Sanhedrin

1. Sanhedrin 36b-37a
Introduction
The Mishnah envisages a single Sanhedrin in Jerusalem, presided over by the
finest judges and overseeing lesser courts throughout the nation, administering
Torah. Local courts would have three judges, competent to administer non-
capital matters. The courts of 23 judges could handle all matters. The Sanhedrin,
the Great Court, consisted of 71 elders and served as a final court of appeal and
a court of matters of national importance.
This is key: to the extent that a system of this sort was ever fully functional, it was
a distant memory even as early as the time the Mishnah was assembled.
Thinking about why it mattered so much to both the early and the later sages will
be a big part of our study tonight.
We want to get some understanding of the structure, the work, and the
importance of the court, but, at a deeper level, we want to understand other and
perhaps more fundamental underlying levels of concern to the sages. The
amoraim, the sages who contributed over many decades in the development of
the Gemara, wanted to use this piece of Mishnah text to explore and discuss
profound ideas involving justice, ethics, the importance of the mitzvoth, and the
mores and ways by which we as individuals and the community construct and
live our lives as God expects and that are worthy and good.
.

2. For those of you who attended my earlier session, you know that this sort of dive
into the deep end of the pool of the Talmud is essentially what we did in multiple
exercises in other tractates within the order of Nezikin. This is the order, you will
recall, that generally involves damages within the context of what we today
consider civil and criminal law and the judicial process.
There are so many ways into the Talmud, but, as an attorney interested in ethics
and Divine direction, and as one whose education was steeped in political
philosophy and sociology, I love jumping in on these matters. I hope you do, too.
So, though we’re all relatively new to the world of Talmud, let’s use the guidance
we can get from those who are more expert as well as our own curiosity,
excitement, knowledge, intelligence, and experience to get a meaningful and
valuable taste of the Talmud tonight.
Finally, by way of introduction, I want to disclose that my principal teacher in
preparing for teaching tonight, though no longer alive, was the great Jewish
thinker, Emmanuel Levinas. He wrote and gave a brilliant talk on this very piece
of Talmud that appears in his book, Nine Talmudic Readings, and is the
foundation for my study and preparation.

3. A. Mishnah - read the text.
1. Why a semi-circle?
(They all could see each other. Panim al panim. No one sees a back.
Interpersonal relationship was never interrupted. This was so helpful to getting to
just and merciful results, as well as the truth. Open to the world, as if to welcome
testimony as well as being transparent, is seen as crucial to achieving just
results.)
2. Why the two versions of the clerks, the first one and Rabbi Judah’s?
(The first connotes balance and fairness as to the two sides and the two possible
outcomes. It’s people who are recording, thus giving a human touch, as if to
make clear that people are involved in the process of taking down everything,
each side of the case, in the interest of fairness and justice. That two take it all
down gives some assurance that it gets recorded right, akin to the requirement
that there be two witnesses.

4. But the second idea of three clerks, in which two take down each side and the
third takes down both sides, assures that there are “two witnesses,” in that each
side must have confirmation in the record.)
3. What do we make of the presence of students in the court and how they are
and might get further involved?
(There is no complete bifurcation of the learning and the practicing, which makes
the process of serving more seamless and holistic; yet only the best can be
brought forward into actual judging, if needed, and the process of moving forward
is based entirely on merit. This seems to comport entirely with the requirements
of justice. This goes for people from the public, too, who, if absolutely needed,
would come forward on the same basis. This order makes sense in assuring
justice is done, to the best extent possible.)

5. B. Gemara - Here the amoraim want to establish the basis upon which the
tannaim teach the structure and somewhat the operation of the Sanhedrin. Some
of it this is clear from the Mishnah. Perhaps more was sought because there may
have been some Greek influence on the matter. Not so much to hide that, but
rather because the later sages were after more, as Levinas says, “in what spirit
something is borrowed,” they sought to discover and reveal underlying purposes
and meaning of the Mishnah text, perhaps to see a convergence of the spiritual
efforts of, and requirements for, mankind. So, how they do so, how they answer
questions about the origin of text and its practices, and where they go in their
exploration amount to a treasure for us. We are heirs to these rich discussions
and beneficiaries of the meaning we can derive from them.
What appears in the Mishnah as reasonable and wonderful rules of jurisprudence
leading to more justice in the world is important on its own. But wait until you see
where the sages go with it!
We’re in the important arena of law and judicial procedure, but we’ll go on a
journey deeper through justice to ethics and morality and profound
understandings of how we are to live our lives more broadly. This is beautiful, in
and of itself. And, once we complete that journey, we will come full circle back to
the procedures in the Mishnah. Remarkable.
1. Read the first chunk of text in the Gemara. According to Rav Aha bar Hanina
(Palestine, 300 CE), what’s the source text of the Mishnah? The Song of

