Are we all individuals? Judaism and character training

The Torah portions which we are currently reading contain Moshe’s parting words of wisdom to his beloved nation. Prominent within these speeches are several broad biblical injunctions such as loving and fearing God, doing what is good and upright, and walking in His Ways. These injunctions are understood by our sages as seeking to guide people’s behaviour, perspective and lifestyle rather than as pertaining to the performance or avoidance of specific actions.

Talmud Reclaimed explores these commandments as part of its chapter on the aggadic passages of Talmud. In contrast to the legal passages of Talmud which seek to produce clear and binding rules, aggadot focus instead on the moral and spiritual development of individuals within the nation. Recognising that each person possesses a unique character, mind and soul, guidance of this sort cannot be rigid and formulaic – rather it offers key principles that individuals should follow in order to maximise control over their behaviour and perfect their character traits.

The individualised nature of character training is evident in Rambam’s discussion of correct ethical conduct. He makes this point strongly in the opening chapter of Hilchot De’ot:

Each and every man possesses many character traits…… Some these traits a man is born with and are natural to him. others are consistent with his nature and will [therefore] be easier to acquire. Some traits he does not have from birth. He may have learned them from others, or gained them on his own. This may have come as a result of his own thoughts, or because he heard that this was a proper trait for him to attain…The early sages therefore instructed a man to evaluate his traits, to calculate them and to direct them along the middle path, so that he will achieve perfection.

The process set out by Rambam on the basis of aggadic sources requires each person to assess his or her own traits, in order to then determine how they can best be trained towards the optimum level. As the parallel discussion in his Shemonah Perakim shows, Rambam understood that this process was highly individualised. Depending on one’s original set of traits, and on the life circumstances in which one finds oneself, two different people might be advised to take quite contrasting courses of action.

Rambam proceeds to examine how to balance various combinations of character traits. Basing his position firmly on a collection of aggadic pronouncements, he identifies which contrasting traits one should seek to balance by taking the “middle path” (for example one should be neither excessively jestful nor overly depressed). He also identifies those sets of traits regarding which a person is “forbidden to follow the middle path”, – such as the need to distance oneself from pride and anger. Further pairs of traits, such as silence and being over-talkative, require a more subtle approach to determine how a people should conduct themselves. What stands out, however, is that people must tailor an individualised method for maximising the set of character traits that they possess within the circumstances in which they find themselves. Sometimes, as in the case of a nazir, it is advisable for one to lean temporarily away from one’s natural tendencies in order to achieve the correct character balance.

The need for flexibility when applying ethical and lifestyle rulings arises not only from the various combinations of traits that give each individual his or her quality of uniqueness. Sometimes the nuances and dynamics of a particular situation can impact on what is likely to be the correct course of action.

For example, on the one hand students of ethical teachings must know when to “distance oneself from a bad neighbour and not join up with the wicked”. On the other hand, they must also learn to “love people and bring them to the Torah”. What’s more, the very process of identifying a person as being wicked or a bad neighbour must be reconciled with the need to “judge every person favourably”.

In another example, a Mishnah in the name of Rabbi Akiva strongly condemns frivolity and light-headedness as leading to immorality. In the Talmud, however, no less a personage than Eliyahu HaNavi reveals that two specific men had earned their share in the World to Come. Their merit? They were jesters who sought to cheer up those who were depressed.

We can see from these examples that the primary role of ethical aggadot is to remind us of both the importance of character training and the objectives that such training should seek to achieve. Ethical aggadot also provide innumerable examples of how the sages implemented them to the circumstances which prevailed in their own lives. While these examples seek to motivate, their status is markedly different to conclusions of legal passages of the Talmud which are strictly binding on all people regardless of the situation.

