Moses, Rabbi Akiva, and the Expansion of Torah Mi-Sinai

It seems impossible to reconcile the academic consensus that the Torah is a composite text of multiple sources written and revised by people over hundreds of years with the traditional belief that the entire Torah was revealed by God to Moses. When accepted literally, these beliefs are contradictory.

The traditionalist can argue that this does not mean that the academic consensus is correct. We live in a time when most academics believe that historical positivism is dead, namely, that there is no objective historical truth. All we have are different, and often conflicting narratives that depict the past. Each narrative is based on a scholar’s selection and interpretation of the data. Inevitably, scholarly reconstructions are influenced to some degree by the ideological considerations of the scholar.

The scholarly “consensus” is often based on a reliance on scholarly authority, analogous, if not as extreme, as traditional consensus. So why not simply say that two different narratives exist as to the origin of the Torah, and each person chooses the narrative he or she finds more compelling for any number of reasons; this is a solution that modern historians of many issues now propose.

When it comes to belief in the divine origin of the Torah, many prefer to choose between scholarship and tradition. For the vast majority of traditionalists, the choice is easy: Beliefs anchored in tradition trumps those based on what they consider to be scholarly speculation every time. For those committed to scholarship, who do not see themselves as obligated to accept traditional beliefs,  this choice is equally easy: It makes most sense to follow the consensus of the academic experts. For those who feel the pull of both camps, however, the choice is problematic.

Maimonides’ Framing

Perhaps nobody framed this dilemma better than Maimonides in the introduction to the Guide of the Perplexed when speaking of the clash between Aristotelian philosophy and the simple meaning of the terms in many verses in the Bible. Maimonides notes that an individual of religious conviction who then studies the sciences:

[…]  would remain in a state of perplexity and confusion as to whether he should follow his intellect […] and consequently consider that he has renounced the foundations of the Law.  Or should he hold fast to his understanding of these terms and not let himself be drawn on together with his intellect, rather turning his back on it and moving away from it, while at the same time perceiving that he had brought loss to himself and harm to his religion. He would be left with those imaginary beliefs to which he owes his fear and difficulty and not cease to suffer from heartache and great perplexity.^[1]

Maimonides solved this problem in two different ways: He often interpreted the Bible metaphorically when reason clearly contradicted its plain meaning, and in other cases suggested that reason had overreached itself by claiming something was demonstratively true when in fact it could be shown that it was not. His insights apply in our case too.

We certainly should not accept all scholarship as if it were Torah mi-Sinai (so to speak)—namely literally and immutably true. This still leaves us with the question whether we should accept the Torah itself as “Torah mi-Sinai.”

For those of us who continue to believe in historical truth, given the numerous compelling rational arguments against the literal truth of the Torah being a book dictated by God to Moses, it would be intellectually and religiously dishonest (if God’s seal is truth)^[2] to nonetheless accept it. Yet if the Torah was not literally revealed in its entirety by God to Moses, but was given to humans by God in a metaphorical sense and was later modified by other human beings, why should we not regard it simply as an exceptional human document that has no imposing claim on our commitment to its truth or obedience to its laws?

Metaphorical Truths

For me the answer lies in the view that metaphorical truths are no less true than literal ones when dealing with God and the imprint God leaves on the world. This is especially true of the area that has engrossed me over my lifetime as a scholar of medieval Jewish philosophy – namely, how should we understand the notion that God communicates to human beings?^[3]

Does the view that God, in some unfathomable manner, illuminates the minds of certain human beings, make the product of this illumination any less divine than if God creates a voice that conveys these notions verbally? The former alternative is certainly less miraculous than the latter, but is it less divine?

Should a law that originates in some unknown manner with an encounter between God and a figure we know as Moses still be considered Torah mi-Sinai even if generations of exceptional individuals later interpreted the product of this encounter, greatly expanding upon it and refining it until the Torah takes the form as we know it today? Can something be considered Torah min ha-shamayim (Torah from heaven) in a profound sense, even if it is at the same time human and results from a lengthy historical process?

Between Human and Divine: Where Do We Draw the Line?

In the ongoing encounter between God and human beings, it is so hard to make a clearcut distinction between the divine and human role in that encounter. Similarly, where should one draw the line between the original message resulting from the encounter, and how this message was modified and expanded upon over time?

The exceptional midrash in the Talmud (b. Menachot 29b) tells how Moses finds himself transported to the back row of the academy of R. Akiva:

הלך וישב בסוף שמונה עשרה שורות לא היה יודע מהן או[מרין] תשש כחו וכיון שהגיעו לדבר אמרו לו תלמידיו מניין לך אמ[ר] להן הלכה למשה מסיני נתיישבה [דעתו].^[4]

He (Moses) sat behind eighteen rows, and he didn’t understand what they were saying. He felt weak. When they came to a certain point, the students said to him (Rabbi Akiva): “How do you know this?” He said to them: “It is a halakha given to Moses at Sinai.” He (Moses) found tranquility of mind.^[5]

The rabbinic sages here offer an astute and anti-dogmatic understanding of the meaning of their notion that the law derives from Moses at Sinai. We can apply this same thinking to modern scholarly notions about the origins of the written Torah, which may not reproduce a literal ancient message of God to Moses, but is, nonetheless, Torah from Sinai.