Tanna Devei Eliyahu: The divine, legal determination

What was the initial trigger for an unprecedented hassidic commentary on an aggadic work?

THE PROPHET Elijah, as depicted in this 17th-century icon in the Hermitage’s Winter Palace, St. Petersburg (photo credit: Wikimedia Commons)
THE PROPHET Elijah, as depicted in this 17th-century icon in the Hermitage’s Winter Palace, St. Petersburg
(photo credit: Wikimedia Commons)
Tanna Devei Eliyahu is unlike other nonlegal rabbinic works: As its name suggests, it is attributed to the biblical prophet Elijah.
The work is an eclectic collection of midrashim that does not follow the order of any particular book in the Bible.
The narrative of the source of this work can be found in the Babylonian Talmud: Elijah would regularly visit Rav Anan and study with him. On one occasion, Elijah objected to a ruling of Rav Anan that led to an inadvertent miscarriage of justice. Elijah, therefore, ceased these mystical rendezvous. Rav Anan fasted and prayed until Elijah returned. Alas, the relationship was not as before: Rav Anan was awestruck and frightened by his study partner. Rav Anan’s solution was to construct a box where he would sit while they studied.
Rav Anan’s notes from these study sessions with Elijah were divided into two sections: teachings inside the box and teachings outside the box. The resulting work was comprised, therefore, of two distinct parts. The Talmud identifies this work as Tanna Devei Eliyahu, made up of the longer Seder Eliyahu Raba and the shorter Seder Eliyahu Zuta (Ketubot 106a).
This foundational narrative linking the work to Rav Anan would suggest that Tanna Devei Eliyahu dates to third-century Babylonia. At the very least, the work predates the redaction of the Babylonian Talmud in the second half of the fifth century. Yet the text before us includes passages that are dated to the 10th century. Thus – like many other works of Aggada that have reached us – Tanna Devei Eliyahu has numerous historical layers.
Tanna Devei Eliyahu was first published in Venice in 1597-1598, yet a further distinct aspect of this work is the manner in which the 1676 Prague edition was produced by Rabbi Shmuel Haida (d. 1685). Since the text was corrupt, Rabbi Shmuel Haida fasted and prayed until Elijah appeared to him in a dream and directed him as to how to produce an accurate Tanna Devei Eliyahu text. Thus the production of the 1676 edition reenacted an aspect of the work’s foundational story.
BESIDES ITS mystical origins and inimitable reproduction, Tanna Devei Eliyahu stands out for a third reason: It is the only work of rabbinic Aggada to be published with a commentary from the hassidic school.
 
The hassidic commentary does not necessarily set out to explain the passages of Tanna Devei Eliyahu; rather, it associatively offers hassidic teachings and ideas that are linked – often tenuously – to the base text.
 
Tanna Devei Eliyahu with its hassidic companion was first published in Warsaw in 1881 and titled Ramatayim Tzofim – the biblical hometown of the prophet Samuel (I Samuel 1:1) and an allusion to the name of the author, Rabbi Shmuel of Sieniawa (1785-1873).
After serving in Sieniawa, Rabbi Shmuel continued to serve in the rabbinate in other places in Poland: Włodowa, Brok, Siedlce, Łowicz, and Nasielsk.
In addition to hassidic teachings, Ramatayim Tzofim includes invaluable personal recollections of the author. The work contains many teachings from Rabbi Shmuel’s teacher, Rabbi Simha Bunim of Przysucha (d. 1827), whom he first visited in 1803-1804. Even after Rabbi Shmuel took up rabbinic positions, he continued to visit his master in Przysucha.
What was the initial trigger for an unprecedented hassidic commentary on an aggadic work? For Rabbi Simha Bunim, Tanna Devei Eliyahu was key to the curriculum of study (Ramatayim Tzofim on Eliyahu Raba, ch. 1, sec. 34). When Rabbi Simha Bunim lost his eyesight in his old age, Rabbi Shmuel of Sieniawa would read Tanna Devei Eliyahu before his blind master. These study sessions led to a unique hassidic work fashioned around a work of aggada.
THE WORK includes a fascinating passage that relates to the interface between Jewish law and mysticism (Ramatayim Tzofim on Eliyahu Zuta, ch. 16, sec. 17). Rabbi Shmuel of Sieniawa recounted a halahhic ruling of Rabbi Yaakov Yitzhak Halevi Horowitz (1745-1815) – popularly known as the Seer of Lublin.
A married woman had spent private time together with a man other than her husband, raising suspicion of infidelity. The case came before the Seer of Lublin for a determination as to whether Jewish law permitted the husband and suspect wife to continue living together.
The Seer ruled that the husband and wife need not separate. Despite the wife having been in an inappropriate situation, we do not assume she had been unfaithful; hence, there was no divorce requirement.
 
This determination followed the ruling of Rabbi Yosef Karo (1488-1575) in his code of Jewish law: Without formal advance notification of suspicion by the husband, spending time alone with another man does not automatically lead us to assume that a married woman had an adulterous affair (Shulhan Aruch, EH 178:6).
The permissive ruling of the Seer was questioned. Rabbeinu Nissim – a 14th-century Spanish authority – had suggested that person who cares about his soul should be extra careful and not rely on such a license. Rather, the soul-sensitive husband should assume the worst-case scenario and separate from his wife (Ran, Nedarim 91b). Raising this medieval source as a challenge to the Seer’s ruling assumed that a person from the hassidic milieu who asked the Seer such a question was the type of person who cares deeply about his spiritual well-being. Alternatively, the Seer’s own spiritual insight should have influenced his ruling. Thus the Seer should have advised the couple to separate.
The Seer stood his ground and reiterated: According to the letter of the law, the husband and wife are allowed to continue living together. Only those who are scrupulous about the well-being of the soul need to separate. In such soul matters, I am allowed to rely on my own ru’ah hakodesh, communication by divine holy spirit, and I see – explained the Seer of Lublin – that the married woman was not adulterous.
 
The Seer added an important postscript: Had the prohibition been rooted in the letter of the law, employing ru’ah hakodesh when determining the law would not have been permitted. 
The writer is on the faculty of Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies and is a rabbi in Tzur Hadassah.