6. Songs! Before we go to its verses, how do you react to this book of love,
even erotic love, being the source for the Mishnah language?
(The easy answer is that the rabbis generally saw this text as about our
relationship with God, the love between God and the people, Israel. In that way, it
would be natural to see the gift of our understanding the judicial process that
furthers justice as something that would come from that relationship. Yet, at
another level, this is an erotic love story between the actors in the story. It’s also
about love, physical love, and indeed erotic love. What do we think about that
sort of understanding of the book being the basis for rules of operation of the
court?
There’s some satisfaction in there simply being a paradox! Plus it helps open us
up to the mystical possibilities or at least the more metaphorical.
Is there something about this mix of justice, love, and the erotic? Or rather is
there something about acknowledging the passions in life, incorporating them in
healthy ways, and yet mastering passion as part of a balance? Levinas believes
that on the other side of passion is vice, and justice requires we know that and
that we make the commitment and develop the wherewithal to avoid crossing the
line. There must be a harmony between the order of love and absolute spirit. The
order within the Sanhedrin we discussed is related to the order we’re about to
investigate in this book of love.

7. Do we get our first sense even before we get to the text that we’re being taught
something quite important about the foundation upon which a justice system
must be built?)
2. Let’s get into 7:3 of the Song of Songs.
a) What does the navel have to do with our Mishna lesson?
(The basic idea is that the Sanhedrin is the center of the world for us as the navel
is the center of the body. There is a centrality in the justice done in the court and
the Torah upon which that justice is based. Levinas had this lovely idea that the
navel too is the place from which we got sustenance before independent life,
before creation. And the Sanhedrin recalls a sort of heavenly food that we were
given before.
Yet, as lovely as this insight is, and important, other cultures had the notion of
law or justice being the center of their world. Let’s dive deeper to see what
makes this text uniquely Jewish.

8. The Yale Professor of Semitic Languages, Marvin Pope, in his Anchor work on
Song of Songs, finds a way to translate sharirech as vulva, but this is rare, and
we won’t go there now. Maybe we can re-convene off campus for a more x-rated
exploration of this piece of Talmud another day.)
b) the navel…is like a round goblet full of drink. Note, as we read in the text, that
the Hebrew for goblet is aggan. And the Talmudist wants us to associate it with
meggin, to protect. Also, see that the Talmudist wants us to know that the
Hebrew for round is sachar, as in the crescent shape of the moon. Finally, full of
drink or not lacking in liquid seems to relate to the point in the Mishnah that there
must be enough potential judges in the room to assure that there would be a full
complement to judge.
So, what does this fragment of the verse mean - a goblet that is round and full of
drink, as those words have been defined?
(The goblet is made as is the Sanhedrin so that both the goblet and the court are
like a “semi-circle.” It protects. As Levinas teaches, the court protects the
universe. He goes further to the idea that the Sanhedrin is symbolic of Judaism
more broadly, in that both carry justice as full drink, and play a universal service,
as a “deaconry in service of the totality of being.”

9. Full of drink may also mean the order that gives possibility to justice and/or is that
the fruit of justice is contained in the structure of both the goblet and the
Sanhedrin.
Or full of drink may mean the proper duty of all who work within the court will be
fulfilled, that it is full in that the public responsibility is assured to be fulfilled.
c) Your belly is like a heap of wheat; everyone profits from wheat. Let’s discuss
this for a moment before I ask you a question. First, on a lighter note, it’s clear
this was written before science uncovered the perils of gluten and the wisdom of
a paleo diet! More seriously, we get the tie-in that people find worthy the reasons
for decisions in the Sanhedrin. So, what is being said here?
(One gets a full and satisfying “meal” from the Sanhedrin. There’s a nutritious
and satisfying basis for the decisions - presumably in fairness, reason, and
orderly process, and just results are the satisfaction therefrom.)

