Avimi and His Mizmor Discovery

Kiddushin 31b has this interesting story that ends mysteriously:

יומא חד אמר ליה אשקיין מיא אדאייתי ליה נמנם גחין קאי עליה עד דאיתער איסתייעא מילתיה ודרש אבימי מזמור לאסף

One day [Avimi's father] said to him, "Pour me water." While he was bringing it to him, he [his father] fell asleep. He bent, standing over him, until he would awake. He received support and Avimi expounded Mizmor L'Asaf.

What is the connection to Avimi's "discovery" and this honor to his father? As in, he received merit to understand? Also, there are a few Mizmor L'Asafs out there, such as Psalms 73. But Rashi first says it was any of the Mizmors, that he now understood. His next suggestion identifies this with Psalm 79, which talks about the destruction of the Temple. Here's what Rashi says:

איסתייעא מילתא. בעודו גחין לפניו שהבין במדרש מזמור אחד שבספר תהלים שלא היה מבין בו קודם לכן לדורשו וי"מ שמקרא זה לבדו דרש מזמור לאסף אלהים באו גוים בנחלתך וגו' קינה לאסף מיבעי ליה ודרש כך שאמר אסף שירה על שכילה הקב"ה חמתו בעצים ואבנים שבביתו ומתוך כך הותיר פליטה בישראל שאלמלא כך לא נשתייר משונאי ישראל שריד וכן הוא אומר כלה ה' את חמתו ויצת אש בציון (איכה ד)

While he  was bent before him, that he understood the study of one Mizmor in the book of Psalms that he had not understood beforehand to explain it. And some explain that he only expounded one - (Psalm 79) Mizmor L'Asaf, "God, the gentiles came to your inheretiance," - It should have stated Kinah L'asaf, Lamenation for Asaf. He expounded such that Asaf says a song on the fact that God consumed His anger on wood and stone that was in his house, and because of this exonerated the survivors in Israel, for were it not for this, Israel [lit. the enemies of Israel] would not have left any survivors...

But Tosafot give another answer. After quoting Rashi, they say:

 אך יש במדרש שאסף אמר שירה על שטבעו בארץ שעריה משל לשפחה שהלכה לשאוב מים מן הבאר ונפל כדה לבאר והיתה מצטערת ובוכה עד שבאתה שפחת המלך לשאוב ובידה כלי של זהב ונפל אותו כלי שם התחילה הראשונה לשורר ואמרה עד עכשיו לא הייתי סבורה שיוציא שום אדם כדי שהוא של חרס מן הבאר שאינו נחשב ועכשיו מי שיוציא אותו של זהב יוציא כדי עמו כך בני קרח שהיו בלועים כשראו שטבעו בארץ שעריה אמרו שירה אמרו מי שיוציא השערים יוציא גם אותנו לכך אמר אסף מזמור שהוא ממשפחת קרח:

But there is a Midrash that Asaf said song because the gates sank into the ground. It is compared to a maidservant who went to draw water from the well and whose pitcher fell into the well. She became distraught and began to cry - until the king’s maidservant came to draw water carrying a golden pitcher, and it too, fell into the well. At which point the first maidservant began to sing. ‘Till now’, she exclaimed, I didn’t think that anybody would retrieve my cheap earthenware pitcher from the well. But now, whoever retrieves the golden pitcher, will retrieve mine as well!’ In the same way, when the sons of Korach, who were swallowed up inside the earth, saw how the gates of the Temple sunk into the ground, proclaimed ‘Whoever rescues the gates will also rescue us!’ That explains why Asaf, who was from the family of Korach, said ‘Mizmor’ 


Meharsha points out this fits a little better than Rashi:

לפי' התוס' ניחא משום דקיים אבימי מצות כבוד אב זכה להך דרשא שדרש שאמר אסף מזמור משום כבוד בית אבותיו הבלועים שיעלו עם השערים בב"י

Tosafot's explanation is better; because Avimi fulfilled the commandment of Kibud  Av, he merited to this derasha, that he expounded that Asaf said Mizmor because of the honor of his father's household who were swallowed, that they would rise with the gates may it come speedily in our days.

Ritva says similarly:

אבל בירושלמי דריש בענין אחר דכיון שראה אסף שהיה מבני קרח שטבעו לארץ שערי בית המקדש שמח ואמר מי שעתיד להעלות שערים אלו עתיד להעלות אבי אבא, משל לבת עניים שהיתה דולה מים מן הבור בדלי של עץ ונפל הדלי בבור והיתה בוכה באה בת המלך לדלות בדלי של זהב ונפל בבור כיון שראתה בת עניים שמחה אמרה מי שיעלה דלי של בת המלך יעלה שלי.

The Pnei Yehoshua has a different answer, which explains many parts to this similar gemara. He says that instead of Psalm 79, it should be Psalm 73, which is the first Mizmor L'asaf. It refers to the exile, and this is the exile of Esau. And he refers to the midrashim that grant Esau tremendous merit for having been so zealous in honor of his father, specifically with food. So Avimi merited to understand the Mizmor L'asaf that concern themselves with how the Jews are downtrodden in the Esau exile, which is explained by this amazing honor of the father. He writes:

