Thoughts on Pirkei Avot

In congregations that gather on Shabbat afternoon for Mincha, Maariv, and Havdalah, there is often a quiet, liminal stretch of time between the afternoon service and the moment when evening can properly begin. Communities fill that in‑between space with a light meal, the Seudah Shlishit, the third Sabbath meal, and a bit of learning. The most common text for that study is Pirkei Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers. Many traditional siddurim—including Lev Shalem—print Avot immediately after the Shabbat Mincha service, reflecting a custom that reaches back at least to the Geonic period, the era just after the completion of the Talmud in the Babylonian academies. Rav Saadia Gaon includes it in his siddur, and Rav Sar Shalom Gaon mentions the practice in his response. Over time, a more specific seasonal custom developed: studying Avot during the weeks between Passover and Shavuot. Since the tractate contains five chapters and the Omer period includes six Shabbatot, a sixth chapter—drawn from the minor, post-Talmudic tractate of Kallah Rabbati—was added to complete the cycle. Many communities continue studying Avot throughout the summer, repeating the cycle until Rosh Hashanah. Others once studied it year‑round. With some 1,500 commentaries, it is perhaps the most interpreted tractate in the Mishnah. One edition in my own library even presents an interfaith commentary, pairing each teaching with parallels from Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Chinese philosophy. As Maimonides reminds us, “Accept the truth from whoever says it.” Avot stands apart from the rest of the Mishnah. Most tractates address law and practice; Avot offers ethical teachings and character guidance from sages spanning two centuries before the Common Era through the early third century CE. It appears in the order of Nezikin—laws of property, courts, and civil society—because its teachings are directed especially toward judges, leaders, and those entrusted with authority. Before one can adjudicate others, one must refine oneself.

Yet its wisdom is not limited to rabbis or judges. Its aphorisms have shaped Jewish moral imagination for generations:

• “If I am not for myself, who will be for me…?”

• “Greet every person with a pleasant expression.”

• “Say little and do much.”

• “It is not your duty to complete the work, nor may you avoid it altogether.”

• “Be a disciple of Aaron—loving peace and pursuing peace.”

• “On three things the world stands: Torah, divine service, and acts of lovingkindness.”

• “Pray for the welfare of the government…”

• “Do not look at the jug, but at what it contains.”

These teachings and many others are familiar because they speak to the core of human character. We have heard them all our lives.

The title of the tractate itself invites interpretation. Pirkei means “chapters,” while Avot literally means “fathers,” though that is not a typical term for rabbinic teachers. We generally use Avot to refer to the patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Christians may speak of the Church Fathers, but we think of wisdom transmitted by sages and teachers. In rabbinic usage, av can also mean a category or archetype—as in the 39 avot melachah of Shabbat, 39 categories of forbidden labor. Thus, Pirkei Avot may be read as “Chapters of Foundational Principles,” a taxonomy of ethical archetypes. More popularly, it is “Ethics of the Fathers,” a reminder that law alone is insufficient without the cultivation of moral character.

Maimonides’ early commentary on the Mishnah—written in Judeo‑Arabic—less known than his later works of law and philosophy, contains three major essays. One introduces the chain of tradition; another lays out the principles of faith later condensed into Ani Ma’amin and Yigdal. The third, placed before Avot, is the Shmonah Perakim, the Eight Chapters.

There, Rambam explores the nature of the soul, its faculties, its illnesses, and its healing. He articulates the “golden mean,” the balanced path between extremes. He describes the traits of the pious and the qualities of the prophet. In essence, he offers a Jewish moral psychology. For Rambam, Avot cannot be approached without first understanding how character is formed and how virtue is cultivated. The Eight Chapters become the doorway through which Avot is meant to be read.

Why study Avot during the days of the Omer? Rabbi David Abudraham, writing in the 14th century, links the study of Avot specifically to the weeks between Passover and Shavuot. These days, he says, are like the days of a lover awaiting the arrival of the beloved—counting each day and night until the moment of reunion. As we count toward the giving of the Torah, we study Avot because it urges us toward Torah and mitzvot.

He adds a second insight: this is the season of the harvest, when material abundance can stir desire and distraction. Avot, with its emphasis on moderation, humility, and ethical clarity, helps quiet the passions and steady the soul. It guides us toward the inner refinement necessary to receive Torah anew.

Jewish tradition teaches that every day a voice still echoes from Sinai. Torah is given continually; the question is whether we are prepared to receive it. Shabbat afternoon is a liminal time—neither day nor night. The Omer is a liminal season—neither liberation nor revelation. Avot is the text that teaches us how to live in the in‑between. It bridges unbridled freedom of the slave released from bondage to the disciplined acceptance of a life governed by Torah. During the 49 days of the Omer we gradually ascend to take our place as a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.

The teachings of Avot refine our character, soften our ego, widen our compassion, and steady our judgment. They prepare us to stand once again at Sinai with all the generations before us and to welcome Torah into our lives.

If the Torah is given every day, then Pirkei Avot is the daily practice of making ourselves ready.