Bereishit: the Book of Science and Technology

By מרדכי איש ימיני and Shmuli Phillips

The notion that humans are created Betzelem Elokim – in God’s image – is a central feature of the Creation passage, and often viewed as a fundamental teaching of the Torah. As Judaism Reclaimed notes, the concept of all people bearing God’s image is used to emphasise the inherent value of all human life. Various commentaries also seek to identify the Divine image with particularly important features that humans share with God, such as the rational intellect (Rambam) or free will (Meshech Chochma).

There is an additional dimension to “the image of God”, however, the dynamics of which play themselves out across the primary narratives of the book of Bereishit. The verses state:

“And God created man in His image…and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the sky and over all the beasts that tread upon the earth." [1:27-28]

As Rabbi J. B. Soloveitchik points out in The Lonely Man of Faith, the command to “subdue” the natural world indicates that it is God’s will for mankind to employ its creative faculties in order to master its environment. Read in context of the previous verse, this implies that the ability that humanity has been granted to conquer and master the world through advancement in science and technology is an aspect of its being created in God’s image. To partner God in ruling the world, and governing it in accordance with His Will. According to this understanding, it is not simply reflecting upon the wonders and wisdom of the natural world that leads us to love of God – as Rambam writes (Hil. Yesodei HaTorah 2:2). But this must be taken further, fulfilling the Divine mandate to utilise our God-given intellect and skills to develop and sophisticate human existence. Through this process, humanity can improve its standard of living and, with it, its ability to focus on more elevated goals.

The religious importance of advancing human civilisation is a theme which appears to be emphasised through the book of Bereishit. Bereishit’s early heroes – the forefathers – are all shepherds, while its villains – such as Nimrod, Eisav and Yishmael – are characterised as wild hunters. With humanity gradually shifting from groups of hunter-gatherers to herders of flock, and eventually other forms of agriculture, the Torah subtly makes its stance on the matter clear.

Parashat Lech Lecha identifies Yishmael as a “wild-ass of a man”. The story continues in the following parasha to see him as a desert archer who is considered unqualified to be part of the foundations of the Chosen People who will bear God’s teachings to the humanity.

The message is presented in a particularly stark manner when the hunter, Eisav, returns exhausted from the field demanding to be fed. Ya’akov, by contrast, is patiently cooking lentil soup. The contrast between the wild, impatient Eisav and the calm “tent dweller” is evident. Hunter-gatherers’ existence is characterised by living for the here and now. Their food lasts for 48 hours before another hunt must be conducted. It is a lifestyle which led people to be impulsive, violent and living for the moment. Certainly “of what value for me is the firstborn?”. The forefathers’ shepherding and lentil-growing marked a level of increased civilisation and sophistication – a shift towards mastery of the world that the Torah strongly approves of.

The episode of Yosef and his brothers represents a further stage of progress, demonstrating that the Torah does not place inherent value on the occupation of shepherding. Instead Yosef dreams of wheat – a more sophisticated agricultural process which facilitates more stable cities and civilisations. As Viceroy in Egypt he takes this yet further, devising schemes for effective of storage of crops and thus teaching his subjects how to stave of famine.

Previous posts have described the profound meaning of Ya’akov’s dream – the angels going up and then down the ladder signify that they must, having perfected themselves, descend back down the ladder to bring the benefits of their knowledge to improve the societies around them. While this certainly includes religious and moral teachings, a Gemara (Shabbat 33b-34a) teaches that this also refers to human and technological advancement. It describes how Ya’akov, fresh from overcoming the angel of Eisav and reconciling with his brother, sought to enhance the living standard of the nearest civilisation. Different opinions suggest that he established a monetary system for them, a market system or public baths and hygiene. The common denominator being that the role of the prophet – and the role of religion – is to advance and develop the living standard of its society helping them to realise more fully the image of God with which they were created.

In today’s context this dimension of the image of God may lend particular importance to those who work, for example, in improving humanity’s lot by exploring genes and atoms. It is important for we who live in the modern era to remember that scientific and technological advancement can and must be viewed through the Torah’s lens of being partners in God’s Creation and further perceiving His wisdom and wonders. This can also prevent us from falling into the trap of those who built the Tower of Babel, whose technological advancements led to arrogance and a perception that they could transcend and overcome God and the mission which he entrusted to humanity.

