recent studies in aggadah
TRANSCRIPT
Recent Studies in AggadahAggadot vetoldotehen (Aggadah and its Development) by Joseph Heinemann; Post-BiblicalJewish Studies by Geza Vermes; 'Iyunim be 'olamo haruḥani shel sippur ha' aggadah(Exploration in the Spiritual World of the Aggadic Story) by Jonah FraenkelReview by: LEWIS M. BARTHProoftexts, Vol. 4, No. 2 (MAY 1984), pp. 204-213Published by: Indiana University PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20689092 .
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commentary. The apparent reemergence of rabbinic modes of interpretation in
current critical writing may eventually prove to be, in fact, a kind of perspectival
illusion, a species of what rhetoricians call metalepsis, where the later is projected backward and made to anticipate the earlier-the child, as it were, its father.
Rather than rabbinic exegesis having influenced contemporary criticism, it may
be that the newest criticism has actually taught us to appreciate midrash anew,
as a form of literary expression in its own right, by which I mean a text whose
own language exceeds the meaning we might casually assign to it. And the way criticism has instructed us has been through its own example-by demonstrating that critical prose, too, can be read for its own sake; by teaching that narrative
and exegesis are not the utterly disparate and unequal orders of discourse they have traditionally been made out to be; by showing that narrative can serve the
role of exegesis, and that commentary can be as inventive as fiction.
Such instruction appears to be the lesson of Harold Bloom's writings about Kabbalah, for example. While Bloom himself acknowledges that Kabbalah did not lead him to his theories of literary influence, and although he confesses to his own astonishment when he first realized how completely Kabbalah confirmed his map of misreading, Bloom's more amazing contribution in Kabbalah and Criticism
is, to my mind, that it is the first book on Jewish mysticism to give its reader a
"feel" for Kabbalah, a palpable sense of the psychic energies that pulsate through those esoteric bloodlines. For all Bloom's unconcealed debt to Scholem, it is
nonetheless the paradoxical case that Bloom's guide to the constellation of
forces-revisionist, gnostic, Oedipal-lying behind kabbalistic myth somehow
affords access to its hidden paths (at least to the reader already initiated into the
mysteries of literary criticism) in a way that even Scholem's magisterial yet abstracted elucidations of Kabbalah's inner history do not. To be sure, it is no
small irony that Bloom's understanding of Kabbalah is itself modeled upon the
history of post-Romantic poetry, and that his most brilliant intuition was to talk
about Kabbalah as though it were poetry; nonetheless, it may be that the lasting contribution of Bloom's work will be its use of literary categories to teach about
Kabbalah rather than the opposite. Before the Rabbis can instruct us, it may be
necessary to study them lishmah, as they would say, for their own sake. Contrary to the usual rabbinic order of things, their literature may have to be studied
lishmah before it can be used shelo lishmah, for a purpose other than its own, like
teaching us how to do literary criticism today.
DAVID STERN The University of Judaism Los Angeles, Ca.
Recent Studies in Aggadah
Joseph Heinemann, Aggadot vetoldotehen [Aggadah and its Development]. Jerusalem:
Keter, 1974.
Geza Vermes, Post-Biblical Jewish Studies, Leiden: Brill, 1975.
Jonah Fraenkel, 'Iyunim be'olamo haruhani shel sippur ha'aggadah [Exploration in the
Spiritual World of the Aggadic Story]. Hakibbutz Hameuchad, 1981.
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Among the numerous types of ancient postbiblical Jewish literature, perhaps none is as fascinating and frustrating to the modern student as the aggadah. Bialik's essay "Halakhah and Aggadah" (1917) and especially Isaac Heinemann's Darkhe ha'aggadah (Jerusalem, 19542) are now considered classic attempts to
define and explain the nature of aggadah and the methods used by the Sages in their creation of legend and exegesis. These efforts have long precedent, although a survey and evaluation of traditional writings on the aggadah, for example the
essays of Maimonides' son Abraham or Zvi Hirsch Hayyis, remains to be written.
