Souls on fire: Rambam and Gehinnom

The chapters of Judaism Reclaimed which relate to parashat Ha’azinu explore Rambam’s understanding of core aspects of the afterlife such as Gehinnom and Resurrection of the Dead. We note the challenge of how the “fires of Gehinnom”, vividly depicted in Aggadic literature, can have any effect on, or relevance to, the metaphysical soul.

Ramban addresses this problem by explaining that “hell-fire” does not consist of earthly substances but rather is a special “quasi-physical” creation by God which is therefore capable of inflicting suffering upon the quasi-physical souls of sinners. This solution, however, is not available to Rambam, since he does not subscribe to the notion of a quasi-physical realm for the soul post death. (Further analysis of the contrasing conceptual frameworks within which Rambam and Ramban operate is available here at pp 60-62).

Rambam emphasises that upon death, the only element of the soul that remains is the pure intellect (sechel). In the opening chapters of Shemonah Perakim, he describes how the sechel transcends all other aspects of the person, such as emotions, which interact with the physical realm. One consequence of this is that the soul which remains after death is not equipped to experience any kind of physical pain which could be inflicted by a fiery Gehinnom.

Rambam’s difficulty in explaining posthumous punishment is deepened by a tradition which teaches that punishment in Gehinnom is time-limited: “judgment of the wicked in Gehinnom is 12 months”. This introduction of the concept of time into metaphysical matters is difficult to reconcile with Rambam’s understanding of the eternal and unchanging spiritual existence of the soul in the afterlife. This is because Rambam understands time to relate exclusively to the physical realm as a measure of its change and decay.

In addition to the difficulty of constructing a conceptual framework within which Rambam can explain Gehinnom, several statements which appear in Hilchot Teshuvah raise the further question of what function such a Gehinnom could fulfil within his worldview. In the 8th chapter, Rambam makes the following strong comments that appear to preclude the possibility of a “place of punishment” in the afterlife:

Anyone who does not merit this life [Olam Haba]…is cut off by his evil and lost like an animal…this is the “karet” [excision of the soul] which is described by the Torah… The greatest revenge that can be visited on a sinner is that his soul will be excised and he will not merit this eternal life. This is the destruction that the prophets refer to as be’er shachat [etc.] since it is destruction after which there is no subsequent resurrection, an irredeemable loss.

These statements troubled many Jewish scholars in the thirteenth century and added force to an attempt to ban Rambam’s works. Ramban, while bitterly opposed to many of Rambam’s ideas, wrote a lengthy and famous letter to the Rabbinic leadership in France in defence of Rambam,
pointing out that the apparently troubling passage of Rambam is paraphrasing a midrashic teaching in the Sifra that karet “is the loss of the soul”. Ramban then highlights other passages in Rambam’s work which make explicit reference to the sinner being judged for his sins, after which he can still achieve Olam Haba.

Ramban concludes that Rambam’s statements regarding ultimate punishment being the complete absence of the soul from any Olam Haba refer only to the soul’s subsequent fate once it has already undergone a temporary period of suffering. Ramban does not, however, attempt to explain how any such suffering could feature within Rambam’s broader understanding of the soul and the severe problems that this would entail.

After producing the initial draft for Judaism Reclaimed, I felt very uneasy about rejecting the interpretations of Ramban – along with all other Rabbinic commentaries I had found – of Rambam’s approach to punishment in the afterlife. I was therefore delighted to unearth Abarbanel’s lengthy analysis of the subject in which he explains Rambam on the basis of his clear statements in Hilchot Teshuvah that karet, the severest form of punishment, results in a total absence of existence. On this basis, Abarbanel points out, there cannot exist any form of gradation as between levels of different karet punishments. Abarbanel concludes forcefully that any other interpretation of Rambam is “a clear error in understanding his words”. I also discovered important precedent: several Tannaim cited in Avot d’Rabbi Natan expound verses to show that those such as the sinful inhabitants of Sodom and Korach’s assembly “were not living…were not judged…are not to be found even
among the congregation of the wicked, cease to exist in the world”.

Several questions remain:

• How, if at all, does Rambam interpret the copious and detailed aggadic material depicting a fiery Gehinnom?

• How are we to read Rambam’s own words in Hilchot Teshuvah that certain sinners receive Olam Haba after judgment and punishment?

• How is Rambam’s position reconciled both with broader concepts of justice and with the wider Maimonidean Jewish worldview?

Judaism Reclaimed attempts to develop an understanding of Gehinnom and Resurrection of the Dead which addresses these intriguing questions.

First posted on Facebook 23 September 2020, here.

Heaven or She'ol: what sort of afterlife does the Torah envisage?

