A Genius Is Born, But A Tzaddik Is Made and More Makkos 15-20

15

Truth or Torah: Rabbi Yochanan’s Retraction Dilemma

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph recounts a halachic discussion where Rabbi Yochanan’s colleagues challenge a teaching attributed to him, asking, “Did you indeed say this?” He replies, “I did not.” In fact, he had said it but later reversed his position (see Rashi).

Rabbi Yochanan’s denial, despite his retraction, raises the question of whether sources may be falsified for a “higher truth,” such as preserving the Torah’s honor. Aruch Laner (ibid) and Ritvah (ibid) suggest that Rabbi Yochanan’s student, Rabbah bar Chanah, altered the truth to protect his master’s honor.

Modern notions of truth and transparency don’t align with ancient mindsets. The Talmud often withholds or alters truth for various purposes such as to enforce an idea or to prevent transgression by the less learned. For example, in Eiruvin (51a), Rabbah attributes a halacha to Rav Yose for authority, though Rav Yose didn’t say it. A striking source, Tanna Debei Eliyahu Rabbah, reveals something remarkable about Moshe Rabbenu:

I testify with heaven and earth as my witnesses that the Holy One, blessed be He, did not tell Moses to stand at the gate of the camp and say, “Whoever is for the Lord, come to me,” nor to have each man put his sword on his thigh and kill his brother, his friend, and his kin, nor did He say, “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel…” Rather, Moses reasoned on his own and said in his heart: “If I say to Israel, ‘Each man kill his brother, his friend, and his kin,’ Israel will make a kal vachomer and say to me, ‘Did you not teach us, our teacher, in the Sanhedrin, that if a single soul from Israel is killed once in a week (seven year period), it is called a destroyer? Why then are you killing three thousand in one day?’” Therefore, he attributed it to the honor of the One above and said, “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Each man put his sword on his thigh…” (Exodus 32:27). What follows? Since he spoke in the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, immediately, “the sons of Levi did as Moses commanded” (Exodus 32:28).

Remarkably, even Moshe, the unimpeachable source of Torah, misrepresented his source for a noble purpose.

17

A Genius Is Born, But A Tzaddik Is Made

Our Gemara on Amud Beis records a striking statement:

Rava says with regard to Rabbi Shimon’s statement in the baraisa: Anyone whose mother is bearing a child who is like Rabbi Shimon (Bar Yochai), she should bear that child, and if not, it is preferable that she does not bear him at all.

Aggados often employ hyperbole (see Shiltei HaGiborim on Avodah Zarah 6a), but this passage is challenging. Why should a mother regret bearing any child, even one not on Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai’s level?

One interpretation is that this refers not to Torah erudition but to piety. Any child, regardless of intellectual capacity, can aspire to such piety. Thus, there’s no cause for regret, as a mother can guide her child toward this goal and pray for such at any time. A genius is born, but a tzaddik is made.

However, this may conflict with the pashut peshat, as Rava was impressed by Rabbi Shimon’s halachic erudition, evidenced by brilliant derashos and deductions preceding this statement. Yet, the Gemara concludes:

Rava added: And I say this even though there is a refutation for each of his conclusions.

Thus, Rava may have been impressed by Rabbi Shimon’s erudition, but since his arguments were refuted, piety might indeed be the focus.

18  Commission Impossible

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph quotes Devarim (12:17):

You may not (lo suchal) eat within your gates the tithe of your grain.

The Hebrew lo suchal literally translates as “you cannot,” not “you may not.” How can it say “you cannot” when one is physically able to do so, despite the prohibition?

Kesav Vehakabbalah explains that prior strong admonitions make the taboo so intense that it feels like one cannot violate it. Stories of Gedolim reflect this. It’s said that Rav Moshe, when he saw a boy davening Shemoneh Esreh blocking his path, stood still as if facing a brick wall (per Shulchan Aruch O.C. 102:4, though a difficult law to commonly adhere to.) Similarly, a friend recounted that Rav Gustman ZT”L, walking to shul early Shabbos morning in Jerusalem, refused to cross a street against a red “do not walk” sign, despite no cars being present (given the time and place), as if it were physically impossible.