גמרא עד דאיתער מסתייע מילתא ודריש אבימי מזמור לאסף. עיין פרש"י ותוספות ובחידושי אגדות למהרש"א ז"ל. ולענ"ד נראה לפרש בפשיטות דבמה שהיה אבימי מקיים מאד מצות כיבוד דלאחר שהביא לו המים שביקש ממנו עוד הוסיף וקאי עליו עד דאיתער שהיה שלא לצורך אלא לקיים המצוה בלבד במדה יתירה בדבר זה ראה מעשה ונזכר להבין המזמור לאסף, ולאו היינו מזמור ע"ט שכתבו רש"י ותוספות אלא מזמור ע"ג שהן תחילת דבריו של אסף שאמר ואני כמעט נטיו רגלי כי קנאתי בהוללים וגומר הנה אלה רשעים וכל המזמור שהיה מצטער מאד על אריכות הגלות כדכתיב נמי עד אבא אל מקדשי אל אבינה לאחריתם וכמעט רוב מזמורי אסף בספר שני הכל על אריכות הגלות האחרון ביד בני עשו ומסיים שם באותו המזמור בעצתך תנחני ואחר כבוד תקחני ואיתא במדרש אמר ר' יהודה בן בתירה בעצת תורה תנחני ואחר כבוד תקחני כבוד גדול שכיבד עשו את הוריו שאתה עתיד לעלותינו, רב הונא בשם רבי נחוניא איחר כבודו של יעקב בעוה"ז בשביל כיבוד גדול שכיבד עשו את הוריו ע"ש בילקוט עוד באריכות והיינו ממש כעין עובדא דאבימי מצינן נמי בעשו שקם על אביו והיה מאכילו ומשקהו תמיד וא"כ בהאי מילתא מסתייע מילתא דאבימי שהבין במזמור פסוקי אסף והיינו נמי דכתיב מזמור לאסף דכיון שלא מצינו לעשו אלא מצוה זו מכבוד ניתן לו שלוה כ"כ בעוה"ז ומהן אתה למד מתן שכרן של צדיקים בעוה"ז ובעה"ב והיינו דסיים במדרש על ואחר כבוד תקחני שאתה עתיד לעלותינו, כן נראה לי נכון וברור בעזה"י לולי דרש"י ותוס' כתבו בענין אחר דקאי על מזמור ע"ט, ואף דלפי מה שכתבתי נתישב ג"כ על מזמור ע"ט אלא דנראה לי עיקר דעיקר הדרש אתחילת מזמורי אסף קאי ואפשר דה"ה לכולהו דאיירי בהאי ענינא דוק ותשכח ואולי מקום הניחו לי מן השמים בזה:

Interestingly, Meiri has a slightly different girsa, which adds two words to what seems similar to Rashi's position. To Rashi, the Mizmor reference is that it's random that he learned something while waiting for his father to wake, and it has no connection to his honoring his father. Meiri agrees:

ומה שאמרו על זה איסתייעא מלתא ודרש מזמור לאסף בתריסר אפי הוא שתמהו בו מזמור לאסף אלהים באו גוים בנחלתך שמו את ירושלם לעיים אדרבה קינה לאסף מיבעי ליה ואחד מהם הוא שאמר שירה על שכלה חמתו בעצים ואבנים שבה ולא נהרגו כלם וכדכתוב כלה י"י את חמתו ויצת אש בציון:

And that which the [sages] say about this, "He received support for the matter and expounded Mizmor L'asaf with the 12 Faces," that he had questioned about "Mizmor L'asaf, God, the nations have come into Your inheritance... they have made Jerusalem into heaps." [He said] "Just the opposite, it should be Lament of Asaf." And one of them said that it is a song for [God] consumed His fury on wood and stones, and they didn't all get killed, as it says (Lamentations 4:11) "God consumed His fury and kindled a fire against Zion."


What in the world is the "12 faces"? In Nedarim 41a. it says that Rebbe knew 13 interpretations of the Mishnah, called "תליסר אפי", literally 13 faces. And I know that there are a few girsas of that say it was 12, "תריסר אפי". Akeidat Yitzchak has it as תריסר אפי, and gives an interesting understanding of this case in Gate 150:

יומא חד אמר ליה אשקיין מיא אדאייתי ליה נמנם גחין קאי עליה עד דאיתער אסתייעא מילתא ודריש מזמור לאסף בתריסר אפי כי ממה שהחמירה תורה בכבודו של אב ומוראו ראה שחוייב לו לעשות לו יקר יותר באלו העליונים ממה שיעשה לזולתו הראוי לכבדו. ולזה מצא עצמו מחוייב מתורת החסידות לעשות כן והוא מה שאמרו רבי אבהו אביו כשאמר כגון אבימי ברי קיים מצו' כבוד לבאר שלא עשה בזה רק החיוב במצוה הזאת אלא שהענין במצות כמו הענין בצדק כי הצדיק הוא שעושה מה שכתוב בנמוס בלי תוספת וחסרון אמנם החסיד הוא העושה כראוי בעת הצורך כמו שכתבנו בשער מ"ג ואפשר כי לזה אמרו מה דאסתייעא מלתא להודיע מה שהביאו לשלימות המעשה והוא השקידה בתורה שאפילו בשעה ההיא לא פנה לבו ממנה.

"One day he said to him, Pour water for me. While he was coming, he fell asleep. [Avimi] stood bent over him until he would wake up. He recieved support for the matter and expounded Mizmor L'asaf with the 12 faces." Because from how strict the Torah is with honor of the father and reverence of him, he saw that he was obligated to be much more dear to him in these lofty ways than how he would act for others it would be proper for him to honor. And for this, he found himself obligated in the framework of piety to do so, and this is what they said, "Rabbi Abahu his father," when he said, "Like Avimi my son has fulfilled the command of honor" - to clarify that he did not do this only as an obligation to do a commandment, rather that the matter in commandments is like the matter of righteousness, for a righteous person does what is written in the Law with no additions or subtractions. But the pious person does what is proper in a time of need, like we wrote about in Gate 43. And it is possible regarding that which they said, "He received support for the matter," to inform that they produce something as a completion of the act, which is diligence in Torah, for even in that time [that he was waiting for his father] he did not distract his heart from it.

Also, in Meiri's introduction to Avot, he has it as תריסר אפי, but the editor seems to want to correct it to 13 to reflect our girsa: "ורבינו הקדוש ידע הכל כמ"ש במסכת נדרים מ"א א' רבי הוה גמיר (תריסר) [תליסר] אפי הלכתא וקבצן בכחו ובחכמתו"

What it would seem in that case is that the Meiri understands Avimi to have employed the principle of "12 faces" - meaning, using a method that would allow you to arrive at an alternate logical conclusion that would make the destruction of the Temple into something to sing about.

(By the way, Moscow - Guenzburg 1134 to Nedarim 41a has it as 13 thousands - אלפי - which seems to make a bit more sense to me as an exaggerated number, similar to other exaggerated numbers to demonstrate how little he gave over to Rebbe Chiya.)

But I thought that the end of his discussion is using the verse in Lamentations - what if that was called תריסר אפי for its use of the aleph-bet acrostic. But why? It happens to be the relevant verse is number 11, but maybe for Meiri in his time it was 12.