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No man is an island? Individualism in Rambam's worldview

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Bemidbar begins by examining how the Torah approaches census-taking, before exploring the delicate balance between individual and communal needs – particularly from Rambam’s perspective. An earlier parashah has already taught us not to undertake a simple headcount “so that there will not be a plague in their counting”. Malbim understands that, as in parashat Ki Tisa, the census here was performed by collecting half-shekel coins. He then offers a rationale: such a census, emphasizing the standing of each family and tribe, bore the potential to undermine the unity and, with it, the national providential protection which the Jewish people merited. This was rectified by each person sending a half-shekel to public funds, symbolising that the individual can become complete only by uniting with others.

Malbim’s emphasis on the importance of community does not always seem to be supported, however, from Rambam’s writings. We cite several passages, such as his advice to a person to flee to the deserts and caves rather than remain in a city of sinners. Rambam’s emphasis on the individual appears to be driven by his understanding of the afterlife: 

“Ultimate perfection, however, pertains to you alone, no one else being associated in it with you in any way…therefore, you ought to desire to achieve this thing, which will remain permanently with you, and not weary or trouble yourself for the sake of others” .

Rambam’s statements, however, must be read in combination with his conclusion in Moreh Nevuchim: the individual’s intellectual connection to God does not by itself represent humanity’s crowning accomplishment. Quoting Yirmiyah, Rambam writes that the purpose of a person’s life should be 

“to comprehend and know Me for I am God who performs kindness, justice, and righteousness in the world, for these I desire”. 

It is not sufficient merely “to comprehend and know Me”—a task limited to gaining an abstract intellectual perception of God. Rather, a person’s ultimate achievement is to understand, internalize, and perform “Godly acts” of kindness. While this conclusion is difficult to reconcile with much of Rambam’s philosophical writings, which focus on the individual’s mission to form an intellectual connection with God, it is apparently more consistent with the model of the “holy men of Judaism” such as Avraham and Moshe, who are revered and acclaimed for their dedication to and assistance of the masses rather than for living lives of secluded contemplation.

Judaism Reclaimed synthesizes Rambam’s range of writings on the individual-community balance and proposes that he might have intended a three-stage process for drawing close to God. Accordingly, his opening Hilchot De’ot advice to distance from evil-doers and writings which endorse seclusion are directed at toward the “common man” who is still taking the initial steps in this journey. This first stage requires isolation from detrimental influences so as to facilitate meditation on and internalization of the Torah and Divine truths. As the isolated individual gradually perceives and connects to God, he undergoes a profound change which leads him to the second stage of his journey toward “ultimate perfection.” The final chapter of Hilchot Teshuvah describes how knowledge and understanding of God’s truths lead one to a deep attachment and “lovesick” obsession with God and His Torah. In Moreh Nevuchim, Rambam explains how this “obsession” it involves the person’s mind constantly being focused on God, despite simultaneous involvement in worldly affairs.

The concluding comments of Moreh Nevuchim, which advise a more public-spirited outlook, are seemingly addressed to one who has achieved the second level, “to comprehend and know Me,” thereby forming the constant mental connection with God. That person can now concentrate on emulating and ‘partnering’ God’s acts of kindness , conditioning and guiding the masses toward a connection with God and His truths.

Judaism Reclaimed proposes that this is the key to unlocking not only inconsistencies in Rambam’s writings, but can also explain some apparently contradictory phenomena from Rambam’s own life. We note and quote how Maimonidean scholars struggle to reconcile the altruistic and public-spirited Rambam with the individualistic philosophical model that he appeared to endorse, suggesting that different periods of his life may correspond to these respective stages of his writings.

The chapter concludes with a fascinating idea from Rabbi S. R. Hirsch on the extent to which people should be involved with or isolated from a community which falls short of their personal standards and values. Drawing on details of Avraham’s living arrangements and locations, R’ Hirsch understands that Avraham sought to balance Yitzchak’s upbringing and education away from the Canaanite influences while still avoiding total isolation. He concludes that education of the young is certainly advantageous in an environment which is generally positive toward the values being imparted. Complete isolation, however, which denies the student all contact with people of contrasting lifestyles and ideas, is a “dangerous educational mistake”: a young person who lacks the chance to compare his parents’ morals and ideals to those of others, is unlikely to appreciate and respect the contrast between the two. This in turn places him at risk of falling to outside influences whenever he first encounters them.

