In this week’s double parasha, Nitzavim-Vayelekh, Moses relays the famous words lo bashamayim hi, that the Torah “is not in Heaven”. It comes within Moses’ final inspiring speech to the nation. He tells his people, again, to serve God “with all your heart and all your soul”, and to always remember that Torah law is “not concealed from you, nor is it far away. It is not in Heaven, that you should say ‘Who will go up to Heaven for us and fetch it for us, to relay it to us, so that we can fulfill it?’ Nor is it across the ocean…” (Deuteronomy 30:10-13) The Torah is right here for us, available to all, clear and straight-forward.

This notion seems somewhat at odds with what we are typically told that Jewish law is really complicated, and requires rabbis and scholars to elucidate it for us. Indeed, the Torah does also say that Moses appointed wisemen to help him adjudicate cases and interpret Torah law for the nation (Exodus 18), and that Moses gathered seventy elders to guide the people (Numbers 11)—the basis for the Sanhedrin. And one of the most famous disputes in the Sanhedrin of the 2^nd Century CE ended with Rabbi Yehoshua quoting Moses’ words from this week’s parasha: “It is not in Heaven!”

The Talmudic passage in question begins at the bottom of Bava Metzia 59a. It is prefaced by a teaching that a man should be extra careful with honouring his wife because “blessing is found in a person’s home only because of his wife, as it is stated ‘And he dealt well with Abram for her sake…’” (Genesis 12:16) From here, the Talmud strangely jumps into a debate about the status of a particular oven belonging to one called Akhnai. If an oven was cut into segments, and there was sand between each segment, Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus (“the Great”) holds that the oven is not susceptible to impurity, while the majority of rabbis hold that it is. (Rashi explains that Rabbi Eliezer does not consider such an oven to be earthenware [kli heres] but the rabbinic majority did.) The Talmud then wonders what is the deeper reason for calling this oven a tanur shel akhnai? Rav Yehuda answers that akhna means “snake”, symbolizing the fact that the rabbis were like “snakes” that trapped Rabbi Eliezer and refused to concede despite all the excellent arguments he made.

Rabbi Eliezer then resorted to miracles to prove his point. He said that if he is correct, the carob tree outside the study hall would rip itself out of the ground as proof. Moments later, the carob tree uprooted itself and flew a hundred cubits (or even four hundred cubits!) away. The rabbis didn’t give up and said: “We don’t bring proof from carob trees!” So, Rabbi Eliezer tried again and said that if he is right, the “column of water” would prove it. Right away, the stream outside the study hall reversed course and flowed backwards! The rabbis responded: “We don’t bring proof from columns of water!” Rabbi Elizer persisted and said that if he is right, the walls of the study hall would prove it. Immediately, the walls started to shake and cave in. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananiah stepped in and told the walls not to get involved in a dispute between Torah scholars, so they froze in a crooked state.

Finally, Rabbi Eliezer said that if he is right, Heaven itself will prove it, and suddenly a Heavenly voice (bat kol) resounded and said something like: “Why are you arguing with Rabbi Eliezer? Don’t you know he is always right?” That’s when Rabbi Yehoshua stood up, gazed at the Heavens, and said: lo bashamayim hi! “It is not in Heaven!” What did this mean? Rabbi Yirmiya explained that since God gave the Torah to us at Sinai, it is now ours to interpret, and God himself said that we should rule on legal matters by majority vote (Exodus 23:2). Here, the majority of rabbis were voting against Rabbi Eliezer and, even if he may be technically right, the law should follow the majority as God instructed. Rabbi Natan later met the angel-prophet Eliyahu and asked him how God had reacted up in Heaven. Eliyahu reported that God smiled and said: nitzchuni banai, nitzchuni banai, “My children have overruled Me, My children have overruled Me!”

The story doesn’t end so happily, though. The Sages went further and decided that Rabbi Eliezer is being a rebel and not playing by the rules. They excommunicated him, but were afraid to deliver the message since he was the greatest among them and spiritually the most powerful. Beloved student Rabbi Akiva ended up doing it, very gently. Still, Rabbi Eliezer shed a tear and he was so tremendous of an individual that it caused a third of the world’s olive, wheat, and barley crop to perish! Meanwhile, the president of the Sanhedrin, Rabban Gamliel, had gone out on a sea voyage and suddenly a massive tsunami headed his way. Rabban Gamliel stood up and said to God: “Master of the Universe, it is revealed and known before You that I did not act neither for my own honour nor for the honour of my father’s house; rather, it was for Your honour, so that disputes will not proliferate in Israel!” The sea then calmed and Rabban Gamliel was spared.