For more on the Tower of Babel as a technological advancement see this superb analysis from R Alex Israel.

For more on the ladder in Ya’akov’s dream and its implication for prophets and Jewish leaders click here.

First posted on Facebook 14 October 2021, here.

The message of Noach: tyranny, culture and religion

The parashah of Noach raises more than its fair share of controversies and discussion points. In its chapters which arise from this parashah, Judaism Reclaimed focuses on the theme of the Torah’s universalist message being borne by a small Chosen Nation.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, whose universalist understanding of the Torah features heavily in our analysis of this parashah, builds upon the ideas of earlier commentators such as Rabbi Yehudah Halevi and Rabbi Ovadyah Seforno. These earlier commentators indicate that God’s primary plan for the world was for the entire human race to strive together for spiritual and moral perfection. Parashat Noach, following R’ Hirsch’s approach, is a demonstration of how a manifestly unified society repeatedly squandered this opportunity, leading to the fracturing of mankind into distinct rival groups from which only one would emerge as being suitably quipped to bear the responsibility and privilege of carrying God’s message to the world.

It is in this context that R’ Hirsch presents an original and illuminating interpretation of Noach’s prophetic utterances concerning his three sons, and of the interrelationship of the nations which would become associated with them. Crucially, R’ Hirsch distances himself from the notion that Cham’s descendants were terminally cursed with being enslaved to his brothers -- a reading which has prompted some to justify African slavery and which is mocked by Ibn Ezra (“Some say that Kushites are slaves because Noach cursed Cham. But they have forgotten that the first king who reigned after the Flood was from Kush”).

How then does R’ Hirsch explain Noach’s words? He proposes that Shem, Cham and Yafet represent three distinct traits (and even ideologies) to which their names allude. Shem (literally “Name”) indicates great intellectual and spiritual insight to perceive the essence of matters. Cham (“Hot”) embodies a surrender to unrestrained “burning” physical sensuality while Yafet (“Open”) represents the openness and sensitivity of people’s hearts to beauty and aesthetics.

Identifying these core traits and ideologies as national aspirations rather than as characteristics determined by strict biological descent, R’ Hirsch interprets Noach’s vision as a prayer and as guidance for the direction and religious perfection of mankind. In brief: many nations have risen and fallen throughout human history, their only essence and aspiration being exploitation and domination over others. Such nations of ‘Cham’ are thus identified with tyranny, brute force and craven submission to humanity’s primal urges (phenomena which are reflected in their religions and gods of war). For such cultures to develop a more sophisticated moral and spiritual dimension, R’ Hirsch writes, they must first come under the refining influence of Yafet’s thought and culture. This bears the potential to stimulate the mind and soul to develop an awareness and consciousness which transcends humanity’s most animalistic elements.

Elevated by of the principle of “Yaft Elokim leYefet”, the next step is for Cham to be “yishkon be’ohalei Shem” – to dwell in the tents of Shem where Cham can absorb the ultimate moral, spiritual and religious truths which lie beyond aesthetic satisfaction. R’ Hirsch traces the various influences of the Greeks and Jews (primary exemplars of Yafet and Shem) throughout history, demonstrating how Noach’s prophecy has elevated humanity.

Judaism Reclaimed continues this discussion with an assessment of how R’ Hirsch’s interpretation might have viewed the violent combinations of (i) Cham and Yafet in Nazi Germany, as well as (ii) Cham and Shem in the barbaric theocracy of the Islamic State. We conclude by demonstrating that Noach’s prophecy and teaching remains both relevant and critical in the 21st

century.

[Other controversial discussions arising from parashat Noach such as the parallel Noach narratives, Gilgamesh Epic and how to approach apparent conflicts between the Torah’s text and science, feature heavily in later chapters.]

First posted to Facebook 29 October 2019, here.

Matchmaking, divination and Heavenly signs

Over the years I have received numerous phone calls and emails from people asking me to assist a friend or family member in their search for a suitable marriage partner. The Torah reading yesterday got me wondering if, in light of my persistent failure as a matchmaker, I should perhaps adopt a more creative approach.

