The Torah's sexual prohibitions: religious decrees or basic common sense?

Much of yesterday’s Torah reading focused on forbidden sexual acts—the majority of them incestuous—which are related in great detail in both Acharei-Mot and Kedoshim. While from a religious perspective the existence of such prohibitions may seem expected and unspectacular, prohibitions against incest in the secular world represent something of an anomaly. An apparently victimless crime when performed by two consenting adults.

The attached news story telling of an attempt by an American parent-and-child couple to file for permission to marry set my mind racing. How exactly does Judaism categorise these prohibitions?

In the sixth chapter of Shemoneh Perakim, Rambam cites a surprising aggadic teaching:

"One should not say that he does not wish for meat with milk, clothes made from sha'atnez or immoral acts; rather he should say “I would like to partake of it but my Father in heaven has forbidden it to me””

This teaching, explains Rambam, refers specifically to chukkim—the sorts of commandments which are unique to the Torah and the reasons for which are not easily understood. These laws are not inherently evil but rather are followed out of obedience to the Divine word. Rambam contrasts chukkim with commandments that he labels “mefursamot” (widespread), rules that are universally recognised and legislated in all decent human societies. Concerning such ‘’mefursamot’’ laws Rambam cites the aggadic teaching “even had they not been commanded we could say they ought to have been commanded”.

The inclusion of immorality among the inexplicable ‘’chukkim’’ comes as something of a surprise for several reasons:

1) The prohibition against incest is historically one of the most widespread laws that societies have legislated. Wikipedia describes incest as “one of the most widespread of all cultural taboos…” which is almost universally forbidden between parents/children and siblings.

2) Incest is included within the Noahide Laws, which are often understood to represent basic moral and natural laws.

3) As, R' Gil Student pointed out in his post yesterday, the Torah considers these prohibitions severe breaches of national holiness, warning that they can cause the nation to be ''vomited out of the land''.

4) Rambam writes strongly against sexual excesses and immorality in pretty much ALL of his major works (see more here). In particular, he explains that the Torah’s powerful prohibitions against incest are necessary to prevent vulnerable female family members from being subject to abuse from male relatives.

So where does this leave us? Are the Torah’s sexual prohibitions such as those against incest to be regarded as inexplicable decrees which we observe out of obedience to God’s word or are they to be reviled alongside universally recognised evils such as murder and theft?

Is it possible that a single commandment concerning incest may in some instances—such as when it involves the potential abuse of a minor—represent an easily-understood mefursam prohibition to prevent a universally recognised evil, while in other instances—like that of the attached news story—represent the inexplicable word of God?

In a lengthy analysis of Rabbinic approaches to various mitzvot, Judaism Reclaimed demonstrates how such categorisation can be crucial because Tannaic and Talmudic sages were relatively more likely to legislate loopholes and exceptions for inexplicable chukkim. Mefursamot, by contrast, attracted Rabbinic legislation to prevent apparent loopholes from being exploited [see further here].

Judaism Reclaimed also notes that incest is not the only sexual prohibition to defy simple categorisation. For many centuries the prohibition associated with homosexuality was widely considered to be mefursam—a fathomable and widely accepted – prohibition in Western countries. Recent years though have seen a shift in public opinion, which has led it to be considered more in the category of chukkim than mefursamot. But can the spirit and categorisation of a commandment be subject to change?

How are we to be guided in such a case? Do we attempt to measure by public opinion at the time of the giving of the Torah? Do we follow the mefursam status for the majority of human history or in order to be categorised as mefursam does a commandment need to have been consistently and universally applied? To what extent (if any) can the Torah’s terminology of ‘’to’eiva’’ (abomination) influence the categorisation of the mitzvah?

One fascinating possibility is advanced by Rabbi Chaim Rapoport in his highly recommended book Homosexuality: An Authentic Orthodox View: that the same prohibited act might be considered mefursam for a heterosexual person but an inexplicable chok for a homosexual.

This post, like the associated chapter of Judaism Reclaimed, leaves its readers with questions to ponder rather than easy answers.

