Chosen models and model societies

The notion of chosenness – that God selected one preferred nation from the entire humanity – is a central theme that runs through the Torah. Taking a step back this is not a simple concept to understand: why would God have sought only one nation to be the bearers of His word?

Judaism Reclaimed tackles this topic in several of its chapters, starting with parashat Noach. The sin of Adam and Eve, understood in various ways by the classic commentators, impacted humanity and its ability to perceive and relate to God. Midrashim indicate that the role of the Torah was to guide mankind back to its previously idyllic state in the Garden of Eden. This, however, would be no quick fix.

In order for humanity to succeed in this new stage, it needed to form and maintain a viable society which could allow it to receive and transmit these laws and teachings which God wished to reveal. The formation of such a community, which could become loyal to God, is of particular importance in the approach to religion taken in the Kuzari and Rabbi S. R. Hirsch; both emphasise the vital importance of collectively experienced revelation in the process of establishing a reliable tradition of knowledge of God.

Parashat Noach proceeds to record the initial failed efforts to accommodate this new mission, first in Noach’s generation and then many centuries later at the Tower of Babel, failures which would lead to a further restructuring of the divine plan for humanity. Noach lived in the tenth generation after the Creation, halfway between Adam and Eve, who had squandered the opportunities initially afforded by their privileged status, and Avraham who sought and rediscovered God.

In the first chapter of the Kuzari, R’ Yehudah Halevi relates that, in the 20 generations between Adam and Avraham, there was a steady supply of righteous individuals who taught this new mission with which humanity had been charged. However, these individuals were unable to influence the world around them by spreading this message and building a society based upon its values.

Rav Hirsch understands parashat Noach to be describing the first attempts of mankind to develop a universal cohesive community which could potentially have fulfilled this function of collectively receiving and reliably transmitting God’s word. Noach's generation failed as a society because of the selfishness of individuals. A midrashdescribes how people deviously stole amounts that were so trivially small that they would be beneath the lower limit for invoking the jurisdiction of the courts. This is the kind of underhanded greed that erodes societal cohesion, nullifying the benefits conferred by the community.

The attempt of the generation of the Tower of Babel to build a community, by contrast, suffered from the opposite problem, placing an over-emphasis on the interests of the community at the expense of the individual. Another midrash depicts vividly how this apparently unified and caring society was more concerned with the loss of building materials than by the death of any of its individual members. Rav Hirsch derives from a close reading of the Torah’s text the notion that the Tower of Babel was intended as a monument to the absolute importance of the community. But this was a community which crushed rather than enhanced the potential of its individuals in a manner which may remind the modern reader of the 20th century societies that sought to enforce the collective principles of Communism.

These failures to construct a society which could advance humanity's mission resulted, writes Rav Hirsch, in the fragmentation of the world's population into a multiplicity of nations, each with its own language and culture.

In an ideal world, mankind would have served God collectively as a single unified society. After the failure of the generation of the flood, however, and God’s assurance that mankind would never again face annihilation, the world's population had to be dispersed and then kept apart, thereby removing its potential to deserve a second collective fate. God therefore fortified his promise to Noach by introducing a significant change of nature, as the world splintered into distinct countries, climates and continents. As R’ Hirsch eloquently put it:

“Never again does God want to destroy mankind. Rather, He wants to educate humanity through its experiences, to self-knowledge and knowledge of God. Nevermore will mankind as a whole be allowed to sink to the ultimate depths of degradation reached by the generation that had perished. Therefore, mankind must be dispersed, lest the human species, gradually spreading over the earth, constitute but one single family, in which corruption festering at one end would quickly infect the whole… In order for this educational plan to be possible, the earth emerged from its devastation in a different form, diversified in climate and soil, intersected by a web of seas and rivers, mountains and deserts.”

This disintegration of the previously united world community was completed by the split of languages and cultures following the failure at the Tower of Babel. Following this geophysical and cultural realignment, fulfilment of man’s mission would now necessarily be reassigned to one specific group, and the Avot succeeded in forging the only nation that was both sufficiently interested and suited to this task.

The dispersion of human civilisation across a wide range of places and cultures may have prevented a repeat of the flood’s devastation, but it also correspondingly lowered mankind’s potential for perfection. Rambam describes in numerous places how peace and justice are prerequisites if people are to be able to focus on developing their character and intellect to achieve the restoration of Gan Eden’s ‘ultimate perfection’. The natural consequence of this fragmentation, however, was to create rivalry and warfare, which would inevitably disrupt the efforts of any single society to fulfil mankind’s mission.