Having been dispatched by Avraham to identify a suitable wife for Yitzchak, Eliezer looks for a sign in order to fulfil his mission:

And it will be, [that] the maiden to whom I will say, 'Lower your pitcher and I will drink,' and she will say, 'Drink, and I will also water your camels,' her have You designated for Your servant, for Isaac, and through her may I know that You have performed loving kindness with my master. (24:14)

The rest, as they say, is history. Eliezer’s proposed sign immediately bears fruit, Rivka offers to water his camels and by the end of the chapter is married to Yitzchak. But setting aside the practicalities of following Eliezer’s example, how halachically advisable would it be for me to seek and interpret heavenly signs in order to cure my matchmaking shortcomings?

In its discussion of the biblical prohibition against “divining” – the attribution of superstitious significance to worldly events – the Gemara considers that Eliezer’s actions constituted a prime example of divination. Yet the Talmudic commentary of Rabbeinu Nissim of Girona argues that this was not a prohibited form of divination:

The divination prohibited by the Torah is that of a person who relies on a sign for which there is no logical basis that it should be beneficial or detrimental, such as bread falling from his hand or a deer crossing his path…these and their like are considered ‘darkei Emori’. But one who follows signs which have logical basis for providing benefit or detriment this is not divination, for all matters of the world are such … [Commentary to Chullin 95b]

As Judaism Reclaimed explores, this explanation parallels the approach of Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim, who understands that practices are only prohibited as superstitious if they i) have no logical basis and ii) cannot be demonstrably proven to have worked.

Rambam views the laws of the natural world as a product of divine wisdom. They represent an important means for acquiring awe, love and knowledge of God. Any practice which can be demonstrated to be effective is therefore a reflection of God's wisdom in creating the world. If magical rites and superstitious signs were actually effective, the Torah would have had no cause to prohibit them. The problem with these imagined products of trickery lies primarily in the claim that they involve the use of powers which lie above God's natural laws, therefore wielding the ability to control and manipulate them. This creates an impression of the existence of additional and distinct supernatural powers — a dark side to be served and appeased — which makes sorcery and necromancy natural bedfellows of idolatry.

On this basis we can vindicate Eliezer’s sign-seeking on two accounts. First of all, the sign that he proposed was an entirely logical test of character to identify the Matriarch-in-waiting. Secondly, he specifically includes God in the process – asking Him to ensure the success of his design. While the legitimacy of “testing God” in this manner leads to further complications under “Do not test God…” )Devarim 6:16, see Ramban’s commentary there).

In summary, while there therefore appear to be halachically acceptable ways through which to tap into heavenly signs, my match-making career cannot rely on the existence of any magical or fool-proof formula. Matches may indeed be made in Heaven. The ability to spot them, however, would seem to require a more Earthly enterprise!

First posted on Facebook 31 October 2021, here.

The historical descent of Edom

*This week we are privileged to be celebrating the Barmitzvah of our eldest child, Gavriel. His speech, which he delivered a couple of days ago, analysed the drastic deterioration of the relationship between Israel and Edom, and how the Torah’s depiction of Edom evolved through Jewish history. *

*The post below is based upon his speech.*

The animosity and rivalry between Yaakov and Eisav can be traced back to the opening passages of this week’s parashah, which describes Eisav returning starving from the field. Yaakov is cooking lentil soup. Eisav demands to be fed “from this red stuff” and is even willing to forgo his birth-right for the privilege. Therefore – the Torah informs us – he was called Edom.

A running theme in the book of Bereishit is that, when someone is assigned a name, this is not just a matter of convenience so that people know how to refer to a person. The Torah uses names in order to pinpoint and highlight a person’s core essence – what the Torah considers to be their spiritual identity or mission. So in what way does Edom (“red”) represent Eisav’s core identity? And in what way is that related to the soup episode?

A few years back I was warming myself up on a cold November afternoon with a bowl of lentil soup when a question struck me. The soup that I was eating – and indeed all lentil soup that I’ve had before and after – was a deep yellow colour. So why did Eisav, in his highly significant description of lentil soup, claim that it was red?!

