A time to argue -- with God?

The closing section in the chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Ki Tisa addresses a troubling theological problem as to when, if ever, it is appropriate for a prophet to argue with God. At first glance, the evidence on offer seems perplexing and contradictory. Avraham engages in a lengthy debate with God in an attempt to rescue the sinful cities of Sodom, but does not utter a single word of protest when bidden to offer his own innocent son as a sacrifice. Moshe’s petition on behalf of the Jewish people is welcomed and accepted by God in the aftermath of the Golden Calf; however, a seemingly similar petition over the Jews’ treatment at the hands of the Egyptians leads, as Rashi explains, to a divine rebuke.

A possible approach to resolving this issue may be to distinguish between scenarios in which God reveals His intentions to a prophet, apparently engaging in discussion regarding His future plans, and cases in which God issues clear-cut divine command. The negotiation between God and Avraham regarding the fate of Sodom is introduced by God stating that it would be improper to conceal His intentions from Avraham – and Avraham does not actually reject or challenge any command by taking a stand on behalf of the doomed Sodomite denizens. This can be contrasted with the passage of the Akeidah which, opens with a clear command to Avraham to take and sacrifice his son. No room remains for negotiation, and any rejection would therefore have been improper. (A later chapter of Judaism Reclaimed examines the Akeida more fully in the context of religion and morality).

The same distinction may hold true in the incidents involving Moshe. He had been given a clear divine instruction to approach Pharaoh in order to seek the Jews’ release. Moshe’s subsequent questioning of this command (albeit having already carried it out) was thus considered an exhibition of insufficient faith. Similarly in the book of Yonah, Yonah is rebuked for failing to obey God. Since God’s word came as a command, there was no room for questioning or negotiation. In the aftermath of the Golden Calf, however, God’s initial statement of “hanichah li”, with which He introduces the suggestion that He annihilate the Jewish people, can be seen as inviting a response and therefore requiring Moshe’s input. It is for this reason that Moshe’s pleading and petitioning were not seen as a sign of inadequate faith.

One particularly fascinating case study in this area is that of Noach, whom the Torah describes as having been saved from the flood on account of his righteousness and good conduct. Noach appears to have been presented with a clear instruction to construct the Ark in order to save himself, his close family and selected members of the animal kingdom; he was thus not in a position to enter into a debate with God. However, there are sources which appear to take him to task for his failure to petition on behalf of his unfortunate neighbours. The Zohar for example explains that the floodwaters are referred to as “the waters of Noach” in order to indicate his partial culpability in not attempting to intervene on behalf of his generation. Perhaps we can suggest that, even though Noach had received a command, this command consisted of a preparatory measure of building the Ark, and did not therefore necessarily preclude him from entering into a debate with God on a finalised matter.

First posted to Facebook 12 March 2020, here.

The golden calf and the challenges of Jewish education

A fascinating yet perplexing aggada in Berachot depicts Moshe arguing with God in the aftermath of the Golden Calf. Moshe appears to be blaming God for the Jewish people's sinful behaviour, claiming that the strong temptation to stray left no realistic expectation that the Jews could have behaved otherwise. Our surprise at Moshe's apparently outrageous accusation is compounded when the Gemara concludes by stating that God concedes the point and agrees with Moshe's assessment. This aggadah is puzzling for several reasons: why would God have wanted to create such an insurmountable temptation? And on what basis might God subsequently retreat from His initial position?

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed that relates to Ki Tisa addresses these points as well as the broader question of when and how a prophet can argue with God.

At the start of his commentary on the episode of the akeidah, Ramban examines the concept of nisayon, a test specifically designed and delivered to an individual. He explains that when God sees a person's latent potential for spiritual growth, He will supply that person with a challenge in order to actualise this potential. For that reason, writes Ramban, God will design a nisayon that He knows the individual can succeed in overcoming.

While Ramban's formula can be understood with tests for individuals, it is extremely complex to apply to an entire nation, whose members possess a wide range of spiritual capabilities. Should a national challenge of faith and spiritual growth be so easy to pass that the entire nation should be capable of passing it, potentially sacrificing the growth of its more advanced members? Alternatively, should the test be so hard that only the nation’s most capable members could pass it, thus identifying those who possess the best potential for leadership? Or should the test be set at whichever level would be likely to benefit the majority?

