R. Yehuda said in the name of Shmuel: “Even if a Jew is the hired hand of a resident gentile (and the Jew does not live in the courtyard) he can contribute towards the eruv and this suffices.” R. Nachman said: “How great is this teaching.” R. Yehuda said in the name of Shmuel: “Someone who drinks a revi’it of wine cannot give halachic rulings.” R. Nachman said: This is not a great teaching since my mind thinks clearly only after drinking a revi’it of wine.” Rav said to him: “Why did the master speak this way? Did not R. Acha bar Chanina say: “’He that keeps company with prostitutes loses his wealth’ (Mishlei 29:3). Whoever says this teaching is pleasant and that one is not loses the wealth of Torah.” He said to him: “I retract my statement.” (Eruvin 64a)

R. Acha’s play on words gets lost in translation. He breaks up the Hebrew word “zonot” into the two words, “zo na’eh.” Thus, a verse about the destructiveness of prostitution suddenly refers to ranking rabbinic statements. How opposed to ranking are we?

Maharsha extends the scope of the opposition, contending that it applies to both negative and positive evaluations of rabbinic teachings. He argues that praising one statement often implies criticism of another. Therefore, we study without comparatively evaluating the worth of different rabbinic ideas. His position coheres with the play on words that objects to saying “zo na’eh.”

Yet taking this to an extreme appears difficult. Can students of Torah not express their love for certain works, particular passages, or specific ideas? Taking that option away removes an important vehicle for conveying attachment to Torah. Furthermore, can a scholar never articulate disagreement with some vehemence? Certainly, most arguments should simply focus on the issues involved but the occasional negative exclamation seems reasonable.

R. Shmuel Strashun notes that Chazal themselves engaged in such evaluations. For example, Rami bar Chama (Shavuot 45b) praises a particular teaching and no one objects to his formulation. Rashash concludes that, contra Maharsha, the problem exists only with regard to negative evaluations. This theory indicates a preference for positive discourse and opens up the possibility of talking about those parts of Torah we feel most strongly about.

Talmudic evidence motivates a further qualification. When Ulla says (Ta’anit 3b) that one of R. Chisda’s explanations is like “smoke to the eyes and vinegar to the teeth,” no one indicates displeasure with Ulla’s remark. Apparently, even negative evaluations have their place. Rashash suggests that a scholar can talk this way but only in the context of a rabbinic argument. Perhaps we can explain his point as follow. Critical language can be a natural part of argumentation; outside that context, it reflects a lack of respect or an excessive desire to criticize.

R. Yoshiyahu Pinto comes to an opposing conclusion. He argues that R. Nachman does not retract his opposing position, he only regrets his language. Scholars have every right to contest each other’s positions but they must do so respectfully. R. Pinto calls for a discourse of argument that focuses exclusively on the issues.

Varying positions indicate the delicate balance of these issues. On the one hand, we need to show respect to the totality of Torah. On the other hand, expressing our love for particular parts of Torah, and perhaps even our difficulty with other aspects, should also have a place.

[I have enjoyed writing both aggada blogs and medieval Jewish philosophy blogs this past year and I thank WebYeshiva for the forum and readers for stimulating comments. Next week, I will shift to the new academic year’s topics and focus on Avot and Ramban’s commentary on the Torah.]