I consulted with a friend of mine who works as a chef, and learned that, while lentil soup is indeed yellow, raw lentils are of a much more reddish hue. It occurred to me that this may provide the key to understanding what the Torah is telling us here about Eisav. He came in from the field and just had to eat straight away. He could not contain his instinctive urges; rather, - he refused to delay his instant gratification even for the sake of greater physical pleasure of consuming fully-cooked soup. Such a person certainly would find neither relevance nor meaning in the more elevated spiritual benefits conferred by being firstborn.

The Torah seizes on Eisav's grab for the uncooked red lentils – his uncontrolled "living for the moment" –as a statement of who he had become and what he represented. It was this trait that Rivkah recognised; she wanted to prevent from playing a pivotal role in the family of the Avot the building blocks of the Jewish people. This explains why she went to such lengths to prevent Eisav from receiving the blessing and legacy of Avraham.

While Eisav-Edom was not worthy to receive the blessings in this week’s parashah and was removed from the Jewish nation, Edom was not condemned as being evil in the same way as the Torah’s ultimate villains -- Amalek and the seven Canaanite nations. The Torah commanded that Amalek and the Canaanite nations be annihilated – but what do we read of Edom? The Jewish people were not permitted to attack them or even pass through their territory without permission. At this stage Edom is addressed as Israel’s “brother” (Bemidbar 20:14), being granted Har Seir as an inheritance (Devarim 2:5). There is even a specific commandment not to hate an Edomite “for he is your brother” (Devarim 23:7).

So Edom is no longer part of the Chosen People, but, as an Abrahamic cousin he still appears to bear a special protected status. As biblical history progresses the Jewish view on Edom shifts sharply. Edom has not just lost its place in the Chosen Nation by rejecting its spiritual birth-right by choosing instant gratification over deeper religious values. It has now come to oppose and attack Israel, employing extreme violence and displaying, pride and deceit.

A series of particularly brutal wars were fought between Israel and Edom in the second half of the First Temple era, leading the prophet Ovadyiah to declare that Edom has lost its special protected status as a descendants of Avraham. It would seem that this elevated status itself has led them astray: “The pride of your heart has deceived you”, – he accuses them. Ovadyiah specifically contrasts the fate of Israel who would go into exile and be returned – with Edom who would be exiled forever. The same idea can be found in this week’s Haftarah, in which Malachi contrasts God’s love for Israel with his rejection of Edom, – who would now be forever demoted and condemned because of their violence and hatred of Israel: “Eisav is Yaacov’s brother; yet I have loved Yaacov and hated Eisav, and I made his mountains desolate…”. And if Edom plans to return? “They shall build, but I will demolish…the people whom Hashem has damned forever”.

So as a result of Edom’s pride and violence, he goes into permanent exile from his rocky fortress of Bozrah – in present day Jordan. During the Second Temple period, instead of inhabiting the Land of Edom, they now live in “Edomite cities” within Israel, – around present day Chevron. No-one is entirely sure what to make of them.

In one political-religious drama, the two sides of which are still debated in modern-day Israel, the now-secular Hasmonean government attempted to mass-convert whole cities of Edomites to Judaism in order to integrate them into the country and Jewish society. The government claimed that it was untenable to have whole cities of residents living within the Jewish state who were not Jewish and would remain separate from the majority.

The sages and religious leaders of the era fiercely opposed the legitimacy and desirability of this move. First, it is not clear that the Edomites genuinely wanted to convert, which would impact the validity of their mass -conversion. Secondly, the Torah teaches that Edomite converts can only enter the Jewish people in the third generation. This all led to an unclear status for those who emerged from such cities – such as the infamous King Herod. This in turn led to a great deal of confusion. According to one historical source:

**When John Hyrcanus conquered the region of Edom, he required all Edomim to obey Jewish law or to leave; most Edomim converted to Judaism, which meant that they had to be circumcised, and many intermarried with the Jews and adopted their customs. While Herod publicly identified himself as a Jew and was considered as such by some, this religious identification was undermined by the decadent lifestyle of the Herodians, which would have earned them the antipathy of observant Jews*.*

**All the worldly pomp and splendour which made Herod popular among the pagans, however, made him hated by the Jews, who could not forgive him for insulting their religious feelings by forcing upon them idolatrous games and combats with wild animals*. *(Encyclopaedia Judaica).