Another conversation between God and Moshe, this time recorded explicitly in the Torah's text, further indicates their sharply contrasting approaches to the difficult trade-off between refining the nation's upper echelons on the one hand, and catering for its weaker members on the other. After Moshe is dispatched from the summit of Mount Sinai to witness the Golden Calf debacle, God proposes to annihilate the unworthy nation and develop a new chosen people from Moshe's descendants. Moshe emphatically rejects this suggestion, and once again we see God acceding to Moshe's position. Rather than eliminating the sinful nation, God instead replaces His direct hashgachahwith that of an angel, thereby diminishing the level of shechinah and hashgachahto a level that the entire nation could endure.

While the nation as a whole failed and was punished as a result of the test of the Golden Calf, a midrash in Bemidbar Rabbah notes how the tribe of Levi was greatly elevated as a result of passing this test, thereby meriting to become the 'tribe of God' and serve in the Mikdash:

"When Israel worshipped the golden calf, the Levites refused to participate … And when Moshe told them to gird themselves with swords, what did they do? They took their swords and showed no favouritism…God tested them and they stood up to His test … As a result Hashem chose them (to serve in the Beit Hamikdash) as it says, "God tests the righteous one …"

It would appear from this text that, from God's perspective, the rigorous examination that the entire nation was subjected to in the episode of the Golden Calf was justified by the significant spiritual growth gained by the Levites.

Returning to God's reconsideration in light of Moshe's request to spare the nation, neither position taken by God during this conversation should be viewed as incorrect. God's initial proposition to replace the Jewish people with a new nation of Moshe's descendants would appear to derive from middat hadin — the attribute of strict justice which generates difficult challenges and demands perfect responses. While the tribe of Levi thrived on this challenge, Moshe pleaded for the Jews to be treated instead with the attribute of mercy (the '13 attributes' of which God subsequently revealed to him). Through this attribute of mercy, it would be easier to accommodate human imperfection by diminishing the intensity of the providential relationship between God and the people – albeit at the expense of the opportunities for spiritual growth for its more advanced members.

In modern times, a similar debate has emerged over the primary objective of Jewish education. Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler contrasted the approach adopted by the Torah im derech eretz system of Rabbi S. R. Hirsch in Germany with that of the Lithuanian yeshivas. Rav Dessler comments that the choice of the 'Frankfurt school system' to teach secular subjects and approve of university education made its Judaism far more palatable to its devotees, with the result that the vast majority of them opted for a life of dedicated Torah observance.

In contrast to this, the Lithuanian yeshivas concentrated their students' energies and desires exclusively on studying Torah. These great Torah academies, writes Rav Dessler, produced outstanding Torah leaders and a yeshiva system which flourishes to this very day, but at significant detriment to the lives (and religious observance) of those who were unable to deal with the extreme lifestyle it demanded. The yekkish communities designed by Rav Hirsch, by contrast, largely failed to build great yeshivot or Torah leaders, leading to a situation which has seen their stable and observant youngsters being subsumed into the Lithuanian yeshiva world and adopted its values.

First posted to Facebook 13 February 2022, here.

The golden calf and Jewish education

Yesterday’s Torah reading featured a fascinating dialogue between God and Moshe as to the fate of the Jewish people in the aftermath of the golden calf. God shockingly proposes that the people should be annihilated and a new, improved, nation generated just from Moshe’s descendants. Moshe refuses to accept such a suggestion, insisting instead that the nation be forgiven and the covenant fulfilled through all of them.

In the aggadic literature, this debate takes on an even more theologically challenging dimension:

“… and ‘Di Zahav’. What is ‘Di Zahav’? Said the academy of R’ Yannai so said Moshe to the Holy One Blessed be He: “Master of the universe, the gold and silver that You allocated to Israel until they said “di” [enough!] caused them to sin with the Golden Calf …

R’ Yonatan said how do we know that the Holy One Blessed be He retraced and agreed with Moshe? As it says, “… and silver I lavished upon them and gold that they used for the Ba’al (idolatry)”.

Judaism Reclaimed dedicates a whole chapter to analysing these perplexing discussions, exploring the implications of what appears to be God allowing Moshe to overrule Him on key policy decisions affecting His chosen people.