First posted on Facebook 25 April 2021, here.

Blemished sacrifices, blemished religion

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Emor opens by focusing on the laws of blemishes which disqualify kohanim and korbanot from the Mikdash service, before expanding into a broad discussion of the appropriate roles and interplay between emotion and intellect in Judaism.

The laws of blemishes are most simply understood as serving to enhance the honour and glory of the Mikdash and korbanot, since people have a natural tendency to respect institutions which present an impressive and immaculate appearance. Rabbi S. R. Hirsch, however, interprets these commands in the context of his broader approach to the Mikdash and korbanot. In doing so offers some profound insights. The overarching idea represented through the offering of an unblemished animal as a korban, he explains, is that of absolute dedication of one’s entire self—personality, capabilities, and aspirations—to God and His Torah. A defective limb in an animal which is being so dedicated carries the message that an aspect of the person’s personality is being excluded from this total commitment to God, a part of his life over which he intends to retain autonomy and place beyond the reach of the Torah’s commandments. Despite the practical reality of human frailty and imperfection, it is axiomatic that man must accept that the basis of his relationship with God be all-encompassing.

In a further explanation of the invalidity of both Kohanim and animals with blemishes, R’ Hirsch draws upon his perspective of the Mikdash and the role that it is intended to fulfil within the Jewish nation. Examining the function commonly played by religion and places of worship among the other nations, he writes:

Their priests and sanctuaries await the misfortune and grief of their believers…Religion to them is a consolation for the suffering and disadvantaged…[but]…does not hold sway in life that is vibrant and effervescent.

In Judaism, by contrast, the Mikdash represents its religious ideal: total commitment to God, not out of grief or a feeling of deficiency, but rather from recognition of the inherent goodness and truth of God and His Torah. This ideal of serving God positively through strength, joy and clarity of mind is represented by the requirement that all aspects of the Mikdash service, including the Kohanim who perform it and the korbanot which are to be offered, display the impression of “tamim” completeness. Judaism Reclaimed shows how this principle is strongly reflected by other laws such as the emphasis on light (Menorahs) in the Mikdash, where korbanot were offered only in daylight hours and in a state of total sobriety. This in stark contrast to the atmosphere of darkness, mystery, and fear which would typically prevail in pagan temples. Most striking, however, is the extent to which the Mikdash service and its priests are kept completely apart from any contact or association with death by the laws of tumah. This point is explored by Rabbi Simi Lerner in the second half of his superb weekly Rav Hirsch podcast http://www.ravhirsch.org/p/top-10-1473077106/.

R' Hirsch’s understanding of the Mikdash’s laws and service being intended to signal the ideal of worshipping God through strength, joy and clarity is built upon in the second half of the chapter. We draw upon the early section of Halakhic Man, where the Rav launches a stinging attack on the vacuous spirituality that he believed has crept into Judaism as an escape from rational doubts and challenges. Thus

“religion should ally itself with the forces of clear, logical cognition, as uniquely exemplified by the scientific method, even though at times the two may clash with one another, rather than pledge its troth to beclouded, mysterious ideologies that grope in the dark corners of existence, unaided by the shining light of objective knowledge, and believe that they have penetrated to the secret core of the world”

This he contrasts with halachah, a central pillar of Judaism, which requires a Jew to grapple constantly with the intricate and diverse elements of the world, using clear intellect to encompass within his intellect the will and wisdom of God.

The chapter concludes with a lengthy analysis of R’ Hirsch’s rejection of what he felt were two erroneous approaches to religion. First is the ultra-emotional emphasis which places the subjective “feeling of utter dependence on God” at the pinnacle of religious meaning. This approach, which was popularised by certain Christian movements in Germany in his day, was strongly rejected by R’ Hirsch, who sought to demonstrate that Judaism requires emotion and feeling to be subservient to its laws. Many who place R’ Hirsch and Rambam together in the category of “Rationalist Sages” are shocked to discover, however, that Rambam’s “Arab-Greek” philosophical worldview – which elevates the comprehension of Divine truths to an ultimate goal – is the subject of an even stronger critique from R’ Hirsch.

