8 - A Bad Man Theory of Religious Law (Numbers 15:30–31 and Its Afterlife)

Summary

Abstract: This article explores early Jewish conceptions of the “bad man” as reflected in the hermeneutic legacy of one seminal biblical passage (Num 15:30-31) in order to discern the most egregious forms of religious wrongs. This offers a prism for gauging whether early iterations of “Judaism” were so fully aligned with law and praxis that this constituted the entirety of religious life and its ultimate measure. Or, alternatively, whether one can already perceive in classical Jewish discourse an acknowledgement, or even an articulation, of a “religious” or “theological” nucleus apart from the normative order.

I Introduction

In a recent survey of modern Jewish thought, Leora Batnitzky homes in on its central tension: Does Judaism – a tradition suffused with rules and rituals – constitute a religion?¹ If this term is understood to emphasize the centrality of faith and creed, it seems inapposite to the hyper-normativity of Judaism. But discarding this label would call Judaism’s legitimacy into question, at least from the vantage point of many who contemplated this matter at the dawn of modernity. Much of the creativity in the conceptions of Judaism that were formulated by leading Jewish thinkers from the eighteenth century onward emanated from grappling with this seminal challenge.²

The origins of this tension are usually traced to the sweeping transformations introduced by Jewish emancipation, including the consequential encounters of Jewish thinkers with Christian (especially, Protestant) theology.³ Prior to the eighteenth century, on the conventional account, Judaism was widely conceived of as a “religion of laws.“ But this characterization glosses over variations within a tradition that evolved over many centuries.⁴ Thus, substantial scholarship has explored the critical dialectic between “law” and “spirituality” in medieval Jewish thought.⁵ Even in classical writings, one can discern a subtle and suggestive discourse surrounding these themes.

The latter needs to be underscored in light of contrary claims currently being advanced in the field of religious studies. Decrying the anachronism of applying the concept of “religion” to premodern works, scholars have urged us to “imagine no religion” in conjuring up the world of antiquity and late antiquity. In this vein, a recently published book under this title argues that various terms that appear in classical writings are mistranslated as “religion” and “theology.”⁶ But the absence of analogous terminology in older works is hardly dispositive. While the mature constructs of modern theology may be only of late vintage, substantial “religious” impulses or emphases relating to beliefs,⁷ attitudes, or values beyond the system of norms are arguably embedded in much historic material.⁸ Only a careful excavation of early literature can reveal their imprints.

The chapter below turns back many centuries before the period covered by Batnitzky’s survey in order to further interrogate various conceptions of “Judaism” that are reflected in formative writings from antiquity and late antiquity. It seeks to illuminate whether earlier iterations of “Judaism” were so fully aligned with law and praxis that they constituted the entirety of religious life and its ultimate achievement. Or, alternatively, whether one can already perceive in earlier traditional discourse an acknowledgment, or even an articulation, of a “religious” or “theological” nucleus apart from the normative order.⁹

Instead of an elusive attempt to reconstruct the core of “Judaism” (which has been ventured by others with debatable degrees of success),¹⁰ one can gain precious insight about its essence by concentrating on its measure of sacrilege or heresy.¹¹ What a tradition considers to be utterly contrary to its core reveals much about its foundations. This chapter therefore concentrates on conceptions of the “bad man” in early Jewish discourse to learn about where it draws its most fundamental lines.¹² In a concentrated form, this is vividly captured by the hermeneutic legacy of one seminal biblical passage.

A A Biblical Source and Its Afterlife

The conception of Judaism as a “religion of laws” derives in the first instance from the paramount role of norms in the Torah.¹³ A plethora of commandments – including civil, criminal, cultic, and ritual prescripts – fill this corpus. Moreover, divine revelation at Sinai consists entirely of mandatory canons. In stipulating the observance of these laws, God enters into a binding covenant with Israel. By pledging its steadfast commitment to upholding these commandments, Israel in turn becomes a “priestly kingdom and holy nation” (Exodus 19:6). Legal obeisance is thus necessitated not for social or political reasons, but as a sacred imperative.¹⁴ It is for this reason that when the term “Torah” is translated into Greek it is rendered as “nomos.” The central theology of the Torah revolves around its laws.¹⁵

Numerous scholars have articulated this vital feature of the Torah, perhaps none more cogently than Moshe Greenberg.¹⁶ Contrasting the nature of biblical law with earlier cuneiform codes of the Ancient Near East, Greenberg highlights the religious character of the former as its distinguishing essence. His description (which focuses particularly on biblical criminal law) culminates with the striking implications of this phenomenon:

In the biblical theory the idea of the transcendence of the law receives a more thoroughgoing expression … .There is a distinctively religious tone here, fundamentally different in quality from the political benefits guaranteed in the cuneiform law collections. In the sphere of the criminal law, the effect of this divine authorship of all law is to make crimes sins, a violation of the will of God.¹⁷

Formulated more generally, according to the Torah, violating any law is tantamount to sinning against God.

Adducing support for this proposition, Greenberg singles out one Pentateuchal source, Numbers 15:30–31.¹⁸ To appreciate how this source functions as a proof text requires further background. As will soon become evident, Greenberg, if anything, is understating the dramatic implications of these verses.