The Meiri's source (and Rashi's source as well) seems to be Eichah Rabbah 4:14, where it indeed has this question and answer about why it says Mizmor instead of Kinah:

 והדין: כלה ה' את חמתו שפך חרון אפו ויצת אש בציון. כתיב: (תהלים ע"ט) מזמור לאסף אלהים באו גוים בנחלתך. לא הוה קרא צריך למימר, אלא בכי לאסף, נהי לאסף, קינה לאסף. ומה אומר מזמור לאסף? אלא משל למלך שעשה בית חופה לבנו וסיידה וכיידה וציירה, ויצא בנו לתרבות רעה. מיד עלה המלך לחופה וקרע את הוילאות ושיבר את הקנים. ונטל פדגוג שלו איבוב של קנים והיה מזמר. אמרו לו: המלך הפך חופתו של בנו ואת יושב ומזמר? אמר להם: מזמר אני שהפך חופתו של בנו ולא שפך חמתו על בנו. כך אמרו לאסף הקדוש ברוך הוא החריב היכל ומקדש ואתה יושב ומזמר? אמר להם: מזמר אני ששפך הקדוש ברוך הוא חמתו על העצים ועל האבנים, ולא שפך חמתו על ישראל. הדא הוא דכתיב: ויצת אש בציון ותאכל יסודותיה.

But then we find the Vatican 111 manuscript, which refers to תמניא אפי. Take a look, starting with the fourth word in:

יומא (י)חד אמ' ל' אייתי לי מיא עד דאייתו ל'[יה] נימנם גחים ל'[יה] עד דאיתער איסתי[י]עא מילתא ודרש אבימי מזמור לאסף (בתמניא אפי(לו)) ליש' אח' אשרי תמימי דרך בתמנייא אפי

One day he said to him, "Bring me water." While he was bringing it to him, he fell asleep. He bent over him until he would awake. He received support, and Avimi expounded Mizmor L'Asaf. Another tradition goes: [He expounded] "Happy are they that are upright in the way..." in the Eight Faces [of Psalms 119].

So this is clearly different than the girsas we have. It adds in another tradition of what chapter of Psalms he expounded. (Psalms 119 is referred by "Eight Faces" because it has 8 verses for each letter of the Aleph Bet.)

How do we explain the discrepancy? Is it that the Meiri, Akedat Yitzchak, and this girsa are related? If a scribe misunderstood the other text, which is which? It's possible that this girsa misinterpreted "תריסר אפי" for "תמניא אפי", and added in the start of Psalm 119 as well. Which is far-fetched, I think. More likely, the original text said one or the other, without the verse, and the numbers got mixed up somehow. Since תריסר אפי is the more obscure number, this was likely the text that it started with (as per Meiri, Akedat Yitzchak, etc, and someone changed it to the less obscure number, which is תמניא אפי. On the other hand, תמניא אפי makes more sense to be a reference here, since he expounded something, and to refer to it as being expounded by תריסר אפי is very strange and perhaps wasn't in the original text.

Now, the summer of 2017, I believe I have solved the mystery. Can it be an accident that there are exactly 12 chapters of Psalms which begin with some variation of “Mizmor L’asaf,” or “L’asaf Mizmor,” etc? These are Psalms 50, and Psalms 73-83. Perhaps we can turn to Psalm 50 as the first time it says, "Mizmor l'asaf.” For the Meiri, this girsa means nothing more than identifying the Mizmor l’asaf in the category of the 12 chapters of Psalms bearing his title. But, I could suggest what Avimi realized is that the point of Kibud Av is not to actually give his father the drink, since his father was sleeping and thus there was no point to stand over him waiting. Rather, it was to give thanks to him, and to show this, he waited to give him his drink. We see this in verse 13-14, when it comes to God's honor: יג הַאוֹכַל, בְּשַׂר אַבִּירִים; וְדַם עַתּוּדִים אֶשְׁתֶּה. יד זְבַח לֵאלֹהִים תּוֹדָה; וְשַׁלֵּם לְעֶלְיוֹן נְדָרֶיךָ. And the last verse, 23, brings this home: כג זֹבֵחַ תּוֹדָה יְכַבְּדָנְנִי וְשָׂם דֶּרֶךְ אַרְאֶנּוּ בְּיֵשַׁע אֱלֹהִים: A question that the meforshim implicitly discuss (Rashi, Ibn Ezra, Radak), is how can God say in one instance He cares not for sacrifices, and then say that one should offer sacrifices to God to be saved? And indeed, that in 23 it honors God? Rashi, for example, answers that Todah is the language of viduy, confession, and thus God cares not for one’s sacrifices. Sacrifices are for the people. So, says Rashi, do viduy and repentance, and then God will accept one’s promises for sacrifices. Rashi says this on 14 and again on 23. Avimi realized that Todah refers to its simple meaning, thanksgiving. God cares not for sacrifices for their own sake. But He does want man to acknowledge his gratitude, and to pay God what is worthy to be paid. At the end, the Psalmist says God considers this an “honor” of Him. So too with Kibud Av. It is hard to see how he would be obligated in that case to stay until his father woke up. But maybe, Avimi wanted to show gratitude.

The Source for Torturous Prison

The Talmud Sanhedrin 81b states:

ומאי כיפה? - אמר רב יהודה: מלא קומתו, והיכא רמיזא? - אמר ריש לקיש: (תהלים ל"ד) תמותת רשע רעה. ואמר ריש לקיש: מאי דכתיב (קהלת ט') כי [גם] לא ידע האדם את עתו כדגים שנאחזים במצודה רעה, מאי מצודה רעה? אמר ריש לקיש: חכה

What is a kipah prison? Rav Yehuda says, It fills his height. Where is this hinted? Resh Lakish said, (Psalms 34:22) "Evil will kill the wicked." And Resh Lakish said, "What does it mean that which is written (Kohelet 9:12) For a person does not even know his time, like the fish that are caught with an evil trap..." What is an "evil trap"? Resh Lakish said, A fish hook.

What are we to make of this passage? What is the proof for a small prison where a person is too big for it?

It seems, at first glance, that Resh Lakish has a consistent interpretation of the word "ra'ah" for the wicked. And that is, he relates the verse of "ra'ah" will kill the wicked, to being put in prison that is too small. But it remains unclear what the connection is, until you see that he believes a fish caught in an "evil trap" refers to a fish hook, which is small and causes lots of pain. So "ra'ah" refers to something that is small and causes great pain.

But this is not in the words, and seems to have nothing particular to do with Psalms 34:22. Until you look at the context.

What's interesting is that the Psalmist promises to save the righteous and "guard his bones," and then the verse comes that "evil will kill the wicked."

20 Many evils befall the righteous, but the Lord saves him from them all.
21 He guards all his bones; not one of them was broken.
22 Evil will kill the wicked, and those who hate the righteous shall be accounted guilty.