First posted to Facebook 23 October 2022, here.

Locating the Flood: Is there a licence to reread early biblical narratives?

By Daniel Abraham and Shmuli Phillips

In a chapter which explores some of the complex challenges posed by science to understanding the Torah, Judaism Reclaimed notes the approach taken by Rambam to similar difficulties in his day. Faced with what were considered in medieval times to be decisive arguments against the doctrine of ex-nihilo creation, Rambam – echoing Rabbi Yehuda Halevi in the Kuzari – works with a principle that the Torah cannot be interpreted in a way which contradicts matters which are clearly proven. It is notable, however, that Rambam set the bar for reinterpreting the Torah based on scientific knowledge particularly high, and did not ultimately endorse a re-evaluation of the Torah’s opening passages on the basis of Aristotelian science.

When we examine the Torah’s accounts of early humanity – and particularly its accounts of the flood – in the modern era, we are assailed by an array of basic challenges to its literal reading. Scientific theories and accepted wisdom based on geology, paleontology, zoology among other disciplines combine to present a formidable barrier to the Torah’s narrative. Had Rambam and Rabbi Yehuda Halevi been living in the 21stcentury, we might ask ourselves, at what point might they have considered this body of evidence sufficiently persuasive to justify reinterpreting the opening parshiyot of the Torah? Furthermore, are there any existing indications within our tradition which might support such an attempt?

With regard to the creation narrative, our tradition explicitly regards it as esoteric and containing profound secrets which go far beyond its simple meaning. These traditional teachings could be taken to support a radical – possibly even allegorical – rereading in view of modern scientific knowledge. Turning our attention to the flood, however, our tradition does not appear to regard the passage as being esoteric or bearing a hidden meaning. What can be found though are scattered teachings which seem to limit its scope from a worldwide deluge to something significantly more local – a position advanced by Rabbi Dovid Tzvi Hoffman in his Torah commentary.

One of the first midrashim that grabs our attention is from Midrash Tehillim. When God was deciding which mountain to give the Torah on, Mount Tabor speaks up and says “The Torah should be given on me because the water of the flood did not descend on me.” (Midrash Tehillim 68:9). Elsewhere in Bereishit Rabbah 33 we read about the flood not raining upon the entire land of Israel. Zevachim 113a says this as well – a particularly significant source because it is located in a legal rather than an aggadic passage.

Ramban also adds that it’s possible that the rains did not fall upon the oceans as the Torah specifies “The rain was upon the land”. Other opinions go further and state the flood did not affect all parts of the earth. Meam Lo’ez writes how the great ocean, “was not affected by the flood, which only destroyed inhabited areas. The Torah therefore says, “there was rain on the earth” (ha’aretz) (7:12), and not, “there was rain on the world” (ha’olam). [The “earth” primarily denotes inhabited areas.] In his book The Challenge of Creation, Rabbi Natan Slifkin also notes, “Rav Saadia Gaon’s view [was] that the Deluge only covered inhabited parts of the world.” Rabbi Yonatan Eybeshutz goes into more detail, explaining that the flood was not necessary in uninhabited areas. He also writes that if the Americas had no population at the time of the flood, then no flood would have occurred on the continent (Tiferet Yonatan to Bereishit 8:22). So although the Torah states that all the mountains on earth were covered with the flood, there are opinions that this was not a literal depiction.

When we turn our attention to early humans and civilisations, further indications can be found of human (or proto-human) civilization beyond the primary biblical narrative. After slaying his brother Hevel, Kayin is condemned by God to wander to distant lands whereupon he is worried that “I will be a wanderer and an exile in the land, and it will be that whoever finds me will kill me” (4:14). If the entire human population is represented by those named in the Torah, this concern is not easy to understand. Furthermore, having gone into exile far away from Eden, Kayin proceeds to build a city – for whom might one ask?

Other categories of ancient human mentioned in chapter 6 of Bereishit appear to include the Nephilim (“mighty men of old”) and perhaps also the benei Elohim who corrupt early humanity and are noted as a cause for its descent into the depravity that prompted the flood.

Further sources indicate that groups of these Nephilim survived the flood. Some identify Og as one of the Nephilim who was allowed to be saved by ark during the flood. Other midrashim say that Sichon was another of the Nephilim who survived as well. From the text of the Torah we see that both Sichon and Og had sons, and that the Israelites slew both of these giants and their children with them. Perhaps most significantly, in Bemidbar 13:33 Rav S. R. Hirsch writes about the “Anakim” observed by the spies: “Thus there were still remnants of the antedeluvian Nephilim living in Eretz Yisrael. This fact fits well with the opinion (Zevachim 113a) that Eretz Yisrael was spared from the flood.” The implication being that there were people who survived the flood in Eretz Yisrael. The Zohar also makes reference to descendants of Kayin surviving the flood in a distant land.

