The emotional turmoil that results from what begins as a purely theoretical discussion of halacha makes clear that there is more to the seemingly technical debate between R. Yohanan and Resh Lakish than meets the eye. Indeed, the debate may be said to have two deeper levels of meaning: First, it explores man’s outlook toward the world; and second, it articulates the ethical, spiritual, and moral aspects of tshuva.

The profoundly different worldviews of R. Yohanan and Resh Lakish are reflected in the position each of them takes with respect to the question “When is their manufacturing finished?” To recount: According to R. Yohanan, a metal instrument is considered complete from the moment it is passed through the fire of the blast furnace—that is, after the metal has been purified, but before it has assumed its final form. Resh Lakish’s position (which, it should be noted, is also the customarily accepted opinion in halachic literature) reflects a more realistic approach: It holds that an object is complete only after the craftsman touches it for the last time—in other words, only after the product has been polished.¹⁷

Why does Resh Lakish’s position infuriate R. Yohanan so? It appears that R. Yohanan is frustrated by his friend’s obstinate inclination to focus upon an object’s external aspect instead of on its internal essence. To R. Yohanan, the difference between a sharp blade and dull metal is negligible at best; either way, he believes, the object retains its essential identity as a tool of violence. Resh Lakish’s perspective, by contrast, seems to suit that of a bandit—a man who sees meaning primarily in the surface of things. After all, what self-respecting robber would equate a lump of metal with a sword? His emphasis on appearances reminds R. Yohanan of their first encounter, when he leapt into the river after seeing what appeared to be a beautiful woman. Moreover, his attempt to answer R. Yohanan’s challenge and outsmart him with the response, “Your beauty should be for women,” only further indicated his preoccupation with outward appearances—even at the expense of misinterpreting reality.¹⁸

R. Yohanan, who was wise enough to discern the potential hidden in the bandit, expected that Resh Lakish would, over time, learn to look beyond a thing’s exterior. This is why Resh Lakish’s position in the halachic argument disappoints his teacher tremendously: It indicates that he has not really become a baal tshuva. Even though the former bandit has righted his deviant behavior and left his criminal career behind, his basic outlook remains unchanged. Resh Lakish’s biography, then, recasts the technical halachic discussion as a tense clash of worldviews. In making an implicit analogy between a metal instrument that undergoes various alterations during its production and a man who undertakes the long process of moral and religious transformation, the argument touches directly on the issue of repentance.¹⁹

Conversely, Resh Lakish does not see repentance as a “rebirth” or a return to a former, “purer” state of being. In his view, repentance is a linear process. The person who undergoes a transformation cannot erase his past; rather, he keeps a part of his previous self and makes positive use of it in his new life. Knowledge and habits that once served evil purposes can be channeled into the fulfillment of good ones. While R. Yohanan wishes to preserve only the original human potential—the “raw matter”—of the baal tshuva, Resh Lakish attributes great importance to his biography, even if it is an unsavory one. According to Resh Lakish, just like a metal object, man is perfected through the “polishing” of the sinning self, not through the smelting away of its accumulated impurities.

In truth, the seeds of this dispute can be seen in the initial encounter between Resh Lakish and R. Yohanan: After deciding to repent, Resh Lakish wishes to return to the opposite riverbank in order to retrieve his clothing and, it is implied, his weaponry. R. Yohanan prevents him from doing so, however, forcing him instead to emerge from the river as naked as the day he was born, a “new man.”²⁰ Resh Lakish wants to carry his biography with him, but R. Yohanan forbids it.

The same fundamental disagreement is reflected in another talmudic discussion involving Resh Lakish and R. Yohanan, one that deals explicitly with the issue of repentance:

R. Yohanan bases his understanding of tshuva on a quote from the prophet Jeremiah, who compared the Israelites to a woman who has left her husband (i.e., God) and given herself wantonly to others (i.e., to idolatry). Under Jewish law, if the woman were to return to her husband, he would be forbidden to take her back.²² Nonetheless, God promises to treat Israel benevolently if it repents. Here, too, a clean break with the past is presented as a necessary condition for successful tshuva: Once repented, God will ignore Israel’s past idolatry and recall only “thy favor, the devotion of thy youth, thy love as a bride, when thou didst go after me in the wilderness, in a land that was not sown.”²³ In contrast to R. Yohanan, however, Resh Lakish makes a statement that has become—for good reason—the most concise expression of the Jewish approach to repentance: “Tshuva is great, for it turns one’s vices into virtues.”

 

Indeed, as a rogue in his early life, Resh Lakish had become accustomed to resistance—to society, to law, and to custom. The bandit, after all, is an outsider. He resides beyond the boundaries of society, and from the haven of the wilds he taunts it. He forces society to defend and fortify itself and, in so doing, to progress. In a world without struggle, society stagnates. Although R. Yohanan did not recognize it at the time, Resh Lakish had taught him the value of opposition to the established order. Studying with R. Elazar ben Padat, R. Yohanan feels the onset of intellectual atrophy. His learning cannot advance with a partner who answers his insights and assertions with complacent nodding.²⁴ Only too late does R. Yohanan realize the vital role Resh Lakish had played in his life. For when the bandit entered the beit midrash, he may have abandoned his weapons, but he held on to his skill for wielding them, turning them into an intellectual virtue. Every last one of R. Yohanan’s halachic rulings met with Resh Lakish’s counterattack. As such, the need to defend his opinions sharpened and deepened R. Yohanan’s thought. Now, as he recognizes what was lost, he is stricken with terrible sorrow; unable to bring his scorned friend back to life, he descends into madness and dies.

