The confusing command to "walk in God's ways"

A repeated theme in yesterday’s Torah reading is the instruction that we are to walk in God’s ways – understood by our sages as a commandment to imitate God’s attributes as they define them: “Just as He is merciful so must you be merciful, just as He is gracious so must you be gracious”. As Judaism Reclaimed explores, this is a perplexing idea – particularly from the Rambam’s perspective what does it mean to mimic a deity which is understood to be beyond comparison and cannot even be described in human language?

One fascinating discussion of this concept can be found in the first chapter of Rambam’s Hilchot De’ot, where he contrasts the chacham (wise person) with the chassid. It would seem that according to Rambam’s understanding, an important step in correctly achieving and internalizing wisdom is balancing one’s character so that one’s perspective and analysis is not skewed by undesirable traits. This is the aim of a chacham whose connection to God is focused upon wisdom and intellectual pursuits. It may even be suggested that “walking in God’s ways” means attempting to minimize any imbalance and faulty reasoning in the same way as, it is understood, God’s “thought process” operates without external interference.

In contrast to the “chacham”, Rambam depicts a different mode of approaching God – the “chassid” whose “actions are more numerous than his wisdom” (see commentary to Avot chapter 3:9). The chassid, it would seem, seeks to “walk in God’s ways” by copying His actions of kindness as defined by the sages rather than idealizing the path of balance. The Rashba compiles a list of Talmudic mentions of chassidim, who are depicted as meditating for hours before and after prayer, searching out and removing dangerous objects from the public domain, and being prepared to use all of their possessions for the benefit of others.

Another fascinating dimension of this commandment to “walk in God’s ways” is the extent to which it overlaps with another biblical injunction: To love one’s fellow as oneself. Paraphrasing the sages, Rambam in the final chapter of Hilchot Avel defines this law as performing acts of kindness for others which one would want them to perform for oneself – such as comforting mourners, visiting the sick and rejoicing at weddings.

What emerges is that, when performing such a prescribed act of kindness, one may well be simultaneously fulfilling two separate biblical commands. The first, walking in God’s path, would be categorized as bein adam lamakom (between man and God) – strengthening one’s relationship and connection with God by making oneself more like Him. The second – loving one’s fellow as oneself – is more associated with bein adam lechaveiro (between man and man) as it improves the relationships between people and within communities.

Aside from the different focuses of these two commandments, there may also be circumstances in which they can apply independently of each other.

Imagine a scenario in which one travels for hours to visit a mourner only to find that he has traveled abroad or has closed the house of mourning for the day. From the perspective of “walking in God’s ways”, one may well have succeeded, through the attempted visit, in train his or her traits towards being a chacham or chasid. It is harder, however, to say that one has actually performed an act of kindness towards the other.

Alternatively, for a person whose personality has already stretched too far to the side of kindness towards others (the Rambam says this needs to be balanced with concern for one’s own wellbeing), a long trip to a mourner’s house may not be viewed as “walking in God’s ways” – but nevertheless should certainly constitute an “act of kindness” if he gets to comfort the mourner.

For comments and discussion of this post, click here and also here (on Avot Today)

The excruciating question of hostage negotiation

In dark times such as these, many of us find ourselves looking back to precedents from our tear-stained history for guidance and insight. What we find is not always clear and unambiguous, but even then it can provide a measure of perspective and comfort to know that our desperate struggles and moral quandaries are similar to those which our ancestors have faced over the millennia.

Talmud Reclaimed brings the example of redeeming hostages as one of a series of cases which demonstrate different methodologies through which Rambam and the Tosafists identify rulings from the Talmud. The primary Talmudic passage in (Gittin 45a) presents a clear rabbinic decree prohibiting the redemption of hostages “for more than their value” since this will encourage kidnappers to abduct more Jews and demand ever increasing ransoms. Rambam, in keeping with his usual practice, records this ruling without exception in his legal code (Matnat Aniyim 8:12).

Yet this is far from the end of the story.

The Ba’alei Tosafot (Gittin 58a), consistent with their own Talmudic approach, identified several exceptions to this Talmudic ruling – for example if the hostage’s life is in danger or if a Torah scholar is abducted. Was the Mishnah’s ruling simply too strict and uncompromising to be imposed unconditionally on the nation?