If it is true then that human society existed well beyond the Torah’s limited descriptions and that the flood only covered a local area of Mesopotamia, why would it have presented its early narratives in such a misleading manner?

The answer to this requires us to recognize that the Torah is not primarily a historical work but rather a religious text which seeks to provide a foundation and insight into the nature of humanity and our relationship with God. As Rabbi Sacks put it, this does not mean that the Torah conveys untruths, but rather that it presents actual historical events through the prism of its theological teachings (https://www.rabbisacks.org/.../individual-and.../...).

God’s relationship with humanity begins with Adam and Eve – the first creatures whose minds are sufficiently sophisticated to rationalize and think abstractly. As Rambam writes near the start of Moreh Nevuchim, the whole notion of commandments, reward and punishment only makes sense when one is instructing someone who can understand right and wrong and possesses the free will to apply it. Interestingly, the first humans who are believed to have been sufficiently mentally developed to create a system of writing – putting ideas and concepts into symbols – lived 6,000 years ago in Mesopotamia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_writing).

This was the society and “world” that the Torah was interested in; it therefore only obliquely references the existence of other groups of humans. Similarly, as far as the area of the planet that was of relevance to the Torah’s project at that time, the flood effectively encompassed the “entire world” and the ark contained “all animals”. As another chapter of Judaism Reclaimed demonstrates, while other ancient Near Eastern cultures proceeded to relate this flood through the eyes of their polytheistic prejudices, the Torah retold it instead with its own theological underpinning: monotheism, morality and justice.

Whatever extent one finds such an approach compelling or even desirable, we believe that it can legitimately claim solid basis within traditional sources, and is the leading candidate for those seeking to reconcile the Torah’s account with what science tells us today about ancient history.

First posted on Facebook, 30 October 2022, here.

Religion and culture: not throwing the Greeks out with the bathwater

While Chanukah correctly commemorates the miraculous battlefield exploits of the outnumbered Maccabeans, our tradition also emphasises the ideological dynamics which underpinned this military victory. Unlike most other peoples swallowed up by the rapacious Greek-Hellenist Empire, the Jews found themselves on the wrong end of severe religious prohibitions. The Book of Maccabees details how the Syrian-Greek monarch, Antiochus, criminalized the observance of circumcision, Shabbat and holidays, dietary laws, and many other practices. He also placed an idol in the Jewish Temple so “that they [the Jews] might forget the Law and change all their religious ordinances”.

While this ideological clash between Jews and Hellenists has been seized on by some commentators who perceive an eternal struggle between Judaism and “secular culture”, Judaism Reclaimed develops Rabbi S. R. Hirsch’s thoughtful and nuanced explanation of the ideal interplay between religion and culture, and how this was not realised in the Hellenist-Chanukah era.

R' Hirsch’s builds his account upon an early passage of the Torah. Shortly after the floodwaters have subsided, Noach embarks upon a session of heavy drinking which leaves him lying exposed, provoking contrasting reactions from his sons Shem, Cham and Yafet. While Cham mocks – and according to some midrashim abuses – his helpless father, Yafet allows himself to be guided by Shem to recover their father’s dignity. Noach wakes (and presumably sobers) up and pronounces “the most profound and far-reaching vision of the future that God ever permitted a mortal to behold or utter”.

“Cursed be Canaan, may he be a servant of servants to his brothers… Blessed be God the God of Shem...God will broaden/open up [through] Yafet and he should dwell in the tents of Shem...”

While this passage has sometimes been approached – by Jewish and Christian commentaries alike – as foretelling and even justifying African slavery, Ibn Ezra strongly opposed this interpretation. How do these commentaries, he writes, ignore the fact that the first line of powerful kings after the Flood, including the fearsome and powerful Nimrod, were descendants of Cham?

This paves the way for R Hirsch’s approach which understands that Noach’s words concerning his sons represent three distinct ideologies and traits which individuals – and even nations – can display. These verses contain Noach’s fervent wish and guidance to the various nations which would descend from his sons as to how their national traits can be channelled toward spiritual accomplishment:

Cham (literally “hot”) represents the height of unrestrained “burning” physical power and desire which respects neither spiritual nor intellectual values. As a result, those possessing such a personality descend into a form of slavery, unable to free themselves from their desires and primal passion.

