These are the words with which Moshe spoke harshly to the Jewish people “in the desert” (complaints about the deprivations of the desert) , “on the plains” (orgiastic idolatrous indulgence with the Moabite women), “facing the Red Sea” (complaint about their seemingly inevitable death at the hands of the onrushing Egyptians as the sea was splitting), between “Paran” (the staging ground of the spies) and “Smeared and White” (complaints about the manna) and “courtyards (the place of the rebellion of Korach) and “Plenty of Gold” (the calf, of course).
You’ve just seen Rashi’s reading of the first verse of Devarim. Taking his cue from the words of Rabbi Shimon in the Midrash – “we’ve gone through the entire Tanach and we haven’t found such place-names”, Rashi explains that what are presented in the form of place-names are actually veiled references to the great transgressions of the people over the last forty years. Moshe is reminding a new generation, poised to enter the Land, of their history and spiritual heritage. In the next thirty or so chapters, he will be rebuking them, and, through selective retelling of experiences most of those gathered did not share, he will be attempting to bring them to see the lurking dangers, hidden by this moment of emotional upheaval – taking leave of their beloved leader AND entering the promised land.
Moshe must choose carefully what parts of the long saga he emphasizes in his retelling, lest he allow their attention to flag at the wrong moments. So it is most important to see that the very first episode he relates is the appointing of judges as recommended by Yitro and confirmed by Hashem. The question of the crisis of leadership, especially in times of transition, has already proven to be critical in B’midbar, and now Moshe shows the roots of the problem to lie way back at Mt. Sinai.
Moshe cannot single-handedly deal with the burden of teaching, interceding for and judging the people (Ibn Ezra’s explanation of the terms, torchachem, masa’achem v’rivchem – Devarim 1:12). He tells them (vs. 13):
I’ve translated the description of the desired qualities NOT in accordance with Rashi. Rashi explains that the word vidu’im is connected with the word which follows it:
The problem with this interpretation, drawn from the Midrash, is that it explicitly contradicts the punctuation indicated by the trope markings. There, the word n’vonim carries a tvir, the melody of which, Rashi explains in a remark in Tetzaveh (Shemot 29:13) – “draws forward”. Picking up upon this, Ramban notes that the final word of the clause, lishivteichem, is not connected with the word vidu’im preceding it, as Rashi explains, but rather refers back to the opening words, as though the verse read, havu lachem l’shivteichem – “prepare for yourselves, for your tribes”.
So what about vidu’im? If it shouldn’t be interpreted to mean that the candidates must be “known to your tribes”, what does vidu’im mean? Ramban wishes to hold fast to the view that this is a passive participle: “known”, but rather than “known TO”, he explains it as “known AS” – known as worthy candidates for the office to which they would be appointed.
But Ramban’s explanation doesn’t solve the problem. Rather, it assumes too much – no where are all the appurtenances of his explanation – “worthy candidates for office” – made explicit. Therefore, Rabbi Ya’akov Mecklenburg, in his magisterial 19th century commentary, HaKetav veHaKabbalah, explains simply that vidu’im simple means “thoroughly knowledgeable”. He brings as a source for this explanation no less than the G’ra, and he also references the Targum Onkelos, who seems to explain similarly. By translating vidu’im as “thoroughly knowledgeable” – understanding it as an adjective, not as a passive participle - he allows the triad of hokhmah, binah and da’at to remain intact. As for the interpretation promoted by Rashi – he allows that that is the drash implied by the choice of the rare word, y’du’im, instead of yod’im.
This approach is so much more satisfactory – so OBVIOUSLY the Pshat – that one wonders why Rashi chose to go with the Midrash instead? Especially when Rashi himself, in a comment on Shemot 29:30, indicates that the trope tvir draws us on and connects to the word following it. When that word carries a tipchah (which it so often does) – a trop which is a higher order pause than a tvir, it means that the tvir becomes effectively conjuntive, and the phrase MUST be read as a whole, with the pause AFTER the word carrying the tipchah. Here, that would mean – wise, understanding and thoroughly knowledgable. Why does Rashi turn a blind eye to all this?
The key, I believe, is in Rashi’s explanation of the meaning of n’vonim and his subsequent comment on verse 15. N’vonim, stemming from the root B-W-N, means “to understand one thing from another” Rashi uses a parable to indicate that navon is someone who actively seeks the connections and implications of things; he doesn’t passively wait until a situation arises to which he reacts, but he sallies forth and seeks to apply his restless, G-d-given capacity to comprehend.