The Hirschian understanding of Judaism concludes that, while the Torah appeals to both human feeling and intellect, it is neither the sublime emotional experience nor abstract philosophical speculation of the Divine that represents the Torah’s ultimate goal. When utilized to comprehend and attach a person to the Torah’s laws and teachings, both intellect and emotion are enriched and can claim legitimacy. Any attempt, however, to elevate emotional experience or intellectual speculation to represent the Torah’s ultimate purpose, and by extension to subordinate the Torah’s commandments to the facilitation of this greater goal, is viewed by R’ Hirsch as an illegitimate intrusion on the sovereign status of Torah law.

First posted on Facebook 7 May 2020, here.

From biblical bad guys to oral law role models

There is a conflict between biblical accounts of wrongdoing by figures such as Yehudah and King David, which criticise them, and parallel accounts in the Oral Tradition, which exonerate or even praise them. This conflict tends to generate lively discussion and strong opinions on either side. Devotees of peshat– the simple meaning of the text – argue fiercely for the primacy of the biblical text over subsequent aggadic reinterpretations, while their opponents point to Talmudic statements to the effect that a literal rendition of the text, unaccompanied by the context of Rabbinic teachings, is mistaken and therefore illegitimate.

Judaism Reclaimed grapples with this sensitive topic at the conclusion of its chapter on parashat Ki Teitze, which examines the functions and broader relationship between the Written Torah and the Oral Tradition. Our analysis starts with Ben Sorer Umoreh – the Wayward and Rebellious Son. The written law depicts in vivid detail how the delinquent youth is delivered to and denounced before the Court by his own parents before suffering a stony death. The oral law however presents a surprising alternative:

“R’ Shimon said: …it never happened and never will happen. Why then was this law written? — That you may study it and receive reward. R. Jonathan said: 'I saw [a Ben Sorer Umoreh] and sat on his grave'.”

Having examined several inherent difficulties presented by the Gemara’s presentation of this dispute, the essay progresses to its primary theme: the dissonance between the positions presented (here and elsewhere) by the written and oral components of the Torah. We use Rambam’s dual interpretation of “Eye for an Eye” as a key to resolving these inconsistencies. First, in his Commentary to the Mishnah and Mishneh Torah (“these interpretations are obvious from the study of the Written Law … and have been implemented in every single Jewish court from Moshe until today”) Rambam emphatically rejects the notion that the biblical ruling was ever intended to be implemented literally. When explaining this phrase in Moreh Nevuchim however, Rambam focuses only on the literal measure-for-measure disclosed by the biblical text: “the intention here is to explain the verses [of the Torah] not the words of the Talmud”).

What emerges is a hypothesis based on a two-tier didactic system of Jewish law and values. The first tier is the core divine wisdom contained within the Torah’s written text, while the second is the relative flexibility of the Oral Law to cater – within acceptable boundaries – to the realities and weakness of the human condition. This idea is developed further with the suggestion that the Written Torah represents God’s attribute of strict Justice (which demands a literal “Eye-for-an-Eye” etc) while the Oral Tradition moderates this in light of the frailties of human reality and on the basis of God’s attribute of mercy. (This has a parallel in the writings of Rav Kook, here).

Armed with this principle, the chapter progresses to apply it beyond the Torah’s legal passages. The Talmud teaches that the righteous are judged by God in a truer, more intimate way, “kechut hasa’arah” – in accordance with His attribute of justice. Putting all of this together, the biblical text discloses the very real sins of its heroes, but told from the harshly critical perspective of God’s attribute of justice by which they are held fully accountable for any slight misstep.

By contrast, the attempted justifications and excuses advanced in the Oral Tradition can perhaps be seen as describing the reality of these sins on a level in which the nation as a whole would perceive and relate to them. From this perspective, in the words of Shabbat 56a “Whoever says that King David sinned is surely mistaken”. This means that whoever reads the biblical account literally, failing to make an allowance for its critical agenda when judging the righteous, will be left with an inaccurate impression of what the Torah intended to convey.