The middle section of Numbers 15 (verses 22–31) records a pericope (the “Numbers pericope”) relating to different modes of violating an unspecified transgression, which is comprised of two parts. Part one (15:22–29) addresses the sacrificial atonement for an inadvertent transgression of a community or an individual,¹⁹ while part two (15:30–31) describes the fatal punishment for an individual transgression that is committed “with a raised hand” (Hebrew “beyad ramah”). Due to the juxtaposition of the two parts, the latter phrase has been interpreted by most scholars, including Greenberg, to refer to a transgression that is committed intentionally²⁰ (a dissenting viewpoint interprets it as a publicly defiant act, which seems to be the meaning of “beyad ramah” elsewhere in the Bible).²¹ The contrast between the two parts of the pericope on this (majority) reading is plain. Whereas an inadvertent transgression can be atoned for by (a specific regimen of) sacrifices, an intentional transgression cannot, and is instead punished harshly.

What is the nature of the transgression discussed in this pericope (in either part)? The verses invoke the generic formulation of the transgression of the “commandments.”²² This implies that the second part of the pericope refers to an intentional violation of any prohibition.²³

In light of this, the second part’s description of the gravity of a single violation and its ensuing punishment is startling (far exceeding Greenberg’s measured formulation that a violation constitutes a sin). Here are the verses in full:

³⁰But whoever acts intentionally (beyad ramah), whether a native or an alien, blasphemes (megadef) the Lord, and shall be cut off (venikhrata) from among the people. ³¹Because of having despised the word of the Lord (devar Hashem bazah) and breached his commandment (mitsvato hefer), such a person shall be utterly cut off (hikaret tikaret) and bear the guilt (avonah bah).

A person who intentionally violates the law – any law – blasphemes God, the ultimate form (or act) of sacrilege. By transgressing God’s word, he or she despises it; and by failing to uphold a commandment, he or she annuls it. An act of such gravity saddles its perpetrator with guilt. Echoing an ominous refrain, Scripture declares a ruthless punishment of excision for the transgressor (variants of the term karet appear three times in these verses).²⁴ More than a sin (Greenberg’s characterization), a violation of a norm according to these verses constitutes a shattering transgression which evokes a devastating response. The pericope emphatically projects legal obeisance as the measure of religious devotion.²⁵

In an important analysis of this pericope, Aryeh Toeg likewise draws attention to the extraordinary rhetoric it employs when describing the consequences of a single transgression (i.e., blaspheming God, etc.). In order to account for this charged language, Toeg posits that these verses are formulated with a “prophetic vocabulary” that conveys the experiential dimension – rather than the normative implications – of sin.²⁶ By appealing to an alternate genre to explain these verses, Toeg rightly magnifies their religious intensity. But their semantic cannot be stripped of its normative content which is integral to their meaning.²⁷ Rather, the brunt of these verses emanates from the way they yoke religion and theology to legal obeisance. Only by conceiving of religion as primarily filtered through law, can such radical verses about the consequences of a transgression be comprehended.²⁸

Given the potency of these verses, the question of their legacy becomes critical. These verses confront all subsequent readers and interpreters, who must determine whether they can assimilate, or abide by, their plain, and radical, implications about the theological weight of law. Alternatively, if they reinterpret these verses (by rendering “beyad ramah” and its other loaded phrases in a different manner) to refer to something other than an intentional violation of law as the root of religious blasphemy this will inevitably lead to a revised construction of the theological sphere. The exegesis of these verses thus serves as a prism for subsequent interpreters to negotiate the foundational relationship between religion and law.

Notwithstanding the singular tone and content of the Numbers pericope, it takes on much significance in early postbiblical exegesis.²⁹ Below I will examine two sets of exegetical traditions which (for the most part) advance profoundly different approaches toward these consequential verses. A dominant trope in Qumran literature, where these verses have a surprisingly pervasive afterlife, builds upon their plain sense in constructing a religious world view structured around the normative order. In contrast, rabbinic literature largely pivots in another direction, articulating novel forms of religious heresy that are increasingly differentiated from the sphere of law. While both traditions contain counter voices and overlap to a certain extent, their overall divergent emphases are unmistakable. These diverse traditions advance alternate paradigms of law and religion.

II Qumran Literature

The distinct formulations and verses of Numbers 15:30–31 figure prominently in the Qumran corpus, especially in a couple of passages I will analyze below. In fact, Elisha Qimron notes that the Scrolls routinely employ the Scriptural term “beyad ramah” as a standard label for an intentional transgression (alongside other terms for an inadvertent one, such as “shogeg”), instead of the common biblical and rabbinic term, “mezid.”³⁰ This usage reflects that the Numbers pericope is often understood at face value in this corpus (i.e., following the majority reading).

