Relooking, Relearning: Nachash v. Tannin

Parshat Va'era            

by Rabbi Avi Billet

It is time to set the record straight. 

The undertaking of this weekly dvar torah is often driven by a desire to find new approaches to oft-repeated ideas in our understanding of the Torah.

            

By "new" I mean "not the way you've been learning it since second grade."

Rashbam (Rashi's grandson who disagreed with him on a number of interpretations) writes at the beginning of Parshat Vayeshev (37:2) (shortly before he explains how Yosef's brothers did not sell him!), that he was talking with his grandfather Rashi who told him that if he only had the time "haya tzarich" - he would "have needed" - to rewrite his commentary on account of the novel ideas which come to him on a daily basis.

            

So if Rashi would argue with Rashi, we must get out of the box that says there is only way to learn. "Shivim Panim La'Torah" (there are 70 faces to the Torah) is how we are to learn – it is not meant to be a buzzword or phrase.

            

To bring some examples in narrative: Identifying ages of people – Avraham when (if) he was thrown into a fire, and when he discovered God; Yitzchak at the Akedah; Rivkah at her marriage; Shimon and Levi (and Dinah!) in Shechem; Moshe when he kills the Egyptian; the age of every Pharaoh we meet.

            

Some narrative tales: Og and the Ark, Noach being attacked by a lion, that Yishmael tried to kill baby Yitzchak, Yitzchak becoming blind because of the angel's tears at the Akedah, every image of "malachim"/messengers of God our minds have concocted, that Eliezer's camels flew across the desert, that Rachel gave Leah signs (maybe Lavan got Yaakov drunk), that Yosef knew a language Pharaoh didn't know, that the brothers sold Yosef, that Eisav was killed at Yaakov's funeral, that Moshe had a speech impediment (because he put coal on his mouth as a baby in Pharaoh's palace!), that Moshe did not strike the water to turn it into blood, and our identification of plagues involving animals (tzfardea, kinim, arov, arbeh).  

           

Much of our knowledge is embedded in us because school teachers love to teach Midrash stories. But the "Drash" part is meant to teach lessons. A story without a lesson is a fluffing of the Torah. Raise your hand if you have been extremely disappointed when you discovered as an adult that some of the things you had been taught as gospel truth are not even in the Torah. I thought so. Time to move past it, my friend. You are no longer in 2nd grade.

            

So let us dispel a rumor here and now.

            

I dutifully accept that the "signs and wonders" that are described in the Torah happened. I marvel that in a number of instances the Egyptian necromancers "did it as well" (7:11-12; 7:22; 8:3) until 8:14 (the plague of kinim/lice) when they were unable to mirror the act, and declared the plague to be coming from the Finger of God (8:15). If they were able to do it as well (even if they were using trickery and not "real" magic) that is some incredible feat! If I were Pharaoh, I wouldn't believe Moshe and Aharon either when they morph a staff, and bring forth blood and frogs.

            

But the one thing that is unexplainable to me is how the words "Nachash" and "Tannin" became interchangeable. At the burning bush, Moshe was given a sign to convince the Israelites he was sent by God, through his staff turning into a Nachash – which we understand as a snake. He performed this for the people in 4:30, and they believed him.

            

In our parsha, the instruction is given to Aharon to throw his own staff, so that it may turn into a "Tannin" before Pharaoh. Rashi immediately explains Tannin with one word: "Nachash." (snake/serpent) Why does he do that? Or, a better question, how could he do that?

            

The first time the word Tannin appears in the Torah is in Bereshit 1:21. There, Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan translates what God created on the fifth day (Hataninim hagdolim) to mean, 

"Sea Monsters or 'whales,' or 'dragons.' Taninim in Hebrew; see Exodus 7:9. The Midrash states that it alludes to a pair of particularly great sea creatures, the Leviathan and its mate. See Isaiah 27:1, Psalms 74:14, 104:26, Job 3:8, 40:25."

It is not claimed to be a large snake - neither an anaconda or a python.

On 7:9, after translating "Tanin" as a viper, Rabbi Kaplan explains the term, 

"Tanin in Hebrew. Some say that this is the same snake (nachash) that it became at the Burning Bush (Exodus 4:3), see Exodus 7:15 (Rashi; Lekach Tov; Radak, Sherashim, s.v. tanan). Others say that by the Burning Bush, God gave Moses a sign for the Israelites, but before Pharaoh, the staff turned into a crocodile (Ibn Ezra; K'li Yekar), and that this was Aaron's staff and not Moses' (K'li Yekar, Zohar)."

The Shmot 7:15 reference is not a good proof, because Moshe is clearly being told to strike the water with his own staff there, the one which had turned to a snake (nachash).

            

Who really cares if it was a snake or a crocodile? Does it matter? Isn't it miraculous either way? Yes. But the Torah records two different animals because there were two different animals. And because each animal, in its own way, was important and significant.

            

The snake may have been to teach Moshe not to speak Lashon Hara about the Israelites over their not believing him. But the Midrash says it was also a symbol for Israel, against Pharaoh - who is compared to a snake, either as a deity, or as one who "bites" Israel - that Pharaoh, the snake, will be defeated by the staff, and he will ultimately become wood. Just as the stick does not bite, Pharaoh will no longer be able to bite. This is also symbolized in the grabbing of its tail – something no snake handler would do – you completely "own" it.