This approach bears the potential to shed light on peculiarities and ambiguities from within the written text itself, which uses King David as a gold standard against which subsequent kings – even the righteous Hezekiah and Josiah – are measured. Were David truly the adulterous murderer implied by a simple reading of the text, it would hardly be an accolade to write of these kings that they “followed in all of his paths”. This more balanced approach may also help us to understand subsequent prophetic pronouncements of Divine endorsement of the Davidic dynasty through which King David has become inextricably linked with the very idea of a future utopian Messianic era in Jewish thought.

First posted to Facebook 26 August 2020, here.

Responding to the Lag be'Omer tragedy

It is human nature to want to explore and suggest reasons for significant worldly phenomena and occurrences, particularly tragic events which strike at the heart of our own communities. As religious people, whose outlook and perspective of the world is premised upon a core belief in an all-powerful and providential God, our pain directs us to look for messages that God may be intending to send us. Some kind of constructive lesson that can, to a degree, enable us to rationalise and make some kind of sense of a tragic occurrence.

At this time of national mourning, I am reminded of a tragic episode a few years ago (and which I’ve mentioned in a previous post).

A bus crash on the outskirts of Jerusalem claimed a number of young Haredi lives. As the community mourned, Pashkevilim and religious media inevitably began to point fingers at the usual suspects including smartphones, silk wigs and insufficient Torah study. One thoughtful response, however, contained in a letter from the late Haredi leader, Rabbi Aharon Yehuda Leib Shteinman, caught my attention. Its profound message and direction has sadly not received the attention that it deserves:

“Even in the times of prophets they did not, except for few specific exceptions, pronounce for what reason God had brought certain things upon us…therefore it behooves us to improve ourselves but there is no question as to which area must be strengthened, for in any area that we improve there is benefit…”

This emphasis on seeking the correct response to tragedy rather than speculating as to its spiritual underpinnings is a prevalent theme in the writings of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik. In Kol Dodi Dofek he argues:

“We do not wonder about the ineffable ways of the Holy One, but instead ponder the paths man must take when evil leaps up at him. We ask not about the reason for evil and its purpose, but rather about its rectification and uplifting. How should a man react in a time of distress...In general the purpose of suffering is to repair the imperfection in man’s persona. The halakha teaches us that an afflicted person commits a criminal act if he allows his pain to go for naught and to remain without meaning or purpose.”

Unlike the bus crash Rav Shteinman was responding to, however, initial reports concerning events at Meron on Thursday night indicate that a more systematic failure seems to lie behind the disaster (the second tragic event of this sort to have occurred at Meron on Lag Be’omer).

As I go through in Judaism Reclaimed, Rambam considers that the vast majority of human suffering and misery in this world is caused not by God, but by poor human decision-making. Errors of judgment from people who lack proper character training, perspective and priorities in life.

The best way to honour the memory of the deceased is not to politicise the tragedy or to seek a version of the narrative that accords with our own political/religious affiliations and ideas. Nor should difficult questions be deflected with simplistic assertions that “whatever happened was God’s will and not for us to examine”. But rather it is for all involved to set aside egos and personal interest so that an open and honest investigation can take place. The best way to honour the victims is to allow this tragedy to change our societies for the better – and to ensure that such heart-breaking scenes are never to be repeated in the future.

First posted to Facebook 2 May 2021, here.

No man is an island? Individualism in Rambam's worldview

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Bemidbar begins by examining how the Torah approaches census-taking, before exploring the delicate balance between individual and communal needs – particularly from Rambam’s perspective. An earlier parashah has already taught us not to undertake a simple headcount “so that there will not be a plague in their counting”. Malbim understands that, as in parashat Ki Tisa, the census here was performed by collecting half-shekel coins. He then offers a rationale: such a census, emphasizing the standing of each family and tribe, bore the potential to undermine the unity and, with it, the national providential protection which the Jewish people merited. This was rectified by each person sending a half-shekel to public funds, symbolising that the individual can become complete only by uniting with others.

