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.

Chassidic education--an insider's perspective

Having spent five years of my life in a Chassidic primary (elementary) school where I received a sub-standard education and was regularly beaten by teachers, this week’s New York Times revelation came as no surprise to me. In recent days I have read countless social media posts from commenters who are shocked at the public desecration of God’s name that they accuse these schools of having perpetrated. How, they ask, can people who are so outwardly religious – who obsess over minutiae of rituals – simultaneously practice such dishonesty and disregard for what others consider basic religious principles and human decency?

As a former student in such a school, one of the most overwhelming messages that I received from my teachers was that we were locked in an existential battle for our survival as religious Jews. In order to justify and explain the extreme insularity that we were being taught, it was made clear to us that the non-Jewish and non-religious world was constantly working for our physical and particularly our spiritual demise. Stories of pogroms and forced conscription to the Russian army were retold in ways which blurred the boundaries between past and present, the “secular” Israeli army and the Russians, the British national curriculum and the Haskalah movement, murderous anti-semites and the peaceful non-Jews among whom we lived. One episode sticks in the mind: a classmate reacting to my account of how I had watched cricket at the house of my Indian neighbour by asking in horror “weren’t you scared they were going to try and kill you?!”.

Against this backdrop and from this perspective, anyone and anything on the outside of the community is an enemy. A threat to our individual and collective existence as religious Jews. The implications being that this justified any form of dishonesty and playing the system to secure and strengthen our institutions. Since the goyim hate us and want to destroy us, we must fight with all our cunning and resources to survive. If this requires us to play dirty to preserve our tradition and secure our holy education that they cannot understand or value then so be it. In such a system, no crime is so heinous as undermining and challenging the religious institution by appealing to the secular authorities. This was made clear after I had received a particularly severe beating one day and my parents made a veiled threat to alert the police.

While the siege mentality and depiction of all outsiders as enemies was an important part of my Chassidic education, I believe that certain key elements of their mystical theology further reinforce the this approach. An intense theurgical focus on the ability of our actions to manipulate matters in the spiritual spheres is strongly promoted in Chassidic thought. While such ideas are not unique to Chassidic sources, they are greatly emphasized within these groups. In mystical sources and particularly in the common perception, spiritual value is therefore primarily associated with the inexplicable spiritual aspects of Jewish observance rather than on those commandments which emphasise honesty and helping one’s neighbour. This helps us understand why people who have been raised to view the Torah’s laws from such a perspective might be tempted to pay excessive sums for a faultless etrog – or to fly to Uman for a Rosh Hashanah blessing – even if they cannot afford to first settle their debts with the local grocery. Similarly, such people will think that they are enhancing their spirituality by misleading educational authorities in order to secure institutions which will educate more ritually committed Jews.

The Chassidic attitude to secular governments and their educational institutions is also greatly coloured by mystical teachings within Judaism which promote the idea that non-Jewish souls are inferior and less pure. While more universalist thinkers such as Rambam and Rabbi S. R. Hirsch follow the teaching of Rabbi Akiva in Avot (3:14) that “Beloved is humanity, for it was created in God's image”, Chassidic thinkers have consistently sought to emphasise the gulf between Jewish and non-Jewish souls (as I have examined here). This confidence in their superiority over outsiders adds to their instinctive reaction that “non-Jewish” rules aimed at ensuring that their institutions provide a proper education are to be opposed and fought. Devoid of such an education and lacking trust in the motives of outside authorities, such communities are less likely to tolerate other laws which are intended for their benefit such as health restrictions during a pandemic or safety regulations for mass Lag Be’omer celebrations.

Where does this leave us in terms of our Judaism today? It is not only Chassidic communities who pay lip service to the rebukes of Isaiah while continuing to practice a Judaism that prioritises ritual observance over basic honesty and righteousness. We all read the Haftarah just over a month ago from the first chapter of Isaiah which taught:

“You shall no longer bring vain meal-offerings, it is smoke of abomination to Me; New Moons and Sabbaths, calling convocations, I cannot [bear] iniquity with assembly. Your New Moons and your appointed seasons My soul hates, they are a burden to Me…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.”