10. d) Though the separation is only a hedge of roses, they will make no breach in it.
This is complicated. Think first: what comes to mind when you think of a hedge,
and then one of roses? And why would we be thinking here about the separation
the hedge provides and the desirability of not breaching it? In other words, what
is the hedge here? Who do we want not to breach the hedge? And why is it
important that it not be breached? Ideas?
(We have the idea that the mitzvoth create a hedge that keeps our actions on the
right path, between life and death, between good and evil. So, hedging is a
traditional idea. What is intended here, do you think?
The hedge seems intended first for the court, the judges. Perhaps it’s a standard
for their behavior, their decision-making, their approach to reaching verdicts in
the court. Maybe it’s not to cross over into allowing personal interest to affect a
neutral or non-biased judgment.
Maybe it’s to going into error or wrong in deciding. Maybe this discussion is
beginning to speak more broadly to us, and not just to judges for reasons we’ll
explore in a minute. We must avoid breaching the hedge into erring or doing
wrong or acting unfairly.

11. But so why is this discussed as a hedge of roses? They’re certainly tempting to
get near, to touch, to smell. Isn’t that suggestive of hedges in real life? If we had
no hedge, the space between doing right and doing wrong is too precariously
close. It’s interesting to see language that gives us a hedge that is real and can
work but has the lure of roses and is hardly impenetrable. But isn’t that close to
reality? If hedges were tall walls of steel and concrete, there would be no issue of
a breach. Yet, that’s not the way it is in real life, is it?
Though roses draw us close through their appeal, the hedge of bushes (and their
thorns?) can keep us on “this side,” if…. The sage is saying the judge is picked,
is constructed such, conducts life in such a manner, or should (must) that a
hedge of roses is quite sufficient. Meaning?
Justice depends on our picking judges in whom this confidence is justified and
from whom this hedge is assured. So, it seems this speaks not only to the judge
but also to all of us who have some say in the operation of the community that
picks the judges and, in some ways, holds them accountable. Indeed it may
speak more broadly to us as human beings who should have this capacity and
discipline in the conduct of our own lives. It is important that the hedge is
tempting, seductive, inviting because we must be vigilant; it is here where must
see and act by a hedge.
In a way, Levinas teaches that we here see a different image of what we often
think of as the yoke of the law or at least the expectations of the covenant as a
hedge of roses. That’s a different and pretty cool image to put in our heads!, no?

12. 3. A “min” rises to object. By tradition, the Min might be a Sadducee. It is one
who generally opposes rabbinic exegesis, one who would rise up to “muck up the
works” of this talmudic process. So, the way it’s done here is for the objector to
come forward and challenge the hedge idea. He does it by reminding everyone
that men and women who are not permitted relations cannot by law be alone,
that a husband and wife are not permitted to have relations during her period, yet
the law permits them to be alone. Surely, there would be a potential fire here, he
seems to suggest, by asking if there’s fire in flax, won’t it burn?
a) What does Rav Kahana say, and what does it mean?
(Scripture makes clear that the hedge of roses is there to, and must, prevent the
breach. It seems that Rav Kahana ducks the challenge on exegesis and says the
scripture, which is good to the Min, is the basis here, too. And, he also carries the
discussion from truth just about the court to truth about human relations, that we
must and can conduct ourselves with the needed care by minding the hedge of
roses. Indeed our doing so may be a needed foundation for how we live, how we
get and hold good judges accountable, and that justice requires that we live by
the hedge everywhere, including in the court.)
b) Resh Lakish answers with another reference to Song of Songs (4:3), “your
brow is like a pomegranate.” Or since rakkathek is close to rekanin, it could be
your good-for-nothings are like a pomegranate. What is a pomegranate in this
context? What would this mean under either translation?

13. (It’s a rich fruit that connotes vitality and life. Its seeds are abundant and
representative of life. Again, as was the case with roses, it has an alluring, if
sexual connotation. This fascinates, to be sure.
But, of course, the rabbis go further, to the symbolic of what supports life for us,
giving us life. The mitzvoth! The Torah! Our brow (or even the good-for-nothings
in our midst) is/are as full of the capacity to do good, to live out good deeds, as a
pomegranate is full of seeds.
We see other references in the Tanach. In Isaiah 1:18, we see in a discussion of
the High Priest’s prayer on Yom Kippur to the king who was “full of precepts like
the pomegranate,” and was there with others “who were righteous and in whom
there was no evil.”
Midrash Rabbah applies this verse to the Song of the Sea when Moses extols
Israel, saying, “Your temples are like a split pomegranate,” as if to say all, even
the emptiest among you, are full of pious deeds as a pomegranate with seeds.