When Ya’akov is confronted with news of the apparent death of his dear son, Yosef, he reacts by tearing his clothes and refuses to be comforted, instead crying out “I will descend to Sh’eol mourning for my son”. Ya’akov’s tortured utterance offers us an opportunity to examine what sort of afterlife the Torah might have envisaged. While later Rabbinic texts feature vivid and detailed depictions of the post-mortem delights and damnations that await humans (a matter I posted about previously here), such references and what they represent in Tanach are significantly more sparse.

In this guest post, Dovid Junik, a Jewish-theology enthusiast, teases out meaning from these afterlife references, advocating in the process a biblical afterlife of judgment and justice.

Biblical view of She’ol and the Afterlife

By Dovid Junik

If there was one single question we could get the answer to, most of us would probably choose the question of afterlife: what happens to our consciousness after the demise of the body. Many beliefs have evolved around this question, and even Judaism has had a diversity of opinions on the matter and an evolution of its own sort.

While the Talmud paints a vivid picture of a Heaven with many levels, a 12-month hell for some people, and an eventual resurrection, the biblical reality is far less vivid. There are even those who question whether or not the Tanakh believed in an afterlife of justice. Most bible scholars contend that Tanakh believed in an afterlife, but quite a different one than the afterlife we imagine. The biblical afterlife is called “She’ol,” described in various scriptures as the netherworld where the people eternally abide after death. It is described as an underground chamber where the dead live a dual life mimicking this earthly experience but in a shadowy dark environment. This She’ol is discussed in Canaanite writings as well.

We will now make the case that the Torah did in fact believe in an afterlife, whether it be a physical resurrection or a spiritual world for the soul or even She’ol. Afterwards, we will argue that Torah believed in a justice system for this afterlife as well. Let’s begin with the references to an afterlife:

· Describing the death of Abraham, Isaac, Ishmael, Jacob, Aaron, Moses and various biblical kings the Torah uses the terms "and he gathered to his nation"or "to his fathers”. This term strongly implies an afterlife in which these patriarchs are united with their pre-deceased ancestors. The term cannot mean simply joining the dead bodies of their ancestors in the graveyard, for most of these people weren't buried with their ancestors.

· In the Torah, we are warned about performing witchcraft, including talking to the dead spirit, implying that there was likely a dead spirit. This was quite a familiar practice at the time.

· Samuel the prophet's soul is being contacted by a witch after his death. During his conversation with King Saul, Samuel declares "Further, the Lord will deliver the Israelites who are with you into the hands of the Philistines. Tomorrow your sons and you will be with me; and the Lord will also deliver the Israelite forces into the hands of the Philistines.” Indeed, the next day Saul and his son Jonathan joined Samuel in the world above.

· David is in the midst of comforting himself on the loss of his son; and he says:

"But now that he is dead, why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will never come back to me.” 

Seemingly King David is comforting himself that he will one day see his deceased son.

She’ol or a justice system?

It would appear that the Torah assumes an afterlife justice system , perhaps in addition to She’ol. This justice system, where the righteous are rewarded and the wicked punished, may be a part of the She’ol experience (although other cultures believing in She’ol, at the time didn’t seem to look at it as a justice system). Ezekiel 31:18 seems to mention that there are various levels within She’ol and the unworthy are at the lowest. Alternatively, She’ol is merely describing the demise of the body whereas the soul lives on in an afterlife and is brought to justice for the good and bad it has committed. A number of verses indicate that She’ol may just be the death of the body – and not an underworld with its own consciousness. It is described alongside “death,” “pit,” and “grave.”

The scholarly consensus among bible critics is that the Torah believed in She’ol afterlife and had no justice system in mind. This notion comes from their premise that the Torah is not a divinely-inspired document and was rather the product of Canaanite culture. Here we will argue that as a divinely-inspired document, the Torah is likely to have believed in an afterlife with a justice system of some sort.

Crucially, the Torah wasn’t a product of Canaanite culture: rather it was a product of the Israelite’s sojourn in the Wilderness. Thus, the Israelites would have taken the Egyptian notion of a spiritual afterlife for granted. The Egyptians left a clear record of their religious beliefs in their hieroglyphics and they paint the vivid picture of an eternal spiritual afterlife where their god judges them for their actions in this world. The silence of Torah on the matter would be an indication that Torah believed in that same notion of afterlife.

This indication is bolstered by certain references from within the Torah’s text itself. God is regularly described in scripture as the “God of Justice” who will punish the wicked and reward the righteous. Since our earthly experience is not consistent with this description, it can be inferred that an afterlife of justice is intended.

Furthermore, the Jewish people are described as privileged to be the special Chosen Nation of God out of His love for them. But if we look at their earthly experience alone, we see the opposite to be true. The Jewish people are burdened with many additional commandments, while suffering exile and persecution for disloyalty to God. What benefit is there in being from God’s Chosen Nation, if not for there being an afterlife where the Jews are rewarded for keeping all their extra commandments and remaining faithful to God? This argument is underscored by the prophetic utterance of Bilaam who petitions God: “May I die the death of the upright, may my fate be like theirs!" – a seeming advantage possessed by the righteous in their passing.

