What if man was one of us? The most perplexing verse in the Torah

Parashat Bereishit contains one of the most perplexing verses in the entire Torah, the difficulty of which is compounded by the fact that two of our earliest sources read it in entirely different ways.

In the aftermath of Adam and Eve’s sin in Gan Eden, God declares:

הֵ֤ן הָֽאָדָם֙ הָיָה֙ כְּאַחַ֣ד מִמֶּ֔נּוּ לָדַ֖עַת ט֣וֹב וָרָ֑ע וְעַתָּ֣ה | פֶּן־יִשְׁלַ֣ח יָד֗וֹ וְלָקַח֙ גַּ֚ם מֵעֵ֣ץ הַֽחַיִּ֔ים וְאָכַ֖ל וָחַ֥י לְעֹלָֽם

"Behold man has become like one of us, having the ability of knowing good and evil, and now, lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever".

Or does He?

The above translation is favoured by Rashi and Ibn Ezra, and is consistent with the cantillation which is traditionally accorded to Ezra. Remarkably, however, Targum Onkelos – an Aramaic translation of the Torah from the Tannaitic era which the Talmud understands to trace back to Sinai – reads these words very differently:

הָא אָדָם הֲוָה יְחִידַי בְּעַלְמָא מִנֵּהּ לְמִידַע טַב וּבִישׁ

“Behold man has become unique in the world, by himself can know good and evil…”

Onkelos’s rendering of this verse is consistent with Rambam’s understanding of his agenda – not simply translating the Torah but also carefully ensuring that it cannot be mistakenly interpreted in a manner that he deems heretical. Rather than reading the verse as God describing Himself as a plurality which might include humanity, a meaning that introduces all sorts of theological complications, Onkelos places the sentence’s pause on the word “ke’achad”. Humanity is therefore described as unique among creatures in its ability to determine right and wrong.

Unsurprisingly, Onkelos’s reading of this verse is adopted by Rambam in Hilchot Teshuva (5:1), and cited as part of his discussion regarding human free will:

“Free will is granted to all men. If one desires to turn himself to the path of good and be righteous, the choice is his. Should he desire to turn to the path of evil and be wicked, the choice is his.

This is [the intent of] the Torah's statement: " Behold man has become unique in the world, by himself can know good and evil," i.e., the human species became singular in the world with no other species resembling it in the following quality: that man can, on his own initiative, with his knowledge and thought, know good and evil, and do what he desires. There is no one who can prevent him from doing good or bad. Accordingly, [there was a need to drive him from the Garden of Eden,] "lest he stretch out his hand [and take from the tree of life]."

Yet even once this verse is interpreted within the context of free will, its purpose and intent remain very unclear. Rambam proceeds to argue that free will is a fundamental pillar upon which the Torah relies. If people were compelled to act a certain way, he explains, there would be no place for God revealing a set of rules which would be the basis for reward and punishment.

But surely all that is required to justify commands, reward and punishment is that people are not compelled and can freely to choose whether to follow God’s word? Is it really necessary to bring in this verse to imply that humans also possess their autonomous moral compass to evaluate right and wrong? Would Rambam not expect a person to obey God’s law even in a situation in which he or she does not understand them to be morally correct?

One discussion that this verse might shed light on is the status of those who have not been exposed to the Torah or even the seven Noachide laws which are sometimes suggested to represent a basic universal moral code. There is no explicit mention of God revealing any set of laws to humanity prior to the Sinai revelation. Nevertheless, it is apparent that God expects certain minimal standards of moral conduct and punishes those such as the generation of the flood and citizens of Sodom for their corruption, cruelty and immorality. Indeed, Rambam in Hilchot Melachim (8:10) seems to consider Noachide laws to be binding upon all non-Jews. Perhaps the justification for this arises from Onkelos and Rambam’s interpretation of this verse to imply that humanity possesses its own moral compass and is therefore responsible for its own actions even without any form of divine command?