What if Resh Lakish saw the relationship between God's act for the righetous, making sure his bones are alright, and the act for the wicked, which is to kill him through "ra'ah", which is apparently to break his bones (or at least hurt them)? And thus, he looks at the "ra'ah" in the case of a fish, and says, these are similar!

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3/23/17

Another issue of sources is the next Mishnah, which states:

ההורג נפש שלא בעדים. מכניסין אותו לכיפה ומאכילין אותו לחם צר ומים לחץ

One who kills someone in the absence of witnesses, they put him in a prison and feed him sparing bread and scant water.

The issue here is that the previous statement was this:

One who is lashed [as punishment for a transgression] and then repeats [that transgression], the court puts him in the dome and feeds him barley until his stomach bursts.

So why is it that a person who kills gets fed bad water and bread in prison, while a repeat offender of malkut gets death by torture? The Talmud suggests the following answer: In both cases, the person gets death by torture. How is this accomplished? By feeding him first scant water and bread til his stomach shrinks, and then feeding him barley (which expands in water), thus making his stomach burst.

The Talmud's question is why these punishments should be different, and answers that they are indeed not. But it is not concerned for the order, nor the reason why the Mishnah simply doesn't say it like how the Talmud describes it. If the Talmud is right, the provision of scant water, etc, should come before the provision of barley. This is not only out of order, but against pshat.

In Margoliot HaYam, Rav Reuven provides the suggestion (if I recall it correctly) that the murder case would obviously get the death penalty, but it wasn't obvious for the repeat offender. Therefore, it had to be explicit of the end punishment for the repeat offender, which it didn't have to do for the murderer without witnesses.

This led me to examine the last part of the provision to feed him "lechem tzar umayim lachatz." The Mesorat Hashas notes that this is a quote from Isaiah 30:20. It is a very strange verse to draw from for the concept of torturing a person, because it says that "God gives you bread of adversity, and water of affliction, yet your teacher shall not withdraw himself any more..." This is a metaphor! And seemingly positive outcome from it!

There is little doubt in my mind that there is a girsa issue here, and the more appropriate sources is actually I Kings 22:27 (comes up in II Chronicles 18:26). There, Achav imprisons Michayahu, the prophet who tells him what he doesn't want to hear. Achav commands שִׂימוּ אֶת-זֶה, בֵּית הַכֶּלֶא; וְהַאֲכִלֻהוּ לֶחֶם לַחַץ, וּמַיִם לַחַץ. "Put this guy in prison, and feed him with scant bread and with scant water."

This makes much more sense to allude to - especially if our theory is correct and the rabbis had some reservations about employing this method (to be discussed elsewhere).

"He Did What He Did" - Rav, the Evil Eye, and a Textual Variant

Yesterday's daf was Bava Metzia 107, and there is a very interesting discussion of the "evil eye" on 107b. Rav interprets a verse:

והסיר ה' ממך כל חולי אמר רב זו עין רב לטעמיה דרב סליק לבי קברי עבד מאי דעבד אמר תשעין ותשעה בעין רעה ואחד בדרך ארץ

(Deuteronomy 7:15) "And God will remove all sickness from you..." Rav said: This is the Ayin (hara). Rav is going according to his reasoning, for Rav entered a cemetery, did what he did. He said 99 [died] by the evil eye, and one normally.

I came across this, and was mystified by a few things. First and foremost, what did Rav do? Secondly, why did Rav not simply think that the sickness referred to was, well, sickness? Why did it have to be supernatural? And thirdly, how does the cemetery visit relate to his interpretation of the verse?

Micha Berger commented on R. Josh Yuter's post summarizing this piece saying that it's all metaphorical:

Since "evil eye" means looking at others with jealousy or begrudging what they have.... An "ayin hara", minus all the segulah-talk and going back to the mishnaic idioms, would be the punishment for conspicuous consumption and intentionally causing jealousy. If someone it trying not just to enjoy their wealth, but to put it in others' faces, the measure-for-measure punishment is to take it away. "Ayin hara" doesn't actually refer to the gaze of the "green eyed monster", but it might as well. Rav is also the amora whose arrival in Bavel marks the beginning of the talmudic age there. (Unless you are a fan of Shemu'el, but same generation.) So the people in the cemetery are primarily those living in Bavel before it became a Torah center. And who lived quite better than what Rav saw back in the old country, Israel. Rav is bemoaning the prevalence of this attitude to wealth. Saying that the wealthy need to learn a little tzeni'us in how they enjoy their wealth, or it'll kill them.

I'm not sure this meaning is meant, but it is important that Rav as a Babylonian is significant. The Yerushalmi Shabbat 14:3 says that the Ayin Hara descended to Babylonia. So there is some power to the statement that Babylonia and Ayin Hara, and Rav as its start of the Talmudic age, are connected.

But let's start with Rashi. He is clearly also concerned with my questions above. He writes that:

כל חלי. דבר שכל החלאים תלוין בו. וזו העין עין רעה:

This means that Rav's connection is that he thinks all disease originates through the ayin hara. If God promises to take away all sickness, He is promising to take away its root cause, which is supernatural.

(This goes deeper. This is a source I have not yet encountered in my collection of Rashi's opinion about medicine. In this sourcesheet, I show that Rashi's view of disease is that it has a positive benefit of keeping people religious and full of prayer. It is indeed possible to argue that Rashi sees disease as directly from supernatural or divine causes, and the role of the doctor is an illicit meddling with the divine plan. If so, the supernatural element here is the evil eye.

Another thing about Rashi to point out here is that he believes in Tamid 32a that if a person indulges in life, and people are jealous of him, he will get the ayin hara. יחיה את עצמו - יגבה את עצמו ומתוך כך יתנו בו הבריות עין רעה ויקנאו בו וימות ולימדוך חכמים שאדם הרוצה שיחיה ישפיל את עצמו וירחמו עליו הבריות ויחיה שנים הרבה ומגאוה ימנע את עצמו שלא יקצרו ימיו וימות בלא עתו)

And so what did Rav do? According to Rashi, he said incantations on the graves to find out how they died:

עבד מה דעבד. יודע היה ללחוש על הקברות ולהבין על כל קבר וקבר באיזו מיתה מת אם מת בזמנו אם בעין רעה

Rashi believes he did magic, and implicitly answers the question why the Talmud doesn't tell us what happened: it’s the dark arts.

