Akiva vs. Ishmael
“Again, you have heard that the ancients were told, ‘You shall not make false vows, but shall fulfill your vows to the Lord.’ Matthew 5:33 NASB
Make false vows – The rabbis never had to deal with exegetical issues in the book of Matthew. They may have never read Matthew’s gospel. But we do, and so we are stuck with the problem of hapax legomena, that is, words in the text that appear only once. Of course, there are plenty of examples in the Tanakh as well, so the issue isn’t unique to New Testament scholarship. But that fact that there are many examples of words that are used only one time in all the Scriptures raises interesting problems for translators—and for you and me.
In this verse, the hapax legomenon is epiokeseis. A footnote in the NASB tells you that it might mean “make a false vow” or “break a vow,” but since the word appears only one time in the Scriptures, it’s really hard to tell. You decide, but once you decide, you will have to wrestle with a much bigger issue, that is, what do you do with all the one-off words in the Bible.
The rabbis did struggle with this issue, in Hebrew, of course. Heschel examines two different approaches to the problem; approaches which set the stage for all exegetical efforts; approaches which, whether you know it or not, affect the way you read the text. One comes from Rabbi Akiva, the other from Rabbi Ishmael.
“Rabbi Akiva believed that every detail and every stylistic form has a deep significance and a hidden intent. To Rabbi Akiva, textual teachings were given in order to be expanded upon. One who interprets via the surface meaning alone is like a poor man looking for gleanings. To Rabbi Ismael, textual teachings were given in order to be understood and to establish traditions, not to be expanded upon.”[1]
“[Rabbi Ishmael said] the text was given for a specific purpose—to communicate instruction to human beings. It is not beckoning to us to discover layers of existing meaning that are not already visible. However, the text does invite us, as does any straightforward set of instructions, to deduce new directives and truths for it, by the use of logic and reason. But that is construction, not discovery; and this summarizes the Ishmaelian view.”[2]
It’s typical of academics to treat the text of the Bible as they would any other ancient literature. You find this approach in many commentaries. It seems stale when compared to the emotional devotionals of popular Christian writers. But there is a risk in pushing academics aside. The risk is that your paradigm, bent on finding great spiritual secrets, will actually ignore what’s happening in the historical circumstances that created the text. Many Messianic believers, foster children of Christian evangelicalism, tend to move in the direction of Akiva and read the Bible as if it buried eternal truths disguised in ordinary parlance. We must be wary. On the other hand, “A culture’s language is the only sure way, if a way exists at all, into that culture’s heart and mind. And reading Torah min Hashamayim is intended to be not so much a cognitive experience as an empathic one.”[3]
Therefore, Tucker writes:
“We are not to read this material as a textual historian would, analyzing the factual accuracy of the attributions or statements in the classical texts to the historical Akiva or Ishmael or their disciples. Rather, we are to read as theologians, as those who have accepted the invitation to explore the phenomenology of a scripturally based religion, where text has become oracle, and to consider the explanatory power of the dichotomy that Heschel offers us. Akiva and Ishmael are avot ha-olam, in the sense of ‘eternal paradigms,’ and the choices they represent have vast ramifications when we come to the many subjects that make up any comprehensive theology.”[4]
And Heschel concludes:
“When Rabbi Akiva found difficult or strange language in the Torah, his ears would widen, for in his view strangeness in the text was a gateway to the discovery of the Torah’s secrets. Rabbi Ishmael’s goal was the integrity of the text. The Torah speaks in human language. If there is difficult or strange language in the Torah, then it is a mistake to take it at face value. . . Rabbi Ismael would teach that raz [Hebrew: ‘secret meaning’] is an anagram for zar [Hebrew: ‘bizarre’], for the text should be interpreted according to its plain meaning. But Akiva would teach that peshat [Hebrew: ‘plain meaning’] is an anagram for tippesh [Hebrew: ‘foolish’], for the truth cannot be grasped with nothing but the tongs of plain reason.”[5]
Now you will have to think about your objective when you study the Scriptures. Hapax legomena are only the tip of the iceberg. Under that dark, cold water are a whole host of exegetical issues that are only apparent after the side of your spiritual ship scrapes the ice. But now you know. What are you going to do about it?
Topical Index: exegesis, hapax legomena, epiokeseis, make a vow, Matthew 5:33
[1] Abraham Heschel, Heavenly Torah as Refracted through the Generations, p. 39.
[2] Gordon Tucker, in Abraham Heschel, Heavenly Torah as Refracted through the Generations (ed. and trans. by Gordon Tucker, Continuum International Publishing Group, New York, 2007), p. 39, fn. 138.
[3] Gordon Tucker, in Abraham Heschel, Heavenly Torah as Refracted through the Generations (ed. and trans. by Gordon Tucker, Continuum International Publishing Group, New York, 2007), p. 47.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Abraham Heschel, Heavenly Torah as Refracted through the Generations, p. 41.
