Sunday 23 June 2024

Religious coercion and Jewish theocracy

This week’s parashah opens with a requirement to appoint law enforcement officers. In Torah law, it is not only civil and criminal law which is regulated by governmental authorities, but also religious rules such as Shabbat observance.

How are we to relate to the Torah’s apparent endorsement of such a phenomenon? Can this passage be cited in support of those who campaign, for example, to close entertainment venues on Shabbat in Israel?
Setting aside the practical efficacy of adopting heavy-handed tactics in an attempt to increase religious observance among secular people – and the likely backlash that this would continue to provoke – certain Talmudic passages suggest that implementing such coercion in today’s society may not be correct from a religious perspective.
In its chapter which grapples with the ability of Jewish civil and criminal law to govern a society, Judaism Reclaimed cites a fascinating passage from the writings of Yeshayahu Leibowitz. The passage concerns the Eglah Arufah ceremony – also found in this week’s parashah – which was performed by the elders of a community which had suffered an unsolved murder. By carrying out this rite, the community is brought to realise the enormity of what has occurred and the sanctity of human life.
A Mishnah at the end of Sotah teaches, however, that “when the number of murderers increased, the Eglah Arufa ceremony was suspended”. This religious rite is meaningful only in a society for which murder is an abhorrent and exceptional occurrence. Once murder is commonplace, explains Leibowitz (and supported by Rabbi S. R. Hirsch), there is no need to pretend that we are shocked by an unresolved murder. In such a society there is a certain measure of hypocrisy in such a rite. The society must first be purged of daily occurrences of murder – only then is there reason to hold such a ceremony. A parallel tannaitic teaching informs us that “when adultery became common, the bitter waters [Sotah rites] were suspended”. Once again, concludes Leibowitz, if a society is saturated with sexual immorality, there is no reason to be shocked at the case of a suspected adulteress. One ought instead to try to reform the society.
Leibowitz then proposes that the spirit governing the abolition of the Eglah Arufah and Sotah rites contains an important lesson for today’s generation:
“In a society and state which are not based on the recognition of the obligation to observe the Torah, there is no reason to investigate whether some specific law of the state is in accordance with the halakha. By directing our thoughts and actions to just these details…we make the struggle for the Torah and its mitzvot into a caricature.
In a society and a state in which public life, as based on government and law, involves the operation of ports and airports on Shabbat, where hundreds of factories work on Shabbat with government permission, where there are government radio and television on Shabbat, the struggle against the opening of another movie house on Shabbat makes religion into a mockery. In a society where large parts within it, of all social classes, have ruled that “You will not commit adultery” and “there will not be a harlot” does not apply, and that such phenomena are even understandable – the requirement that marriage must be in accordance with halakha is only a desecration of the institute of religious marriage, a desecration of the Torah, and only serves to increase the number of mamzerim in Israel.
Mend the society, mend the state – and then you are permitted, and even obliged, to be concerned that the details within the framework of the society and the state should be in accordance with the demands of the Torah. As long as you do not struggle for a change of the image of the Jewish people, you cannot struggle for certain details in the lifestyle of the members of this community, and certainly not for details in the laws of that state, that community – which has not assumed for itself the Yoke of the Torah and mitzvot – is establishing for itself.”
It may be possible to bolster these powerful words from Yeshayahu Leibowitz with those of his prophetic namesake, who sharply rebuked Israel for their misplaced priorities in the First Temple era:
“You shall no longer bring vain meal-offerings, it is smoke of abomination to Me; New Moons and Sabbaths, festivals, I cannot [bear] iniquity with assembly. Your New Moons and your appointed seasons My soul hates, they are a burden to Me; I am weary of bearing [them]…Wash, cleanse yourselves, remove the evil of your deeds from before My eyes, cease to do evil. Learn to do good, seek justice, strengthen the robbed, perform justice for the orphan, plead the case of the widow.”
If God, as represented in the first chapter of Yeshaya, considers the ritual observances of a corrupt and unrighteous people to be unwelcome and burdensome, can we rightly expect our secular brethren to embrace a religion which is so regularly tainted with scandal and unethical behaviour? Rather than battling to coerce whole swathes of a resentful secular society to unwillingly curtail their Shabbat entertainment, perhaps the most potent tool of persuasion available to religious warriors is to concentrate on constructing a religious society which is so ethical, holy and righteous that is serves as a spiritual magnet for those searching to better themselves and live a refined and godly existence.
Tel Aviv light rail dispute here.
First posted on Facebook 28 August 2022, here.

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