While the extent to which these points constitute proof can be debated, I believe I have demonstrated that a strong argument can be made to support the notion of biblical belief in an afterlife of justice.

For more on this subject, including more possible biblical references to the afterlife, footnotes, and a discussion of why the Torah doesn’t explicitly discuss the afterlife, see here.

First posted on Facebook 9 December 2020, here.

Yom Kippur and "hell" in Jewish thought

The heavy atmosphere and liturgy of Yom Kippur are designed to direct our thoughts towards weighty matters. Recognition of sin, the process of atonement and potential consequences of our actions all feature prominently in the prayers.

Taking a step back, there is one very surprising omission. For a day so strongly focused on sin, punishment and promoting repentance, there is barely any mention of the “eternal hell-fire” so ubiquitous in Christian texts. This prompts us to ask a series of questions: (i) What exactly is the Jewish concept of Hell? (ii) Why does it feature so rarely in Jewish texts? (iii) Does it have any deeper relevance to Yom Kippur?

The chapters of Judaism Reclaimed which relate to parashat Ha’azinu explore the concepts of the World to Come, Gehinnom and resurrection of the dead – primarily from a Maimonidean perspective. A key problem, which troubled a number of leading rabbinic thinkers, is how seemingly physical phenomena, such as the hell-fire described in aggadic literature, can impact on the spiritual (non-physical) soul.

Ramban addresses this problem by proposing an intermediate category – neither entirely physical nor spiritual – to which these concepts relate. He explains that 'hell-fire' does not consist of Earthly substances with which we are familiar, but rather is a special 'quasi-physical' creation by God which is therefore capable of inflicting suffering upon the quasi-physical souls of sinners.

This solution is not available to Rambam, however, who does not subscribe to the notion of a quasi-physical realm for the soul post-death. Twice in his Mishneh Torah, Rambam emphasises that, upon death, the only element of the soul that remains is the mind (sechel). One consequence of this is that the soul which remains after death is not equipped to experience any kind of physical pain which could be inflicted by a fiery Gehinnom.

A further challenge involves the notion of resurrection of the dead to a physical body. Since, in Rambam’s understanding, eternal reward is a spiritual pleasure experienced by the soul alone in the World to Come, it is not immediately clear what benefit such resurrection could provide. After exploring the significant debates which took place over Rambam’s beliefs over techiya, Judaism Reclaimed develops an approach of Rabbi Yosef Albo in Sefer Ha’Ikkarim. According to R’ Albo, resurrection within Rambam’s worldview plays an important role in levelling the playing field, offering opportunities for those who were religiously observant but lacked the resources to develop a strong connection to God and the Torah during their lives. Being temporarily resurrected in a messianic era in which men and women are surrounded by 'tidal waves of knowledge of God' will afford such people a deserved opportunity to maximise their standing in the World to Come.

It is possible that this notion of temporary resurrection in an era of perfection also offers us a way to explain Rambam’s concept of Gehinnom. In such an era of perfection, it is not hard to see how those witnessing these events but who are themselves deprived of such opportunities to participate and develop their connection to God will be consumed by shame and regret at having been personally responsible for their unfortunate situation.

This idea of the wicked being punished in the messianic era by witnessing the spiritual bounty of the righteous while being themselves deprived is supported by a passage in Yeshaya. Addressing the wicked in the Messianic era Yeshaya declares:

“Therefore thus said my Lord, God: Behold, My servants will eat and you will starve … My servants will rejoice and you will be ashamed”. [65:13-14]

Yeshaya’s metaphorical feast is interpreted by Tannaic sages (Shabbat 153a) as a depiction of the contrasting fate of the worthy and unworthy. The righteous will partake of the spiritual ‘feast’ and be satiated, while “ravenous” sinners will be made to “stand and watch”.

Such an approach allows us to decode a whole group of perplexing midrashic sources – for example a statement by Reish Lakish that: "In the future there will be no Gehinnom, rather God will remove the sun from its sheath; the righteous will be cured by it and the wicked will be judged by it".

To summarise, the fires of Gehinnom, are not understood to be literal flames (see also Radak and Metzudat to Yeshayah 31:33). Rather they represent a temporary state of deep shame and humiliation which sinners will feel when faced with the truth and the damage that they have inflicted on their own souls. Non-severe sinners, Rambam writes, will thereby “be judged for their sins and will receive Olam Haba” (Hilchot Teshuva 3:5).

Returning now to the question of Yom Kippur, is there any connection between the purification and atonement offered by Gehinnom and the purification and atonement of Yom Kippur? How is it that Yom Kippur can provide forgiveness for our sins?

