Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra: A Life Filled with Paradox

Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra was born around 4892 (1132 CE) to his father Rabbi Meir, in Tudela, Spain. The Jewish community flourished in those days, and included distinguished figures such as Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi and others. However, from a material perspective, the situation of the Jews was complex: on the one hand, Jews held high positions in the royal courts and took an active part in commerce and city culture, but on the other hand, they occasionally suffered from outbursts of hatred from the non-Jews. In 4898 (1138 CE), Rabbi Avraham began wandering throughout the world: North Africa, Tunisia, Egypt, the Holy Land, and more. Later, he returned to Europe, and in Italy he composed his commentary on the Torah, which was completed in 4915 (1155 CE). He resided for a time in Provence, where he studied and taught, and even held discussions with Rabbeinu Tam—both in writing and face-to-face. Afterwards, he stayed in London for three years, where he composed his book 'Yesod Mora.' At the age of 75, he fell ill and applied to himself the verse: "And Avram was seventy-five years old when he left Haran": At seventy-five years old, the tzaddik departed from the wrath of the world [Haran], and passed away on the first day of the first Adar. The place and year of his passing are unknown.

Ibn Ezra's commentary gained special affection among many great Jewish scholars. The Lubavitcher Rebbe, for example, relates that in past generations, when they wanted to test a child's intellectual sharpness, they would have him study a verse with Ibn Ezra’s commentary—while concealing from him later commentaries written to elucidate Ibn Ezra’s own commentary—and observe how he understood the passage. The Rebbe also writes, in the name of the Sha'arei Teshuvah from the Mittler Rebbe, that Ibn Ezra lived a life of great personal sacrifice, doing it all for the sanctification of God's name.

Due to the fondness for Ibn Ezra's commentary, there are many stories in which tzaddikim derived precise meanings from his words. Here are two of them, reflecting both the commentary itself and the Chasidic perspective through which the tzaddikim viewed it:

• The Rebbe of Strikov once said that the Ibn Ezra's words can put a stop to the current practice of consulting doctors during illness and the fact that even many tzaddikim and great rebbes would use the services of a doctor. The Ramban wrote: "What place do doctors have in the house of those who do God's will?" It seems from his words that God-fearing people should not consult doctors at all, and what is said about permission being given to a doctor to heal is permission for the doctor. But the sick person need not strive to see a doctor, and prayer is preferable.

The seeming discrepancy between what the Ramban wrote and the Talmud’s explanation that doctors have been given permission from on High to heal, can be resolved in another way, based on what Ibn Ezra wrote on the verse "and he shall surely heal": "Permission was given to doctors to heal wounds that are visible externally, but any illness that is internal in the body is in God's hands to heal, and so it is written 'He wounds and binds up' etc." In other words, Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra distinguishes between external wounds, which the doctor sees with his eyes and for which it is said that permission was given to heal, and internal illness, which the doctor cannot see. For those, it is better to pray and not to rely on doctors. The Rebbe of Strikov said that based on this, it is possible to say that nowadays, when doctors have the ability to see even internal illnesses through X-rays and the like, instances such as these also fall under the category of "permission given to the doctor."

Once, when Rabbi Yisrael of Husiatyn was at a health resort waiting to drink the healing waters, a modern Jew approached him and asked about why they call him "Wunder Rabbiner" [Wonder Rabbi, a term used in Germany for a miracle worker].

Rebbe Yisrael replied, “There is a Stadt Rabbiner (City Rabbi), who has authority and control over his city. There is a Kreis Rabbiner (District Rabbi), who controls an entire region. Then there is a Landes Rabbiner (Country Rabbi) who exercises dominion over an entire country. But a Wunder Rabbiner—this is a rabbi who can control himself....”

He proceeded to support his explanation with the commentary of the Ibn Ezra on the verse “When a man sets himself apart by vowing to be a Nazirite vow.” To “set oneself apart” (יַפְ לִ יא) also means to be “wondrous.” The verse is thus speaking of an act of segregating oneself from one’s surroundings and at the same time being truly wondrous. How so? Everyone follows their cravings and desires. Thus, the individual who separates himself in holiness from the desires and excesses of this world is worthy of being called a “man of wonder.”

The uniqueness of Ibn Ezra, in many respects, is his grasp of two opposite extremes: on the one hand, he holds by common sense, straightforward interpretation, and expert knowledge of nature and human affairs. On the other hand, he demonstrates a truly steadfast faith in the Creator and in the traditions passed down by the sages, which he wonderfully advocates for against the Karaites [Jews who dismissed the sages] who were prevalent in his time. For this reason, they tested children's intellect specifically with his commentary, to sharpen the mind with fear of Heaven. Thus, Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra merited to manifest his own explanation of what it means to be wondrous by being "set apart." He himself was able to sustain the paradox of being in a state of "submission (itkafya) that leads to transformation (ithapcha).” Even though he coerced himself to overcome his nature, seemingly a merely external and behavioristic shift, he merited an internal and complete transformation into a "man of wonder" who has no desires.

Rabbi Avraham also wonderfully blended the contradictory emotions of love and fear. On the one hand, it is said that he gave his life for the sanctification of God's name, meaning he merited to serve God with a strong soul movement of "And you shall love... with all your soul." And, on the other hand, Rabbi Bunim of Peshischa said of him, "I don't know how one can live in the world even for five minutes while experiencing the fear of Heaven that the Ibn Ezra had."

The distinction he made between internal and external wounds, which clarifies the increasing tendency to consult doctors, also leads us to a paradoxical state of understanding. On the one hand, doctors were not meant to be consulted for any internal disease, and yet on the other hand, science has figured out how to turn the body inside-out, allowing the doctor to transform the interior into the exterior. By framing his understanding of the license given to physicians as pertaining only to the body’s exterior, Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra presaged that in our messianic era, God wants even the miracles that occur inside the body, the healing that He in fact performs, to seem as if it is affected by entirely natural means. In our generation, God prefers that even miracles seem to be clothed in a cloak of natural remedies.

This paradoxical state of medicine must be accompanied by a paradoxical approach in our minds. Indeed, we should place our trust in God alone. Yet, we seek help from doctors, and at the same time we do not believe that they are the ones affecting the cure. On the contrary: when we trust in God with active faith and rely on Him to give us strength to act, we understand that everything is from God alone—even our own actions and their positive results. When we are required to do something in a natural way, we should remember this and awaken the merit of Ibn Ezra, through whose merit God will give us the strength to act in the world.