Tiferes Shlomo (R’eh) offers another view. Certain holiness, like eating maaser in Jerusalem or at a tzaddik’s table, cannot be replicated elsewhere. The verse emphasizes that you cannot eat maaser as maaser outside its designated context.

Thus, the text’s provocative language conveys two messages: either a state where violating Torah is unthinkable, akin to impossibility, or a recognition that what seems possible is hollow without its proper spiritual context.

19 Stairway to Heaven

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph debates the status of Eretz Yisrael post-exile, questioning whether the initial conquest of Israel’s holiness persists, affecting mitzvos like tithing and holy foods exclusive to the land. Similarly, does the Temple’s sanctity endure, obligating one to bring firstborn animals to Jerusalem while the Temple stands? The Gemara states, “The initial consecration of the Temple sanctified Jerusalem for its time and sanctified Jerusalem forever.”

Ben Porat Yosef applies this poetically to Yaakov’s exile to Charan (Bereishis 28:10-12):

Jacob left Beer-sheba, and set out for Haran. He encountered (vayifga) a certain place and stopped there for the night, for the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of that place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place. He had a dream; a stairway was set on the ground and its top reached to the sky, and messengers of God were going up and down on it.

Why does the verse separate “left Beer-sheba” and “set out for Haran” instead of saying, “Jacob went from Beer-sheba to Charan”? Ben Porat suggests it highlights two journey aspects: leaving spiritual shelter (Beer-sheba, “well of the oath,” symbolizing the soul’s attachment to God via its in-utero oath to be righteous see Niddah 30b) and entering a material world (Charan, implying potential divine wrath).

Even in spiritual pursuits, one may descend before ascending, symbolized by angels moving up and down the ladder. The plural language reflects dual facets in both physical and spiritual realms.

Halachically, the sanctity of Eretz Yisrael from the first conquest lapses upon exile, but the Temple’s sanctity, derived from the Shekhina’s spiritual presence, endures. Similarly, holiness through attachment to God persists despite temporary lapses. For Yaakov, and all of us, engaging in material pursuits while recovering holiness requires prayer and Torah study, represented by “encountered (vayifga, implying prayer)” and “stones (Torah letters, per Sefer Yetzira).”

This waxing and waning pattern applies to spiritual pursuits too, as ideas and emotions guide us variably. Trusting passions and emotions, to some extent, is necessary, reflecting a divine pattern of fluctuation in all existence.

20 God Does Not Cut Corners in Creation

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph discusses the prohibition of shaving the corners of the head. Bereishis Rabbah (11:6) offers a relevant exchange:

A philosopher asked Rabbi Hoshaya, “If circumcision is so dear to God, why was it not given to Adam?” Rabbi Hoshaya replied, “Why do you shave the corner of your head but leave the corner of your beard?” (Authors note: a dig at Yushka for violating the commandment to not shave the peyos.) The philosopher said, “Because this [head hair] grew with me in my period of foolishness.” (Author’s note: I believe he is referring to a time prior to their deity’s epiphany.) Rabbi Hoshaya retorted, “If so, you should put out your eye, sever your hands, and break your legs, as they too grew in your period of foolishness.” The philosopher said, “Have we come to such frivolous arguments?” Rabbi Hoshaya responded, “I cannot dismiss you without an answer. Everything created during the six days of Creation requires action to perfect it: mustard needs sweetening, lupines need sweetening, wheat needs grinding. Even man needs to be perfected.”

This reflects a core Jewish theological concept: part of existence is meant for us to restore to God. Physical entities are inherently distanced from God, and their volitional return to the Creator is meaningful and satisfying, though the reasons elude full comprehension.

Maharal (Tiferes Yisrael 3) elaborates beautifully. An animal is born complete, its instincts enabling it to function within hours. A human, however, requires over a decade of parental guidance to survive. This is reflected in their Hebrew names: Behemah (animal) implies bah mah “what is in it?” showing no hidden potential, while Adam (man), from Adamah (earth), signifies potential to cultivate wondrous outcomes, like earth yielding produce. Sanctifying or elevating body parts, such as through Bris Milah or leaving certain areas untouched such as the corners of one’s head or beard, is our task—not because God’s creation is imperfect, but because He desires our partnership in bringing creation back to Him.