If the term “beyad ramah” signifies an intentional violation, however, it should not be construed merely as a technical term. As Aryeh Amihay has argued, this phrase evidently retains a loaded biblical resonance in Qumran.³¹ While Amihay bases this term’s fuller semantic upon several biblical passages (such as Exodus 14:8, Numbers 33:3, etc.), most of the Qumran references that invoke this term appeal specifically to Numbers 15:30 (as recently stressed by B. Reynolds).³² As noted, in the Numbers pericope the term means any intentional transgression; and violating any such transgression, according to the pericope, constitutes a blasphemy against God. By repeatedly citing this term, then, Qumran authors are presumably evoking this meaning, and making its strong nexus between law and religion a centerpiece of their ideology (a secondary set of Qumran texts discussed below function differently).³³ In certain Qumran texts this ideology is in fact especially pronounced. Building upon the Numbers pericope, they project normative perfection as essential to the religious identity of the sect, and therefore consider transgressions to be particularly damaging to the religious fabric of the community.³⁴

A vivid instance of the latter is found in the opening passage of the foundational rules of the Community (the “rules of volunteering”) in 1QS 5.³⁵ Explicitly invoking the term “beyad ramah” toward the end, the passage throughout expands on its themes. After delineating the formative covenant of the sectarian community, which revolves around punctilious observance of the laws of Moses as explicated by the priestly sons of Zadok, the passage draws a stark contrast between its members and the wicked sinners. A new initiate to the community must openly pledge his allegiance:

He should swear by the covenant to be segregated from all the men of injustice who walk along the path of wickedness.

(1QS 5:10–11)

The Scroll’s account of the latter is particularly significant:

For they are not included in his covenant since they have neither sought nor examined His decrees in order to know the hidden matters (nistarot) in which they err by their own fault and because they intentionally violated (beyad ramah) revealed matters (niglot).

(1QS 5:11–12)

Invoking the terminology of the Numbers pericope, the passage extends its scope to encompass a collective rather than an individual, and to repeat violations rather than a single transgression. Further, it conflates the two parts of the pericope in characterizing the “men of injustice.” Negligently violating hidden, that is, unrevealed, prohibitions (corresponding to the inadvertent transgression of Numbers 15:22–29)³⁶ as well as intentionally violating revealed ones (corresponding to the intentional transgression of 15:30–31), the ignoble sinners are those who continually transgress the law. They are fated to a ravaging punishment, an intensification of the damning fate of Numbers 15:

this is why wrath will rise up for judgment in order to effect revenge by the curses of the covenant, in order to administer fierce punishments for everlasting annihilation (kalah) without there being any remnant. Blank

(1QS 5:12–13).³⁷

Expanding upon the Numbers pericope in these various ways, the passage magnifies the stakes of legal obeisance.

Another remarkable passage with a similar ideological thrust appears later in (certain recensions of) 1QS. Establishing a penal scheme for a sectarian member who violates a single transgression, it relies explicitly on the Numbers pericope. In its bold implementation of the biblical template, it likewise revises certain of its salient features.

The passage opens by underscoring the meticulous normative standards demanded from members of the sect (referred to here as the “council of holiness”):³⁸

Blank These are the regulations by which the men of perfect holiness shall conduct themselves, one with another. All who enter the council of holiness of those walking in perfect behavior as he commanded.

(1QS 8:20–21)

What happens when a member violates these binding rules depends on the mode of the offense. Initially, the passage relates to an intentional violation (“beyad ramah”), based on Numbers 15:30–31:

anyone of them who breaks a word of the law of Moses intentionally (beyad ramah) or fraudulently (remiyah) will be banished from the Community council and shall not return again … .

(1QS 8:21–23).

Next, the passage relates to an inadvertent transgression based on the earlier verses of the Numbers pericope (Numbers 15:22–29):

However if he acted inadvertently (bi-shegaga) he should be excluded from pure food and from the council and they shall apply the (following) regulation to him: ≪He may not judge anyone and [he may] not [be a]sked any advice for two whole years≫ … if he has not sinned again through oversight until two full years have passed. Blank.

(1QS 8:24–27)

This passage shares the orientation of the 1QS 5 passage, but each is more exacting in certain respects. Both underscore that transgressions violate the core religious identity of the sectarian community. The 1QS 8:20–27 passage further states that a single intentional violation leads to banishment from the Sectarian community.³⁹ In other words, it affirms the plain sense of Numbers 15:30–31 in all its severity.⁴⁰ The passage diverges (at least in focus), however, from the 1QS 5 excerpt in terms of who responds to the intentional transgressor. Whereas 1QS 5 describes the intensified punishment of divine annihilation (kalah)⁴¹ for transgressors, according to 1QS 8 the penal agent is the communal council who administers a punishment of expulsion. Indeed, in this sense 1QS 8 departs from the Numbers pericope, as well. According to the Numbers pericope, an intentional transgressor who sins against God receives a heavenly punishment of excision (repeated threefold in the verses), and an inadvertent one atones by bringing a sin offering. In 1QS 8 these are translated into communal punishments to be meted out by the council, the former by expulsion and the latter by way of a temporary ban.⁴²

In order to illuminate the crux of 1QS 8, Aharon Shemesh attempts to reconstruct its theological underpinnings by linking it to other sections of the Rule of the Community and the Damascus Covenant.⁴³ For instance, he argues that an intentional transgressor is expelled by the council because his actions expose him as a “son of darkness,” as described in 1QS 3 (or, perhaps more explicitly as a “wicked person,” as described in 1QS 5). This also implies that following his ejection by the council, the transgressor will be vanquished by God.⁴⁴ Similarly, Shemesh explains the temporary expulsion of an inadvertent transgressor as based upon a larger theology of exile in the Scrolls.⁴⁵ As intriguing as these cross references are, they gloss over the locus of this passage, which is brought into sharper relief by its juxtaposition with 1QS 5. Instead of a heavenly damning of sinners, here the theological drama all plays out within the normative structure of the community. The religious constitution of the community is preserved by normative perfection; the spiritual state of an individual member turns on his legal obeisance; and his theological destiny is determined by the council’s penal pronouncement. Religion is filtered through law, and law alone.