The tragic tale of R. Yohanan and Resh Lakish, just like the hopeful tale of the prostitute and the yeshiva student, exemplifies a fundamental principle of the Jewish concept of redemption. A person who has repented of his crimes, say the sages, should not deny his past; indeed, he belittles himself by doing so. For one’s sins are not manifestations of true evil, demanding expurgation. Rather, they are distortions that may be righted. Through repentance and self-improvement, the impulses, tendencies, and habits that once served evil ends may become the handmaidens of virtue. The forces of decay may give birth to life. The seeds that sprouted in the shadows may, in the light, come to bear fruit.

Ido Hevroni is a lecturer at the Shalem Center’s student program and a fellow at Bema’aglei Tzedek and Beit Morasha College’s Beit Midrash for Social Justice.

 

1. Victor Hugo, Les Misérables, trans. Charles Lee Fahnestock and Norman Macafee (New York: Signet Classics, 1987), p. 120.

2. Hugo, Les Misérables, p. 279.

3. Yoma 86b.

5. Sifre Numbers, sec. 215. A parallel story appears in Menahot 44a. Many commentators have dealt with this story, each one helping to illuminate its various aspects. See Eliezer Berkovits, “A Jewish Sexual Ethics,” in Crisis and Faith (New York: Sanhedrin, 1976), pp. 48-92; Warren Zev Harvey, “The Pupil, the Harlot, and the Fringe Benefits,” Prooftexts 6 (1986), pp. 259-264; Alon Goshen-Gottstein, “The Tzitzit Commandment, the Prostitute, and the Homiletical Tale,” in Tzvi Groner and Marc Hirshman, eds., Rabbinic Thought: Proceedings of the First Conference on “Mahshevet Hazal” (Haifa: University of Haifa, 1989), pp. 45-58 [Hebrew]; Admiel Kosman, Women’s Tractate: Wisdom, Love, Loyalty, Passion, Beauty, Sex, Sanctity (Jerusalem: Keter, 2005), pp. 141-146 [Hebrew]; Simcha Fishbane, “‘Go and Enjoy Your Acquisition’—The Prostitute in the Babylonian Talmud,” in Jacob Neusner, ed., Approaches to Ancient Judaism (New Series), vol. 13 (Atlanta: Scholars, 1998), pp. 71-90; Ido Hevroni, “The Spiritual Flesh: On Sexuality and Spirituality in the Stories of the Sages,” A Collection of Articles Following the Conference on “Spirituality in the Sages’ World” (Beit Morasha College, forthcoming) [Hebrew].

6. Although the packing of the bedclothes is mentioned explicitly only in the parallel talmudic story, it can be inferred in the Sifre version quoted here, given that by the end of the story, they reappear.

7. Deuteronomy 23:19: “Thou shalt not bring the hire of a prostitute, or the price of a dog, into the house of the Lord thy God for any vow.”

8. Benedicta Ward, Harlots of the Desert: A Study of Repentance in Early Monastic Sources (Oxford: A.R. Mowbray, 1987), pp. 83-84. This study includes other stories of Christian prostitutes and saints. See also Aviad Kleinberg, Brother Ginepro’s Leg of Pork (Tel Aviv: Zmora-Bitan, 2000), pp. 442-463 [Hebrew]. My thanks to Professor Kleinberg, who read the sections of this article that relate to his field and shared his comments with me.

9. Ward, Harlots of the Desert, pp. 76-79.

10. A similar story is told of Maria, another prostitute and the niece of Saint Abraham. Maria divests herself of her property at her savior’s command, not out of her own inclination to do so: “[Maria] said to him: ‘I have this small amount of gold and these clothes, what do you want me to do with them?’ And Abraham said, ‘Leave it all here, Maria, for it came from evil.’” Ward, Harlots of the Desert, p. 99. See also Kleinberg, Brother Ginepro’s Leg of Pork, pp. 449-450.

11. Ward, Harlots of the Desert, p. 84.

12. Tannaitic, i.e., related to the tannaim, the sages from the time of the Mishna.

13. Bava Metzia 84a, MS Hamburg 165. This story has elicited many interpretations. See, for example, Yona Frenkel, Midrash and Agada (Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad, 1981), pp. 74-78 [Hebrew]; Daniel Boyarin, Carnal Israel: Reading Sex in Talmudic Culture (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California, 1995), pp. 221-225; Admiel Kosman, Men’s Tractate (Jerusalem: Keter, 2002), pp. 34-51 [Hebrew]; Ruth Calderon, The Market, the Home, the Heart (Jerusalem: Keter, 2001), pp. 27-40 [Hebrew]; Yehuda Libes, “Eros and Anti-Eros on the Jordan,” in Shahar Arazi, Michal Fachler, Baruch Kahana, eds., Life as a Midrash: Perspectives in Jewish Psychology (Tel Aviv: Miskal, 2004), pp. 157-162 [Hebrew]. Not one of those who dealt with this story, however, investigated the meaning of the halachic disagreement that constitutes the centerpiece of the narrative.