Herod meanwhile harboured a strong hatred of the Sages for rejecting and questioning the authenticity of his Jewishness. The Gemara describes how he slaughtered many sages and sent most of the rest into hiding.

A century later, the Tannaim identified Edom with the Romans, an apparently violent offshoot of Edom (see Rashi at the end of parashat Vayishlach. ). The Edomite Romans (represented by the pig) are now taken by Chazal to represent deceit and false piety).

A Midrash teaches:

*“*Why are the Romans – Edom - compared to a pig? For this reason: when the pig is lying down it puts out its hoofs, as if to say, "I am clean," so does this wicked State rob and oppress, yet pretend to be performing justice*..."* (Midrash Rabbah, – Bereishit 65:1)

Herod, like the fellow Edomites with whom he is allied, matches the midrashic porcine depiction. He builds beautiful structures all over Israel; the ruins of many are still visitable today. The Tannaim are openly amazed by his reconstruction of the Beit Hamikdash, saying “whoever did not see Herod’s Temple did not see a beautiful building in their life”. Yet, like the pig’s trotters, Herod’s building was also seen to represent a beautiful and impressive exterior which attempted to furnish him with a legacy which would mask his cruel and blood-stained leadership. Herod insisted on placing a semi-idolatrous Roman icon within the Temple precincts. Young Torah scholars who attempted to prevent this were captured and burned alive.

By this stage, the sages viewed Edom and Israel as irreconcilable foes, teaching as a matter of tradition that “*Eisav soneh et Yaakov*” ([“Eisav has a deeply rooted hatred for Yaakov”]). This masking of hatred and violence in high culture and the arts has continued to haunt the Jewish people – perhaps most painfully in the desolation of European Jewry at the hands of the highly-cultured “master race” of Nazi Germany. It can be argued that such Edomite hatred can be seen to continue to this very day, with universities and places of higher culture leading the way in the delegitimization of Israel’s actions – and sometimes of the very legitimacy of the Jewish return from exile to build a presence in their homeland.

First posted to Facebook 4 November 2021, here.

Stairway to Heaven: Yaakov's ladder and Jewish leadership

The opening scene of parashat Vayeitze presents a prophetic dream experienced by Ya'akov which cries out for a profound interpretation. Judaism Reclaimed explores the meaning of the mysterious creatureswho ascend and descend their celestial stairway. We draw upon various sources to relate the dream’s message to Ya'akov as he embarks upon a crucial journey, hard-earned blessings in hand, to establish his credentials as the third and final forefather of the Jewish people.

R’ Chaim Volozhin, in his book Nefesh Hachaim, explains the Zohar's approach to the dream, in which the ascending and descending angels provide Ya'akov with a visual demonstration of the interplay which exists between the spiritual and physical spheres. The ladder is based firmly on the ground, with its upper rungs scaling the heavenly heights until they reach God. The angels moving up and then down the ladder represent the spiritual ‘ripple effect’ of good deeds, first moving up towards the heavens, and then descending with the resultant divine bounty. R’ Chaim explains the apparent difficulty of the angels first rising up the ladder and only then descending – an order which seems to suggest that their journey begins in the physical world rather than in the heavens by saying:

"… the primary task of mankind is to first raise the world from a lower to a higher level, and after that the (divine) light will be drawn from above to below".

This interpretation of the dream as an allusion to the dynamic role of spirituality within the physical world is reinforced by a dramatic midrashic subplot, which tells of squabbling stones uniting beneath Ya'akov's head. Maharal explains that division and separation between objects is a purely physical phenomenon. The intense spiritual level to which Ya'akov soared during his dream made an impact on the physical objects within his vicinity, uniting the squabbling stones into a single unit. The clear message emerging from both the dream and the quarrelling stones is that spiritual forces generated by good conduct, control and manipulate objects and events in the physical world.

