Moshe was a perfectly transparent channel of prophetic transmission. All other prophets and sages have some degree of ego density that distorts their perceptions of reality, even if only slightly. For Moshe alone is this not so. The Zohar goes on to explain:
The daughters of Tslafchad did not realize that because “Moshe was the humblest man on all the earth,”[15] unlike the rest of mankind, he would not hold a grudge, and his conflict with Tslafchad would not have affected his legal judgement. (ibid.).
The Zohar, however, does not reproach the daughters of Tslafchad for doubting Moshe on this matter, rather the opposite. It goes on to present their behavior as a model for all generations to follow when a plaintiff fears that a judge lacks impartiality. Moshe, too, understood their concern and accommodated it. The Zohar praises him specifically for this.
Our generation finds itself in a complicated knot. The fact of women seeking more active participation in study and community life raises halakhic questions about the permissibility of their proposed innovations. And just as Moshe balked at the prospect of introducing a change into the system that seemed to have no clear precedent, how much more so is this true, and rightly so, for rabbis today, who have no direct prophetic connection. The difficulty goes deeper still, for the repercussions of women’s strivings are not simply halakhic. They also affect (even if only slightly) the traditional role divisions of men and women in the orthodox Jewish community. For example, the systematic study of Talmud, until very recently was a field of expertise, and consequently a role, only available to men.
The problem is that since these questions carry such deeply personal implications, both for the community as a whole, and each individual within it, all parties are at least theoretically biased. For the plaintiff this bias is self-understood. He approaches the courts requesting a favorable judgement. There is no standard of objectivity required of the plaintiff.
For judges, this matter is more complicated. The general rule is that anyone with personal interests in a case should absent himself from its ruling panel. And so Moshe did exactly that when the daughters of Tslafchad approached with their appeal.
The problem is that for the particular questions discussed here, there is no one who will not be personally affected by their rulings. And, unlike Moshe, we cannot simply turn to G‑d and request a heavenly verdict direct from the Source. There is no option but to acknowledge the problem and minimize it wherever possible.
The Talmud provides a possible solution. It presents a method of halakhic analysis that enables its practitioners to relinquish their preconceptions by entering a place of truly “not knowing” what the correct verdict should be. And then, from that place of not-knowing, they formulate their ruling.
Moshe said to G‑d, “Master of the Universe, tell me the halakhah about…? G‑d answered, “The halakhah is whatever the majority decides. If the majority acquits, so it is; if the majority convicts, so it is.” This is in order that all of the Torah’s possible interpretations of the question be elucidated, i.e. forty-nine that prove the objects purity, forty-nine that prove its impurity…. As it says, “The words of G‑d are pure. Silver refined in a furnace upon the ground, purified sevens of times (i.e., 7 x7 = 49)”[16] (JT Sanhedrin, 21a-b).
Since we have no Sanhedrin or formal court of sages, each rabbi must do this work on his own. The Talmud describes a halakhic master as one who can formulate forty-nine perfectly logical and compelling reasons to permit and forty-nine to forbid.[17] Significantly, it does not present this as an intellectual exercise, but rather as a heart-centered one.
Seek to acquire an understanding heart that hears the words that prove unclean and the words that prove clean, those that prohibit and those that permit, those that disqualify and those that declare fit (BT Hagigah 3b). Maharsha adds:
And then, with your discerning heart, find the ruling that is best suited to serve as practical halakhah.
A person who fulfills the spirit of this advice, even if not to its letter (i.e., not necessarily forty-nine on each side) must reach a point where he truly doesn’t know which path holds G‑d’s truth. It is there, in the place of not-knowing, that bias melts and purification occurs. Until that point, even with a long list of pros and cons, one is still “deciding on one’s own,” which is not what Moshe did. By touching the place of not-knowing there is at least the possibility of “bringing the matter before G‑d” on whatever level we are capable in this generation. And then, from the place of true not-knowing, one selects the most spiritually productive solution for these circumstances and these times. And so the Talmud closes its discussion of this subject with the verse, “the words of G‑d are…purified by [the practice of deciding halakhah through the methodology of generating] sevens [of options on each side], מזוקק שבעתים.”
When are the words of Torah heard as they were intended? When the one who speaks them formulates his ruling after having integrated the opinions of both sides. (Maharsha on BT Hagiga 3a, ח“דה”מ אלו ת).
Not only is the content of their decision conveyed, but even more, the purity of their intention and humility of their process will speak to the hearts of all who hear them (נשמע כתקנן).