Several passages in the Qumran corpus offer variants of this paradigm.⁴⁶ In the proximate 1QS 8:15–17 passage, for instance, an intentional transgressor (“beyad ramah”) is punished with (temporary) exile (not a permanent expulsion). According to CD 10:3, such a figure is only disqualified from delivering testimony. In other words, he remains nominally within the sectarian community, but is pushed to its margins in terms of his legal and social status.⁴⁷ Both of these sources likewise operate within a religious worldview that is highly legalistic (i.e., where an intentional transgression elicits a legal response, and the boundaries of the religious community are maintained by legal sanction), but calibrate the penal and social consequences in a different, and more lenient, manner. All three texts (CD 10, 1QS 8:15–17 and 20–27) echo the Numbers pericope in treating an intentional transgression as a decisive breach of the community’s religious ethos of legal perfection.

Certain scholars attribute the severe Qumran punishment of an intentional transgressor recorded in 1QS 8:20–27 to the reality of sectarian life where maintaining social conformity was feasible.⁴⁸ While this context may make such an arrangement attractive or at least possible, it is hardly inevitable. When considered alongside the various passages surveyed above, 1QS 8 emerges as one response among several alternatives.⁴⁹

Other Qumran writings (such as 1QS 6–7, 4Q266, frag. II, 4Q270, frag. 7i, 15–19), in fact, diverge from this paradigm and do not define the religious fabric of the sectarian community in normative terms. Operating with a dual construct similar to 1QS 8:20–27 (and arguably based upon its Scriptural foundation, the Numbers pericope), these texts crucially differ in terms of what triggers a harsher response. Instead of invoking the phrase “beyad ramah,” they introduce terms like “moes,” to despise, or “libgod,” to rebel, to characterize the underlying wrong.⁵⁰ In other words, the grounds for expulsion from the community is a brazen rejection of God and the religious values of the community.⁵¹ The foundational sin is thus not committing a legal violation, but repudiating the community’s principal commitments. Prefiguring certain aspects of rabbinic literature, this strand reflects a secondary voice in the Qumran corpus.⁵²

The dominant strand in Qumran writings, however, advances a religious order bounded within a normative frame. Here, the Numbers pericope openly serves as a foundational text, and “beyad ramah” (in its plain sense) functions as a pivotal term.⁵³ Further, a couple of passages expand upon this legalistic foundation in ways that exceed Scripture. 1QS 5 envisions a bloc of transgressors, a foil to the community, who will suffer divine castigation; and 1QS 8 circumscribes a covenantal community whose religious ethos is defined by law, and whose boundaries are controlled by law. By accentuating, augmenting, and implementing the striking paradigm of the Numbers pericope, this strand epitomizes a conception of Judaism as a religion of laws.

III Rabbinic Literature

The primary rabbinic source that elaborates on the Numbers pericope – a range of homilies in the Sifre spread over two sections (111–12) – contains certain traces of the legalistic sectarian position.⁵⁴ In its opening paragraph (111), the Sifre records the well-known view of the rabbis which interprets the Numbers pericope as referring specifically to the transgression of idolatry (more on this shortly),⁵⁵ but first the midrash considers (and subsequently rejects) another option (Sifre 111, ed. Kahana, lines 1–5):

“But if you unintentionally fail to observe all these commandments (Numbers 15:22)”⁵⁶: … Scripture here speaks of idolatry. You say idolatry, but perhaps (it speaks of his transgressing) all of the commandments of the Torah …

(emphasis mine).⁵⁷

And similarly in the continuation of the midrash (ibid., lines 5–7):

“And it shall be, if by the eyes of the congregation it were done in error (Numbers 15:24)” – Scripture hereby singles out one mitzvah. And which is that? (the injunction against) idolatry. You say it is idolatry, but perhaps it is (any) one of all the mitzvoth stated in the Torah …

(emphasis mine).

In other words, the midrash registers the plain sense of Scripture (presumably following the majority reading).⁵⁸ In fact, certain rabbinic traditions arguably interpret (the latter part of) the Numbers pericope in this manner. Thus, Sifre 112 (ed. Kahana, line 50) records an exegetical gloss attributed to R. Akiva on Numbers 15:31,⁵⁹ “a soul—who sins intentionally (mezidah).”⁶⁰ Likewise, the teaching of R. Hanania b. Gamliel in tractate Makkot (3:15) that “one could lose their life for committing just one sin” may echo this position.⁶¹

Most rabbinic constructions of the Numbers pericope, however, eschew the literal interpretation for a variety of reasons, and do not identify a single violation of any prohibition as the root of the religious rupture which is depicted in its verses. A central question raised by these alternative hermeneutics is whether they signal a different conception of religion. On the literal understanding of the Numbers pericope (i.e., the majority approach), the essence of religion is comprised of legal obeisance; and therefore violating the law severs one’s relationship with God and the religious community. Do these other rabbinic readings operate with a similar template, or present a different kind of religious order that is not solely structured around norms?