Many further perplexing questions remain. How, for example, do Onkelos and Rambam explain the cryptic continuation of the verse – that humanity’s newfound moral compass poses a danger “lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever”? And is this interpretation to be reconciled with Rambam’s interpretation of the Eden episode found in an early chapter of Moreh Nevuchim, in which “tov vera” represent the negative result of Adam and Eve’s sin – the corruption of their previous praised ability to perceive absolute truths (emet vasheker)?

One possible explanation is that, according to Rambam, humanity’s moral compass in its post-sin state could now also go very badly wrong due to it having internalised harmful imaginative and emotive elements. It is noteworthy that Rambam also follows Onkelos in rendering the Serpent’s promise to Eve as being that:

“on the day that you eat thereof, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like political leaders (ravravei), knowing tov vera."

In this new post-sin scenario, in which the human mind could concoct and persuade itself of the merits of destructive political philosophies such as communism or fascism, a safety valve of mortality had to be placed within its societies. No dictator could be allowed to enslave a society perpetually. God was now therefore concerned “lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever”.

First posted on Facebook 19 October 2022, here.

Does the Torah recognise the existence of other Gods?

The parashah we read yesterday features phrases which appear to recognise gods other than the God of the Torah. First, Yitro declare that “YHVH is greater than all the Elohim” then the second of the Commandments requires that “you shall have no other gods before me”. Verses such as these have led to claims in certain quarters (see link at the end) that the Torah’s system of belief is most correctly labelled “Monolatrism” – demanding belief of a single God while recognising the existence of multiple deities.

How might traditional Judaism respond to such a claim? Does the Torah’s use of the term “El” in reference to God imply any sort of recognition of ancient Canaanite religion with its pantheon of deities headed by the supreme “El” creator-god?

The Torah’s very first mention of God at the start of the Creation narrative presents Him in terminology which raises questions. “El-ohim” can be seen to contain the Canaanite term for a deity while also appearing to take on a plural form (albeit following a singular verb “bara”).

Rabbi S. R. Hirsch examines this term in the context of what is often considered to be Torah’s primary agenda – negating pagan belief and practice. R’ Hirsch notes how paganism fragments the natural world into many competing forces and phenomena, each of which is headed by some kind of deity – whose conflicts and clashes are reflected in the dynamic natural world that we encounter.

Judaism denies the existence of these numerous “Elohim”, instead ascribing the power that is attributed to them to the one God of the Torah – the God who created and controls all these numerous natural forces. Thus when Yitro, upon leaving pagan society to join the Israelites, states “YHVH is greater than all of the Elohim”, his intention could be interpreted in two ways. Has he completely renounced any belief in the efficacy of pagan deities or is he simply stating that the God who has taken the Jews out of Egypt and performed an impressive array of miracles clearly possesses greater power than other gods?

Yitro returns to his people soon after – his theological convictions can be debated. The Torah’s views on the matter are, however, far less ambiguous. The book of Devarim in particular emphasises God as being One, as well as describing Him as “YHVH is the Elohim in the heavens above and the earth below” and “there is none beside Him”.

Nevertheless repeated biblical passages, supported by archaeological evidence, make it clear that the Torah’s monotheism presented an enormous challenge to the Israelites, a challenge which a significant portion of the nation appears to have failed for much of the first Temple period. In rebuking the idolatrous Israelites, the prophets repeatedly reiterate that these gods “are vanity, a work of delusion” (Yirmeyah 10:15). Further details of the idols’ incapacity are related by the Psalmist (chap. 115) as well as in the second chapter of Habakkuk:

“What did a graven image avail that its maker has graven it? A molten image and a teacher of lies, that the maker of his work trusted in it to make dumb idols? Woe to him who says to the wood, "Awaken!"; to the dumb stone, "Arise!" Shall it teach? Behold it is overlaid with gold and silver, and no spirit is within it.”

Even for those Jews who resisted the popular allure of outright idol worship, the corrosive Canaanite influence infiltrated even mainstream Jewish practice to the extent that, for the masses, it was often difficult to differentiate between legitimate divine worship and Caananite idolatry. Radak describes, for example, how Jews were influenced by the Canaanite custom to perform sacrificial pagan rites "on high mountains and hills”, until this practice became adopted by those attempting a genuine worship of God on private altars (bamot). Malbim adds that this adopted practice led to a joint ‘shituf’ practice in which the worshippers saw no contradiction between the idea of serving a supreme God on the one hand, and mimicking pagan recognition of ‘his intermediaries’ such as Ba'al and Ashera.

