this argument, God began quoting Rabbi Meir. The commentators ask whether this means that the Holy One, blessed be He, changed His mind. According to the Shittah Mekubetzet, even when the heavenly court has a sound argument, the Holy One, blessed be He, always accepts the reasoning of the righteous sages of the generation. Once Rabbi Bar Shila offered this explanation and the sages accepted it, Rabbi Meir’s Torah could be quoted.
The Shlah HaKadosh offers a beautiful insight concerning the prayer in which we ask that our portion be placed among the portions of the righteous. On the simple level, we are asking that our portion in Torah be placed among theirs. Every soul has a particular portion in Torah, and we ask to maximize our potential and access all the Torah destined for our souls.
The Shlah explains that we ask for our portion to be “in Your Torah,” meaning that even when we learn Torah, our words should remain within God’s Torah. Elisha did not have this merit until Rabbi Meir defended him and until Rabbi Bar Shila offered an explanation on his behalf. Their merit allowed the Torah associated with Elisha to be preserved.
There is a question concerning the two analogies involving Rabbi Meir. In one analogy, he ate the fruit of the date and threw away the pit. In the other, he ate the inside of a pomegranate and threw away the outside. These appear to be opposites: in one case he takes the outside and rejects the inside, while in the other he takes the inside and rejects the outside.
The Maharsha explains that Rabbi Meir was distinguishing between different aspects of Elisha. When it came to Elisha’s conduct—his behavior with the prostitute and his desecration of the Sabbath—those were the external aspects of his life. Rabbi Meir rejected those external behaviors, like the shell of a pomegranate, and took the inner Torah.
At the same time, we know that Elisha also had distortions within his philosophy. His inner outlook contained ideas that were wrong. In that respect, Rabbi Meir took the Torah that came out of his mouth but rejected the corrupt outlook within his heart. That is compared to the date: he took what could be eaten and discarded what could not.
Rabbi Meir was therefore sorting between the inner and outer aspects, and between the good and the bad, on both levels.
What was the Holy One, blessed be He, quoting from Rabbi Meir in Heaven? God said, “When a person is suffering”—that is, when a person sins and is suffering because of his sins—“the Divine Presence says, ‘My head is heavy; My arm is heavy.’” God, so to speak, feels the pain when the Jewish people sin.
This can also refer to the pain caused when wicked people are punished for their sins, but even more so to the innocent blood of righteous people that is spilled. If God empathizes with the suffering of the wicked when they are punished, how much more does He feel the pain of the righteous who suffer innocently?
The Midrash interprets the repeated expression in the verse as meaning, “My arm is heavy upon Me; My head is heavy upon Me.” The commentators explain that the Gemara in Berachot says that the Holy One, blessed be He, wears tefillin, and that the tefillin of the Holy One, blessed be He, contain praise of the Jewish people. Through those tefillin, there is closeness between God and Israel.
When a person sins, he damages the connection between himself and the Holy One, blessed be He. God therefore says, so to speak, that the closeness created through His tefillin has become heavy. He feels the distance from those who have become separated from Him because of their sins. God also empathizes with those who suffer innocently. This is the meaning of the teaching associated with Rabbi Meir.
Shmuel once found Rav Yehudah standing and crying near the bolt of a door. Shmuel said to him, “Sharp one, why are you crying?” Rav Yehudah replied that it was not a small matter that was written concerning the sages. The verse asks, “Where is the one who counts? Where is the one who weighs? Where is the one who counts the towers?”
The commentators explain that the verse refers to the great scholars, who were called scribes because they counted every letter in the Torah. They understood the significance of every letter and were able to derive the depths of the Torah from them. They could formulate arguments of a light and serious nature, weighing one matter against another.
The verse also refers to sages who could give three hundred interpretations concerning a suspended tower. What is this suspended tower? Rashi explains that the letter lamed is formed from two letters, a kaf and a vav. The vav rises above the base of the kaf, leaning to one side, and therefore resembles a tower suspended in the air. The sages could give three hundred interpretations concerning the upper part of the lamed and its position.
Others say that the suspended tower refers to the tower built by the generation of the dispersion. In either case, the number three hundred refers to the difficult laws of ritual impurity and purity. The sages could give three hundred interpretations concerning a tower or cabinet used to carry a person while he was impure: would the cabinet interrupt the transmission of impurity, or would the impurity still pass through? These were difficult questions in Tractate Oholot. The sages had three hundred questions concerning this subject.
Rav Yehudah was crying because he said, “What will become of us?” If these great righteous people possessed so much Torah and wisdom and still had three hundred unresolved questions, what hope is there for us?
Shmuel responded, “Young sharp one, do not worry.” He explained that Doeg and Ahitophel had the Torah of the sages, yet they lost their portions in the World to Come. Doeg was the person who spoke slander about the priests of Nob before Saul and caused Saul to kill them. Ahitophel sided with Absalom against David. Despite all the Torah they possessed, they lost their portions.
Shmuel explained that there was already an impurity in their hearts from the beginning. The Gemara asks what that impurity was. It says that Doeg was singing Greek songs. Rashi explains that the problem was not necessarily Greek songs as such, but that after the destruction of the Temple, people were not supposed to engage in music. Doeg was already lax in his practice when he was young, and this showed that he was spiritually impure from the beginning.