WISDOM/UNDERSTANDING/KNOWLEDGE – that tripartite representation of human mental activity is first presented in the Torah. Betzal’el, the builder of the Mishkan, is endowed with those qualities, and now we learn that judges must be similarly endowed. The translation and associated explanation of hokhmah, binah, and da’at most familiar to people is the one made famous by HABAD Hasidut – various commentators have construed the terms differently, starting with Rashi. But one thing is clear – these endowments function interactively with one another. Take away one, and the others will be hamstrung in their capacities.
On verse 15, Rashi explains why the word nevonim is missing: Moshe couldn’t FIND ANYONE amongst the people with the quality of being able, truly and deeply, to understand the connections between things and trace their implication to the end. So, he had to make due with candidates who still retained the other two endowments, wisdom and knowledge.
Now, our mystical tradition emphasizes that “knowledge” is not the amassing of facts, but rather the intimate familiarity with how things in practice connect up to become a whole. The faculty of knowledge, therefore, CANNOT function in a vacuum, and lacking its natural partner, binah (understanding), it will BIND to whatever it can – in this case, the masses.
Being “known” to the people, being “known” as a judge, are not of themselves bad things. Of course it is most useful, even necessary, for the leaders to have the kind of social standing which allows their words to be accepted as authoritative. But merely “wearing the mantle” of leadership, walking with the bearing of a leader, having deep connections with the people, cannot possibly take the place of a true ability to draw out the implications of developments and planned courses of action and adopt or avoid them accordingly. A leader of the first kind can “sell his wares” to the people, but if his wares turn out to be mere junk, disaster will ensue.
Over and over, we are presented with leaders who, on one hand, cultivate a connection with the people - and the right people - and, on the other hand, have visionary goals which drive them. What they lack so often – a lack for which we all pay the price – is the ability l’havin davar mitoch davar, to actively draw out and follow up implication, making decision on that basis. It’s hard work, neither as fun as disembodied da’at nor as inspiring as hokhmah reaching for the heavens. But without it, populism will decay into demagoguery, and vision into insanity. Moshe said, nevonim lo matzati – I didn’t find men of understanding, and that, I maintain, is the key to all of what follows in his stinging rebuke. Let’s accept the rebuke and start now to actively cultivate the missing link in our human mental/spiritual function, so that we can all be candidates for that most perfect of human vocations, outcome of all of our mental and spiritual faculties working in concert – prophecy!
You’ve just seen Rashi’s reading of the first verse of Devarim. Taking his cue from the words of Rabbi Shimon in the Midrash – “we’ve gone through the entire Tanach and we haven’t found such place-names”, Rashi explains that what are presented in the form of place-names are actually veiled references to the great transgressions of the people over the last forty years. Moshe is reminding a new generation, poised to enter the Land, of their history and spiritual heritage. In the next thirty or so chapters, he will be rebuking them, and, through selective retelling of experiences most of those gathered did not share, he will be attempting to bring them to see the lurking dangers, hidden by this moment of emotional upheaval – taking leave of their beloved leader AND entering the promised land.
Moshe must choose carefully what parts of the long saga he emphasizes in his retelling, lest he allow their attention to flag at the wrong moments. So it is most important to see that the very first episode he relates is the appointing of judges as recommended by Yitro and confirmed by Hashem. The question of the crisis of leadership, especially in times of transition, has already proven to be critical in B’midbar, and now Moshe shows the roots of the problem to lie way back at Mt. Sinai.
Moshe cannot single-handedly deal with the burden of teaching, interceding for and judging the people (Ibn Ezra’s explanation of the terms, torchachem, masa’achem v’rivchem – Devarim 1:12). He tells them (vs. 13):
Havu lachem anashim hakhamim un'vonim vidu’im k’shivtechem va’asimam b’rasheichem. “Ready for yourselves men, wise, understanding and thoroughly knowledgeable – for your tribes, and I shall place them upon your heads”.
I’ve translated the description of the desired qualities NOT in accordance with Rashi. Rashi explains that the word vidu’im is connected with the word which follows it:
“they are well-known to you; if he would come wrapped in his tallit (i.e., impressively garbed and therefore, “disguised”), I would not be able to identify him nor ascertain his qualities, but you would, because you know him since you’ve raised him from childhood.
The problem with this interpretation, drawn from the Midrash, is that it explicitly contradicts the punctuation indicated by the trope markings. There, the word n’vonim carries a tvir, the melody of which, Rashi explains in a remark in Tetzaveh (Shemot 29:13) – “draws forward”. Picking up upon this, Ramban notes that the final word of the clause, lishivteichem, is not connected with the word vidu’im preceding it, as Rashi explains, but rather refers back to the opening words, as though the verse read, havu lachem l’shivteichem – “prepare for yourselves, for your tribes”.