The primary burden of many of the previous studies, medieval and modern, has been classification and description. Aggadah is a catch-all term and includes
types of myth or mythic history, legends of biblical and postbiblical characters, theology, homiletics and exegesis. Elaboration of Scripture, legend created to fill lacunae or harmonize apparent biblical contradictions, and creative philology
appear in literary compositions side by side with late exempla, rabbinic hagiog
raphy and folktales. The aggadah of the Rabbis appears randomly in the Pales tinian and Babylonian Talmuds and as line by line exegesis or literary homily in various collections of midrash. Unsystematic transmission stimulated late "sys tematic" collection of various genres. Exempla which were selected to reflect
various didactic/religious themes are found in such works as Nissim ben Jacob ibn Shahin's An Elegant Composition Concerning Relief after Adversity (trans. William
M. Brinner; New Haven and London, 1977) from the eleventh century and The
Exempla of the Rabbis (ed. Moses Gaster; New York, 19682) of unknown date. Midrashic and some talmudic aggadah are collected in the Yalkut Shimoni (thir teenth century) and aggadah of the Babylonian Talmud in the Ein Ya'akov of Rabbi Jacob bar Solomon ibn Habib (sixteenth century), to name the most well known.
These traditional contexts, whose original purposes were education and
edification, raise numerous obstacles for the modern understanding of aggadah.
Dating legends is extremely difficult; specific aggadic passages may be signifi cantly earlier than the edited sources in which they are embedded. The meaning or purposes of legend or exegesis shift constantly because of an author/redactor's
need to reshape traditional material to suit the formally different literary struc
tures of halakhic argument, exegetical commentary or extended literary homily. Because tales were constantly retold and exegesis reworked to serve vastly different intellectual, religious and cultural needs, it is often a complicated or
impossible task to reconstruct the original form of an aggadah, or to discover
the scriptural causes or historical factors which brought it into being.
Contemporary scholars have approached the study of aggadah from varying perspectives. Saul Lieberman's Greek in Jewish Palestine (New York, 1942) and Hellenism in Jewish Palestine (New York, 19622) provided extensive philological and
literary evidence of the interconnections between rabbinic literature and literary methods and Greek/Hellenistic literary culture, specifically in regard to rabbinic methods of interpretation (Hellenism, 47-83) and the "publication" and editing of rabbinic texts (83-99). Of a different character is the work of A. A. Halevi, who has argued for direct influence of classical motifs, characterization and plot (from Homer and Greek mythology) on the aggadah. In recent years, Dov Noy and his students at the Hebrew University have explored folkloristic aspects of this literature; Avigdor Shinan, following the lead of the late Joseph Heinemann, has begun to describe more fully the traces of oral rhetoric in midrashic literature;
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and from quite a different perspective, Jacob Neusner and his students at Brown
University have discussed the problematic nature of late hagiographic legends as sources for the reconstruction of the historical biography of Tannaitic Sages.
Scholars whose primary interest is literature have used the tools of philology, folklore, rhetoric and history to describe the literary characteristics of the aggadah and to develop criteria for appreciating a creative endeavor radically different
from both classical and modern Western literary models. The often fragmentary
preservation of an aggadic passage, the chronologically layered strata of a fully
developed legend, and the peculiar homileticallexegetical mosaic form of the
"literary sermon" tend to frustrate those whose aesthetic sensibilities are
attracted by orderly composition and unified works, the parts of which are
interrelated and necessary. Although scholars who select aggadot for purposes of analysis and criticism may be motivated by a desire to find the most historically significant, or literarily structured texts, the readings of such texts commonly turns to more attainable formulations of methodological approaches, systemati zation of interpretative/exegetical techniques and descriptions of values-the
achievement of which is found significantly in the three volumes under discus sion, studies written over the past decade which are devoted to different aspects of aggadah.