Fascinatingly, when one of the most prominent Tosafists, Maharam MiRottenburg, was kidnapped for a heavy ransom, he refused to allow his community to collect money to redeem him out of fear that this would merely encourage the gentiles to abduct more rabbinic leaders.

This painful moral conundrum has become magnified to an unimaginably horrifying extent in the current nightmare which our nation has been living for the last year.

On the one hand, there is the cold, rational voice of the Mishnah hanging over us. By agreeing to redeem hostages “for any price” we have undoubtedly encouraged our enemies to utilise hostage-taking as a preferred strategy against us. The 1000+ terrorists released as part of the Shalit deal in 2015 have been directly responsible for several Israeli deaths (and arguably indirectly for many more).

Perhaps more significantly, it established the norm that Israel will pay an outsized price to redeem its people (unlike the Ukraine-Russia conflict where prisoner exchanges frequently exchange at a 1-1 rate). When Hamas decided on October 7 to abduct Israelis rather than complete the massacre it was not done for the sake of the Israelis themselves but as a cruel tactic to ensure Hamas’s survival in the inevitable war that would follow. Israel, they predicted, would agree to any price to get its people back – even one that leaves them with a relatively open border to rearm and renew its ability to launch further murderous attacks on Israel.

On the other hand, what are the consequences of not agreeing a deal to bring our tortured brothers and sisters back home? Will seeing our hostages – their devastated families and friends – pleading for their lives yet us turning a blind eye to their pain irreversibly change us as a nation? Is our willingness to do anything to bring our people home, a willingness that our enemies identify as a weak spot, really a source of national strength, pride and unity? Perhaps a refusal to proceed with a deal will bring a pyrrhic victory – militarily degrading Hamas to a point of no return but morally and socially degrading Israel in the process. Will we be the same people afterwards?

It is an impossible question which we are faced with. How can we, as human beings and as Jews, face our hostage families and tell them that their loved ones are not worth the price of military compromise. At the same time how can we ignore that cold rational truth in our heads which predicts the numerous likely Israeli deaths in the years to come from agreeing such a deal – and the knowledge that we are playing along to Hamas’s strategy.

However there is another part of Hamas’s strategy we can and must do more to mitigate. We must keep at the forefront of our minds that our true enemies are not our fellow Jews who balance up these concerns differently to ourselves but the bloodthirsty terrorists who knowingly calculated to put us into this awful moral conundrum in order to tear us apart. None of us are traitors. We all want the hostages home and well as soon as possible and Hamas weakened and degraded to the greatest extent possible. We cannot afford to permit Hamas to turn us against each other with poisonous rhetoric and actions.

May this month, as we prayed this morning, be one of salvation and comforting, life and peace.

Unified we will be victorious. Am Yisrael Chai.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

The hallowed Jewish tradition of ignoring prophets

On a number of occasions I have heard rabbinic speakers bemoaning how, in the diminished spiritual state of our era, we lack the clear guidance and inspiration of prophets. If only, they claim, we could be exposed to the communications of figures such as Shmuel, Yeshayahu and Yirmiyah – we would enthusiastically rush to perform God’s authenticated word.

This got me wondering: despite Jewish tradition’s nostalgic yearning to “renew our days as of old”, our track record for hearkening to the prophetic word was pretty poor then and is little better now.

Our parasha this week grapples with the task of how to authenticate a putative prophet. As Judaism Reclaimed demonstrates, the application of this authentication process was not always so clear in practice. Yirmiyah in particular appears to have been subject to accusations that he was a false prophet – unsurprisingly the royal court identified its own alternative prophets who communicated messages more favourable to the king. Nor was Yirmiyah the only prophet to be persecuted, Eliyahu and prophets in his era were exiled and even killed in the days of Ahab and Jezebel.

While those episodes might be dismissed as isolated actions of particularly sinful individuals, it would seem from the words of the prophets themselves that significant portions of what we might regard as the “observant” Israelites were not receptive to their teachings:

Of what use are your many sacrifices to Me? says the Lord. 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. Everyone loves bribes and runs after payments; the orphan they do not judge, and the quarrel of the widow does not come to them. Learn to do good, seek justice, strengthen the robbed, perform justice for the orphan, plead the case of the widow.