However, I was still puzzled by the enigmatic aspects of this passage. And so I went to the manuscripts. What I found was a single manuscript that has something. The Escorial G-I-3 manuscript describes what Rav did:

דרב סליק לבי קברי עבד מה דעבד נטל בדי הדס ונעצן בבית הקברות ומצאן לתשעים ותשעה שנכמשו ואחד יבש אותן שנכמשו מתו מעין רעה והיבש מת כדרכו אמ' תשעים ותשעה בעין הרע מתו ואחד בדרך ארץ

Rav entered a cemetery. He did what he did - he took myrtle branches, and implanted them into the cemetery. He found that 99 withered, and one dried. Those that withered died of the evil eye, and the dried one died naturally. He said: 99 with the evil eye and one normally.

What we see is that he took branches of myrtle (why myrtle is unclear), and apparently planted 100 of them. Presumably, he planted them on top of 100 graves and watched what would happen, but it is also possible he did it in one bunch somewhere in the cemetery.

This girsa creates a whole new story. What he did was not magic, at least not incantations. He used natural branches to demonstrate seemingly supernatural results.

But I am tempted to interpret this in a new way. This can answer our questions. What if Rav was saying by interpreting "all sickness" as the ayin hara, was that ayin hara refers to a type of disease? Why I see this is that he planted myrtle branches in the cemetery, and it says that ayin hara attacked the plants and caused them to wither. How does ayin hara affect inanimate objects? It could be that I just don't understand how ayin hara works in the gemara. After all, it is possible that these people in the cemetery died of ayin hara, and therefore anything that attaches to them would also be affected supernaturally by the association. But I am tempted to say this it really sounds like ayin hara is an actual physical disease...

(5/8/2019) As to the connection to myrtle, the myrtle obviously represents the eyes, as we see in Midrashim related to the hadassim of the four species on Sukkot (Sefer ha-Hinukh, #285). (end)

No other manuscript I have found has this story. Cambridge manuscript (T-S NS 329.143) says shortly that Rav "did what he did כההוא מעשה" but is not specific what Rav did.

However, the Aruch actually does not have this girsa, but has an interpretation that fits into the general genre of this. This is the page of the Aruch HaShalem:

The Aruch lists two possibilities: he performed a she'elat chalom to get the answer in a dream, or he planted trees! This kind of sounds like our variant girsa! If you look at the Aruch, he gives more details on the second possibility, that he planted trees and made vows upon them to grow, and then judged that only one grew, that the rest were affected by ayin hara.

The Aruch quotes another gemara, one where someone "עבד מאי דעבד" and it’s also in a cemetery! In the Aruch's girsa of Shabbat 34a, it says "עבד מה דעבד" for Ben Zakkai, that he made marks in a cemetery to show where it was tahor and no dead bodies were. Our girsa says, though עבד איהו נמי הכי, כל היכא דהוה קשי - טהריה, וכל היכא דהוה רפי צייניה.

There are more interesting things about this Aruch's entry, but I find it interesting that in our gemaras on Bava Metzia, we don't have the version from the manuscript. And apparently we have such a concept elsewhere, in Shabbat. So why was it left out here? It's possible that our variant scribe inserted an explanation that it knew from the Aruch or from this similar gemara in Shabbat, and therefore the more difficult text is often the correct one.

Tosafot haRosh actually agrees with this position of the Aruch: עבד מאי דעבד. פירש בערוך שנטע אילנות על הקברים והשביעם שלא יוציאו פרח אלא אותם שנטועים על אותם שמתו בזמנם.

While we are on the topic of Tosafot, I have an answer for the Meharsha's question on Tosafot that is indubitably correct, in my opinion. Tosafot asks on this:

וא"ת א"כ בני יוסף שלא שלטה בהן עין הרע היה להן לחיות הרבה מכל השבטים וי"ל שמתו בדרך ארץ יותר מאחרים כשהקב"ה היה רוצה להמיתן היה שולח להם חלאים אחרים:

Question: If so, the descendants of Yosef, who do not have the Evil Eye having power over them, they should have had more lives (or: lived longer) than all the other tribes? Answer: They died naturally more than others. When God wanted to make them die, he sent them other diseases.

The Meharsha asks a question:

ק"ק לפ"ז דהאי בי קברי וכי לא היו ביניהם מבני יוסף וי"ל דלא גלוי מבני יוסף לבבל שבכלל עשרת השבטים היו שגלו ללחלח וחבור וכו' וק"ל:

A small question according to this: This is a cemetery, were there no descendants of Yosef in it? And the answer: The descendants of Yosef were never exiled to Babylonia, who were part of the ten tribes who were exiled to Halah, and Habor (I Chronicles 5:26), and k"l.

I think a simpler answer to Meharsha, and this is probably why he called it a "ktzat kasha", which is that yes, there happened not to be any descendants of Yosef in this cemetery. In fact, Tosafot Rabbeinu Peretz was apparently concerned for this question, because he says, “That’s how it happened to be.”

וא"ת בני יוסף שלא שלטה בהם עין הרע אמאי לא חיו הרבה מכל השבטים וי"ל דכשהקב"ה רצה להמיתם שולח להם חלאים אחרים אבל הני מתו כולן בעין הרע כך אירע הדבר

Another answer is that the one who survived was the descendant of Yosef.

Some things to tie up.

Is there any connection between this and Aaron's budding staff in Numbers 17? I'm not sure.

What if the myrtle branches are significant? Is there significance to planting in a cemetery?

"He Did What He Did" - Rav, the Evil Eye, and a Textual Variant

Yesterday's daf was Bava Metzia 107, and there is a very interesting discussion of the "evil eye" on 107b. Rav interprets a verse:

והסיר ה' ממך כל חולי אמר רב זו עין רב לטעמיה דרב סליק לבי קברי עבד מאי דעבד אמר תשעין ותשעה בעין רעה ואחד בדרך ארץ

(Deuteronomy 7:15) "And God will remove all sickness from you..." Rav said: This is the Ayin (hara). Rav is going according to his reasoning, for Rav entered a cemetery, did what he did. He said 99 [died] by the evil eye, and one normally.

I came across this, and was mystified by a few things. First and foremost, what did Rav do? Secondly, why did Rav not simply think that the sickness referred to was, well, sickness? Why did it have to be supernatural? And thirdly, how does the cemetery visit relate to his interpretation of the verse?

