Around 2,300 years ago,the Greek-Egyptian emperor Ptolemy ordered the Jewish sages to render the Torah into Greek on two separate occasions. The first time, he had five scholars carry out the translation together. The second time, he assembled 72 scholars, isolated them in separate rooms, and had them prepare their own simultaneous Greek translations. On the 8th of Tevet, all 72 scholars produced identical versions having made the same 13 changes, where they judged that the literal rendition would result in a significant distortion to the intended meaning.

An ancient rabbinic source, Masechet Sofrim, provides an account of the first translation:

It happened once that five sages wrote the Torah in Greek for King Ptolemy. That day was as terrible for the People of Israel as the day that the Golden Calf was made, because the Torah was unable to be translated adequately.1

Upon reading this passage, it seems that the rabbis were extremely hostile to the idea ofIt seems the rabbis were extermely hostile to the idea translating the Torah – or at least translating it into Greek. It appears that they were concerned the translation would not do justice to the text’s intent, going so far as to compare it to one of the greatest religious abominations in Jewish history. In fact, this tragic event is marked on the fast of 10 Tevet. Sounds like some very unhappy rabbis!

This, however, is astonishing. Translating the Torah into other languages was nothing new! Before the Jews entered the Land of Israel, Moses explained the Torah to them in 70 languages.2 3

Moses similarly instructed the Israelites to “write onto stone all the words of this Torah, explained well,”4 after they would cross over the Jordan river into the Promised Land. Here, too, the rabbis understand this as an instruction to translate the Torah into the 70 languages.5

So why did it arouse such consternation when it was translated into Greek a thousand years later? And why were the sages concerned that “the Torah was unable to be translated adequately,” when it had already been done successfully?

Especially baffling is the issue with the Greek translation, since the Talmudic sages had already singled out Greek – the language in question – for being particularly well suited to a non-Hebrew rendition of the Bible!6 7 So why the negativity towards the Ptolemaic translation?

What is most difficult to comprehend is why the rabbis would compare an apparently inadequate translation to an event as notorious and disastrous as the making of Golden Calf. Is this not a wild exaggeration?

In his iconicIs this not a wild exaggeration? fashion, the Rebbe hones in on the fine details and offers a brilliant explanation. If you read the wording carefully, the passage about the account of the Greek translation says, “like the day the Golden Calf was made.” But why is the translation being compared to the day the idol was fashioned, and not to the Golden Calf itself?

When reading the account of the Golden Calf, we discover that the idol was created a day earlier than it was worshipped.

When Aaron saw [the Golden Calf], he built an altar in front of it, and Aaron proclaimed and said: “Tomorrow shall be a festival to the L‑rd.” On the next day they arose early, offered burnt offerings, and brought peace offerings, and the people sat down to eat and to drink, and they got up to make merry.8

So, the wording, “like the day the Golden Calf was made” is rather curious. Why not simply say, “the day the Golden Calf was worshipped,” or better still, “like the worshipping of the Golden Calf”?

This, the Rebbe explains, is because the sages indeed did not consider the Greek translation problematic enough to compare it to an outrageous act of idolatry. They were comparing it to the day the golden calf was made, insofar as it created the potential for great sin—i.e., this act of translation was not without risks.

On the one hand, on the day the Golden Calf was created no act of idol worship occurred, yet what was done that day laid the groundwork for the cardinal sin that followed. It is to this phenomenon that the analogy is directed: The translation itself was not the problem; Moses had done the same and instructed others to do likewise. But the rabbis understood that it created the potential for future issues.

Masechet Sofrim (which we cited earlier) lists the alterations made by the sages when they prepared the Greek translation. They felt these changes were necessary to avoid gross misunderstandings of the Biblical message by Ptolemy and his courtiers. Yet those adjustments to the original text could now pose a stumbling block for future readers who may be confused about the Torah’s true intent. Should that indeed happen, it would be most unfortunate.

Just as the dayThe day the Golden Calf was created set the scene for a future downfall the Golden Calf was created set the scene for a future downfall, the translation of the Torah into Greek enabled future misunderstandings. It is this misgiving that the Talmudic sages expressed.

A person may say, “But I did what I did with the best of intentions, and to the best of my abilities. What more can be asked of me?” Unfortunately, good intentions and one’s best efforts are not always enough.

“Who is wise?” ask the rabbis. “He who can see what is likely to come of something.”9 We have to be appropriately cautious that our well-meaning actions do not inadvertently lead to negative outcomes. We bear some degree of responsibility for the fallout of our actions, even when we act in good faith. Be wise.

Adapted from Likutei Sichot, vol. 24, Parshat Devarim I.