(Taken from Chap. 1 of Yeshaya)

In biblical times as today, people tended to gravitate to religion to provide mysterious and spiritual rites rather than the moral guidance emphasized in prophetic teachings as bearing primary importance. The impression that we get from the repeated and frustrated prophetic protestations is that they had a hard time getting people to take their message seriously and apply it to their lives.

So, we can ask ourselves, even assuming that we could identify and authenticate a contemporary prophet, how enthusiastic would our communities be to implement his teachings?

The answer in many parts of the observant world is apparent from the way in which we treat the existing prophetic teachings which have been part of our Tanakh for thousands of years and selected by our sages to be read as Haftarot on important days:

Will such be the fast I will choose, a day of man's afflicting his soul? Is it to bend his head like a fishhook and spread out sackcloth and ashes? Is this not the fast I will choose? To undo the fetters of wickedness, to untie the bands of perverseness, and to let out the oppressed free, and all perverseness you shall eliminate. Is it not to share your bread with the hungry…

Yes, we may read in the above passage on Yom Kippur that God values honesty and charity ahead of ritual worship – but how many of us have really internalized and absorbed the message that we should be obsessing over our treatment of the downtrodden rather than details of the Yom Kippur fast?

As my friend Uzi Weingarten pointed out to me, our flawed value system is reflected by the very terminologies that we tend to employ, and the extent to which we identify various forms of sinners as part of our religious communities. While those who do not observe ritual laws such as Shabbat to a standard that we approve are considered “irreligious” or “unorthodox”, it is unfortunately common to refer to one who is jailed for fraud or tax evasion as a “frum person in jail”. Sometimes we even find such people being praised for their observance of Kashrut or Torah study during their time in jail. This could not be in sharper contrast to the values of Yeshaya quoted above.

On reflection, perhaps the sudden appearance of a true prophet of God would not be a quick fix – a magic wand which would instantly inspire our righteousness and repentance. We cannot be certain when the era of prophecy will be renewed. All that we can do in the meantime is to draw our own value system closer to that which was taught by the ancient prophets of Israel.

Only by being attuned and receptive to the prophetic message of old can we have any hope of ending one of the oldest Jewish traditions – that of ignoring our prophets.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Vayechi: Lishmah and the pursuit of genuine religiosity

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed relating to parashat Vayechi builds upon the midrashic interpretation of Ya'akov's words “Perform for me kindness and truth, do not bury me in Egypt”. Midrash Rabbah, quoted by Rashi, explains: “kindness that is done with the dead is true kindness, for one does not expect any payment or reward”.

The political context surrounding Ya’akov’s instructions to Yosef on his deathbed deeply exacerbated the degree of “kindness” involved. Ya’akov knew that this request would be highly unpopular with his family, which was already looking to integrate into Egyptian society and seeking to demonstrate loyalty to its hosts. In his Meshech Chochmah, Rav Meir Simchah of Dvinsk comments that it was precisely for this reason that Ya’akov felt the need to burden his sons with the task of carrying his body out of Egypt—so that neither their initial desire to integrate nor the subsequent years of exile and servitude would cause them to lose sight of their destiny of reaching the promised land.

The Midrash’s focus on the motive for an act of kindness forms part of a greater emphasis in Judaism on the thoughts which accompany good deeds. In his Introduction to Chelek, Rambam cites a number of teachings from the Sages which require mitzvot to be performed “lishmah” out of love for God – understood by Rambam to consist of a strong intellectual appreciation of the inherent value and truth of the Torah and its commandments. Recognising that this level of religious functioning is difficult to understand, let alone achieve, Rambam describes how the Sages not merely permitted but required the study of Torah and fulfilment of mitzvot even when they are motivated by heavenly reward and punishment. This concession was premised upon the understanding that such engagement with Torah and mitzvot could lead people to an appreciation of their inherent worth, and with it, a purer motive. Rambam’s understanding of the concept of lishmah, representing service of God through intellectual love, is contrasted with the approach of Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler (possibly based on Ra’avad), who understands lishmah to consist of serving God with enthusiasm.