The central feature of the Yom Kippur service is viduy – a verbal recitation of our sins before God. On this day we shunt aside our physical needs and desires, and stand before God with a certain spiritual clarity that informs our aspirations and ideals rather than the messy compromises that the realities of everyday life necessitate. In this context – as in the truth of the messianic era – recognising how we have fallen short during the year and lost our moral and religious compasses should lead us to a feeling of deep embarrassment. As we summarise at the end of the viduy “Behold I am before you like a vessel filled with embarrassment and shame” [harei ani lefanecha kichli malei busha uchlimah].

Perhaps going through this process mirrors, to an extent, the shame of Gehinnom. The result is “lifnei Hashem titharu” – that we become cleansed of our sins and thereby gain the opportunity to redefine and recreate our relationship with God in a more positive manner. It is the joy which arises from this whole process which shines through the traditional celebrations at the end of Yom Kippur – a joy which we seek to take with us in the next set of festivals.

First posted to Facebook 2 October 2022, here.

Yosef's brothers and the benefits of Hell

The gripping narrative of Yosef and his brothers grows increasingly tense as we move into parashat Vayigash, where the story’s climax sees Yosef reveal his true identity to his confounded and speechless siblings. No less dramatic is some of the midrashic literature which accompanies the passage:

Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria said “Woe to us for the day of judgment! Woe to us for the Day of Rebuke! If Yosef HaTzaddik, who is human, could rebuke his brothers in a way that they could not withstand, The Holy One Blessed be He, who sits in judgment over every single individual, how much more so can no human withstand His rebuke!” [Bereishit Rabbah 93:10-11]

This association between heavenly judgment and people being suddenly and shockingly confronted by their errors and inadequacies has already been established earlier in Bereishit Rabbah; when Yitzchak “trembles very greatly” upon realisation that he has been tricked (and perhaps that he has wrongly evaluated his sons) the midrash teaches that “Gehinnom” entered into the room.

It is important to note that the Hebrew word for rebuke “lehochi’ach”, literally means to prove. In the biblical scenarios under discussion there was no shouting or cursing – there was no need. Circumstances had unfolded in a way that made it unambiguously clear that Yosef’s brothers had profoundly miscalculated. It was very suddenly and clearly demonstrated that they had convinced themselves of a falsehood and been living their lives accordingly for many years.

Yosef’s brothers had believed that Yosef’s dreams were a product of his delusions of grandeur and were indicative of his dangerous intentions to establish himself as a ruler over them. So sure were they of their own conclusions that they were willing to sell into slavery (and at one stage even kill) their younger brother and cause untold suffering to their elderly father. Now after pleading with the Egyptian viceroy to redeem their youngest brother from slavery – and have mercy on their elderly father – this viceroy turns out to be the very brother they sold. Providence had raised him into a position of rulership over them – a position which he used not to harm them but to provide vital supplies in a time of famine.

At that single moment of hochacha, in which their entire value system and apparent truths came crashing down, there was nothing to say. It is this feeling which our sages equate with Gehinnom and the Day of Judgment.

The author of the midrash appears to be making a pointed comment to us. That our lives all contain certain convenient miscalculations and hypocrisy. Sacrifices, for example, that we consider too onerous to make in order to help others – or to further our spiritual development – but which we enthusiastically surmount in order to pursue money or personal pleasure.

This midrashic depiction of Gehinnom and the Day of Judgment as focused on shame has bearing on a fascinating discussion by Nissim of Gerona in Derashot HaRan #10. There Rabbeinu Nissim seeks to analyse the function of punishment generally – and particularly the notion of divine punishment in the afterlife.

Noting the Torah’s prohibitions against taking revenge and bearing a grudge, he understands that the Torah must therefore view such conduct as undesirable. It follows therefore that divine chastisement is only to be visited upon sinners for the purpose (i) of guiding them to improve or (ii) as an example for others to learn from. But how are we to approach the notion of sinners suffering eternal retribution in hellfire?

It would appear that the concept of Gehinnom itself may best be viewed as some kind of shaming and rebuke of sinners in a future era which is awash with knowledge of God (this has been explored at length in a previous post here). Strikingly, Resh Lakish teaches in Nedarim 8a

In the future there will be no Gehinnom, rather God will remove the sun from its sheath; the righteous will be cured by it and the wicked will be judged by it.

On the basis of our suggestion we can now view Gehinnom not as punitive punishment but rather as a temporary period of constructive suffering, through which the sinner is able to achieve Olam Haba.

The total shock felt by Yosef’s brothers at having their errors made unambiguously laid out in front of them is therefore an entirely appropriate and indeed helpful biblical template through which to relate to the idea of Gehinnom – a purposeful purgatory.

First posted on Facebook 25 December 2022, here.