Joseph Heinemann, a scholar of wide-ranging interests in rabbinic literature, was perhaps best known for his contributions to the study of midrash and
Jewish liturgy.1 His volume Aggadah and its Development centers on scriptural
exegetical aggadah and specifically on the expansion of biblical narrative or incident. Heinemann's concerns are two-fold and interrelated. Chapters 1-4
deal with basic characteristics of aggadah and methodological procedures for the
analysis of tradition-development (traditionsgeschichte). The remaining chapters illustrate the impact of historical context on the shaping of tradition; these sections treat specific epochs or events (the Hasmonean period, the fall of Bar
Kokhba) and polemics (with Christians, Samaritans and Muslims). For illustration, Heinemann chooses over twenty aggadot selected for their
typical qualities and representative problems. Although he prefaces his discussion
with a series of useful questions on the relationship between aggadah and
Scripture (what motivated the creators of these legends to depart from Scripture, to add to biblical narrative or to deny explicit biblical statements?), his real interest seems to lie with problems that emerge from ancient modes of preserving and transmitting rabbinic and especially nonhalakhic passages.
In his view, aggadah was originally an oral literature, and the tools employed for the study of oral tradition must be applied to it. Understanding the nature of "oral transmission" provides a key to a particular problem in rabbinic literature: often a single aggadah appears in several different collections, and close compar ison of texts may reveal the existence of a multitude of variants in what is clearly the same legend. In most cases, Heinemann argues, the variants reflect
1. In English: "Profile of a Midrash: The Art of Composition in Leviticus Rabba,"
JAAR 39 (1971): 141-150, and Prayers in the Talmud: Forms and Patterns (Berlin & New York,
1977).
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insignificant differences and do not represent what might be called a "new creation."
In his discussion of the legend of the Boiling Blood of Zechariah (pp. 31-37), Heinemann provides in four parallel columns different readings of this historically significant aggadah (Sanhedrin 96a; Lamentations Rabba, Petihta 23 and 4:13 and J. Ta'anit 69a-b), the origin of which can be traced to the biblical story of
the murder of the priest Zechariah son of Jehoiada by King Joash (2 Chron. 24:20 ff.). In the postbiblical development of the story, the identity of the victim in some variants is transformed (Uriah the Priest and Zechariah the Prophet); details are added to emphasize the heinousness of the crime (it occurred in the Priests' Court of the Temple on a Sabbath which was also Yom Kippur, etc.) and
the shocking treatment of the victim (his blood was not even covered with dust); and two divergent endings were created (involving the Babylonian general Nebuzaradan).
Based on a comparison of details, language, folklore motifs and plot, Heinemann determines that the four texts in fact present two treatments of the
legend which share a basic identity of plot and structure but differ in style and detail. He suggests that these similarities and differences can best be explained
by the vagaries of oral transmission and not by conscious scribal changes in
copying written texts. The only significant differences in the two groups occurs
in the endings, one of which contains magic-demonic elements (and therefore is
more original) which were reworked and eliminated by the Sages when they created a second ending involving God and His compassion.
Heinemann's emphasis on the oral elements in this legend and his interest
in transmission as a source for variants properly focuses our attention on the
nonliterary stages of aggadic development. However, this focus neglects a crucial
factor in the final determination of the shape of a legend as we find it in the
literary setting. An author/redactor chooses, refines or creates rhetorical features
and significant detail to suit an argument or context of his determination. It is
appropriate, for example, that the author of the Pesikta deRav Kahana would
choose for his homiletical composition on Lamentations 1:1/Isaiah 1:2 ff. that
version of the legend in which Nebuzaradan rebukes Zechariah for permitting the destruction of the people as punishment for his murder, and thereby brings
God to show compassion,2 rather than the alternate version which highlights Nebuzaradan's conversion to Judaism as a consequence of his experience of the
prophet's boiling blood. The conversion motif would make little sense in a Tisha
b'Av context in which God's anger, grief and regret are central themes. Heine
mann is right in suggesting that this legend represented a creative response to
the problem of justifying the destruction of the Second Temple and that its oral features add to its literary impact. But it seems more important to stress that
the Pesikta version (parallel to J. Ta'anit 69a-b and LR 4:13) reflects a specifically Palestinian polemical context. The murder of prophets is a stock argument in the anti-Jewish arsenal of the Church Fathers; its sources are found in the New Testament in which the murder of Zechariah figures prominently.3 In contrast,
2. Pesikta de-Rab Kahana, trans. William G. Braude & Israel J. Kapstein (Philadelphia,
1975), ch. 15, for the Sabbath before Tisha b'Ay. 3. On this, see Hans Joachim Schoeps, "Die juedischen Prophetenmorde," in Aus
Fruehchristlischer Zeit (Tuebingen, 1950), pp. 126-143, and Sheldon H. Blank, "The Death of
Zechariah in Rabbinic Literature," HUCA 13 (1937-38): 327-46.