Micha Berger commented on R. Josh Yuter's post summarizing this piece saying that it's all metaphorical:

Since "evil eye" means looking at others with jealousy or begrudging what they have.... An "ayin hara", minus all the segulah-talk and going back to the mishnaic idioms, would be the punishment for conspicuous consumption and intentionally causing jealousy. If someone it trying not just to enjoy their wealth, but to put it in others' faces, the measure-for-measure punishment is to take it away. "Ayin hara" doesn't actually refer to the gaze of the "green eyed monster", but it might as well. Rav is also the amora whose arrival in Bavel marks the beginning of the talmudic age there. (Unless you are a fan of Shemu'el, but same generation.) So the people in the cemetery are primarily those living in Bavel before it became a Torah center. And who lived quite better than what Rav saw back in the old country, Israel. Rav is bemoaning the prevalence of this attitude to wealth. Saying that the wealthy need to learn a little tzeni'us in how they enjoy their wealth, or it'll kill them.

I'm not sure this meaning is meant, but it is important that Rav as a Babylonian is significant. The Yerushalmi Shabbat 14:3 says that the Ayin Hara descended to Babylonia. So there is some power to the statement that Babylonia and Ayin Hara, and Rav as its start of the Talmudic age, are connected.

But let's start with Rashi. He is clearly also concerned with my questions above. He writes that:

כל חלי. דבר שכל החלאים תלוין בו. וזו העין עין רעה:

This means that Rav's connection is that he thinks all disease originates through the ayin hara. If God promises to take away all sickness, He is promising to take away its root cause, which is supernatural.

(This goes deeper. This is a source I have not yet encountered in my collection of Rashi's opinion about medicine. In this sourcesheet, I show that Rashi's view of disease is that it has a positive benefit of keeping people religious and full of prayer. It is indeed possible to argue that Rashi sees disease as directly from supernatural or divine causes, and the role of the doctor is an illicit meddling with the divine plan. If so, the supernatural element here is the evil eye.)

And so what did Rav do? According to Rashi, he said incantations on the graves to find out how they died:

עבד מה דעבד. יודע היה ללחוש על הקברות ולהבין על כל קבר וקבר באיזו מיתה מת אם מת בזמנו אם בעין רעה

Rashi believes he did magic, and implicitly answers the question why the Talmud doesn't tell us what happened: it’s the dark arts.

However, I was still puzzled by the enigmatic aspects of this passage. And so I went to the manuscripts. What I found was a single manuscript that has something. The Escorial G-I-3 manuscript describes what Rav did:

דרב סליק לבי קברי עבד מה דעבד נטל בדי הדס ונעצן בבית הקברות ומצאן לתשעים ותשעה שנכמשו ואחד יבש אותן שנכמשו מתו מעין רעה והיבש מת כדרכו אמ' תשעים ותשעה בעין הרע מתו ואחד בדרך ארץ

Rav entered a cemetery. He did what he did - he took myrtle branches, and implanted them into the cemetery. He found that 99 withered, and one dried. Those that withered died of the evil eye, and the dried one died naturally. He said: 99 with the evil eye and one normally.

What we see is that he took branches of myrtle (why myrtle is unclear), and apparently planted 100 of them. Presumably, he planted them on top of 100 graves and watched what would happen, but it is also possible he did it in one bunch somewhere in the cemetery.

This girsa creates a whole new story. What he did was not magic, at least not incantations. He used natural branches to demonstrate seemingly supernatural results.

But I am tempted to interpret this in a new way. This can answer our questions. What if Rav was saying by interpreting "all sickness" as the ayin hara, was that ayin hara refers to a type of disease? Why I see this is that he planted myrtle branches in the cemetery, and it says that ayin hara attacked the plants and caused them to wither. How does ayin hara affect inanimate objects? It could be that I just don't understand how ayin hara works in the gemara. After all, it is possible that these people in the cemetery died of ayin hara, and therefore anything that attaches to them would also be affected supernaturally by the association. But I am tempted to say this it really sounds like ayin hara is an actual physical disease...

No other manuscript I have found has this story. Cambridge manuscript (T-S NS 329.143) says shortly that Rav "did what he did כההוא מעשה" but is not specific what Rav did.

However, the Aruch actually does not have this girsa, but has an interpretation that fits into the general genre of this. This is the page of the Aruch HaShalem:

The Aruch lists two possibilities: he performed a she'elat chalom to get the answer in a dream, or he planted trees! This kind of sounds like our variant girsa! If you look at the Aruch, he gives more details on the second possibility, that he planted trees and made vows upon them to grow, and then judged that only one grew, that the rest were affected by ayin hara.

The Aruch quotes another gemara, one where someone "עבד מאי דעבד" and it’s also in a cemetery! In the Aruch's girsa of Shabbat 34a, it says "עבד מה דעבד" for Ben Zakkai, that he made marks in a cemetery to show where it was tahor and no dead bodies were. Our girsa says, though עבד איהו נמי הכי, כל היכא דהוה קשי - טהריה, וכל היכא דהוה רפי צייניה.

There are more interesting things about this Aruch's entry, but I find it interesting that in our gemaras on Bava Metzia, we don't have the version from the manuscript. And apparently we have such a concept elsewhere, in Shabbat. So why was it left out here? It's possible that our variant scribe inserted an explanation that it knew from the Aruch or from this similar gemara in Shabbat, and therefore the more difficult text is often the correct one.

Tosafot haRosh actually agrees with this position of the Aruch: עבד מאי דעבד. פירש בערוך שנטע אילנות על הקברים והשביעם שלא יוציאו פרח אלא אותם שנטועים על אותם שמתו בזמנם.

While we are on the topic of Tosafot, I have an answer for the Meharsha's question on Tosafot that is indubitably correct, in my opinion. Tosafot asks on this:

וא"ת א"כ בני יוסף שלא שלטה בהן עין הרע היה להן לחיות הרבה מכל השבטים וי"ל שמתו בדרך ארץ יותר מאחרים כשהקב"ה היה רוצה להמיתן היה שולח להם חלאים אחרים:

Question: If so, the descendants of Yosef, who do not have the Evil Eye having power over them, they should have had more lives (or: lived longer) than all the other tribes? Answer: They died naturally more than others. When God wanted to make them die, he sent them other diseases.

The Meharsha asks a question:

ק"ק לפ"ז דהאי בי קברי וכי לא היו ביניהם מבני יוסף וי"ל דלא גלוי מבני יוסף לבבל שבכלל עשרת השבטים היו שגלו ללחלח וחבור וכו' וק"ל:

A small question according to this: This is a cemetery, were there no descendants of Yosef in it? And the answer: The descendants of Yosef were never exiled to Babylonia, who were part of the ten tribes who were exiled to Halah, and Habor (I Chronicles 5:26), and k"l.