The most familiar rabbinic interpretation of the Numbers pericope – advanced in lieu of the plain meaning in the paragraph above – limits its subject matter to the prohibition of idolatry.⁶² The following paragraph addresses the opening part of the pericope:

“But if you unintentionally fail to observe all these commandments (mitzvoth) (Numbers 15:22)”: … Scripture here speaks of idolatry. …

(Sifre 111, ed. Kahana, lines 1–5)

Similarly, a subsequent paragraph (Sifre 112, ed. Kahana, lines 59–61) interprets the latter part as involving an intentional violation of idolatry.⁶³

At first blush, narrowing the Numbers pericope in this manner still assumes a religious order that is defined by norms, but only deems an intentional violation of a severe prohibition to have the dire consequences described in the pericope’s latter part. This is the implication of a related Sifre teaching that groups idolatry with other legal prohibitions of a similar scale (i.e., prohibitions which are punishable by karet).⁶⁴ It is also possible that idolatry is singled out as a cardinal prohibition which is in a category of its own, or emblematic of all the commandments.⁶⁵ The first paragraph concludes in this vein (Sifre 111, ed. Kahana, lines 5–10):

It is, therefore, written “And if you err and do not do all of these commandments (Numbers 15:22)”: This comes to define the one commandment. Just as one who transgresses all of the commandments divests himself of the yoke (poreq ol), and breaks the covenant (mefer berit), and reveals the Torah (megaleh panim ba-Torah), so, he who transgresses one commandment (idolatry) does the same, as it is written, “to destroy His covenant (turning to the worship of other gods …) (Deuteronomy 17:2–3).” And the covenant is nothing other than Torah, as it is written, “These are the words of the covenant, etc. (Deuteronomy 28:69).”

But this justification raises another possible explanation for why the Sifre distinguishes this particular sin. Idolatry is not just a cardinal prohibition, but a flagrant betrayal of God. Arguably, this is the underlying thrust of the above passage (committing idolatry divests oneself of the yoke, etc.).⁶⁶ The fundamental theological affront of idolatry is likewise underscored in a neighboring passage in the Sifre that employs a somewhat cryptic metaphor to capture its audacity.⁶⁷

These alternate explanations reflect two different ways of conceptualizing the prohibition of idolatry:⁶⁸ a normative perspective, where idolatry is classified as a “first-degree” offense; and a theological perspective, where idolatry epitomizes the ultimate religious betrayal.⁶⁹ Notably the other two specific prohibitions that surface in rabbinic constructions of the Numbers pericope – committing blasphemy against God⁷⁰ and rejecting the rite of circumcision⁷¹ – share a similar duality. These are cardinal commandments, where the violation and heresy are interwoven.

A A Novel Series of Rabbinic Interpretations of the Numbers Pericope

The rabbinic interpretations of the Numbers pericope examined so far are thus arguably grounded in a traditional normative discourse.⁷² In other passages, however, the Sifre betrays a decidedly different tone.⁷³ When unmoored by the midrash from its plain sense, the pericope is open hermeneutically, with each verse, and even each clause, potentially pregnant with distinct meanings.⁷⁴ A string of rabbinic traditions fill this interpretive void in striking ways.⁷⁵

Beyond their notable number and range, these traditions diverge-- to varying degrees-- from the interpretation of “beyad ramah” as an intentional transgression.⁷⁶ Rather than limiting the pericope to a particular prohibition, and assimilating it into a familiar halakhic discourse where religiosity is measured by legal obeisance, they posit novel dimensions or forms of irreligiosity.⁷⁷ Ultimately, the Sifre here transitions into an altogether different discourse of sin and punishment.⁷⁸ Wittingly or not, the rabbis here articulate elements of a religious worldview that is not bound within the normative order.

Here are the relevant excerpts from the Sifre on Numbers 15:30–1 (Sifre 112, ed. Kahana, lines 37–57):⁷⁹

1. (1) “But whoever acts intentionally (beyad ramah) (Numbers 15:30)” – This is one who reveals the Torah (megaleh panim ba-Torah), like Menasheh ben Hezkiah.

2. (2) “[he] blasphemes the Lord (Numbers 15:30)” – This is one who sits and renders a ridiculous homily in front (alt. to the face) of the Lord (Ha-Maqom), saying (for example): “He should not have written in the Torah ‘And Reuven went [in the days of the wheat harvest …] (Genesis 30:14)’” … .⁸⁰

3. (3) “Because of having despised the word of the Lord (Numbers 15:31)” – This is a Sadducee. “and breached his commandment (Numbers 15:31)” – This is a heretic (apiqoros).

