The thin line between holiness and paganism

One of the most astounding and powerful passages of Torah commentary that I have come across relates to the nature of attributing holiness to physical objects – a central theme in parashat Terumah – and the acute danger that this can lead to mistaken pagan theology.

What, we might ask, is the holiest most Godly physical object that our nation has ever possessed?

Quite probably the luchot – the stone tablets which were “written with the finger of God” and were to reside in the Ark – at the center of the Mikdash. Yet we also find that, in the aftermath of the nation sinning with the golden calf, Moshe smashed these tablets before their eyes. According to the Midrash, God congratulated Moshe for doing so.

In his Meshech Chochma commentary to the Torah, Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk understands that the error that underpinned the sin of the golden calf was an inappropriate attribution of holiness and divinity to objects other than God. Rather than viewing Moshe as a channel through which they could receive God’s word and thereby worship Him, Moshe himself was deified. When Moshe was absent, they then sought to deify a golden calf in his place.

Perceiving this error, Moshe realised that were he to present them with the divinely-formed luchot at that moment, they would simply transfer this error onto the stone tablets and revere or worship them too. It was therefore necessary to smash the tablets in front of the people in order to vividly correct their mistaken theology. To teach them that objects and places are not inherently holy but only serve, in accordance with God’s commands, as a means for man to worship God. In the words of the Meshech Chochma:

“Do not think that the sanctuary and the Temple are holy objects in their own right. Far be it! God dwells among His people, and if they are like Adam who violated the covenant, all their sanctity is removed … In conclusion: there is nothing in the world which is holy … only God is holy … for nothing in creation is holy in itself, only in terms of the observance of the Torah in accordance with God’s will … All sanctity is due to a command that the Creator commanded [us] to worship Him.”

Importantly, the broken tablets were placed in the Ark of the Covenant at the very heart of the Mishkan and Mikdash (where ancient temples would typically place their idols) in order to emphasise the message that the constructed “House of God” did not bear inherent holiness.

Judaism Reclaimed explores this theme further in its analysis of the concept of Shechina, drawing upon and critiquing provocative statements of Yeshayahu Leibowitz, who claimed that the Western Wall ought to be destroyed as an idolatrous shrine.

A further application of this principle was related by R Alex Israel in his recent podcast episode (featuring Samuel I chap. 4 linked in the comments). The chapter in question describes the aftermath of an unsuccessful battle against the Philistines:

“And the people came to the camp, and the elders of Israel said, "Why has the Lord beaten us today before the Philistines? Let us take to us from Shiloh the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord, and He will come in our midst, and save us from the hand of our enemies."

Drawing on the context of the preceding chapters, in which we are told that the priests were violating the covenant of God, R Alex comments that it seems that the nation was relating to the ark with a pagan-orientated attitude. Judaism does not view sacred artefacts as possessing inherent magical powers through which its enemies can be vanquished. Rather the ark represents the covenantal relationship between God and His people. In the face of a national tragedy – such as the military setback which had occurred – the people are called upon to examine how well they are keeping their side of the covenant before demanding and expecting God’s protection. As the narrative continues to relate, God can look after His own ark – but His protection of the nation depends upon them remaining loyal to their side of the covenant.

By viewing the ark as inherently holy and possessing protective powers, they failed to take note of the message of the broken luchotinside it. Just as Moshe had sought to teach this lesson vividly in the desert by breaking the luchot in front of the people, God now imparts the same message:

“the Philistines waged war and Israel was beaten… and the Ark of God was captured.”

Humans are physical beings, and the Torah recognises the need to channel our relationship with God through the worldly dimensions of time and space and using objects and rituals. We must be constantly reminded, however, of the fundamental theological lesson which Moshe taught us by breaking the luchot– a lesson which was placed at the very heart of “God’s abode on Earth”.

First posted to Facebook 10 February 2023, here.

Uman Rosh Hashana: revenge of the pagans?

The annual pilgrimage to Uman raises powerful feelings and passionate arguments from advocates and critics alike. Further debate over the advisability of mass international travel during a pandemic has brought the debate into particularly strong focus for the coming Rosh Hashana.