Our chapter moves on to consider why Rambam places so much importance on the motive for performing a mitzvah (from the final chapter of Hilchot Teshuvah it appears to be considered the pinnacle of religious achievement). One of the approaches that we suggest examines this question from the point of view of halachta bidrachav – walking in God’s ways. We analyse passages of Moreh Nevuchim which address God’s potential motives for creating the world before concluding that, while we can recognise that creation benefits humanity, it cannot be stated that creation in any way enhances or rectifies a need of God. God’s creation of the world could thus be viewed as the ultimate chessed shel emet – kindness without the possibility of any payment or reward. A person who achieves the level of lishmah may thus represent the most elevated embodiment of walking in God’s ways – a proposition which appears to find support in the Moreh’s closing paragraphs.

The chapter closes with a summary of Rambam’s sobering analysis of the shallow, unthinking religion-by-rote which, it appears, plagued Judaism in his day no less than in ours. Rambam starts by describing a child whose Torah teacher provides sweets and treats as a form of bribery in order to attract the interest of his young student. While the child may learn and succeed in his studies, his motivation is far removed from the profound truths of the Torah, being premised solely upon receipt of the confectionery that is dangled before him. As this child grows and matures, his tastes become more sophisticated, and the sweets and treats are gradually replaced by monetary prizes. Eventually, as an adult, this child may have now attained a degree of wisdom, but his motivation will be to attract a desirable marriage offer, gain renown, or receive a position of prestige. Ultimately, Rambam teaches, escape from the clutches of the jealousy, lust, and honour-seeking which naturally govern a person’s interactions with the world can only be achieved through genuine recognition and appreciation of the value and truth inherent in one’s religious pursuits.

First posted to Facebook 9 January 2020, here.

Judaism Reclaimed reviewed

Now for a discussion of Judaism Reclaimed with Rabbi Joseph Dwek. You can access it here.

First posted on Facebook 17 May 2020, here.

A time for peace, a time for violence?

The painful images and accounts which have confronted us in recent days, first of the callous murder of a restrained black man at the hands of a policeman, and then of the widespread violent protests and looting that the murder triggered, have left many of us searching for an authentically ‘Jewish’ response to these events. Judaism Reclaimed explores the meaning and application of the notions of peace, zealotry and violence within the Torah in the context of its analysis of the complex religious personality of Pinchas and Eliyahu. A few important conclusions are offered:

The Concept of Peace. Rabbi S. R. Hirsch argues that the Torah’s conception of peace is a far more profound and noble concept than mere passivity or absence of violence. It represents a positive state of pursuing a common and unselfish higher goal – specifically that of serving God. It follows that a society which is plagued by division and discrimination, where certain groups perceive that their voices, needs and aspirations are inadequately represented, can never be truly at ‘peace’. It can at best produce an illusory peace –a lack of violence generated by a tense and typically unstable compromise between conflicting rival interests rather than the positive harmonious peace that we pray regularly for God to bestow upon us.

Acts of Violence. Building upon the above definition of peace, it can be demonstrated that the uncritical conflation of the notions of peace and passivity may be naive and at times even dangerous. One conspicuous example of this was the vilification of Winston Churchill in the 1930s as a “warmonger” for his insistence that Britain should rearm in the face of a growing Nazi threat, while Neville Chamberlain was considered the “man of peace” when he sought to appease German aggression. Thus acts of violence performed in pursuit of a greater aim of true peace may be considered justifiable, or even – as in the case of Pinchas – be deserving of a ‘Covenant of Peace’.

Limitations on Violence. While Judaism is therefore not a pacifistic religion, biblical approval for violent actions and uprisings is extremely limited and qualified. We demonstrate how the zealotry displayed by Pinchas and Eliyahu was approved in times of extreme national emergencies such as the immorality at Shittim and the horrific lawlessness in the episode of the Concubine at Giveah. Nevertheless, such an approach and conduct was strongly condemned by God (and Rabbinic commentators) when adopted more broadly, particularly when it would lead to suffering of innocents (such as Eliyahu demanding that God bring a famine to punish the idolatrous Israelite kingdom).

Disavowal of Violence as an Ideal: Biblical recognition of the notion of a ‘Time for War’ should not be mistaken for a broader approval or idealisation of violence. While meekness and passivity in the face of evil can make one complicit in its perpetration, the acts of violence that one is forced to undertake in this context should themselves be regarded as a necessarily evil and certainly not celebrated or adopted as an appropriate way of life. We cite the writings of Netziv as to how even biblically approved occasions of violence were accompanied by blessings or covenants of peace for the perpetrators. Those engaged in acts of war, even where justified and necessary, are susceptible to becoming hardened and increasingly prone to commit future acts of violence.