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the magic-demonic elements of the "conversion" legend, the conversion motif
itself, and the Aramaic dialect features of this version might well be traced to
the environment in which the Babylonian Talmud was produced, a document
also edited by Sages who chose not to eliminate "offensive" material! These
matters cannot be explained merely as insignificant variations of language or
detail; they represent instead meaningful differences whose source is to be
sought in diverse theological, historical and polemical settings. Actual historical factors at work in the creation of the aggadah are, of
course, exceedingly difficult to identify, as Heinemann points out. Particular
views or attitudes might fit well in more than one historical period; the fact that most collections of rabbinic literature cannot be dated with any accuracy only
compounds the problem. Important additional questions have to be asked: Did
the Aggadists intend to deal with events of their time? Against the background of which historical period might an Aggadah have been formed? To which
problems might it have been related, and which positions did it seek to commu
nicate? Great care must be taken in formulating answers to these types of
questions; only after close reading and thorough comparative analysis can we
decide whether there are clear points of view expressed or what their character
might be.
Perhaps the most interesting of Heinemann's specific discussion of polemical traces in the aggadah is that which treats the Samaritans (ch. 6). He notes that
evidence of conflict between Jews and Samaritans already exists in their varying versions of Scripture, and lists those instances in which Samaritans forged or
changed the biblical text to support their own claims. (Similar instances in
Qumran or rabbinic writings are not indicated!) In addition, he points to common
aggadot in Jewish and Samaritan tradition which are altered to serve the needs
of each community. For example, the tradition that the Land of Israel and
Jerusalem were not inundated by the flood was adapted by the Samaritans to
apply to Mt. Geri'zim. Heinemann argues that, in fact, up to the third century C.E., problems between Jews and Samaritans, of whom incidently we know
relatively little, were greater and of longer standing than those with the Qumran
community or Christians.
In his last chapter, reference is made to the Pirke deRabbi Eliezer, a late eighth
century compilation, presumably by a single author who developed new legends in a polemical context with Islam. This midrash includes material which is clearly of Islamic origin, but does so in contradictory ways. PRE contains legends which
diminish the image of Ishmael, but care is taken not to insult Muslims by describing Ishmael as an idolator. The only criticism of such a discussion is that
Heinemann tends to be superficial in his description of Muslim sources and lack
of detail weakens his argument. On the other hand, the tendency of the Rabbis to be unspecific in polemical matters leads to precisely the problem of how we are to be specific in evaluating their words.
Geza Vermes's volume is a collection and updating of essays which had appeared between 1960 and 1974. These, plus an additional paper written for this book, reflect Vermes's interest over many years in three interrelated areas:
Qumran, biblical exegesis and rabbinic history. He attempts to integrate these
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areas with each other and to offer a coherent glimpse into significant aspects of
a chaotic and profoundly creative religious period.
Vermes, who teaches at Oxford University, is one of the pioneers in the
study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and has written extensively on the history, litera ture and religious attitudes of the sectarian community. His discussions of
Qumranic scriptural interpretation and especially of Bible and midrash have
parallels with Heinemann's work; they are basic to any debate on ancient her
meneutics because of the extraordinary clarity with which Vermes describes
three unequal but overlapping categories of interpretative activity: sectarian,
pure and applied exegesis. As an historian, he views the Qumran sectaries in
relation to the parties and politics of second century B.C.E. through first century C.E. Palestinian setting: Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes and later Zealots-all of
whom based themselves on Scripture and developed contrasting interpretative
claims. The Dead Sea Scrolls represent one of these early exegetical systems and
stand between Judaism and Christianity, having much in common with both. Vermes stresses the role played by the Bible in Qumran by noting the simple fact that except for the Copper Scroll and some fragments, the entire Qumran Library is composed of either biblical manuscripts or works based on Scripture.