4. (4) Another interpretation: “Because of having despised the word of the Lord (Numbers 15:31)” – This is one who reveals the Torah (megaleh panim ba-Torah). “and breached his commandment (Numbers 15:31)” – This is one who breaks the covenant (mefer berit) of the flesh (circumcision). From here R. Elazar Hamodai said: One who desecrates the offerings, cheapens the festivals, breaks the covenant (mefer berit) (of circumcision) of our father Abraham or reveals the Torah (megaleh panim ba-Torah) – even if he has performed many commandments, it were best to thrust him from the world.

5. (5) If he says: “The entire Torah I accept, except for this one matter” – [This is] “Because of having despised the word of the Lord (Numbers 15:31).” “The entire Torah he (Moses) said from the mouth of the Holy One but this thing he said on his own” – [This is] “Because of having despised the word of the Lord (Numbers 15:31)”. …⁸¹

The Sifre’s range of interpretations covers uncharted terrain that lies beyond the familiar normative landscape. According to many scholars, Paragraph (1) refers to the violation of a prohibition in a brazen or defiant manner,⁸² which arguably expresses, if you will, a mens rea of heresy or insurrection;⁸³ Paragraph (2) and certain parts of Paragraph (4) involve various disdainful attitudes; Paragraph (3) refers to a heretical or sinful persona, rather than a prohibited act or mode of conduct;⁸⁴ and other parts of Paragraph (4) and Paragraph (5) describe a rejection of the covenant, Scripture or law. In sum, the sins depicted in these sections of the Sifre are attitudinal, ideational, or theological.

One can sort this catalog of sins (alongside others referenced in proximate passages in the Sifre) across a spectrum that ranges from standard norms to increasingly novel ones, with a waning link to formal praxis.⁸⁵ Beginning with an intentional violation of a single or all commandment(s) (which the Sifre at least registers), the Sifre refers to: a violation of an arch commandment; (arguably) a violation of an arch commandment that is expressive of a rejection of a core theological principle (God’s supremacy or the covenant); a violation of a single commandment in a defiant manner (arguably expressing a mens rea of heresy or insurrection); a rejection of the (normative) authority of Scripture or the law; a disdainful attitude toward religious institutions (such as holidays or sacred objects); a rejection of a core theological principle (e.g., resurrection); a heretical or sinful persona (that transcends any particular transgression, attitude, or idea);⁸⁶ and (arguably) a betrayal or blasphemy of God. A conventional normative framework is expanded to encompass increasingly original sins of a theological nature.

At times, the shift in discourse evident in the Sifre is more subtle, but also revealing. Consider in this vein a notable difference in emphasis among a couple of the paragraphs cited above. Paragraph (5) describes a challenge to the authority of the Torah and its precepts – either by rejecting the Torah’s integrity or by limiting the scope of its divine origins. The sacrilege is not measured by a violation of law per se, as much as by undermining the stature of the Torah or the legal traditions. Still, the heresy in question implicates the supreme standing of biblical law.

A seemingly related interpretation (2), however, discards these normative trappings. Here the rabbis likewise describe an impugning of Scripture, but the critique is expressed as scornful mockery.⁸⁷ Moreover, this interpretation – which construes the Scriptural words, “[he] blasphemes the Lord (Numbers 15:30)” – depicts the jeering homilist confronting Scripture’s Author, “sit[ting] and render[ing] a ridiculous homily in front (alt. to the face) of the Lord …. ” Moving beyond the status of Scripture and the law, the heretical challenge targets God, as it were. Note that on its terms, the homilist-blasphemer is not denying the divinity of the Torah, but challenging God’s immaculate wisdom that is manifest in it. The crux of the verbal assault is personal.

B The Triad As Reflecting a Shift in Rabbinic Discourse

A more dramatic shift in the rabbinic discourse surrounding the Numbers pericope can be discerned when one focuses on the literary record of three phrases that appear in the Sifre and elsewhere in rabbinic literature: “megaleh panim ba-Torah,” “mefer berit,” and “poreq ol.”⁸⁸ In Paragraph (1), the Sifre invokes the phrase “megaleh panim ba-Torah;” and in the opening part of Paragraph (4), the commentary on one lemma refers to it as well, while the commentary on the next lemma refers to “mefer berit.” As discrete phrases, they presumably designate distinct prohibitions.⁸⁹ However, in an earlier passage in Sifre 111 (cited below), these two phrases, preceded by “poreq ol,” form a litany of three offenses. This same triad is recorded in several places in rabbinic literature. Beyond individuated offenses, they seem to comprise a single category (either they share a common denominator, or are conflated into a single wrong).⁹⁰ The very formulation of a triad may reflect a revised conceptualization of grave sin.

What is the nature of this triad, and how is it (or are they) violated? A partial response can be gleaned from the hermeneutic elaboration recorded in Sifre 111 (ed. Kahana, line 8):

… one who transgresses all of the mitzvoth divests oneself of the yoke (poreq ol), and breaks the covenant (mefer berit), and reveals the Torah (megaleh panim ba-Torah) …

(emphasis mine).