This was only temporary, though. Rabbi Eliezer’s sadness had not subsided, and when he next put down his head in heartfelt prayer, Rabban Gamliel died. Rabbi Eliezer was actually married to Rabban Gamliel’s sister, Ima-Shalom. She knew immediately that her brother had died, and when Rabbi Eliezer questioned her about it, she said she had a solid tradition in her family that all the Heavenly gates of prayer have been locked except the gates of those who have been unfairly mistreated. The heartfelt prayer of such a mistreated person would surely have a powerful effect.

What do we make of this puzzling story?

Three Global Sins

One cannot help but notice a connection between the three signs that Rabbi Eliezer gave: a tree, a column of water, and the walls of the building. I believe that the tree, called a haruv, literally “destruction”, is an allusion to the Tree in the Garden of Eden that brought death into the world. The column of water is an allusion to the next major catastrophe recorded in the Torah: the Great Flood. After that, the Torah recounts the story of the Tower of Babel, alluded to by the crumbling walls of the study hall. What was Rabbi Eliezer trying to say by linking to history’s first three global tragedies?

Our Sages pinpoint the exact place where the Nachash, the Primordial Serpent, trapped Eve in the Garden of Eden (see Sefer haBahir, #200). It was when Eve said that God had warned: “You shall not eat of it or touch it, lest you die.” (Genesis 3:3) The truth is that God never said not to touch it, only not to eat it. Knowing this, the Nachash gave Eve a little push and she touched the Tree—and didn’t die. This proved to her that there is no harm in touching or eating the Tree, so she went ahead to eat it. What was the problem? Eve had added an extra unnecessary “fence” to the law, one that God never commanded. This led to her breaking God’s actual mitzvah. The message is clear: don’t complicate the law and add extras that God never intended! (The Talmud in Sanhedrin 29a phrases it this way: “Whoever adds, diminishes!”)

Recall that when Beit Shammai added 18 stringencies (see Yerushalmi, Shabbat 1:4), Rabbi Yehoshua (the same one!) responded that they had “erased the measure”, meaning that Judaism would become too difficult and not only will people transgress rabbinic stringencies, they will also end up transgressing Torah law. The result would be an erasure of all halakhah. Interestingly, Rabbi Eliezer seemed to approve when it came to Beit Shammai, but now (years later), he made the opposite case, ruling that the oven was kosher while the rabbinic majority went stringent and ruled not kosher. Rabbi Eliezer believed this was an unnecessary prohibition, something extra like in the time of Eve.

With this in mind, we can understand why the object in question was called a “snake oven”, tanur shel akhnai, alluding to the serpent in Eden. And we can further understand why the passage appears here in the Talmud, segueing from a teaching that a man should always honour his wife, and that blessing comes to the home through the wife. If Adam and Eve had no issues, and Adam would have been there by Eve’s side, the Nachash would never have struck, and death would not enter the world, and the home of Adam and Eve would still be blessed!

There was a similar message with the second sign. God had decreed the waters of the Flood 120 years beforehand so that Noah could prepare for it. Noah should have used that time to do kiruv and educate his fellows. Instead, he took a more insular approach and focused on his own teshuvah. For this reason, the Sages partly blamed Noah and explained this is why the floodwaters were called mei Noach (as in Isaiah 54:9), for he held partial responsibility. I believe that by recalling the Flood, Rabbi Eliezer was again symbolically pointing out to the rabbis that they were being too insular. Sure, devoted Torah scholars can take on extra stringencies and rituals without worry, but what about the Jewish masses? The religion will become much too difficult for them, and they’ll end up throwing it away entirely and becoming sinners. And that would inevitably result in more “floodwaters”.

Finally, Rabbi Eliezer recalled the Tower of Babel episode. That generation had a huge ego and thought they could conquer the Heavens with their extensive knowledge of divine secrets. Rabbi Eliezer reminded the rabbis to be humble and not let their Torah knowledge make them haughty. They didn’t know better than God, and could not “conquer” the Heavens. Thus, when the rabbis still refused to heed him, Rabbi Eliezer had Heaven itself send a message. And still the rabbis didn’t relent, maintaining that they certainly could conquer and overrule even the Heavens! And they were right, because God smiled and admitted defeat, happily.

How could it be?