Exegesis of Scripture is the crucial area distinguishing the sectaries from
the rest of Jewry, especially in their peculiar emphasis on prophecy. The
Habakkuk commentary (pesher) offers classic examples of the methods of Qumran interpretation, and Vermes finds especially important the comment on Hab. 2:2
for the evidence it contains of the community's basic tenets:
God told Habakkuk to write down that which would happen to the final
generation, but made not known to him when time would end. And as for
that which he said, "that he who reads may read it speedily," interpreted,
this concerns the Teacher of Righteousness to whom God makes known all the mysteries of his servants the prophets.
Vermes extrapolates from his passage the following points: the words of the
prophets are full of mystery and require further revelation; this hidden meaning alludes to what is to take place at the end of the world; the end is near and therefore prophecy applies to the writer's own generation; the person to whom
these mysteries are revealed was the Teacher of Righteousness whose exegesis was alone true.
Vermes contends that Qumran inherited from an apocalyptic milieu influ
enced by the book of Daniel the concept that prophecy is mystery and that new
revelation is required to understand it. This view has recently been challenged
by Ben Zion Wacholder (The Dawn of Qumran [Cincinnati, 19831) who argues that the reverse is more likely, and that the author of Daniel may have been influenced
by the writing of the pesherist on Habakkuk. Moreover, Wacholder argues that the Habakkuk commentary is not typical of the pesherite texts of Qumran because it antedates the existence of the Commune, seems to reflect the earlier
days of the sect, and serves as a kind of model for later Qumran exegesis. Perhaps more significant than the issue of which came first is the need to
develop a carefully nuanced description of exegetical modes-pesher, perush, midrash-and then to determine historical priority and interrelationships.
In the essay "Bible and Midrash: Early Old Testament Exegesis," Vermes
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begins by pointing to those passages in the Hebrew Bible which already fore shadow future midrashic interpretation, but moves on quickly to discuss his
main interest: types of exegesis in their varying stimuli and functions. "Pure
exegesis" results from a variety of causes: a scriptural passage contains a word
whose exact meaning escaped the interpreter; it lacks sufficient detail; it seems
to contradict other biblical texts; its apparent meaning is unacceptable. Vermes
chooses examples for each of these causes from the areas of halakhah (e.g. Divorce law and the status of the female slave) and from the aggadah (e.g. the
story and image of Balaam and the sister-wife motif in the stories of Abraham
and Sarah). He stresses, as does Heinemann, that "pure exegesis" is organically bound to the Bible in spirit and method. Many of the traditions stemming from this type of interpretation are already of biblical origin or may be traced to a
period prior to the final completion of the Pentateuch and certainly to the period prior to the final canonization of the entire Hebrew Bible.
"Applied exegesis" has an entirely different focus. Its historical origin is the
beginning of the Christian era, and its starting point is contemporary belief and
custom which the interpreter attempts to connect with Scripture. This is the
period to which Jewish tradition traces the development of hermeneutic principles (Hillel's seven middot); the fulfillment-interpretation of Qumran and the New
Testament also emerges at this time.
Vermes concludes his essay with a discussion of a subject to which Heine
mann had also devoted a chapter-the value of Palestinian Targums as a source
for early biblical exegetical traditions. The subject has long exercised scholars, because the Targums have a complicated history of transmission and contain
quite late material as well. Vermes and Heinemann both provide numerous
suggestive examples and notes sufficient to familiarize the reader with the
debate to date of publication. Further work in this area now has the benefit of
Michael Klein's source book and translation, The Fragment Targums of the Pentateuch,
2 vols. (Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1980), the work of Avigdor Shinan, and a
host of other studies. Heinemann and Vermes stress that early material in
targumic collections are echoed in the corpus of well-attested documents which
preserve the earliest examples of ancient Jewish biblical exegesis (the Septuagint,
Pseudepigrapha, Qumran writings, New Testament, Philo and Josephus); the
task of scholarship here seems to be to extract from these sources the common
stock of biblical interpretation, and distinguish from it particular exegeses which reflect sectarian, tendentious, polemic viewpoints.