As represented in this passage, the triad is not a label for a sin(s), but the derivative consequence(s) of a cumulative transgression. One who violates all the commandments⁹¹ causes the drastic fallout that is captured by this threefold formulation. The triad is thus associated with established norms.⁹²

What is fascinating is that elsewhere (in tannaitic literature) the nature of the triad (or a couple of its elements) differs. In three tannaitic sources – Mishnah Avot, Baraita Shavuot, and Tosefta Sanhedrin – the triad is projected as a stand-alone sin (or sins), which is unrelated to other violations. Moreover, each of these tannaitic sources accents different characteristics of the triad that diverge from conventional norms.

Thus, the Mishnah in Avot (as it is paraphrased in the latter part of Paragraph (4) of the Sifre) includes two of the triad’s elements on a list of egregious modes of conduct or postures that can hardly be designated as standard violations. This is further implied by the conclusion which states (in the Sifre’s rendition) that if any item on the list was infringed, “even if he has performed many commandments, he deserves to be thrust from the world.”⁹³ The enumerated items differ from conventional prohibitions, and their gravity exceeds the ordinary normative metric.⁹⁴

A baraita recorded in the Talmud underscores another essential characteristic of the sui generis triad:⁹⁵

Rabbi Judah the Prince says: For all transgressions that are stated in the Torah, whether one repented, or whether one did not repent, Yom Kippur atones, except for one who divests oneself of the yoke (poreq ol), and reveals the Torah (megaleh panim ba-Torah), and breaks the covenant (mefer berit). For these, if one repented, Yom Kippur atones, and if not, Yom Kippur does not atone.

Unique among all sins in terms of atonement,⁹⁶ the triad is openly contrasted with standard halakhic violations. Only the triad demands a more intensive atonement procedure in which repentance is indispensable (a requirement which arguably derives from the rabbinic interpretation of the final clause of Numbers 15:31, “and bear the guilt (avona bah)”).⁹⁷ In other words, the baraita classifies the triad as a more weighty category of sin(s).⁹⁸ To the extent that the triad consists of foundational, theological sins or heresies that are based on the sinner’s interior attitude or state, the necessity of repentance seems particularly apt.⁹⁹

Finally, a third tannaitic source, a Tosefta Sanhedrin passage linked to m. Sanh. 10:1 (knows as the opening Mishnah of Pereq Heleq), betrays other essential characteristics of the triad.¹⁰⁰ The Mishnah records a list of beliefs that preclude a person from a share in the “world to come (olam haba),”¹⁰¹ including a person who denies resurrection (from the Torah),¹⁰² rejects the notion of “Torah from Heaven,” and an apiqoros.¹⁰³ T. Sanh. 12:9 adds the triad (as well as one who pronounces the divine name)¹⁰⁴ to this list.

The placement of the triad alongside these other wrongs implies that they all share a similar quality. All are arguably theological or creedal sins.¹⁰⁵ What elsewhere is conceived of as a triad involving normative violations is now associated with heresies.

A crucial signal of the theological nature of the Tosefta’s discourse here is the striking punishment it declares for breaching the triad – a forfeiture of a share in the world to come. Notice how this diverges from the standard penology of rabbinic literature. Ranging from lashes to capital punishment (and encompassing karet and mitah beyedei shamayim),¹⁰⁶ the standard penology is imminent and corporeal. In contrast, the forfeiture described in the Tosefta is deferred and (perhaps also) noncorporeal.¹⁰⁷ Or to formulate it differently, it is a heavenly punishment that fits a theological sin.¹⁰⁸

The roots of this transfiguration can be traced back to a different passage in the Sifre. Recall how the Numbers pericope records variants of the term karet three times in delineating the punishment for sinning “beyad ramah.” Certain rabbinic hermeneutics interpret these verses to be referring to a standard form of karet. For instance, the rabbinic tradition that identifies the pericope’s transgression as idolatry must understand the verses in this manner (since karet is clearly specified as the punishment for idolatry alongside numerous other prohibitions enumerated on a seemingly exhaustive rabbinic list).¹⁰⁹ But other traditions in the Sifre examined above that construe the pericope as referring to novel forms of sinning cannot brook this interpretation¹¹⁰ (since these sins are not included on this rabbinic list).¹¹¹ Moreover, these are not the kinds of sins that warrant standard punishments, which are only meted out for prohibited actions. As the conception of the pericope’s underlying sin evolves in the Sifre, the punishment must as well. This seems to be the implication of R. Akiva’s teaching in Sifre 112 (ed. Kahana, lines 62):

“shall be utterly cut off (hikaret tikaret) (Numbers 15:31)”: “cut off (hikaret)” – in this world; “utterly cut off (tikaret)” – in the world to come (olam haba). These are the words of R. Akiva …¹¹²

Upon introducing the world to come, the rabbinic discourse surrounding the Numbers pericope withdraws from the standard penology of the halakhah and enters into a new realm.¹¹³ What justifies this shift is in part the extraordinary rhetoric of the verses, including its ringing (and anomalous) repetitions of karet. An intensification of karet, according to this homily, signals a qualitative transformation. At another level, the shift is a function of nascent definitions of “beyad ramah” and the other key terms of the pericope in the Sifre.¹¹⁴ As the religious rupture of the Numbers pericope defies a formal-normative discourse (which is also reflected in the revised conception of the triad that is recorded in the three tannaitic sources), a corresponding theological punishment must be formulated (or appealed to) by the Rabbis.¹¹⁵ While the former discourse dominates rabbinic literature,¹¹⁶ the latter – which is reserved for the most solemn religious sins or sinners – emerges in the rabbinic unpacking of this pericope.¹¹⁷ These discursive traditions of the Sifre contribute to the formation of rabbinic theology, including its doctrines of penitence and the world to come.¹¹⁸

IV Conclusion

The Numbers Pericope encapsulates in a few verses a seminal dimension of biblical religion. Employing exceptional rhetoric, Scripture describes a sinner’s frontal assault on the divine realm which leads to a catastrophic fallout. What precisely is the sin? The plain sense of Scripture according to most commentators is that a person intentionally violated any biblical prohibition. A breach of norms amounts to divine blasphemy.