This confused synthesis of monotheistic belief and polytheistic practice is perhaps most graphically demonstrated in the dramatic episode of Eliyahu on Mount Carmel. Confronting the idolatrous Northern Kingdom which was riddled with Ba'al worship, Eliyahu challenges the gathered audience:

“For how long will you skip between two opinions? If Hashem is God, follow Him, if Ba’al is God follow him”.

Eliyahu appears to be emphasising that his audience cannot claim loyalty to and “skip between” two incompatible theological beliefs. They must choose between a pure, monotheistic conception of God and pagan polytheistic worship. His audience appear, at least briefly, to have grasped this principle. Echoing Yitro’s words they solemnly declare “YHVH is the Elohim” – thereby affirming that the forces of nature deified by polytheism have no power beyond that granted by God.

Returning to the Ten Commandments, the wording mentioned above prohibiting the worship of other gods now appears to be very precise. Rather than simply outlawing idolatry the Torah says “You shall have no other gods before Me” – targeting, it would seem, the syncretic shituf of attempting to combine the Torah’s monotheism with the pagan pantheon of the Canaanites. The very same practice concerning which Eliyahu faced off against the priests of Baal in order to expunge from Israel.

While some archaeologists have argued that the significant quantity of idolatrous shrines and figurines uncovered from the First Temple period makes it unlikely that the early Israelites were prohibited from such practices, others such as William F. Albright attempt to put this in context:

"...Polytheism had a popular appeal in many ways like that of the dominant secularism of our own age. The wealth, science and aesthetic culture were lined up on the side of Canaanite religion. All the sinister fascination of the elaborate proto-sciences of magic and divination was marshaled in defense of polytheism...The extraordinary thing is that the way of Moses survived in Israel despite all of the forces drawn up against it".

"When the Jews believed in other gods" (Elon Glad, Haaretz) here.

First posted to Facebook 23 January 2022, here.

Can one unify the God of monotheism?

A long-standing irony of the daily Sefirah count is the L’Shem Yichud prayer which many communities recite prior to counting. This prayer specifies that, through the performance of a positive biblical commandment, The Holy One, Blessed be He is being “unified”. This is somewhat puzzling. Pretty much the only legal authority who considers counting the Omer to be a biblical commandment nowadays is Rambam. Yet it is hard to imagine Rambam embracing the notion of a God who requires unification. He wrote in his opening chapter of Mishneh Torah:

“This God is one. He is not two or more, but one, unified in a manner which [surpasses] any unity that is found in the world; i.e., He is not one in the manner of a general category which includes many individual entities, nor one in the way that the body is divided into different portions and dimensions. Rather, He is unified, and there exists no unity similar to His in this world.

If there were many gods, they would have body and form, because like entities are separated from each other only through the circumstances associated with body and form.

Were the Creator to have body and form, He would have limitation and definition, because it is impossible for a body not to be limited. And any entity which itself is limited and defined [possesses] only limited and defined power.”

Such a principle was not an invention of Rambam – it was expressed even more powerfully approximately a century earlier in the Chovot HaLevavot, which considered God’s absolute unity to be a foundational pillar of monotheistic faith – a pillar which distinguishes it from polytheism.

This is not to suggest, of course, that all of those who recite the L’Shem Yichud prayer would be thought of by Rambam as polytheists. Judaism Reclaimed, which devotes several chapters to this complex matter, notes how the system and texts of Kabbalah are, in Gershom Scholem’s words, “symbols” and “images of a spiritual mode of existence…the Divine Being Himself cannot be expressed”. Several prominent kabbalistic works take great pains to point out, for example, that

“… there can be no change in God and no division within Him which would justify the assertion that He is divided into parts in these ten Sefirot, for change and division is not to be found within Him … It can be compared to water which is divided into different variously coloured [translucent] vessels… the water, despite its natural lack of colour, will appear to bear the colour of the various vessels in which it is contained … [This change in appearance] is solely from the external perspective of the one viewing the vessels, not within the water itself. So too is the matter of the Sefirot … There is no change in the spreading Essence [ie God] except for in the view of the beholder …” [R. Moshe Cordovero, Pardes Rimonim 4:4]

But why is it that Rambam and Chovot Halevavot regard implications of division and form regarding God with so much more severity than their kabbalistic counterparts?