Jonah Fraenkel's Explorations in the Spiritual World of the Aggadic Story represents something of a departure from this scholar's earlier technical studies of elements of aggadic narrative.4 Fraenkel's purpose here is to describe the spiritual contents of a special type of aggadic story, ma'aseh hakhamim, "the deed of the Sages." He deals with recurring human problems reflected in these stories and with theo logical questions only as they are worked out in the lives of their characters. Fifty tales are presented, translated from rabbinic Hebrew or Aramaic into
4. In English: "Bible Verses Quoted in the Tales of the Sages," Scripta Hierosolymitana 22 (1971): 80-99, and "Paranomasia in Aggadic Narratives," SH 28 (1978): 27-51.
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modern Hebrew, with brief philological notes and an appendix listing sources,
parallels and occasional modern references. The tales are organized under three
thematic headings and are treated in terms of conceptual issues: 1) the individual
over against his Maker, 2) the disciples of the Sages and their academy, and
3) the People of Israel in its generation. The subdivisions of the chapters are
theological/existential (Free Choice, Prescience, Providence; Man and Miracle;
Struggle with Death), situational (Inside the Academy; the Academy and the Outside World; the Disciples of the Sages and their Houses) and historical/
theological (the Temple and its Destruction; Gentiles; and Exile and Redemption). Although Fraenkel describes the purposes and focus of this study, his
methodology has to be inferred from the separate analyses of each story and the connections drawn between them (see, however, his "Hermeneutic Problems in
the Study of Aggadic Narratives," Tarbiz 47 [1978]: 139-72). His hermeneutic here flows from what might be termed "existential/thematic" concerns, and the
presentation seems appropriately geared to a popular lay audience. The tales are
discussed in relation to some universal or Jewish human predicament, conflict
or need. Each case is examined with attention to a descriptive analysis of charac
ters, or the nature of their interactions or the force and meaning of their
statements. Fraenkel frequently asks or implies very solid and simple questions of fact: why did incident x happen; what prevented punishment y from occurring; does character z know of statements made by other characters in the story? A
second level of questions is also typical of any inquiry into fiction, whether in
the form of short story or novel: what attitude or viewpoint does character x
represent, what is the meaning of y's question, does the narrator share a point of view with some of his characters or does he have a separate point of view?
The answers to such inquiry may or'may not be self-evident. Fraenkel selects
those responses which reflect what he perceives to be central to the conflict of
values or perspectives in the tale and which lead to the insight or moral lesson
which is the purpose of such didactic stories.
In the first tale, "The Story of Rabbi Akiba's Daughter and the Snake,"
Rabbi Akiba asks his daughter: "What did you do?" The question is designed to elicit either factual information (how did you kill the snake?) or a morally
motivated response (what good deed did you do so that the snake which was
destined to kill you was killed by you?). The daughter's response indicates her
understanding that the question only implied the latter meaning: she fed a poor man while others were too busy enjoying her wedding. In Fraenkel's view, the
narrator here pictures Rabbi Akiba as a person who partially submitted to the
verdict of the stars (astrologers predicted his daughter would die on her wedding day, but he married her off anyway), as a man at the crossroads (not knowing how to explain the dead snake), and as a Sage who also understood the moral
that "charity delivers from death." On the other hand, the daughter did not know of the astrologers' prediction, but almost naturally perceives the "real" question. And the astrologers, who control nothing, merely communicate a mechanical reading of the stars. The moral of the story then goes: the punishment for sin is already prepared, but a person is free to determine how to act. If a
person chooses the good, he feels afterward that he acted well and was saved, but if he sins, then what the stars declare can happen.