As Ya'akov travels to Haran to build a family, household and nation, the lesson of his dream holds particular relevance. Rivka's diversion of the blessings of prosperity to Ya'akov propels him from the tents of meditation and study to the ruthless, amoral business world of his uncle Lavan. There he amasses significant wealth, and is forced into situations that challenge his inherent honesty and integrity. The extent of Ya'akov's material success is underscored by his eventual meeting with Eisav. While Ya'akov is clearly nervous and preparing for a violent confrontation, Eisav greets Ya'akov warmly, proposing that the brothers join forces and travel together. R' Ari Kahn suggests (“Explorations” – newly expanded and released) that Eisav believes that, while he has lost the blessings of the first-born, he has nonetheless won the ideological war, since the studious Ya'akov has been transformed into a 'man of the world' to whom Eisav can now relate and give respect.

The dream sent to Ya'akov is intended to guide his perspective throughout this rite of passage, so that his new-found wealth and status remain a means with which to build his nation rather than being an end in their own right. Ya'akov's response to the dream is that "All that You will give to me I will surely tithe to You". This response may be an indication that this lesson has been duly internalised. And when Eisav suggests 'walking together', Ya'akov firmly refuses, choosing instead to build sukkot — booths for his cattle, in a symbolic recognition of the ephemeral nature and secondary importance of Ya’akov’s worldly possessions.

Ya'akov's dream also plays an important role within the very different worldview of Rambam, for whom the ladder teaches the role of the prophet. While Rambam understands prophecy to be the preserve of those who have greatly developed their intellect, Ya'akov's dream teaches that the prophet, having scaled the heights and gained a great intellectual insight, must return down to the masses to lead and be involved with their affairs. With this message, the Torah rejects the stereotype of the prophet as a reclusive 'Man of God', who is removed from and unconcerned with the fate of those around him.

The profound message that Rambam extracts from the ladder dream may be instrumental in resolving the enigmatic ending to his Moreh Nevuchim. Having spent most of the book emphasising the primary role of a person's intellect in connecting with God both in this world and the next, Rambam concludes with the bombshell that intellectual speculation alone is not sufficient. One must also understand and internalise the "chessed, mishpat and tzeddakah" of God's attributes through which we perceive Him to relate to humanity.

The ‘ultimate perfection’ of the prophet, as described in the Moreh’s conclusion, requires studious development of the intellect in order to perceive divine truths. Such a development must however be accompanied by the perfection of one’s character traits in order to imitate God's attributes of chessed, mishpat and tzeddakah. The message of Ya'akov's dream is, therefore, that if one has truly internalised 'knowledge of God', he will be motivated, like God, to descend back down the ladder to demonstrate through his own conduct the Godly attributes of "chessed"; holding the hand of the common man and encouraging him to take his first tentative steps up the rungs of the celestial ladder.

With Ya'akov poised on the threshold between the era of holy individuals and the emergence of a 'Godly nation', the timing of his dream with its instructive message could not be more appropriate, establishing for eternity the hallmark of the Jewish prophet and Man of God.

In his Akeidat Yitzchak, R' Yitzchak Arama explains the midrash of the uniting stones consistently with Rambam's interpretation of Ya'akov's dream. With the stones representing disparate and sometimes contradictory truths and human perceptions, the process of 'ascending the ladder' and attaining Godly knowledge involves these truths coalescing into a single, harmonious body of knowledge. This is necessarily achievable since all truth, knowledge and existence emanates from God, the ultimate united entity. What the dream teaches is that such pure divine truths must be brought back down the ladder by the prophet in order that they improve and unite the fractured and squabbling stones which abound in the physical world in its unperfected state.

First posted on Facebook 22 November 2020, here.

Maimonidean middot: how Rambam relates to character development

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Vayishlach explores various religious dimensions of interpersonal mitzvot. The parashah certainly provides several potent examples for examining questionable character traits, including Shimon and Levi’s massacre of Shechem and the inappropriate actions of Reuven. While Ya’akov initially rebukes Shimon and Levi for their political miscalculation, it is only later on his death bed that he highlights the character flaws that lay behind his sons’ sins in this parashah.