A key difference between Rambam and the Kabbalists in this regard appears to be that Rambam presents a binary system of absolute physicality and spirituality. There is no middle ground.

For Rambam and his binary system of physicality and meta-physicality, therefore, the concepts of substance, form, division and unity relate specifically to the limited physical realm. To apply such terms to God therefore would be to subject Him to the limitations of time, space, decay and all other laws of nature to which physicality necessarily submits. As quoted above from the chapter of Mishneh Torah:

"If the Creator were a physical body, He would have bounds and limits, for it is impossible for a physical body to be without limits".

Such a position is not consistent with monotheistic religion, which is premised on the principle that God acts freely and independently, transcending all the limitations that hold sway in the physical domain.

Within the kabbalistic system however, an incorrect belief in God’s physicality or disunity does not necessarily imply a limitation of His power. In contrast to the stark binary system of Rambam, in which all of existence falls neatly into either the physical or spiritual realm, Kabbalists introduce a complex and interconnected range of quasi-physical existence which occupies the vast middle ground separating absolute physicality from pure spirituality. Judaism Reclaimed shows how this distinction between Rambam and Kabbalists can be detected in their disputes over concepts such as angels, the nature of the soul, and afterlife punishment in Gehinnom. While for Rambam therefore, the use of terms which imply form, division and unity to God are tantamount to an assertion of His limited and fully-physical status, such a deduction is considerably less straightforward from the perspective of the Kabbalist.

Rambam goes further, considering that the God of Tanach is one who cannot be contained in human thought or terms – as King Solomon declared: “The heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain You, and surely not this Temple that I have built!". Any relationship with this God must be premised upon this foundational principle. Conceptualising God in physical terms, even if one recognises that His true Essence lies beyond them – is at best misleading and unhelpful. It does not truly relate to God in any way.

And what of those who follow the simple meaning of these kabbalistic prayers – unaware of the warnings of kabbalistic masters as to their symbolic meanings – and consider their actions and prayers to be somehow unifying disparate elements of God?

One fascinating teaching on this subject can be found in the writings of the Chazon Ish, who suggested that deeming such people to be heretics “applies specifically to one who has not analysed the matter or is of limited intelligence”. Nevertheless, “one who understands that all that we have received in our tradition concerning the true Creator cannot co-exist with physicality…he is a “min” for he is denying the core belief”. A stricter interpretation of Rambam’s position regarding accidental heretics is attributed, however, to Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik, who is reported to have declared that even “an unfortunate heretic is nevertheless a heretic”.

Fiery words indeed!

First posted on Facebook 8 May 2023, herehere.

Where on earth is the "Kevod Hashem"?

On two occasions in the book of Bemidbar, the nation is involved in some form of frantic rebellion against God – or at least again his appointed leaders. As the mutinies of Korach and the Spies reach fever pitch, order is suddenly and dramatically restored by the “Glory [Kevod] of God” appearing to the entire nation.

The mysterious notion of a tangible “Kevod Hashem” features elsewhere in Tanakh and appears repeatedly in our prayers – but how is it to be understood? Is Kevod Hashem some form of tangible spiritual entity? Where is it to be found?

We are accustomed to the notion of God’s kavod “filling the entire world” – our daily kedushah prayer includes Yeshayah’s declaration that “melo chol ha’aretz kevodo”. But if such kevod Hashem indeed fills the entire universe then how can it said to appear suddenly mid-mutiny in order to restore order among the Israelites?

The extended Kedusha that we recite on Shabbat recounts that this question also troubles God’s ministering angels: “His kavod fills the world [yet] His ministering angels ask of each other “Where is the place of His kavod?!”” The resolution appears to be that his kavod is to be found among “am hameyachadim shemo” – the nation which perceives and declares his Oneness.