First posted to Facebook 20 May 2020, here.

Private vows and sacred cows: self expression and individualism in the Torah

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Mattot explores the delicate balance which must be struck between the pursuit of unified halachic practice on the one hand and the recognition of the individual’s need for self-fulfilment and meaning on the other.

Our discussion is built upon the parashah’s detailing of nedarim, personal vows, which provide a person with the means to prohibit what the Torah has permitted. In his Shemonah Perakim, Rambam takes an overwhelmingly negative approach to nedarim and those who utter them, explaining that the Torah’s laws are carefully designed to lead a person to the perfection of his or her character traits. In choosing to take a neder, a person is essentially rejecting the notion that God’s mitzvot provide an adequate means of regulating his life and implying that he knows better than God how to achieve religious perfection. Rambam posits that nedarim should be employed only as a last resort, when there is no other way to control excessive or inappropriate desires.

Rambam’s strong criticism of those who make nedarim is consistent with a statement of the Gemara that one who makes a neder is like one who constructed a bamah [forbidden altar], and one who fulfills it is like one who offered a sacrifice on it [the bamah]. What exactly is behind the Gemara’s cryptic comparison between the taking of a neder and offering a sacrifice outside the Beit Hamikdash? Several similarities become apparent.

First, just like nedarim, bamot are not always prohibited. In the absence of a Beit Hamikdash, an offering on a private altar to God is considered a great mitzvah. Even so, a person who offers such a private offering in an era in which it is prohibited is liable to receive the punishment of karet. Similarly, nedarim are generally viewed as a rejection of the Torah’s formulation for perfection. In a situation in which a person feels he is likely to be overcome by sin, however, the making of a neder is considered a praiseworthy act.

Ran’s commentary to the Gemara hints at a further connection between these two halachot based on the fact that the Beit Hamikdash was built centuries after the Jewish People had conquered and settled the land of Israel. With the construction of the Mikdash, the use of private altars, which had been deeply ingrained into the national psyche as a valid and meritorious method of serving God, became irreversibly prohibited. Perhaps most significantly, these private altars had served for many years as a way for a non-priestly Israelite, to make a personal offering, literally in his own backyard.

Following the ban on bamot, the ordinary Jew was being asked to forgo a treasured act of personal involvement through which he was likely to have felt great spiritual fulfilment. Henceforth it would be the Kohen who performed all of the sacrificial tasks, leaving with the Yisrael a distant and uninvolved spectator. This deep popular connection to private altars – particularly in the context of the ever-present allure of idolatrous shrines – may explain why enforcement of the ban against bamot was so lax in the earlier years of the Judean kingdom. It was only during the later era of Chizkiyah that bamot were uprooted with any degree of success.

In the presence of a fully functional Beit Hamikdash, bamot represented the suggestion that an individual’s feelings of fulfilment could override the national religious interest. Bamot were therefore considered a rejection of God’s instruction for a unified national place of worship. In a similar vein, nedarim also represent a rejection by an individual of the Divine formula which was transmitted to the nation to guide people towards moral and spiritual perfection, with that individual instead attempting to draw close to God on the basis of his or her own subjective ideas.

Both the rejection of nedarim and the prohibition of bamot, however, are ideals for which God has provided exceptions. For someone who feels that there is no other way to restrain his sinful desires, nedarim are endorsed as a method of strengthening self-control. Similarly, the prohibition on bamot, which is a by-product of a strong, centralized Mishkan or Mikdash, only applies when the Jewish nation is relatively settled or has been unified under a king or strong leader. Against this backdrop of unified purpose and worship, the Jewish People can then complete its transition from being a collection of individuals worshipping God to a true nation of God.

First posted to Facebook 15 July 2020, here.