Similarly, while the possession and use of deadly weaponry may sometimes be legitimate and even obligatory, the Torah is careful to distance ife-shortening swords from the altar of God and the hands of those who have spilt blood from the construction of his Mikdash. It is with this perspective that we anticipate and pray for a future era when humanity will realise the follies of its selfish pursuits of power and wealth and the warfare and bloodshed that they generate. Only in such a world can the Jewish ideal finally be realised in which discrimination and division will be set aside and all Peoples will turn to serve God with a common voice. In such a setting, nations will “beat their swords into ploughshares, and theirspears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more”.

First posted on Facebook 4 June 2020, here.

Is there really such a thing as "Jewish values"?

Ben-Gvir visiting Temple Mount. The treatment of gays in YU. Public debate and discourse in the Jewish world seem to be increasingly bombarding my news stream with heated arguments. Mimicking the polarised positions of today’s political parties, both sides of these debates will typically accuse the other of betraying “Jewish Values” – the strong implication being that their ideological opponents lack any legitimate place at the table of Jewish discussion.

Taking the examples that I’ve mentioned, neither side to these debates has any trouble summoning talmudic or biblical precedent in support of their arguments. There are sources which support asserting sovereignty, not provoking violence with neighbours, safeguarding sexual morality and concern for vulnerable individuals.

To my mind, when it comes to claiming “Jewish Values” and determining the correct course of action, one must do more than cite a loosely-relevant biblical episode. King Solomon taught us a fundamental lesson in the third chapter of Kohelet that “everything has its appointed season…a time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace”

The prophet Shmuel relayed God’s fury to King Shaul at his decision to show mercy and spare some of the defeated Amalekites. Yet in a later war, the prophet Elisha instructs the Israelite king to show mercy to captured Aramean soldiers – to feed them and return them to their country (Kings II 6:22). Rabbi Akiva and other sages supported the uprising of Bar Kochba; Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai risked his life to engage in peace negotiations with Roman invaders. In a similar vein, Talmudic sages were renowned (and sometimes criticised) for the great lengths to which they went to guard against the violation of ritual laws. Yet the same rabbis were scathing in their criticism of Rabbi Zecharia ben Avkulas for doing just this in the episode of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza.

“Jewish Values” means engaging in a process through which one allows oneself to be genuinely open to all of these conflicting considerations. To be concerned by the need to preserve sexual morality of the nation while at the same time feeling an intense sensitivity for the plight of those who suffer as a result of their orientation. To feel the pride of our recently reclaimed sovereignty over much of the land of Israel and the fervent wish to extend this to the entire land – while also being acutely aware of and seeking to minimise the suffering and plight that this causes to numerous individuals on the other side

We must be wary of people who assert a single “Jewish value” – an a priori elevation of a single concern – rather than a delicate attempt to determine how the range of legitimate values should be balanced in any particular situation. In yesterday’s Torah reading, the first three of Ya’akov’s sons received “blessings” which were in fact severe rebukes. Shimon and Levi, in particular, believed that they were acting upon Jewish values, justifying their violent rampage in Sodom – an “outrage which had been committed in Israel” – by asking “shall our sister be treated like a harlot?”. They might have found loose precedent for their actions in earlier episodes of the book of Bereishit: the immoral behaviour exhibited by Sodom and God’s punishment of Avimelech and Pharaoh for kidnapping Sara. Yet Ya’akov still harshly criticises their conduct: in their anger they were motivated only by a single “value” rather than being sensitive and weighing up competing “values”.

What is also notable is that, despite Ya’akov’s horrified reaction and rebuke, he does not exclude them from the fold – they all remain “sons of Ya’akov” whom he attempts to educate and rehabilitate.

The overarching message when it comes to defining and comparing Jewish values is that life is messy and produces challenges which force us to choose between certain ideals which we would normally prefer to embrace. “Jewish Values” require that we engage in a delicate process of trying to work out how competing legitimate values must be balanced in each particular situation and which compromise is the least painful option. Those who are genuinely involved in such a process will naturally distance themselves from strong absolutist comments – made by either side – which ignore the legitimate room for disagreement and demonise those who reach conclusions which are different to their own.

First posted on Facebook 8 January 2023, here.