Pharisaism, Its Aim and Its Method

by R. Travers Herford

It is evident that for the religion of Torah the prime necessity was to know the meaning of the Scriptures in general and of the Pentateuch in particular. The oral Tradition started with the interpretation of Scripture; and never in its furthest flights of allegorical extravagance or daring imagination did it wholly forget or entirely disown its connection with the written word. The connection is not always easy to trace; but it is there, none the less. The Tradition of the Elders, wherever it be examined, and whatever be the subject of its pronouncements, is, from first to last, and from its highest to its lowest, the declaration that, when God gave the Torah to Israel, "this" and "this" and "this" is what he meant by it.

When Ezra and his successors made it their chief task to study and interpret the written Torah, what they looked for before everything else was direction for doing the divine will. The reasons why they took this line have already been explained, and need not be repeated (see above, Chapter II.). The effect was that in the body of tradition gradually formed, the element of precept was the most conspicuous and the most systematically developed. It was essential that the Jew, desiring to serve God, should know exactly what he was commanded to do, and what he was forbidden to do, and what was the right course to take in cases where no divine command or prohibition had been explicitly given. The Halachah was the answer to these questions; being of the nature of a comprehensive rule of right conduct, and intended to cover every possible occasion on which a decision was called for. The results, obtained by proper methods of interpretation, and recognised as valid by competent authority, were clear and definite, and could only be disputed by showing that in fact the real intention of Scripture was otherwise. Hence it was possible to elaborate a consistent system of Halachah, and eventually to codify it all.[15]

But the interpreters of Scripture found more in its pages than precept; the Torah taught other things besides directions for doing the divine will. It contained instruction about God Himself, about Israel's relation to Him, about the creation and divine providence as shown in past history, about human virtues and vices, and the divine approval or disapproval of them, and so on. It was the task of the interpreters to set forth this teaching, as well as the positive or negative precepts. It is probable that the early Sopherim described their work of interpretation as a whole by the word Haggadah; or, rather, that they used the cognate verb "higgid" to indicate that the Scripture "declared" so and so. But when they began to develop the special line of Halachah, the meaning of what had been the more general term was restricted so as to denote all the remainder that was not Halachah. This is, in practice, what Haggadah does mean, namely, interpretation of Scripture in all other directions except that of precept.[16] As a technical term, indeed, the actual word Haggadah may be no earlier than the first, or even the second, century of our era; but that method or process of interpretation which it was used to describe was in practice long before.

Haggadah, then, covers the whole field of scriptural interpretation except so far as it relates to precept; and this is why the contents of the Haggadah are so much more diversified than those of the Halachah. One might truly say that the Haggadah is the Pharisaic comment upon life as a whole in the light of Scripture, the element of duty being reserved for special treatment.

If the Scripture could give even a hint upon any aspect of human nature, upon any phase of human experience, upon any attribute of God, upon any mystery of His providence, then the unfolding of the true meaning of that hint is Haggadah.

It will be clear, from what has been said, that all the subjects usually included under the term doctrinal theology would find their place under the head of Haggadah. Such are the doctrine of God, His existence and attributes; the doctrine of sin and restoration; the doctrine of revelation; the doctrine of "the last things," etc. And it is quite true that whatever the Pharisees taught upon those subjects is found in the Haggadah and not in the Halachah. But there will not be found a consistent system of doctrine upon these or any other subjects; there will not be found a detailed scheme of heads of belief. There will be found the utterances of individual teachers, sometimes diverging widely from the opinions of other teachers upon the same subject. There will be found, not indeed a complete and unrestricted license to any man to say and teach and believe what he liked, but a liberty to differ where each had what seemed to him good warrant for his belief. Uniformity of religious belief was never required by the Pharisees; and the most that was done in that direction was to recognise that there were certain limits beyond which a Jew could not go and still remain within the Jewish communion. Thus, even if he claimed to prove from Scripture that there were other gods than the One, he would cease to be acknowledged as a Jew. Or, if he said that the Torah was not from Heaven, i.e. was not a divine revelation, he would in like manner be regarded as no longer a Jew. But (to put it generally), if he loyally accepted the axioms and postulates of Judaism, then he was free to draw his own conclusions from them in regard to what he believed. The Rabbis never drew up a doctrinal creed; and when Maimonides did so, in the twelfth century of our era, he did what was felt by many to be uncongenial to the spirit of Judaism.