I think a simpler answer to Meharsha, and this is probably why he called it a "ktzat kasha", which is that yes, there happened not to be any descendants of Yosef in this cemetery. In fact, Tosafot Rabbeinu Peretz was apparently concerned for this question, because he says, “That’s how it happened to be.”

וא"ת בני יוסף שלא שלטה בהם עין הרע אמאי לא חיו הרבה מכל השבטים וי"ל דכשהקב"ה רצה להמיתם שולח להם חלאים אחרים אבל הני מתו כולן בעין הרע כך אירע הדבר

Another answer is that the one who survived was the descendant of Yosef.

Some things to tie up.

Is there any connection between this and Aaron's budding staff in Numbers 17? I'm not sure.

What if the myrtle branches are significant? Is there significance to planting in a cemetery?

Gersonides Final - Dr. Rynhold

Aryeh Sklar

Gersonides Final

Professor Rynhold

2.

In attempting to adduce Gersonides’ view of prophecy, one may find that Gersonides has a view at odds with the traditional religious definition of prophecy as a supernatural event. In some fashion, it can be contrasted with the view of Maimonides. Maimonides, on the one hand, goes in two directions with this. It is true, he says that prophecy is natural inasmuch as those with perfected intellects and morality can receive true prophecy automatically. They then receive information through the Active Intellect, to the rational faculty and subsequently to the imaginative faculty, which have to have been perfected to the highest level. However, he says, God can “intervene” and remove one’s ability to receive the prophecy. This is supernatural in a way.

But another way Gersonides’s view can be contrasted with Maimonides is in his view of the knowledge of the prophet over the philosopher. Maimonides seems to consider the prophet as being in possession of more information than the philosopher, since the prophet receives information from the Active Intellect to both his rational and imaginative faculties, while the prophet only receives this information to his rational faculty (Guide 2:37). The advantage of the prophet is that he can now make true predictions. Thus, it can be said for Maimonides that the prophet has more information than the wise man.

We might be tempted to say that it is similar to what Gersonides writes in his introduction to Wars of the Lord, “[T]he knowledge of the prophet is generally greater than the knowledge of a wise man who is not a prophet.” However, what Gersonides meant by this is that the prophet attains knowledge more easily, in a swifter way, than the wise man, and that is their only difference. Thus, the prophet generally has more knowledge just because it comes to him faster than just through wisdom. And this seems to bear out in Gersonides’ description of the prophet, which seems to be very naturalistic. This seems to be more naturalistic than even Maimonides’ view.

(At the outset, I would like demonstrate that our question does not pertain to dreams and divinations, which are not prophecy, and certainly the quote above does not apply to them, as Gersonides makes clear, (59) “A condition for prophecy is wisdom, which is obvious from the very nature of prophecy. But this is not true for divination or dreams. Indeed, sometimes children and fools have more such knowledge [by way of divination and dreams] than many who are wiser than they.” He also argues that a person can divine or dream theoretical knowledge without knowing first principles, which cannot happen in prophecy.)

It may be true that the prophet is a wise person. But not every wise person is a prophet. Indeed, there are elements of the prophet for Gersonides which place him on a much different level of knowledge than the wise man who is not a prophet. For example, his discussion of free will and prophecy is resolved through viewing prophecy as knowing heavenly-determined events which can change through choice. I shall explain.

The problem he deals with, along with Averroes, is how humans could predict events and retain free will. For if events can be predicted because they are necessary, then we lack free will because they will happen. But if they are contingent, how can we accurately depict the future? Averroes, he notes, “decided that there is no communication with respect to chance events.”

Gersonides’ own answer is that human events are determined, with an exception - if man makes a choice through his intellect to defy the natural course of events. The natural course of events is determined, which is so from the fact that we see that “astrologers… can frequently predict the thoughts and actions of man correctly.” And the fact that they also often err is of no consequence, since we merely lack enough knowledge to be able to be accurate 100% of the time. “We know very little of this [astrologically-ordained] order from observation, even over a long period of time. But the little we do know clearly reveals that the circumstances of human affairs are determined by the heavenly bodies.” And, he argues, we just see empirically there seems to be order to the universe. But, as we said earlier, Gersonides writes that “God has provided for this insofar as He has endowed us with the intellectual capacity that enable us both to act contrary to what has been ordered by the heavenly bodies and to correct, as far as possible, the misfortunes that befall us.” Prophecy comes in to allow us to predict events through the Agent Intellect, which contains knowledge of the spheres and the determined events.

What we see, then, is that the content of prediction is not based on man’s free choice, but the ability to predict the determined nature of the world, which Gersonides admits could be done if someone looks at the stars well enough. Thus, the information available to the prophet is not that much different from what a wise person could know. That is, it is not necessarily quantitatively different, but qualitatively different. It is as true as truth can be predicted. If the prophet is wrong, that is just because humans chose differently than predetermined events would have it. Gersonides is sure to mention the difficulty in a wise person using astrology to accurately predict events, since we need more time to observe the stars. The prophet thus gets knowledge that would otherwise take many years of observing the stars to know.

So now we know the content of prophecy is determined events of the heavenly bodies. This information is conveyed through the Agent Intellect, not particularly but generally. The prophet takes this information and particularize it to the situation concerning him or others. This is an extremely naturalistic view of prophecy. As such, the Agent Intellect cannot even impart supernatural particularized knowledge, just general abstract theory, and the human has to take that and apply it. So he writes, “The Agent Intellect imparts to the material intellect the pattern pertaining to a particular man instead of another man because the recipient of this communication has been thinking about this man, not because of any factor in the Agent Intellect itself.”

We know there is another area in which the prophet differs from the wise man - the prophet can cause miracles to happen. The Agent Intellect waits for the right person who has the prophetic ability to be at the right place, and the prophet “presses the spiritual miracle button”, so to speak, so he causes the miracle to happen by being there with his knowledge. In this way, he is above a simply wise person who lacks the prophetic ability.

Similarly, providence is increased the closer to the Agent Intellect one is in cognitive relationship, so that the prophet would seem to be granted more providential information than the wise man: “It is evident that what is more noble and closer to the perfection of the Agent Intellect receives the divine providence to a greater degree...Since man exhibits different levels of proximity to and remoteness from the Agent Intellect by virtue of his individual character, those that are more strongly attached to it receive divine providence individually...Accordingly, divine providence operates individually in some men (and) in varying degrees in others it does not appear at all.”