Radak explains in his commentary to Yeshayah’s declaration that “God has created everything, and those who are able to perceive God will glorify Him for this [yechabeduhu ba’alei sechel]”. Consistent with Rambam’s interpretations of this verse in Moreh Nevuchim, Radak is shifting the emphasis from kavod as a tangible spiritual entity to a description of humans recognizing and internalizing the nature of God’s existence. It would seem that while God’s kavod potentially fills the entire world – since all aspects of Creation can be said to point to a Creator – this kavod only exists in practice when and where humans perceive and declare God’s existence.

As Judaism Reclaimed analyses, Rambam categorically rejects as heretical the notion that God or divinity can enter into the limiting physical frameworks of space and time. Biblical verses which purport to describe God in this manner are therefore interpreted, in line with the ancient footsteps of Targum Onkelos, to be describing our perception and relationship with God. (Interestingly, Rambam does however consider it legitimate – if not entirely accurate – to understand kevod as a form of “created light” – an understanding which appears to have been favoured by other commentators such as Sa’adiah Gaon).

The extended kedushah prayer can be seen to reflect Rambam’s approach to kevod Hashem. Such kavod does not occupy any fixed place that the ministering angels can point to – rather it is to be found among the am hameyachadim shemo who use their tzelem Elokim – their God given intellect to recognise, internalise and develop a relationship with Him.

A further chapter of Judaism Reclaimed examines how such a recognition of God is not universally proclaimed and is central to the historical role of the Jewish nation. When pagans contemplated the world, they saw a multiplicity of concepts and forces which appeared to be in conflict with one another in the natural world. This they rationalised in terms of there being a multiplicity of deities, each with limited powers and spheres of influence, who engage in battle with one another where their interests come into conflict or their limited spheres of influence overlap. Aristotle, by contrast, contemplated the multiple ‘forms’ that make up the universe, understanding that there must be a single simple source from which they all emanate. This source, however, he viewed as being a natural and constant First Cause, eternally limited to its role of constantly producing the physical universe. In the modern era, atheists have concocted complex theories of multiverses and eternally self-perpetuating cycles of Big Bangs and contractions in order to explain what at first glance appears to be a precisely and finely-tuned universe.

From Avraham and the pagans, Rambam and Aristotle through to Rabbi Sacks’s disputes with New Atheists, Judaism has always stood at the forefront of the battle to declare and accept God’s governance of the world. These declarations have firmly rejected the various competing rival theories which have emerged at different historical junctures, gained popularity and then departed from serious theological and philosophical reckoning. It is this role of the Jewish nation which is concretised in the Kedusha prayer depicting us as the am hameyachadim shemo – the nation whose mission it is perpetually to recognise and declare God’s Oneness and governance of the world. The nation therefore among whom God’s kavod can be found.

The book of Bemidbar describes the formative years of our young nation in which it was being trained for its upcoming mission as God’s chosen people. This crash course required a more intense providential guidance – certain fundamental truths had to be supernaturally imposed on the nation. For this reason, when they rebelled in the episodes of the Spies and Korach, God’s kavodhad to make itself clear to them. Rather than emerging from the free choice of humans to meditate upon and perceive God, He made Himself clear and apparent in order to keep the emerging nation from rebelling against Moshe’s leadership and their destiny in the Land of Israel.

Subsequent generations of Jews, however, are guided by the phrase ברוך הוא אלקינו שבראנו לכבודו"” – “Blessed is He our God who created us for His kavod – our mission as God’s nation is to perceive, internalise and declare to the world His Oneness and governance.

First posted to Facebook 25 June 2023, here.

Atheism vs. idolatry: can anything be worse than a cardinal sin?

I recently had a discussion with a member of this group on the subject of Rambam, idolatry and atheism. Jewish law and prophetic protest both focus strongly on the evils of pagan worship. Does this preoccupation confirm its status as the ultimate biblical sin? Or does it merely reflect the fact that polytheism (as opposed to atheism) represented the primary threat to the monotheism which the Torah was promoting? If the latter is true, how are we to regard the Torah’s respective attitudes to paganism and atheism in a modern world where atheism is widespread and growing?