This absence of a system of doctrinal theology is a feature of Pharisaism which is most important for the right understanding of it; and Christian scholars have gone far astray through not being aware of this essential fact. Weber proclaims his error in the very title of his book, A "System" of Ancient Palestinian Synagogue Theology. There is much to be learned from Weber's book, and much that is extremely valuable to those who know how to use it; but, none the less, the whole conception of Pharisaic theology expounded in that book is fundamentally wrong, because Weber calls that a system which never was a system, and never set out to be. Christian doctrinal theology is capable of being presented as a system; and has, in fact, been so represented by almost every denomination of Christians. Weber presumably had such a system on Lutheran lines. He took for granted that there must have been a system on Pharisaic lines; in other words, that the doctrines of Pharisaic belief were developed from fundamental principles with such logic as was admissible, and were consistent with each other. He therefore took the general scheme of his own Christian theology, and set down under its several heads what he could find of Rabbinical doctrine upon each point. He must have been perplexed by the want of agreement amongst his authorities, but he got over that by regarding the more prominent doctrine as the rule, and the other as the exception; the former was a part of the system, the latter was an aberration. Christian scholars are pathetically grateful to Weber for having given them an orderly and methodical arrangement of the medley of Pharisaic doctrine; certainly he has done so; but with as much success and as much truth as if he had described a tropical jungle, believing it to be a nursery-garden. Many people have seen a nursery-garden. Few have seen a jungle. It is easy and natural and highly convenient to identify the unfamiliar with the familiar; but the jungle remains a jungle, when all is said and done.

The meaning of which is this, that the Rabbis adjusted their beliefs to the Torah; they believed whatever they found there, or could deduce from its plain statements and obscure hints, or could shelter under its sanction. It never troubled them that what they found in the Torah was not always mutually consistent. One teacher drew forth this lesson, and another drew forth that, and a third something different. But what then? Only that the Torah contained these various lessons; and why should not they all be learned? For had not God given them all? What he said had many meanings, and was not exhausted by one interpretation.[17] Even if contradictory conclusions were drawn, they were not on that account any the less divine truth. It was said (j. Ber. 3^b), in regard to the controversy between the school of Hillel and the school of Shammai, "The words of each are the words of the living God." And that applies to the whole field of the Haggadah. If the results of interpretation were arrived at by legitimate methods, and declared by competent teachers, then they were received as valid. Not indeed that anyone was required to believe what was stated in them. That was not the intention of the teacher. Haggadah was above all things meant for edification; it presented religion under a great variety of aspects, and by means of an extraordinary wealth of illustrations drawn from the whole field of knowledge and experience. To learn this was good, by reason of the variety; the religious thought of the learner was enriched, his moral nature benefited, and his spirit continually refreshed by the contemplation of the everchanging aspects of divine truth. Uniformity would have made that impossible; to have required it would have been fatal; and to suppose that it was required is to miss the point of Haggadah, which is what Christian scholars usually do.

If a Jew were told by some teacher a piece of Haggadah, he would be impressed by the wisdom or the beauty of the thought contained in it, or perhaps would admire the skill which drew it forth from some obscure hint of Scripture; but he would never say to himself, "I must straightway believe this; if I do not, I shall be in error, and in peril of my soul." He would more likely say, "Blessed art thou, Abraham our father, from whom has sprung such a teacher for Israel." And observe that Haggadah is still Torah. It is an exposition and application of what is implicit in the divine revelation, drawn forth and made articulate. Yet, even so, there is no demand made for the acceptance, as an article of belief, of each Haggadic exposition. The Jew, and notably the Pharisee, knew what faith was, as well as the Christian did; but he did not make it the regulator of his attitude towards that which was taught him as the contents of revelation.