However, we can agree that the case can be made from Gersonides’ view of Moses’ uniqueness that the wise man and the prophet only differ as to the ease in which they obtain knowledge. Maimonides certainly saw Moses’ uniqueness as a pillar of Judaism, and his prophetic abilities were somehow much greater than any other prophet, based on the perfection of his imaginative faculty. For Gersonides, this would be difficult to explain, since there should not be a role for the imaginative faculty in prophecy - that is set aside for dreams and divinations. So what makes Moses unique?

According to Gersonides, it is that he was able to isolate his intellect from his other faculties better than anyone else. He was capable of not trembling and being afraid at the prophecy being received. According to this, the knowledge itself was not a unique aspect of Moses. Any prophet, seemingly, could obtain the same knowledge as Moses. And if the prophet just has the ability to obtain knowledge more easily than the wise man, then we can conclude Moses could have the same knowledge as a wise man, at least possibly. And Gersonides does not seem to be concerned for this.

So, we see that Gersonides’ view on prophecy has the prophet (as opposed to the dreamer or diviner) as a wise man who obtains knowledge more easily. However, we also see the prophet has certain abilities that the wise man does not - activation of miracles, and being absolutely right about determined events.

3.

Gersonides rejects Maimonides’ account of divine attributes, and proposes his own. Firstly, do his objections to Maimonides’ account hold water? And secondly, does his own account resolve the critiques he lays on Maimonides? In the next few pages, we shall investigate these two questions to critically evaluate Gersonides’ account of divine attributes.

Maimonides, in the Guide for the Perplexed 1:51-60, argues that God cannot be said to have attributes, since these would give God multiple aspects, removing Him from the category of absolutely simple. In Guide 1:51, he writes, “There is no oneness at all except in believing that there is one simple essence in which there is no complexity or multiplication of notions, but one notion only…” Rather, Maimonides writes, the only way to discuss God is (1:58) “by means of negation.” And, Maimonides gives some leeway to describe God in terms of actions done on earth. This means that if one were to see God described in prayers and Tanach as merciful, that just means the actions we attribute to God were merciful. Someone was saved, God was merciful.

Maimonides notes that we have to be “loose” when it comes to describing God, in some ways, just because there is nothing that language can do for the service of describing God. In the Guide 1:57 he writes “These subtle notions that very clearly elude the minds cannot be considered through the instrumentality of the customary words, which are the greatets among the causes leading unto erro. For the bounds of expression in all languages are very narrow indeed, so that we cannot represent this notion to ourselves except through a certain looseness of expression.” Indeed, in 1:59 he limits our language in describing God in such loose terms for reading the Torah or praying.

Gersonides disagrees with Maimonides in Wars 3:3. He argues that if we can say something perfect exists in man, in necessarily must exist in God. This is so, for example, with regard to knowledge. Yet we can say that a man knows, but we cannot say that God knows? There must be some equivalency between the terms “a man knows” and “God knows.”

This critique seems to fall flat. Why is it necessarily so that there is equivalency in the way God knows and the way man knows? God may have a completely unrecognizable sense of knowledge such that we cannot say He knows in any way that a man knows. Certainly Maimonides makes this explicit in Laws of Repentance 5:5, where he adjures his reader not to think about God’s knowledge because the reader simply will not be able to understand it:

“The Holy One, blessed be He, does not know with a knowledge that is external from Him as do men, whose knowledge and selves are two [different entities]. Rather, He, may His name be praised, and His knowledge are one. Human knowledge cannot comprehend this concept in its entirety for just as it is beyond the potential of man to comprehend and conceive the essential nature of the Creator, as [Exodus 33:20] states: "No man will perceive, Me and live," so, too, it is beyond man's potential to comprehend and conceive the Creator's knowledge. This was the intent of the prophet's [Isaiah 55:8] statements: "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways, My ways."Accordingly, we do not have the potential to conceive how The Holy One, blessed be He, knows all the creations and their deeds. However, this is known without any doubt.”

So, I would argue, Maimonides would at least consider God’s knowledge outside the realm of human conception. But this may be so of many other features as it regards God.

Gersonides also argues against any distinction between positive and negative attributes. In the same way as Maimonides says that positive attributes do not apply to God, so too negative attributes do not apply to God. If positive attribution cannot be used because it creates an equivocation between God and man, then so do negative attributes. But if we allow ourselves to use negative attribution, because we allow for some equivalency when it comes that way, we should be able to say its positive opposite with some equivalency.

However, I would argue that Maimonides would admit that we cannot really use negative attribution either - only that we must use it because we need something. Using negative attributes have the added bonus of allowing us to realize how different God is from us. This is a language game, as Maimonides would be the first to admit, and there is no good language when it touches the divine.

Be that as it may, Gersonides proposes using positive attributes such as “exists”, “one”, and “essence”, and the difference between the words in reference to man and God is a “difference in terms of greater perfection.” He must then answer for how he can do so if it violates God’s ultimate simplicity. His answer is that we are just using words, and linguistically, it doesn’t necessarily imply plurality. Linguistics is such that we might call “redness a red color,” even though it doesn’t contain two things, “color” and “red.”

I find this strange as an argument against Maimonides because Maimonides is also willing to claim linguistics can be loose, and we can recognize how words don’t mean the essence of a thing. But we limit this to religious conversation, because it’s bad to accustom ourselves to this in philosophic conversation. Again, Maimonides is concerned with comparisons and equivalences in the way we allow ourselves to describe God. In my reading of Maimonides, the problem of positive divine attributes isn’t necessarily that we are implying that God is complex, but that we are allowing ourselves to use language that is philosophically incorrect if taken literally. It’s bad for the philosophic mind to do so, to Maimonides. The fact that an artifact of language allows us to describe things in ways that seem pluralistic but aren’t just bolsters the point that we are afraid of the impression it allows for and we censor ourselves from making such statements.

Though Maimonides might be on solid ground even after Gersonides’ attack, one must admit that Gersonides has the upper hand on two levels. Firstly, his argument from the perspective of philosophy and linguistics can be adequately defended. He just comes from a differing perspective than Maimonides on whether descriptions of God imply plurality. But secondly, he definitely has the upper hand in terms of common religious sensibilities. Maimonides relegates the descriptions of God in the Torah and prayers as inappropriate philosophically, and only tolerated as religious “looseness” of language. However, Gersonides lifts up these descriptions as basically true descriptions of God, and this accords with the traditional religious understanding.