When one examines the early reception history of this pericope in Qumran literature these themes are mostly intensified, even as a secondary voice is also registered. The Scrolls regularly invoke the terminology of the pericope to refer to any intentional violation, and central passages in the Rule of the Community use it as a template for delimiting the normative boundaries of the sectarian community. In one passage, the apparatus of law is further deployed to ensure legal obeisance, which is vital for the community’s socio-religious integrity. Law structures the community’s core religious identity.

Yet in a later exegetical phase recorded in rabbinic literature a marked metamorphosis transpires.¹¹⁹ Despite certain traces of the plain sense of the Numbers pericope, rabbinic hermeneutics largely reject the notion that its subject matter is a standard prohibition. The striking rhetoric of the pericope is instead reinterpreted by the rabbis through a series of transformative teachings. Despite the dominance of halakhah in the spiritual worldview of the rabbis, these homilies expose an essential religiosity that eclipses the universe of norms. Likewise, notwithstanding the usual focus of the rabbis on concrete actions with this-worldly consequences, here the rabbis explore a spiritual sphere and anticipate the world to come.¹²⁰ New theological frontiers, hinted at in the verses, receive preliminary formulations in the suggestive exegesis of the rabbis.

What began as a paradigm of religion structured through law in the Bible, and served as a foundational text in the Qumran corpus for the sectarian legal-religious imaginary, becomes a platform for the rabbis to adumbrate a theological world beyond the strict contours of law. In subsequent chapters, this novel hermeneutic becomes the basis for crucial expansions. Thus, the theological tropes that rabbinic traditions identified within the Numbers pericope and began to unpack, have a rich and varied afterlife in the Medieval period.¹²¹ By the early modern period referred to at the outset, Judaism receives robust articulations as a religion that move well beyond the pericope.

Nevertheless, a striking echo of the pericope’s motifs can be discerned in an important passage written by Moses Mendelssohn, the figure who, according to Batnitzky, “invented” the (early modern) idea of Jewish religion.¹²² Expounding on the interplay between law and religion in the Bible in his landmark work Jerusalem, Mendelssohn offers a characterization that recalls (or, more precisely anticipates) the synopsis of Moshe Greenberg (who adduces the pericope as “Exhibit A”) cited above:¹²³

… in this nation, civil matters acquired a sacred and religious aspect, and every civil service was at the same time a true service of God … the public taxes were an offering to God; and everything down to the least police measure was part of the divine service.¹²⁴

A proximate passage notably formulates the converse dynamic as well:

… Every sacrilege against the authority of God, as the lawgiver of the nation, was a crime against the Majesty, and therefore a crime of state. Whoever blasphemed God committed lese majesty …¹²⁵

In other words, law and religion are deeply intertwined in the Bible.

More significant than the overlapping characterization of Greenberg and Mendelssohn, however, is its contrasting implications for each thinker. Greenberg’s account, as elaborated upon above, suggests a convergence between these realms, as religion operates within a normative framework. But Mendelssohn marshals it to advance a more capacious conception of the religion of Judaism. By the early modern period the religious orientation is evidently too pervasive to be otherwise confined. On the contrary, the ceremonial laws, for Mendelssohn, are consonant with, and also constitutive of, religion writ large (as the term would be understood by his Protestant interlocutors).¹²⁶

Supplementing a universal category of rational faith, Judaism contains historical truths and ceremonial rules. These latter precepts,¹²⁷ which must be embraced voluntarily, are fulfilled with one’s body, as well as one’s heart, mind, and soul. They serve as a living script, rousing a practitioner, and inspiring his or her contemplation of metaphysical and moral ideals. Transitory in nature, these ceremonial laws foster an authentic religious experience, and evade the fetishism of idolatry. Alongside their praxis, their subjective and communal meaning is continually interpreted and revised. A more elastic form of law thus affords a more expansive religiosity.

For some other early modern thinkers following in Mendelssohn’s wake (e.g., Abraham Geiger and Hermann Cohen), the ceremonial norms are mostly relinquished, and faith, reason, and ethics flourish in their place.¹²⁸ Whether through a framework of norms, or without one, conceptions of Judaism as a religion have continued to evolve ever since. From a tradition dominated by laws in much of its formative strata, “Judaism” has thus gradually developed rich discourses of theology, which are grafted onto, situated alongside, or advanced in lieu of the normative order. Indeed, in certain modern iterations, Judaism does not just make room for theology, but is even stunningly recast as the quintessential religion.