What, however, is the significance of negative character traits within the Maimonidean understanding of Judaism? Rambam describes how the element of humanity which transcends physicality and can connect to God for eternity is purely the intellect (sechel). How then does he explain the great religious significance placed on character development?

On a basic level, Rambam understands that proper intellectual development is premised upon the person having first achieved a properly balanced set of character traits. As he explains in Hilchot De’ot, each correct 'de'ah' (or ‘character trait’) is the optimal path between two extremes. Over-indulgence and abstinence, brazenness and timidity, generosity and miserliness are all sets of harmful extremes between which a middle path of balance must be navigated. A crucial precondition for the intellect’s ability to function properly, however, is the correct balance of all aspects of the soul. Each imbalanced trait creates a 'mechitzah' — an interference from the physical realm — which weakens the ability of the intellect to grasp and internalise divine truths. This explains why Rambam insists that prophecy, the highest state of the intellect, cannot be found among people with undeveloped character traits, and "not with those who are lazy, sad, frivolous or light-headed".

Rambam relates this teaching to a central theme in the Torah, the repeated demand that we are to “walk in God’s ways” – explained by Rambam in Hilchot De’ot to refer to the intermediate path between extremes in order to facilitate the greatest possible intellectual connection to God. But is it really satisfactory to limit the role of character development in Judaism to a facilitatory role? To a pre-condition for intellectual perfection? This does not appear to be the approach of the sages, who interpret the very same verse of “walking in God’s ways” to refer to positive emulation of God’s actions: “Just as He is Merciful so must you be merciful”.

We note how the conclusion of the Moreh Nevuchim implies a far more positive role for character development. Moving beyond the correct balancing of traits found in Hilchot De’ot, we find that a far more substantive emulation of God is implied by "walking in God’s ways". According to this section, a person's ultimate purpose is to internalise "chessed, mishpat and tzedakah" (kindness, justice and charity). We explore some profound ideas of Rabbis S. R. Hirsch and Joseph B. Soloveitchik as to how the Torah’s teachings of “loving one’s fellow as oneself” do not merely require certain kind actions to be performed. Rather, at their ideal level, they challenge the actor to transform his or her entire perspective of the world in order to view it from beyond the selfish interests and biases of their own personal needs and requirements (more on this here). Thus kindness and character development can have a direct and impact on one’s intellectual development.

These two dimensions of character development and kindness within Rambam’s understanding of Judaism can also be seen in their separate halachic sources. The first chapter of Hilchot De’ot focuses on a person’s need to balance his or her traits correctly strictly in terms of facilitating one’s own intellectual development:

“The straight path: This [involves discovering] the midpoint temperament of each and every trait that man possesses [within his personality.] This refers to the trait which is equidistant from either of the extremes, without being close to either of them. Therefore, the early Sages instructed a man to evaluate his traits, to calculate them and to direct them along the middle path…We are commanded to walk in these intermediate paths - and they are good and straight paths - as [Deuteronomy 28:9] states: "And you shall walk in His ways."”

Elsewhere in his legal writings, however, Rambam discloses the second dimension of character perfection – the requirement to focus on and care for the other:

“It is a positive commandment of Rabbinic origin to visit the sick, comfort mourners, to prepare for a funeral, prepare a bride, accompany guests, attend to all the needs of a burial, carry a corpse on one's shoulders, walk before the bier, mourn, dig a grave, and bury the dead, and also to bring joy to a bride and groom and help them in all their needs. These are deeds of kindness that one carries out with his person that have no limit. Although all these mitzvot are of Rabbinic origin, they are included in the Scriptural commandment Leviticus 19:18: "Love your neighbor as yourself." That charge implies that whatever you would like other people to do for you, you should do for your comrade in the Torah and mitzvot.” [Avel 14:1]

Each act of kindness that a person performs is therefore operating simultaneously on two levels. Both on the “between man and God” dimension – of improving one’s personal traits and thereby allowing the intellect to flourish. And, at the same time, caring for the other, learning to view the world through the perspective of other people’s needs rather than one’s own subjective and ultimately selfish outlook. In this way, one can develop a more divine perspective of the world and truly start to “walk in God’s ways”.

First posted on Facebook 18 November 2021, here.