In this eloquent podcast (linked at the end), Mordechai Ish-Yemini presents a biting theological critique of the legitimacy of praying at Rebbi Nachman’s grave. Ish-Yemini starts by listing several commonly-cited criticisms of the pilgrimage: 

*the appropriateness of leaving one’s family for the festival

*leaving Israel to worship at a holy site abroad

*the easy availability of drugs and prostitution nearby

*funding anti-semitic Ukrainians (with money that is sometimes collected as charity)

The podcast considers these arguments somewhat worthy, though not entirely compelling. Instead, Ish-Yemini focuses his attention on how Jewish tradition views acts of worship at graves. 

Judaism Reclaimed analyses, based on the writings of Rabbi S. R. Hirsch, how worship at the Mikdash is distanced from any association with death, and performed “during daylight and in a state of sobriety…stark contrast to the atmosphere of darkness, mystery and fear which would typically prevail in pagan temples”. Ish-Yemini takes this much further, arguing that turning to the dead for information and guidance in acts of worship forms part of a widespread primitive practice which the Torah sought to outlaw with its prohibitions against necromancy and idolatrous rites. 

The Torah is obsessed with detailed laws which distance any person or object deemed impure by association with death from Mikdash worship. Religious acts of worship at a grave are also severely curtailed in the Talmud (Berachot 18a) – albeit for other reasons. 

A second line of criticism presented by Ish-Yemini examines the whole religious approach centred around being saved by a person, or promoting salvation through faith in a human being. This notion, he argues, more strongly resembles Christian doctrine than Judaism’s focus on each person’s individual connection to God through personal merit and performance of commandments.  

These sorts of ideologies offer a seductive simplicity. Judaism Reclaimed cites and develops Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s critique in Halakhic Man of the vacuous spirituality of the commonly perceived “religious man” which has been allowed to creep into Judaism. This popular ideology, according to R. Soloveitchik, contends that religion is a tranquil and enchanted stream of utopian simplicity into which embittered souls and troubled spirits can cast themselves as an escape from the rational doubts, contradictions and turbulence of reality. In a similar vein, Ish-Yemini attributes Uman’s growing popularity to the powerful human impulse to seek simple, magical solutions – such as propitious places, people and special words to utter – to complex, real world problems. These solutions are typified by the much-publicised promise that Rebbi Nachman will pull pilgrims from Gehinnom by their payot [sidelocks]. 

Does Ish-Yemini go too far? Judaism Reclaimed emphasises the need to respect the experiential side of Judaism alongside its intellectual dimension (see pp 4-5 in the sample here). Is this podcast correct in asserting that the pilgrimage and worship at Uman has swung too far in the opposite direction – allowing subjective spiritual pursuit to undermine the Torah’s core theological foundations?  

This group would welcome a well-argued response to Ish-Yemini’s claims in this podast.

First posted on Facebook 15 August 2021.

Why the Shlissel Challah Killjoys?

It’s that time of year and Maimonideans seem to be at it again. My social media is full of seemingly sensible pushbacks: “if you don’t want to make the key-shaped Schlissel-Challah fine – why vilify and criticize a practice that others find meaningful and inspiring?” 

n a few short weeks we’ll be faced with a similar showdown – between those who find great spiritual meaning in Lag BeOmer bonfires and others who point to Talmudic sources that include dancing round fires in a list of forbidden pagan-type practices. Uman-pilgrimages, red strings, Reb Shayale prayers and segullot– the list goes on…

What is it about these seemingly harmless practices that makes many Jews uncomfortable and motivates them to protest so vehemently? 

Admittedly for some there may be an element of superiority complex which leads them to suppose that their “rational thought-through” approach to Judaism is inherently better and more sophisticated than the “uncultivated uneducated superstitious” practices of others. But for those who truly understand the worldview of Rambam (and those Geonim-Rishonim who share his approach) the matter is far deeper – it goes to the very heart of what Judaism stands for. 

The universe we inhabit, to an untrained human mind, is a chaotic and confusing place. Human nature is guided by primal fears and a powerful imagination to identify numerous existential threats and dangers at every turnn, and to perceive a pagan system of forces and powers that are seen to lie behind them. Rambam, in his opening chapter of Hilchot Avoda Zara (and elsewhere) describes how pagans looked up to the heavens and imagined the celestial bodies as multiple competing sources of power that toyed malevolently with helpless humans. 

