Between Midrash and Mishna: Reading Tannaitic Literature (the Open University, 2019) [Hebrew]
Ishay Rosen-Zvi, Tel-Aviv University
The Tannaitic period saw two major literary creations - Mishna and Midrash. Each of these was revolutionary in its own way, each represents a dramatic shift relative to the genres of literature that preceded it. While earlier treatment of law had been piecemeal and directly linked to the Bible, the Mishna presented, for the first time in the history of Jewish literature, a comprehensive legal system independent of the Bible. It includes a strikingly wide range of legal topics, from ritual law to monetary damages to capital legislation to marital status and more. While some of the laws have precedent in the Bible, others are utterly new, and although some of the halakhic traditions date back to an earlier period, in the Mishna these laws are first formed into a comprehensive, independent legal system.
But why does the Mishna fashion a new Torah? Why can it not settle for expanding upon the old? Why can it not, at least formally, preserve a connection to the written Torah? Not only does the Mishna quote relatively few Biblical verses, it rarely makes explicit the connections that actually exist between the laws it presents and their Biblical sources. A clear example is the four species used on Sukkot, which the Mishnah name differently than the Torah, while curiously avoiding any attempt to tie the new terms to their Biblical counterpart. What is the conception of Torah that allows for the creation of such an expansive legal system that is detached from the Bible?
Midrash, the other major literary work of the Tannaitic period, was also utterly innovative. Unlike Mishna, Tannaitic Midrash does present a consistent running commentary on the books of the Pentateuch (with the exception of the book of Genesis.) In contrast to some of its predecessors during the Second Temple period, Midrashic interpretation is not allegorical, and it does not seek to reveal the hidden meaning of a cryptic text. But Midrash is also not concerned with arriving at the simplest possible meaning of the text. Instead, it uses unique interpretive techniques to draw out laws, meaning, and messages from every word and phrase in the Torah. Through these methods of close reading and extraction, the writers of Midrash shape the Torah into a document the laws and lessons of which are relevant to the readers of their time.
Although Midrash often presents as a commentary on the Bible, as such it remains a puzzle for the modern reader. Anyone who learns Midrash, either in its Tannaitic or its later Amoraic form is taken aback by the gap between the Biblical verses and the midrashic conclusions. Why does the midrash diverge from more straightforward readings of the text? Are we even meant to see these far off drashot as interpretations or are they motivated by other factors entirely? What conception of the text lies at the core of the interpretive act and allows for such dramatic manipulations of the text?
Between Mishna and Midrash is a new introduction to these two compositions. It is based on two courses (Intro to Mishnah and Tosefta and Intro to Tannaitic midrash) I have been teaching at Tel-Aviv University since 2006. I had many years of tweaking and revising the material, and so could try out several organizing principles. Ultimately, I decided that the most useful (and, as student feedback affirmed - stimulating) manner of organizing these two introductions is to tackle the puzzles that lie at the core of each of the compositions – that of the Mishna as a new Torah and that of the uniquely innovative hermeneutics of the Midrash. And there is of course a third puzzle – that of the relationship between the two works: How could the same study houses produce two distinct legal compositions, which seem to come from such different points of departure? One the one hand, there is independent juristic endeavor, and on the other hand, line by line engagement with scripture.
This study therefore attempts to do two things simultaneously: it presents a broad, extensive picture of these compositions and at the same time attempts to decode the underlying epistemic projects. In this latter context the book is a somewhat conservative project. It stands apart from new scholarly trends that frame these corpora reductively, either in sociopolitical history (where were the sages located in the provincial Roman hierarchy? who heeded them?) or in a comparative historical context (how are they relate to the evolving status of the Roman jurist? How do they fit in with the Second Sophistic movement that flourished at that time among Greek speaking intellectuals under Rome?) while I discuss these and other contexts, my main goal is to decode these rabbinic works as intellectual projects, whose logic and telos should be understood on their own terms.
One major obstacle facing such a project is that these works were composed for members of the house of study. They contain no introductions or basic guidelines. The Mishna never begins at the beginning. On the contrary, tractates tend to open with meticulous discussions of timing and measurements: the period for the evening prayer, the height of the Sukkah, the size of the eruv, and so forth. For its part, Midrash operates under rigid and highly complex hermeneutic rules, but these rules are never explicitly disclosed. In this sense, both compositions are esoteric. They do not contain the theological ‘mysteries’ we encounter in esoteric mystical texts, but they are composed (orally!) for an exclusive audience - members of the house of study.
This insider-speak presents a particular challenge in writing a volume that is meant to be introductory. The first question I struggled with was how many layers of introduction are required to explain what is at stake in a Mishna like: התכלת אינו מעכב את הלבן, הלבן אינו מעכב את התכלת״ (lit.: “the azure does not forestall the white, the white does not forestall the azure)” (m. Menachot 4:1) or a homily like: ״ביום ההוא יאכל – אם אינו עניין לאכילה, תניהו עניין לזביחה״ (lit.: “’It must be eaten that same day- if it does not discuss eating, let it discuss sacrifice) (Sifra Tzav 7:2). What is required here is not just a line by line explanation and explication of the Halakhic terms and categories (a short commentary attached to each citation serves this function), but also a detailed account of the language game that is at play here. In other words, we need to ask at every stage: what exactly it is that they are doing?
Mediating and curating these materials for the modern reader thus requires extensive introductory work: the background, the terminology, the ‘rules of the game’. This is a massive lacuna in current scholarship. Many great studies exist on Mishna and Midrash, but most of these are every bit as esoteric as the compositions they discuss. Existing introductory texts, conversely, are mostly preoccupied with historical and bibliographic information and do not attempt to ease the reader into the world of Mishna and Midrash, into their textual presuppositions and world view. While there are several introductions that teach one ‘how to engage’ the Babylonian Talmud (Bavli), no such work exists that teaches readers how to read Mishna or Midrash. But these two compositions are a critical foundation without which one cannot truly grasp the Talmuds or the Halakhic literature of the Middle Ages and beyond.
Since this book is primarily about how to read, I did not go through an extensive history of scholarship for its own sake, (though I did attempt to give credit to pioneers, such as the midrash reconstructions of David Zvi Hoffman and his turn of the century peers). Instead, my main goal was presenting scholarly positions and debates to create a bridge between the achievements of critical research that emerged primarily from the US (Midrashic hermeneutics, orality studies, culture criticism, gender studies, etc’) and the philological achievements that have been at the center of scholarship in the Israeli Talmud departments (and some European venues.)
I sought to cater to both the novice reader and the advanced student and scholar by presenting both an introductory perspective and a curated synthesis of the recent achievements of scholarship. I attempted to combine these different goals by distinguishing between the narrative of the main text, primary sources with an attached commentary, and hundreds of footnotes that add bibliographic references and expansion.
The book thus combines three different levels, separated graphically: a) a standard textbook that provides all of the necessary background; b) readings of and commentaries on hundreds of Mishnayot and Midrashic passages, in order to show ‘how they actually work;’ c) a systematic presentation of the state of the art of scholarship. It is my hope that this choice provides readers a path into the unique discursive world of the early rabbis.
Note: the book can be purchased here: https://sheilta.apps.openu.ac.il/pls/dlamdal/lamda.perut?p_katalog=108155029