Yafet (literally “beauty” (yofi) or “openness” - liftoach) connotes the ability of emotion to make one “open” or appreciative of external impressions and influences. Yafet’s culture, seen most strongly with the Greeks, embodies the ability of the arts to elevate and uplift raw physicality.

Shem (literally “name”) represents intellectual clarity and the potential connection to God that this brings (“God of Shem”). The ability to assign a name to something indicates a clear perception of its inner nature and function. When Adam, in Gan Eden, names the animals it is not a matter of simple convenience to distinguish between various species of wildlife. But is seen by many commentaries as representing a profound understanding of their nature and essence. A form of wisdom which transcends the physical world.

It is crucial to note that R’ Hirsch understands Noach’s words to his sons be referring to traits and ideologies rather than strict biological descent. So, for example, while the cultured Germans of the 19th century would have been viewed by R Hirsch as prime embodiments of Yafet, their 20th century murderous descendants were unquestionably a powerful expression of Cham.

Noach’s prophecy was uttered at the dawn of civilization. Surveying human history in the last 4,000 years we can trace, in retrospect, the influence of these three forces through the development of humanity. To summarize Rav Hirsch’s theory, many nations have risen and fallen throughout human history, their only contribution being their attempts to control the world by harnessing human ability and potential to the goal of destruction, exploitation, and domination of others. The whole aspiration of such nations of “Cham” is power, brute force, tyranny, coupled with a submission to their own basic urges.

But there are other nations that devote their energies more to beauty, art, and aesthetics. Those cultures which have represented or been primarily influenced by the characteristics of “Yafet” recognize that there is a higher ideal to which mankind must ascend, valuing beauty and elegance over raw physicality. The trait of Yafet must play a crucial role in refining the physicality of Cham, using art and aesthetics to develop an acceptance and eventually an appreciation of more transcendent concepts. Once people have become aware of and able to appreciate matters which lie above raw physicality they can then be led towards the more spiritual message and truths of “Shem”.

According to R’ Hirsch, the intellectual and moral clarity of Shem demonstrates that Yafet’s glorification of pleasure and satisfaction through beauty, culture and refinement should not be humanity’s highest aspiration. Instead, there must be a more noble ideal — a recognition of what is inherently good and true. Such truths are provided by the intellectual and spiritual clarity of “Shem,” who embodies the teachings and values of the “God of Shem”.

Shem teaches God’s views of the world and humanity. How humans are created in God’s image, and must be guided and elevated by God’s wisdom and teachings. This in contrast to the Greek approach in which humans build gods in their own image by deifying their own flawed ideas of beauty, strength and wisdom.

It is an important feature of R’ Hirsch’s approach that the traits and ideologies of Yafet are viewed neither as inherently good nor inherently harmful. The art and aesthetics are a powerful tool which, when used correctly, can enhance the religious truths of Shem and enable them to be more easily understood. In such a scenario – as with Noach’s sons – Yafet is allowing himself to be guided by Shem subjecting himself to the influence and teachings of Shem.

Rav Hirsch traces these ideas through early human history until the era of the Greeks. He uses this to shed further light on the greater significance of the Chanukah story and its ideological dimension.

Yafet’s ability to open people’s minds and make them appreciative of greater ideas can be used positively in the service of the truths of Shem. In the era of the Chanukah story however, the aesthetic and artistic aspects of Yafet were being allied to a Cham-like imperial and tyrannical war machine which sought to control and impose itself violently on the truths of Shem. Once the ideology and traits of Yafet are no longer submitting themselves to the guidance of Shem’s truths and teachings they lose their legitimacy and, particularly when combined with the violence of Cham, can become a dangerous threat to Judaism.

This is why – despite Noach’s indication that Yafet has a lot of positives to offer humanity – the Jews and Hellenists faced off in a bitter ideological struggle. When Yafet is not prepared to reside and be guided by the truths of Shem. When human-created conceptions of culture and refinement are seen as an ultimate goal for humanity as with the Hellenistic transformation of human characteristics into godly attributes. This puts Yafet and so-called “secular culture” on a collision course with the truths of the God of Shem which teach God’s perspective and thoughts of mankind, morality and human endeavour.

Judaism Reclaimed develops these ideas in a more modern context with the 20th century phenomena of the cultured tyranny of Nazi Germany (Cham and Yafet) and the Religious tyranny of Islamic State (Cham and Shem).

First posted to Facebook 13 December 2020, here