These imaginary powers, further propelled by dark human fears, were gradually developed into more complex belief systems with accompanying modes of worship of and appeasing these predatory forces. The celestial bodies were represented by symbols, talisman and temples, and methods of worship were concocted – some of which involved extreme acts of cruelty and immorality. Torturing and sacrificing children in the belief that the tears would prompt the “rain gods” to shower abundance, licentiousness and appalling acts of sexual abuse visited upon virgin girls – often by priests in temples – in the belief that this would generate blessing from the gods of fertility. 

Omens and divinations are almost limitless when the human mind is guided primarily by the imagination rather than rational intellect. The pagan mind could easily lead itself to imagine that success or failure had been caused (rather than correlated with) an encounter with specific animals or the recitation of a magic formula to an idol. Even in modern times there are those who insert imaginary meaning into the patterns found in stars, tarot cards, crystals, animal entrails and the palms of people’s hands and alter their conduct accordingly.

Judaism Reclaimed describes how the Torah’s most basic and fundamental function, according to Rambam, is the repudiation of this imagination-based way of perceiving the world as pagans did (and to an extent continue to do). Avraham Avinu is the “Founding Father” of the Torah’s monotheistic revolution. He looked at the same universe as did the polytheists and instead perceived with his intellect a cohesive and comprehensive system – all created and coordinated by a single supreme Deity. As depicted in the Midrash, while Nimrod proposes that each natural force in turn be deified, worshipped and appeased, Avraham firmly refuses to recognize such a chaotic pantheon of rival natural forces, seeking instead the single Supreme Power that instituted and governs them.  

The Torah, which was revealed to Avraham’s descendants, contained a set of laws designed to wean them away from pagan imagination-led thinking and fortify them against the sorts of superstitious practices that this led to. In the parshiyot we are currently reading, we are repeatedly commanded not to copy the type of actions that the Egyptians and Canaanites pursued; the Chukkat HaGoyim of the surrounding nations. Not to seek out and follow imagined omens, magic, necromancy and divinations but to “be perfect with Hashem your God”. A later parashah even prohibits bringing idolatrous objects and symbols into one’s home: as explained by Rishonim this recognizes the overwhelming tendency of the human imagination to attribute success or failure to ritual objects and subsequently develop religiously meaningful beliefs and practices around them.

The system of commandments devised by the Torah to replace pagan beliefs and rituals is a strict legal system rather than a loose collection of imagination-led rituals. Some of these commandments, such as sacrifices, are explicitly described as being intended to guide the people away from pagan practice:

“the kohen shall dash the blood upon the altar of the Lord at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting…And they shall no longer slaughter their sacrifices to the satyrs after which they stray.” (Vayikra 17:6-7).

Others such as Tzitzit and Tefillin are commanded, in the Torah’s own telling, in order to ensure collective recollection of key national historical and religious occasions. Crucially, there is little scope for individuals to alter these commandments based on their imagination – adding a passage to the Tefillin or changing details of a korban invalidates the commandment and is often an additional prohibition in its own right.

In contrast to the pagan cults with their emphasis on imagined rituals to appease and bribe the gods in order to achieve worldly success, the Tanakh and its prophets consistently taught that it is a relationship with God and mirroring His path of righteousness, justice and kindness which are of primary importance. Yeshayahu repeatedly railed against those who oppressed and ill-treated the weak yet thought their ritual observance bore any significance to God. Shabbat, korbanot and fasting, he maintained, are all meaningless until one feeds and clothes the poor and brings them into one’s home.

So returning to Shlissel Challah and its ilk. Even if it cannot be proven to have pagan origins or to have been unwittingly developed to mirror Easter key-breads which symbolize belief in the resurrection of Jesus. Even if there is no association between Lag BeOmer bonfires and the pagan circling-fire practices alluded to by the Tosefta – they still represent to many the antithesis rather than the goal of Judaism.

By elevating the importance of uncommanded and non-understood rituals. By imagining that key-shaped bread rituals (rather than observance of God’s commandments) can bring financial success and blessing they are seen as subverting the Torah’s message and project. Closer to “Bechukotaihem lo telechu [in their statutes you shall not walk]” and further from what Jewish observance should represent: “Chochmatchem uvinatchem be’einei ha’amim [your wisdom and discernment in the eyes of the nations]”.

First posted on Facebook 5 May 2024