14. As understood from the continuation of the story. Other sources claim his occupation to be that of a gladiator. See, for instance, Gitin 47a.

15. Jeremiah 49:11.

16. Genesis 27:40. For this idea I thank Hanna Braunschvig.

17. The Mishna states the following: “When is a sword susceptible to uncleanness? So soon as it is smoothed. And a knife? So soon as it is whetted.” Mishna Kelim 14:4. Maimonides ruled the same way. See Moses Maimonides, Mishneh Tora: The Code of Maimonides, book 10, trans. Herbert Danby (New Haven: Yale, 1982), Laws of Utensils 8:2, p. 418. Indeed, the refinement of metal in a furnace is perceived as the completion of the utensil itself, but only in the case of ceramic dishes, not in that of metal instruments. See Mishna Kelim 4:4. R. Yohanan is therefore presenting an extreme position, one that contradicts the ruling opinion in such matters. Interestingly, in most cases of a disagreement between Resh Lakish and R. Yohanan, the halacha accepts R. Yohanan’s opinion. This fact strengthens the hypothesis that R. Yohanan’s words in this story bear a symbolic meaning that goes beyond the legal argument under discussion.

It is also worth noting that the ruling of the Mishna seems not to match Resh Lakish’s opinion with respect to “scrubbing,” which, according to the sages, means “polishing,” as the completion of the utensil, as opposed to “smoothing” or “whetting.” See, for instance, Leviticus Rabba 1:14 and Pesikta de Rav Kahana 12:18. This is also the opinion of the Ein Mishpat, which refers to the ruling of Maimonides and notes: “Not as R. Yohanan and not as R. Lakish.” See Ein Mishpat on Bava Metzia 84a. However, in his interpretation of the Mishna, Maimonides explains that the act of “smoothing” that the Mishna refers to is actually a “polishing” and not a scraping of the metal, as is commonly understood nowadays: “From when it is smooth—from when it is spread with oil following the polishing, as it is commonly done to a sword.” Moses Maimonides, Commentary on the Mishna, Kelim 14:4.

My thanks to Dr. Guy Stiebel, who assisted me in understanding the process of reinforcing metal instruments in the historical period under discussion.

18. Ironically, R. Yohanan did use his good looks “for women”—but not in the way Resh Lakish means. As it is said a few lines earlier in the same source, “R. Yohanan used to go and sit at the gates of the mikveh [the Jewish ritual bath]. ‘When the daughters of Israel ascend from the bath,’ said he, ‘let them look upon me, that they may bear sons as beautiful and as learned as I.’ Said the rabbis to him: ‘Do you not fear an evil eye?’ ‘I am of the seed of Joseph,’ he replied, ‘against whom an evil eye is powerless.’” Bava Metzia 84a. This description of R. Yohanan’s strange behavior exemplifies his approach, which seeks out the hidden essence of things irrespective of any physical, perceivable aspect, such as other people’s opinions, cultural perceptions, and even tangible reality. The sages express their doubts about R. Yohanan’s behavior, but he appears to be undaunted by their gossip.

19. A comparison of the process of manufacturing instruments and purifying them to the process of human repentance can be found in the writings of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, specifically Ein Aya, vol. 3 (Jerusalem: The Institute in Memory of Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda Kook, 1995), ch. 1, pp. 47-48 [Hebrew].

20. The explanation according to which Resh Lakish does not return to get his clothes because of R. Yohanan’s objection is based on the version of the story as it appears in MS Hamburg 165. The common interpretation of this tale—which is written in Aramaic—is that Resh Lakish was unable to return to the opposite riverbank because he was exhausted after receiving the “burden of the mitzvot.” This is based on the popular version of this story as it appears in the sixteenth-century Vilna printing of the Talmud, which reads ba’ei lemihadar la’atuyei manei vela matzei hadar. In the MS Hamburg version, it appears as ba’ei lemihadar la’atuyei manei vela amatzieh,” which is easily translated as “he would not allow him,” i.e., Resh Lakish did not return to get his clothes because R. Yohanan refused to give him permission to do so, not because Resh Lakish was too weary. My thanks to Professor Michael Sokoloff, who helped me to verify this reading.

21. Yoma 86b.

22. See Deuteronomy 24:1-4.

23. Jeremiah 2:2. R. Yohanan, incidentally, treats his sister in precisely the same manner: Instead of taking into consideration her present state (she is a wife and a mother), he wishes to erase Resh Lakish from her life and restore their previous relationship, in which she was under his fraternal protection.

24. On the perception of struggle as a necessary part of building the exegetical structure of the Babylonian Talmud, see Jeffrey L. Rubenstein, “The Thematization of Dialects in Bavli Aggada,” Journal of Jewish Studies 54:1 (Spring 2003), pp. 71-84.