Malbim’s emphasis on the importance of community does not always seem to be supported, however, from Rambam’s writings. We cite several passages, such as his advice to a person to flee to the deserts and caves rather than remain in a city of sinners. Rambam’s emphasis on the individual appears to be driven by his understanding of the afterlife: 

“Ultimate perfection, however, pertains to you alone, no one else being associated in it with you in any way…therefore, you ought to desire to achieve this thing, which will remain permanently with you, and not weary or trouble yourself for the sake of others” .

Rambam’s statements, however, must be read in combination with his conclusion in Moreh Nevuchim: the individual’s intellectual connection to God does not by itself represent humanity’s crowning accomplishment. Quoting Yirmiyah, Rambam writes that the purpose of a person’s life should be 

“to comprehend and know Me for I am God who performs kindness, justice, and righteousness in the world, for these I desire”. 

It is not sufficient merely “to comprehend and know Me”—a task limited to gaining an abstract intellectual perception of God. Rather, a person’s ultimate achievement is to understand, internalize, and perform “Godly acts” of kindness. While this conclusion is difficult to reconcile with much of Rambam’s philosophical writings, which focus on the individual’s mission to form an intellectual connection with God, it is apparently more consistent with the model of the “holy men of Judaism” such as Avraham and Moshe, who are revered and acclaimed for their dedication to and assistance of the masses rather than for living lives of secluded contemplation.

Judaism Reclaimed synthesizes Rambam’s range of writings on the individual-community balance and proposes that he might have intended a three-stage process for drawing close to God. Accordingly, his opening Hilchot De’ot advice to distance from evil-doers and writings which endorse seclusion are directed at toward the “common man” who is still taking the initial steps in this journey. This first stage requires isolation from detrimental influences so as to facilitate meditation on and internalization of the Torah and Divine truths. As the isolated individual gradually perceives and connects to God, he undergoes a profound change which leads him to the second stage of his journey toward “ultimate perfection.” The final chapter of Hilchot Teshuvah describes how knowledge and understanding of God’s truths lead one to a deep attachment and “lovesick” obsession with God and His Torah. In Moreh Nevuchim, Rambam explains how this “obsession” it involves the person’s mind constantly being focused on God, despite simultaneous involvement in worldly affairs.

The concluding comments of Moreh Nevuchim, which advise a more public-spirited outlook, are seemingly addressed to one who has achieved the second level, “to comprehend and know Me,” thereby forming the constant mental connection with God. That person can now concentrate on emulating and ‘partnering’ God’s acts of kindness , conditioning and guiding the masses toward a connection with God and His truths.

Judaism Reclaimed proposes that this is the key to unlocking not only inconsistencies in Rambam’s writings, but can also explain some apparently contradictory phenomena from Rambam’s own life. We note and quote how Maimonidean scholars struggle to reconcile the altruistic and public-spirited Rambam with the individualistic philosophical model that he appeared to endorse, suggesting that different periods of his life may correspond to these respective stages of his writings.

The chapter concludes with a fascinating idea from Rabbi S. R. Hirsch on the extent to which people should be involved with or isolated from a community which falls short of their personal standards and values. Drawing on details of Avraham’s living arrangements and locations, R’ Hirsch understands that Avraham sought to balance Yitzchak’s upbringing and education away from the Canaanite influences while still avoiding total isolation. He concludes that education of the young is certainly advantageous in an environment which is generally positive toward the values being imparted. Complete isolation, however, which denies the student all contact with people of contrasting lifestyles and ideas, is a “dangerous educational mistake”: a young person who lacks the chance to compare his parents’ morals and ideals to those of others, is unlikely to appreciate and respect the contrast between the two. This in turn places him at risk of falling to outside influences whenever he first encounters them.

First posted to Facebook 20 May 2020, here.