The Maharsha offers another explanation. Why does the Gemara call them Greek songs rather than simply songs? He explains that these were philosophical songs containing Greek ideas. Doeg was absorbing Greek philosophy through the songs, and that outlook contaminated him from the beginning.
The Gemara further says that when Doeg left the study hall, heretical books fell from his satchel. Even when he was young, he read books that he should not have been reading. This demonstrated that there was already an impurity in his heart at the beginning, which later emerged openly.
This also helps explain Tosafot on the first page. The Jerusalem Talmud gives several explanations for what happened to Elisha. One explanation is that he had many verses that he interpreted incorrectly, and his faulty interpretations caused him to abandon the path.
Another explanation is that he killed young people who were studying Torah. Any student he saw learning, he would kill. He also entered the place where the sages were studying and saw the students learning. He said, “What are these people doing here? They should become carpenters or businessmen and learn a trade. Why are they wasting their time studying?”
When he entered the study hall and intimidated them, they all left. The verse says that the end of a matter can be better than its beginning. Elisha expounded this as referring to a person who had children when he was young, but those children died, and then had children when he was old, who survived and continued his family. The latter part of his life was better than the beginning.
When Acher heard this interpretation, he said that Rabbi Akiva, Rabbi Meir’s teacher, did not explain the verse that way. Rabbi Akiva explained, “The end of a matter is good when it is better than its beginning.” Elisha then gave an example from his own life: “I am a living example of this interpretation.”
He said that his father, Avuya, was one of the important people in Jerusalem. On the day of Elisha’s circumcision, Avuya invited all the great people to a room. The two Torah scholars were in a separate room because they did not want to socialize with everyone else. They wished to devote themselves to learning, while the others were eating, drinking, and celebrating.
The scholars’ Torah learning began to surround the house, and Avuya said, “Have you come to burn down my house?” They replied that they had become so happy with their learning that it was like the giving of the Torah at Sinai. Was the Torah not given with fire? The fire surrounding the house was the fire of Sinai, a pleasant and holy fire.
Avuya then said, “I see the power of Torah. If my son lives, I am making a vow that I will separate him and designate him for the study of Torah.” But why did Avuya designate him for Torah? It was because of the fire and the impressive experience. His intention at the beginning was not entirely pure. That is why the Torah did not remain permanently within Elisha. He was saying that the end is good when the beginning is good, but his own beginning was defective. His father designated him for Torah because of the spectacle and the fire, not solely for the sake of Heaven.
The Gemara also relates that Elisha saw a person fulfilling the commandment of sending away the mother bird. The man sent away the mother and then climbed down from the tree, but he died. The Torah promises long life for these two commandments, and Elisha saw the opposite occur. This caused him to question the justice of the Torah and contributed to his abandoning the path.
Another incident involved Rabbi Yehudah HaNahtom, one of the great scholars of the generation, who was brutally murdered by the Romans. They took his tongue—the tongue that had spoken great Torah—and dragged it through the streets behind a dog. Elisha saw this and said, “This is Torah, and this is its reward.” He wondered how someone who had spoken so much Torah could suffer such a fate. That too caused him to go astray.
Rabbi Natan gives another contributing factor. Elisha passed by a place where food was being prepared for idolatry. He smelled the food and, driven by desire, ate from it. The food entered his system like the venom of a snake. This was another factor in his deterioration.
In the end, Elisha became ill. His rabbi came to visit him and said, “Repent.” Elisha asked, “If I repent, will they accept me?” This teaches that a person can repent until the very last second, until the final moment of life.
Elisha cried and died. Rabbi Meir said, “It appears to me that he died in repentance.” When they buried him, fire descended from Heaven and burned his grave.
Rabbi Meir removed his cloak and covered the grave. He said, “If God redeems you, then all is well. But if not, I will ensure that you are redeemed.” He applied the verse concerning the righteous person who saves someone from the fire. Rabbi Meir was saying that just as he had saved the grave from the fire, he would use the merit of the Torah to save Acher as well.
The Gemara concludes with a teaching attributed to Nimusa the Gardi, who asked Rabbi Meir a question. “All wool that enters the dyer’s vat—does it emerge from the vat dyed?” If the wool is clean, it absorbs the dye. If it is dirty, the dye will not take hold.
What was the question? Does the Torah protect a person who learns it from a teacher whose life is corrupt? Will the Torah save all the students who learn from such a rabbi?
The answer is that if the wool is clean—if the fear of sin precedes the student’s wisdom—then the dye will be absorbed. We may not know how wise the teacher is, but if the student possesses fear of sin and proper reverence for God before acquiring his wisdom, the Torah will protect him.
Those who enter the dyer’s vat eventually emerge from it. If the person had merits from his youth, if there was a period during which he was spiritually clean, or if he possessed other merits, it is possible for him to emerge even from Gehenna. This is what we saw in the case of Elisha ben Abuya.
Tosafot explains that when the fear of sin precedes a person’s wisdom, his wisdom endures. But if a person uses Torah merely as a tool and does not possess fear of Heaven, then the Torah will not protect him in the same way.