I posted a few months ago in great anticipation of Joshua Berman’s new work on biblical criticism, historical truth and the Thirteen Principles of Faith. The book has certainly not disappointed: the first half is a comprehensive and highly accessible summary of much of Berman’s earlier work on biblical criticism, while the second investigates the content and application of Rambam’s Thirteen Principles. Many of the ideas contained within the first half – such as the need to view the Torah through the ancient Near-Eastern eyes of its first recipients – feature prominently in Judaism Reclaimed, where I integrate a number of Berman’s ideas into my chapters which address some of the challenges to the Torah from the halls of academia. This post will therefore focus on some of the engrossing material contained within the second half of Ani Maamin.
Orthodox Judaism’s embrace of Rambam’s Thirteen Principles and the implications for those who fall foul of them have been a popular subject in recent years, particularly in light of Prof. Marc Shapiro’s provocative Limits of Orthodox Theology fifteen years ago. That work sought to demonstrate the extent of Rabbinic dispute over core elements of Rambam’s principles. Berman’s analysis builds impressively on much of this material, presenting some thought-provoking original suggestions.
Studies of fundamental Jewish beliefs will often highlight the fact that the Torah itself contains no such catechism, the implication being that these required beliefs are therefore a later innovation. Continuing the theme from the first section of his book however, Berman provides his own unique and illuminating perspective on the subject: while all of the cultures of the ancient Near East were deeply religious and held numerous beliefs, none of the mass of religious texts unearthed by archaeologists have ever produced a basic list of beliefs (or even a term which could convey such beliefs). Berman draws upon the analogy of a marriage to argue that the thought systems of such societies were an integral part of their daily life, nurtured and clarified not through abstract articulation but through lived experience. The introduction of catechism to Jewish literature, he continues, was largely a medieval response to the aggressive Christian and Muslim societies in which Jews resided. Berman uses the example of belief in Torah from Heaven to demonstrate how the various pressures brought to bear by these societies led to the Principles being framed with different emphases.
“Beliefs matter and they matter halakhically”. Berman stresses the importance underlying determination of heretical beliefs in that they can invalidate shechitah (among other things) performed by one who holds such a view. This is an important rejection of the suggestion that Rambam would have considered that debates concerning correct belief are not subject to psak(halachic resolution) since they are not of a practical halachic nature. Much of the rest of the book explores how various Rabbinic authorities have approached the task of determining the boundary between acceptable and heretical beliefs. This is no simple task since, as Berman demonstrates, Rambam’s own presentation of the Thirteen Principles (part of his Commentary on the Mishnah) is far more detailed and restrictive than their presentation in his later and more authoritative Mishneh Torah. The gulf between Rambam’s presentation of required beliefs in the Thirteen Principles and Mishneh Torah is shown to be most pronounced with regard to the eighth principle, belief in Torah from Heaven. While the Thirteen Principles state unequivocally that every word of the Torah was dictated by God to Moshe, Hilchot Teshuvah contains the looser formulation that “one who says Torah, even one verse or one word, is not from God” is a heretic.
In addressing this difficulty, Berman introduces a distinction which is central to Rambam’s understanding of the nature and transmission of the halachic system. As I develop in Judaism Reclaimedin the context of Rabbinic dispute over principles of faith, Rambam makes a key delineation between ikkarim mekubalim (core tenets of mitzvot) which, he believes, were transmitted faithfully and without dispute from Sinai, and peratim (finer details) which were left to the Rabbis of each generation to determine. Accordingly, Berman argues, the Thirteen Principles in his Commentary to the Mishna are a reflection of Rambam’s own determination from Talmudic sources that each word of the Torah was indeed dictated to Moshe. In his more abstract legal work, however, Rambam was not prepared to establish as a required belief a matter which Jewish tradition records as a disputed non-ikkar. This is because of a Tannaic opinion that the final verses of the Torah were transcribed by Yehoshuah. The existence of this opinion means that the belief in Mosaic authorship of every word in the Torah could not belong to the body of core undisputed ikkarim which were transmitted from Sinai.
While I particularly enjoyed this suggested solution for resolving the inconsistency between the Thirteen Principles and Mishneh Torah, my only slight disappointment is that the book does not develop this suggestion further. Certainly, in my reading of the subsequent chapters, this idea kept popping back into my mind. To what extent could it be used to explain the way in which later authorities – comprehensively recorded by Berman – presented their own variations of Rambam’s Principles while remaining broadly loyal to the original underlying theme? Is there perhaps a broader principle at play in which Rambam’s Commentary to the Mishnah represents more his personal interpretations while the Mishneh Torah reflects his understanding of the correct halachic determination?
This delineation between core ikkarim and peratimdetails could perhaps even illuminate Berman’s provocative closing chapter. There he convincingly argues that a key function of later fluctuating formulations of Rambam’s Principles was sociological: to serve as an effective boundary marker between loyal members and those who were straying too far from the religious community. Could it be suggested on this basis that the principles of faith consist of two interwoven categories? A combination of core ‘basic truths’, denial of which would be seen by Rambam as automatically severing one’s connection with God, and the finer rabbinically-determined details which could fulfil functions such as boundary-markers (notably, Rambam also condemns those who “separate from the ways of the community” as losing their share in the World to Come).
To conclude, Ani Maamin is a book which challenges its readers and opens up new channels of thought and exploration rather than demanding adherence to fixed conclusions. In that way it can be said to mirror its own author’s depiction of the role of Rambam’s Thirteen Principles within Jewish theology.
First posted on Facebook 25 April 2020, here.