It occurred to me that the answer to this question may depend on the approach that one takes to Judaism.

One position that I remember being advanced consistently in Yeshiva hashkafa classes emphasises the need for us to recognise that the world is truly run by spiritual forces which are closely impacted by our good and bad deeds. From this mystical outlook, a key component of Judaism is our need to acknowledge the limits of the laws of nature and concentrate instead on the spiritual dynamic which dictates to it.

From this perspective, I remember hearing one rabbi declare, bygone generations were vastly superior to our own. In those heady days, even non-Jews were fully aware that the world truly operates through spiritual forces. All that was left for debate was whether this force was Ba’al, Ra or the true God of Israel. Alas in our sinful days the spiritual dimension is increasingly derided and ignored by people who are focused exclusively on physicality and their worldly aspirations.

When viewed from this perspective it would appear that modern atheism is more distant than idolatry from Jewish beliefs.

[As an aside I remember this being starkly evident on my trip down the Nile 14 years ago. On the East side of the Nile, which housed the major population centres in ancient times, very little remains intact for archaeologists and tourists. The full focus of the Pharaohs was on the Nile’s West Bank, where the sun sets and from where the souls were believed to enter the afterlife. It is here that the magnificent Temples and pyramids, well stocked with mummies and treasures, were built to last for millennia. This, it seems, was the primary focus of the ancient world.]

When we weigh up idolatry and atheism from Rambam’s worldview, however, I’m not convinced that this conclusion holds true.

For Rambam, the problem with paganism is not simply that it represents an incorrect address for one’s prayers. Rather it represents the antithesis of Judaism – a wholly corrupted world view in which competing deities spar with one another over the fate of the world and its inhabitants, and must be appeased through supplication and sacrifice. Aristotle, whose belief came close to what might now be called atheism, was praised by Rambam for his understanding of the physical world – even if he resorted to “conjecture” when it came to the spiritual realm (Guide 2:22).

Would Rambam therefore consider atheism to be closer to Judaism and less damaging than pagan religion? Or perhaps even Rambam would consider bad religion preferable to the sort of denial advanced by Bertrand Russell who argued that:

“[Man’s] origin, his growth, his hope and fears, his loves and his beliefs, are but the outcome of accidental collocations of atoms; no fire, no heroism, no intensity of thought and feeling can preserve the body beyond the grave…”

A further consideration is the extent to which the Torah’s campaign against idolatry is tied in with its prophetic vision of the need to establish a just, merciful and righteous society. Particularly since neither atheists nor pagans, in Rambam’s understanding, are likely to receive a share in the world to come, it is important to assess the extent to which they are able to provide a stable society for those who do pursue monotheistic faith. Is paganism assumed to be synonymous with human sacrifice? Is atheism associated with humanitarianism or rather the destructive atheist regimes which defined much of the past century?

A further question which must be addressed is what atheists truly believe regarding the origin of the world. If a person doesn’t believe in a creator-God, does that mean that something else other than God – some unstated force – must have created the world and guided its development?

Certainly there are some atheists who advance complex theories of how the world may have created itself from nothing. Some hold that the world has always been here and is perpetually expanding and contracting; others prefer to push aside the question of the origin of the universe entirely. It may be more accurate to consider that those who fall within the latter category are ignoring the possibility and implications of a creator-God rather than actually holding atheist beliefs. They may have considered the sorts of absurdities and atrocities that religious beliefs have produced through the centuries and concluded that life is better lived without dwelling upon such questions. Could it be that the Torah’s primary protest is against pagan worship rather than simply a lack of pure monotheistic belief?

I would be tempted to conclude, from Rambam’s telling, that atheism certainly is preferable to idolatry. This is because it typically involves a person possessing a broadly correct outlook in terms of the functioning of the physical world – just one that lacks recognition that laws of nature are divinely ordained. While this lacking will hold a person back from appreciating the wisdom and building a relationship with the God who put those laws into place, it avoids the damaging and magical falsehoods propounded by pagan beliefs in multiple competing deities which must be appeased through imagined rituals and sacrifices.

First posted to Facebook 29 June 2022, here.