14. Isn’t all of this the hope, the needed basis for a community where the Sanhedrin
is constructed right? Those who are hedged have the brow of a pomegranate,
that is, they bear the fruit of life, the mitzvoth, which enable them to do good and
live right (with righteousness, kindness, and justice). It is this character and life
that undergirds a just court and a just community. And this way of life must be
fresh and ongoing. It is not inherited or assumed or automatic.)
Indeed, if one goes with the other Hebrew word, what meaning do we make of
this being so for good-for-nothings?
(Can it can turn them in the right direction, too? Is it a counter in them causing
the possibility and hope for teshuvah? It’s stronger than the bad, but within those
who can be bad, as if to say that it’s everywhere to pull us above the natural
plane.)
And why would we be interested in this in a discussion of the Sanhedrin?
(We would want to think that it could prevent such people from getting into
trouble that brings them to court, right? We’d like to think it would, thus, “limit the
business” before the court. And we might hope that it would mean that something
like this would be at work to correct someone who had been adjudicated.)

15. Levinas: “What Judaism brings to the world is not the easy generosity of the
heart, or new and immense metaphysical visions, but a mode of existence
guided by the practice of the mitzvoth.”)
c) 1. Rav Zera says the explanation comes from Genesis 27:27, where Isaac
says his son’s clothes smell of the field watered by the Lord. But then the text
wants us to look at the possibility that rebels (bogedav) is intended, not clothes
(begadav).
OK, let’s dig into this. Can someone recall the Bible story that is raised here?
(Remember Zera is addressing the Min.) What are the possible meanings?

16. (Was the smell of paradise due to Jacob’s coming into the room, as some
commentators say, not the clothes? That though there would be rebels from his
seed, Jacob still smelled of good? Indeed is it possible that even in Jacob’s
deception there was good? Or an ultimate sense of his hoped-for reconciliation of
Jacob and Esau? Was that the smell of Paradise?
Or is there in Jacob’s standing in Esau’s clothes or in the stead of all the rebels
to come a sense of taking on responsibility for all. This is Levinas’ view. That
Israel will be responsible.
Maybe more to the point is the response to the Min here. Even with the reality of
the temptation, the fire in the flax, Isaac senses the capacity, the commitment,
the future of Israel, through God, to avoid the fire. This is indeed the purpose of
the Sanhedrin, relying upon the mitzvoth and properly constructed justice,
exercised by judges within the context of a moral community, governed by the
mitzvoth. This, I think, is what Isaac sees.)
2. This seems confirmed by the discussion that follows about Zera. What do we
learn in it that bears on our lesson?

17. (Zera’s influence on “rebels” or good-for-nothings in his own neighborhood. He
never gave up on them. He saw them as part of the community. He kept
encouraging the good upon them. And his legacy seems to be they remembered,
felt a duty, and changed for the better. There is hope for virtually all, and that
hope can play out for the best, if we work at it and in the right way. This
continues and emphasizes the lesson we learned a moment ago. Isn’t this what
we want from the Sanhedrin, from our community, something that keeps the
potential for fire in the flax to keep from burning, so to speak?
The story goes deeper than we can go today in the various explanations for how
Zera, the little man with the burned thighs, got those burned thighs. It seems
possible from the talmudic stories about him that either through his own and/or
others’ selfishness, bad judgment, etc. he might have been afflicted by flame. So,
though burned, he lived to help keep others from the flame. Isn’t that so true, for
us, our community, and our courts, in how we live forward, at our best?)
4. Our study concludes with a return to the direct subject of the Mishnah - which
is often the case in Talmud - full circle, lovely.
What does this conclusion mean?

18. (The process matters. Students prepare. We take our place in the line of duty
and responsibility. Our being ready and skilled is essential for when our time is
called. This is true for a judge, a citizen, a person. Being first in a secondary line
often means as here, moving up to last in the line up front. But what’s essential is
that we’re organized in a way that serves God’s hope for our community, our
makom. This is the deeper meaning behind the Mishnah’s discussion of the
organization of the Sanhedrin!