In a few weeks we will read similar verses in the Yom Kippur Haftarah which relate God’s disinterest in ritual fasting by those who are dishonest and oppress the poor. But how much do we as a wider community really take its message to heart?

This time of year is not about highlighting and bemoaning the sins and misplaced priorities of others. It is time for our religious communities as a whole to start asking ourselves difficult questions. Why is it that we are so willing to tolerate those who abuse and cheat, steal and mislead? Those who don religious garb and perform ritual observances are routinely labeled “frum thiefs” – and even encouraged and lauded for continuing such observance while in prison for fraud. When our children contrast this with how our communities reject Jews whose levels of kashrut or Shabbat observance fall below our standards – or those do not dress in accordance with communal norms – they are entitled to ask: to what extent are any of us internalising the teachings and the Judaism of our prophets?

First posted on Facebook 13 September 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.

The childfree trend and western decadence

As Pesach preparations approach their final stages, it may inspire us to pause briefly and reflect on how the routines and rituals of Pesach in general, and Seder night in particular, represent a fundamental distinction between Jewish values and those of contemporary Western culture. 

Perusing my news feed earlier this week I was struck by a BBC feature (here) on the rapid rise in popularity of a “Childfree lifestyle” among young adults in Western societies. The feature particularly caught my attention as it followed from another article I had read previously about the sharp demographic decline in wealthier Asian countries such as Japan, South Korea and China. Meanwhile, not a single country in the Western world is reproducing at the rate of 2.1, required for population replacement (many are far below this rate.

What is prompting this recent change and what might it tell us about the state of Western society?

From the promotional material of Childfree influencers quoted in the article, the motivation for avoiding parenthood is clear: “kids would interfere with her passions for spontaneous travel, football training and regular lie-ins”. It would follow that we are witnessing a substantial increase in the number of Western adults choosing not to have children so that they can concentrate on their personal careers and recreation.

It was once widely believed that humans possess a strong innate desire to reproduce and raise children. According to proponents of a Childfree lifestyle such a choice, when viewed from the perspective of personal benefit, is not self-evident – it is even counter-intuitive. When a significant proportion of society begins to look at matters solely from an individualistic perspective, however, this may be an alarming indication of where it is headed.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks compiled an impressive array of historians and philosophers to argue that great civilisations have failed and decayed when the pursuit of individualism and personal luxury overtakes the importance of society and collective values and morals. Only against this backdrop, she argues can we understand the agenda of the Torah as

“the creation of a society capable of defeating the normal laws of the growth-and-decline of civilisations…By each person bearing and sharing responsibility for the society as a whole. By each knowing the history of his or her people. By each individual studying and understanding the laws that govern all. By teaching their children so that they too become literate and articulate in their identity.”

In contrast to the current Western trend, Judaism’s emphasis on a historical national covenant and collective consciousness is felt throughout the Torah. As the Exodus reaches fever-pitch with miraculous plagues striking the obstinate Pharaoh, God informs Moshe of their purpose being: “so that you tell into the ears of your son and your son's son how I made a mockery of the Egyptians, and [that you tell of] My signs that I placed in them, and you will know that I am the Lord”. A few chapters later a set of rites are commanded in order to ensure that this national memory will be burned into the collective consciousness of the Jews throughout future generations – rituals which we perform at the annual Pesach Seder (at which we fulfil the biblical commandment of “and you shall tell your son on that day”).

For a People whose life and aspirations of society are centered around internalising and transmitting core societal values rather than short-term personal pleasure and fulfillment, the task of raising and educating children becomes sacred and paramount. This is a repeated theme in the writings of Rabbi S. R. Hirsch who decried how, even in his day, the values of secular society were preventing modern Jewish communities from according sufficient respect for parents and teachers trying to impart a traditional education.

Later this week we will be gathering – collectively as a nation – around our tables in a unified attempt to convey our national story and fundamental values to our children. Perhaps the most important value of them all is the unstated emphasis that is embodied by our very act of holding an annual family Seder.

Posted to Facebook 2 April 2023, here.