Rectifying the Past, Preserving the Future

The Sages of that Sanhedrin were well aware of Rabbi Eliezer’s points. They responded to his challenge by affirming that what they were doing was, in fact, correct (and, I think, a tikkun on the mystical level for those three ancient tragedies). Eve had added a false “fence” that was indeed unnecessary. But the fence that the rabbis were adding here was necessary. It was a fence on tanur shel akhnai, the “snake oven”, meant to keep the Primordial Serpent away. Their fence was a tikkun for Eve’s faulty fence. And it would serve to prevent more people from sinning, to avert another flood. Noah may not have had other people in mind, but the rabbis did. They were rectifying his error, too. And finally, the rabbis were not doing it for their own honour or gain, as president Rabban Gamliel himself declared that it was done strictly for the sake of Heaven.

Besides, the Torah says to make halakhic decisions based on majority rule, and the majority decided that rendering the oven impure was the right way to go. The fact that Rabbi Eliezer was the brightest or holiest among them was irrelevant; individual opinions don’t count. The bat kol from Heaven was a test. The rabbis passed it, and God smiled. The lesson is clear: we don’t blindly follow individuals, and we don’t make a cult of personality around a singular rabbi—no matter how great and holy and righteous he might be, even if he can work wonders, and even if he can bring down a voice from Heaven! If the rabbis had deferred to Rabbi Eliezer, it would set a dangerous precedent, and might lead in the future to the idolization of individual sages. That’s probably why the Sages went so far as to excommunicate Rabbi Eliezer, a most harsh penalty.

There is a very important message here. No individual rabbi or scholar has the ability to make definitive rulings for the entire nation; the Torah never allowed for such things. There used to be a Sanhedrin where scholars could debate an issue and come to a conclusion. Even after the formal Sanhedrin in Jerusalem faded, there was a centralized study hall where all the top scholars gathered—in Israel and in Babylon—ultimately producing the two Talmuds. But this reality ended about 1500 years ago. Since then, there has been no place where a majority of top scholars can gather and debate issues and make universal decrees. This is precisely what prompted the Rambam to put together his Mishneh Torah.

In his introduction to the code, the Rambam explains how since the end of the era of majority rule, individual rabbis from around the world have been making a variety of rulings leading to great confusion about Jewish law. The Rambam thus put together a universal code, based on the authentic majority rulings of the Mishnaic, Talmudic, and early Geonic periods. And now that there are no formal majority opinions, no one has the authority to add anything to the law. That’s why the Rambam guarantees in his introduction that a person who studies the Mishneh Torah will not need any other book of Jewish law at all (שֶׁלֹּא יְהֵא אָדָם צָרִיךְ לְחִבּוּר אַחֵר בָּעוֹלָם בְּדִין מִדִּינֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל). The Rambam would argue that anything not in the Mishneh Torah is, at best, a custom and not bone fide, binding Jewish law. It’s important to keep this in mind when navigating any halakhic issue.

Nonetheless, since the publication of the Mishneh Torah, Jewish law has gotten more and more complicated, with endless individual opinions confusing the right practices. Understandably, recent halakhic works often try to synthesize all the disparate opinions from across the centuries, resulting in a system that is overloaded, convoluted, and extra stringent. Worse yet, we now have entirely different sets of halakhah for Ashkenazim and Sephardim, for Hasidim and non-Hasidim, and so on. Jewish law was never meant to be this complicated and this divided! In fact, the Talmud (Yevamot 13b) interprets the mitzvah of lo titgodedu (not to cut one’s self) on a deeper level as referring to not dividing Judaism into agudot, “camps”. As a people, we should not “cut ourselves” up into different groups practicing different halakhot. This only ends up sowing division, chaos, and even sinat hinam.

We say regularly in our prayers (quoting II Samuel 7:23, וּמִי כְעַמְּךָ כְּיִשְׂרָאֵל גּוֹי אֶחָד בָּאָרֶץ) that we are unique in the world in being a singular nation: “Who is a nation like Yours, like Israel, a singular people so united on Earth?” We need to return to this state of unity and oneness; clarity in the law, and uniformity in Jewish practice. As Moses himself said in this week’s parasha, God’s mitzvot are straight-forward and easily graspable for all—they are not too difficult and they are not too far away; they are not across the ocean and, of course, they are not in Heaven!

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Wishing everyone a ketiva v’chatima tova, and a happy, healthy, and sweet new year!

Rosh Hashanah Learning Resources:

The Puzzle of Rosh Hashanah (Video)
Secrets of Rosh Hashanah
The Kabbalah of Solar
The Origins and Meaning of Tashlich