Other stories in the first chapter lead to an elaboration of issues implicit
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here. The Sages were not merely concerned with the conflict between free will
and providence. They recognized a continuing tension between free will, human
choice and action, and a providence whose measuring rods are reward and
punishment. Such considerations lead to the evaluation of extraordinary char
acters in the second chapter, "Man and Miracle," and to the observation that
what may be understood as "natural" occurrences for some select few are clearly "miraculous" for the ordinary human being. The death of a snake which bites
Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa is not a miracle but the natural consequence of this
pietist's lack of sin and supreme self-confidence. Characters such as Hanina ben
Dosa or Pinhas ben Yair (for whom an overflowing river splits to let him pass)
represent the type of individual for whom miracle is natural. Other mortals
bitten by snakes, drowned in cisterns, swept away by floods-are subject to
the rule that sin kills. Consequently, if normal persons are saved it is a true
miracle, and every true miracle represents an incomprehensible act of God's
lovingkindness. This type of analysis has clear literary support and has been tested by
Fraenkel in graduate seminars at the Hebrew University with significant success.
However, it lacks a perspective which could be of value in the interpretative task. In some sense, Fraenkel stands in conflict with what is now emerging as a
considerable body of scholarly literature on Jewish charismatic types and holy men. In his seminal article on Hanina ben Dosa (pp. 178-214), Vermes assesses
the various stages in the literary development of the legends of this "man of
deed," which he groups under three headings: Healer, Miracle Worker and
Teacher. Vermes then uses these attributes to describe functional roles of Jesus in his Galilean ministry in his important work Jesus the Jew (London, 1973). Some
of the observations of the Hanina essay and the categories developed there have
been challenged or refined (see Sean Freyne, "The Charismatic," in Idedl Figures in
Ancient Judaism, ed. Collins and Nickelsburg, [Scholars Press, 1980]), and indeed
much debate exists regarding the basic descriptive terminology of charismatics
and their powers and activities. Jacob Neusner's History of the Jews of Babylonia
(1965-1970) already contains extensive discussion of rabbis as a class of wonder
workers, and a number of scholars beginning with Morton Smith have added to
our information and understanding of model types in Late Antiquity and in the crucial period with which these books deal. Insights gained from these explora tions suggest that some of Fraenkel's observations on character, language or
action may need modification even in the context of the stated goal of his book.
There is no doubt that the stories he analyzes reflect pressing human and
Jewish concerns, and that these are as legitimate an area of inquiry as the
development of legend surrounding an extraordinary sage or teacher. However,
since such characters as they appear in legend reflect clear typologies, an under
standing of these typologies must enter into the process of determining the meaning of individual tales.
In the end, however, it must be stressed that Fraenkel's literary approach touches a profound orientation at the core of aggadic literature, the purpose of
which is, after all, didactic and moralistic. That orientation is formulated in the rabbinic statement, "if you want to recognize the Holy One Blessed be He, go to the aggadah." The original collections-in which aggadah appears were created, compiled or edited to serve religious ends, to teach lessons. Contemporary
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methods of scholarship, not unlike medieval commentary, have a tendency to
further atomize texts which are by nature fragmented and fragmentary, to deal
with parts and not with the whole. Studies in philology, folklore, rhetoric, the
tracing of exegetical themes and the comparison of texts and versions-all these
have to be located in relation to one another within the framework of a larger hermeneutic endeavor. The disciplines need integration, so that interpretation can itself strive for the integrated and balanced reading of these ancient
documents.
Nor are all the partial questions answered. We still need to know what was
the role of polemics within Jewish society, how "pure" and "applied" exegesis
impact on each other, what are the clear distinctions between ancient interpreta
tive techniques (pesher, perush, midrash), and whether rabbinic legends have a life
independent of the literary context in which they are found. Heinemann, Vermes
and Fraenkel have helped us understand aspects of a world and a literature
radically different from ours, and have suggested some of the crucial methodol
ogies for moving ahead.
LEWIS M. BARTH Hebrew Union College Los Angeles
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