So what about vidu’im? If it shouldn’t be interpreted to mean that the candidates must be “known to your tribes”, what does vidu’im mean? Ramban wishes to hold fast to the view that this is a passive participle: “known”, but rather than “known TO”, he explains it as “known AS” – known as worthy candidates for the office to which they would be appointed.
But Ramban’s explanation doesn’t solve the problem. Rather, it assumes too much – no where are all the appurtenances of his explanation – “worthy candidates for office” – made explicit. Therefore, Rabbi Ya’akov Mecklenburg, in his magisterial 19th century commentary, HaKetav veHaKabbalah, explains simply that vidu’im simple means “thoroughly knowledgeable”. He brings as a source for this explanation no less than the G’ra, and he also references the Targum Onkelos, who seems to explain similarly. By translating vidu’im as “thoroughly knowledgeable” – understanding it as an adjective, not as a passive participle - he allows the triad of hokhmah, binah and da’at to remain intact. As for the interpretation promoted by Rashi – he allows that that is the drash implied by the choice of the rare word, y’du’im, instead of yod’im.
This approach is so much more satisfactory – so OBVIOUSLY the Pshat – that one wonders why Rashi chose to go with the Midrash instead? Especially when Rashi himself, in a comment on Shemot 29:30, indicates that the trope tvir draws us on and connects to the word following it. When that word carries a tipchah (which it so often does) – a trop which is a higher order pause than a tvir, it means that the tvir becomes effectively conjuntive, and the phrase MUST be read as a whole, with the pause AFTER the word carrying the tipchah. Here, that would mean – wise, understanding and thoroughly knowledgable. Why does Rashi turn a blind eye to all this?
The key, I believe, is in Rashi’s explanation of the meaning of n’vonim and his subsequent comment on verse 15. N’vonim, stemming from the root B-W-N, means “to understand one thing from another” Rashi uses a parable to indicate that navon is someone who actively seeks the connections and implications of things; he doesn’t passively wait until a situation arises to which he reacts, but he sallies forth and seeks to apply his restless, G-d-given capacity to comprehend.
WISDOM/UNDERSTANDING/KNOWLEDGE – that tripartite representation of human mental activity is first presented in the Torah. Betzal’el, the builder of the Mishkan, is endowed with those qualities, and now we learn that judges must be similarly endowed. The translation and associated explanation of hokhmah, binah, and da’at most familiar to people is the one made famous by HABAD Hasidut – various commentators have construed the terms differently, starting with Rashi. But one thing is clear – these endowments function interactively with one another. Take away one, and the others will be hamstrung in their capacities.
On verse 15, Rashi explains why the word nevonim is missing: Moshe couldn’t FIND ANYONE amongst the people with the quality of being able, truly and deeply, to understand the connections between things and trace their implication to the end. So, he had to make due with candidates who still retained the other two endowments, wisdom and knowledge.
Now, our mystical tradition emphasizes that “knowledge” is not the amassing of facts, but rather the intimate familiarity with how things in practice connect up to become a whole. The faculty of knowledge, therefore, CANNOT function in a vacuum, and lacking its natural partner, binah (understanding), it will BIND to whatever it can – in this case, the masses.
Being “known” to the people, being “known” as a judge, are not of themselves bad things. Of course it is most useful, even necessary, for the leaders to have the kind of social standing which allows their words to be accepted as authoritative. But merely “wearing the mantle” of leadership, walking with the bearing of a leader, having deep connections with the people, cannot possibly take the place of a true ability to draw out the implications of developments and planned courses of action and adopt or avoid them accordingly. A leader of the first kind can “sell his wares” to the people, but if his wares turn out to be mere junk, disaster will ensue.
Over and over, we are presented with leaders who, on one hand, cultivate a connection with the people - and the right people - and, on the other hand, have visionary goals which drive them. What they lack so often – a lack for which we all pay the price – is the ability l’havin davar mitoch davar, to actively draw out and follow up implication, making decision on that basis. It’s hard work, neither as fun as disembodied da’at nor as inspiring as hokhmah reaching for the heavens. But without it, populism will decay into demagoguery, and vision into insanity. Moshe said, nevonim lo matzati – I didn’t find men of understanding, and that, I maintain, is the key to all of what follows in his stinging rebuke. Let’s accept the rebuke and start now to actively cultivate the missing link in our human mental/spiritual function, so that we can all be candidates for that most perfect of human vocations, outcome of all of our mental and spiritual faculties working in concert – prophecy!
Comments