One element of this discussion, however, concerns a difficult balance and debate which continues to occupy educators to this very day. How does one set the standard of study and discipline for a group whose members possess a wide range of ability?

At the start of his commentary on the episode of the Akeidah, Ramban examines the concept of nisayon, a test specifically designed and delivered to an individual. There he explains that God provides such a test for the benefit of the person being tested. When God sees a person's latent potential for spiritual growth, He will supply that person with a challenge in order to actualise this potential. For that reason, writes Ramban, God will only provide a nisayonthat He knows the individual can succeed in overcoming.

While Ramban's formula can be understood with regard to testing individuals, it is extremely complex to apply to an entire nation whose members possess a wide range of spiritual capabilities. Should a national challenge of faith and spiritual growth be so easy to pass that the entire nation should be capable of passing it, ignoring the potential for growth of its more advanced members? Alternatively, should the test be so hard that only the nation’s most capable members could pass it, thus identifying those who possess the best potential for leadership? Or should the test be set at whichever level would be likely to benefit the majority?

Judaism Reclaimed understands God and Moshe to be taking different positions on how to negotiate and compromise within these trade offs.

Ultimately, rather than eliminating the sinful nation, God instead replaces His direct providencewith that of an angel, thereby diminishing the level of shechinah and hashgachahto a level that the entire nation could endure. From God’s perspective, however, the episode did seem to provide a significant success story.

While the nation as a whole failed and was punished as a result of the test of the Golden Calf, a midrash notes how the tribe of Levi was greatly elevated as a result of passing this test, thereby meriting to become the 'tribe of God' and serve in the Mikdash:

"Take the Levites." The verse states: (Tehillim 11:5) "God tests the righteous one …" The Holy One, Blessed be He, does not raise the person up to greatness until He tries and tests him first. When Israel worshipped the golden calf, the Levites refused to participate … And when Moshe told them to gird themselves with swords, what did they do? They took their swords and showed no favouritism … For this Moshe blessed them ... Seeing that they were all righteous, the Holy One, Blessed be He, tested them and they stood up to His test … As a result Hashem chose them (to serve in the Beit Hamikdash) as it says, "God tests the righteous one …"

It would appear from this text that from God's perspective, the rigorous examination that the entire nation was subjected to in the episode of the Golden Calf was justified by the significant spiritual growth gained by the Levites.

Returning to God's reconsideration in light of Moshe's request to spare the nation, neither position taken by God during this conversation should be viewed as incorrect. God's initial proposition to replace the Jewish people with a new nation of Moshe's descendants would appear to derive from middat hadin — the attribute of strict justice which generates difficult challenges and demands perfect responses. While the tribe of Levi thrived on this challenge, Moshe pleaded for the Jews to be treated instead with the attribute of mercy (the '13 attributes' which God subsequently revealed to him). Through this attribute of mercy, it would be easier to accommodate human imperfection by diminishing the level of shechinah and hashgachah they were granted — albeit at the expense of the opportunities for spiritual growth for its more advanced members.

The chapter concludes with a discussion of how echoes of this ancient debate can be seen throughout Jewish history. While Rabban Gamliel considered that the study hall should be a place for the elite to scale the heights of Torah learning, Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah instead chose to open its doors to all-comers.

And in more recent times, a similar debate emerged over the primary objective of Jewish education. In a letter published in Michtav Me’Eliyahu, Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler contrasts the approach adopted by the 'Torah im derech eretz' system of Rabbi S. R. Hirsch in Germany with that of the Lithuanian yeshivas. Rav Dessler comments that the choice of the 'Frankfurt school system' to teach secular subjects and approve of university education made its Judaism far more palatable to its devotees, with the result that the vast majority of them opted for a life of dedicated mitzvah observance. In contrast to this, the Lithuanian yeshivas concentrated all of their students' energies and desires exclusively on studying Torah. These great Torah academies, writes Rav Dessler, produced outstanding Torah leaders and a yeshiva system which flourishes to this very day, but at significant detriment to the lives (and religious observance) of those who were unable to deal with the extreme lifestyle it demanded.

How can we strike the right balance in our 21st century Jewish education?

First posted to Facebook 12 March 2023, here.