            

As for the Tannin, that was a message for Pharaoh alone. The Midrash Rabba (9:4) quoted by Chizkuni, Baal Haturim and others points to the fact that Pharaoh referred to himself as a Tannin (based on Yechezkel 29:3 – where Rabbi Kaplan translated it, "I against you Pharaoh, the great crocodile, who lurks within his rivers"), and the message was, "Just as this Matteh (staff) turns into a crocodile, consumes the other mattot (staffs), and will return to be wood again, you consume the 12 mattot (tribes) now, but you too will turn to dry wood and die."

            

So, in essence, there was a deeper message to be sent through the staff turning to a crocodile before Pharaoh, than that this is just a cool magic trick. We ought not to take the easy party line that "nachash = tannin, the staff always turns to a snake."

            

There are different staffs and different messages being sent to those who see God's wonders, each group according to their needs and their specific relationship with God. Moshe heard one message, the Israelites heard a different message, and there was one message assigned special for Pharaoh.

            

This lesson is not limited to our understanding of Torah narrative, but reflects the reality of our existence. Every event that unfolds is meant to teach something unique those who experience it, each person or group according to their needs in their lives under God's watchful eye.

Human Development in Two Worlds

Parshat Tazria Metzora

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 Due to their not (yet) having been translated by the Jewish publishing houses much of the midrashic library is a treasure-trove of untouched gemstone mines. It is particularly fertile ground for rabbis to utilize in homiletical discourses, because not all Midrash is meant to be understood literally. Frankly, much of midrash can not be understood literally – an essential point to bear in mind before exploring any midrashic passage.

 It is fascinating to read through certain midrashim – and without the crutch of a translation, because it leaves the midrash open to interpretation, as well as the derivation of either important lessons, important messages, or both.

Parshat Tazria opens with laws and practices surrounding giving birth and the aftermath of boy or girl's arrival, vis-à-vis the baby's mother's responsibilities.

The Yalkut Shimoni on Tazria 547 recounts a debate between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel in which they differ over how the fetus develops versus how a parallel development takes place in the World to Come. 

Beit Shammai says "In this world, the flesh and skin develops first, followed by the sinews and bones. In the World to Come, the sinews and bones develop first, and the completion is the development of skin and flesh." He proves this analysis from Yechezkel's depiction of the Dry Bones coming to life (37:8).

On the other hand, Beit Hillel thinks the two developments pan out in the same ways. "In this world the skin and flesh develops first, and [the body] is completed with the sinews and bones. In the future as well, development will begin with skin and flesh and will be completed with the sinews and bones." He proves his analysis from a comment made by Iyov in Iyov 10:9-11.

What are they talking about?

Unlike questions of a "halakhic" nature, I don't believe the conclusion to this difference of opinion is particularly important. But the debate does give us pause to consider how people develop – not only physically, but spiritually. Bones and cartilage certainly begin developing in the fetus two months into a pregnancy, long after the (somewhat) human shape has formed its skin. This is a fact that everyone – even Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel – can take for granted and cannot argue otherwise.

 Aside from the physical reality, the message of human development would seem to suggest that the vessel is created first, and then the human has the opportunity to develop what shape or form the vessel will take. Please read the following descriptive words with their multiple meanings intended: will the person be tall and straight or bent and crooked? Will the mind be full or empty? Will the vessel be growth-oriented to reach great potential or will it be sedentary and take the shape of the couch it sits on its entire life? These are questions we can all appreciate.

But what about the end of life? What will be in future, or in the World to Come? Many rabbinic figures of the past have weighed in on what the World to Come means and what it will be like for all of us on some "other side." I am not interested in entering that conversation, because I am comfortable saying "I honestly have no idea." But Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel, in this minor debate, shared with us what their opinions are.

If some version of the World to Come refers to a resurrection of the dead, with former bodies somehow being reformed from DNA, then their debate in the physical realm of how bodies will be recreated speaks for itself.

But if the reality they speak of is a spiritual development, I think there is no harm in suggesting that the two approaches will both be influenced by how a person leads and lives life in this world.

 According to Beit Shammai, the bones and sinews will develop first. This would indicate that the form or shape that a person created in life will inform the person's reformulation in the World to Come.

In Beit Hillel's approach, on the other hand, one's "rebirth" is exactly as was one's original birth. In other words, one gets a new slate, just as each person had the first time around.

 There is no question that both Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai would advocate living life to one's full potential – an honest, ethical, and morally upright existence. Their sons and daughters married one another because they respected each other greatly (Yevamot 14b). In a different realm, they also discussed the merits of living versus never having been born and concluded that now that we are born, we must constantly review, and presumably improve, our deeds (Eruvin 13b). But both approaches to the World to Come provide insight as to the long term merits of one's ethical existence.

Beit Shammai would seem to leave little room for error, while Beit Hillel would seem to leave open the possibility that no one is perfect, and every one of us will have the chance to try again to "get it right" in a world-to-come existence.

May we merit to get it right the first time, with no regrets.