A Jew for all seasons: does Judaism need synagogues?

 The peculiarities of Yomim Noraim services during the Covid-19 era have led many to re-evaluate their relationship with shul on the High Holy Days (“Weren’t shorter brighter services a breath of fresh air this year? Can they perhaps be similarly adapted on a more regular basis?”). Writing two centuries ago in Germany, Rabbi S. R. Hirsch had his own deep reservations about the nature of the Yomim Noraim services and, particularly, the impression of Judaism that they left less traditional Jews with.

For R’ Hirsch the phenomenon of Jews who only visited the Synagogue three days a year (or for formal rites of passage) was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, even this partial acquaintance has gratifying effects of demonstrating and enhancing Jewish identity and continuity. Nevertheless:

this sporadic relationship with Judaism has an exceptionally troublesome effect for it is limited to special times and occasions. If for a period of years our sole contact with Jewish institutions is limited to Rosh Hashanah or the Day of Atonement, and we behold Judaism only in the white vestments of the dead, then our relationship with Judaism dissipates even before we reach the happy festival of the booths and the happy Torah-celebration…the poetry of Judaism becomes reduced to eulogies and confessions of sin – and everything about Judaism becomes so bleak that we are unable to use it in our bright, fresh, happy, pulsating lives.

Judaism is a splendid life symphony of the times of the year, of which Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are only solemn introductions…the Jewish veneration of God does not peak with the Rosh Hashanah mood. God seeks the joyful sound of the soul…the joyous Sukkoth festival.

R’ Hirsch teaches that Judaism is about infusing our lives with meaning and vibrancy. Living and celebrating the Torah’s moral, spiritual and intellectual teachings. While the High Holy Days perform a crucial function of directing us to focus inwards and reassess our life goals and direction, it is the joyous festival of Sukkot which is more quintessentially ‘’Jewish’’ than the austere and intimidating aura prevalent in many Synagogues on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

This essay got me thinking: how applicable are R’ Hirsch’s observations in today’s generation? My impression of less observant Jews is that their Judaism certainly contains more positive elements than what R’ Hirsch describes. These may include identifying with or advocacy for Israel, Chanukah parties and communal social activities. Although I have also read about how a not-insignificant part of Jewish identity – particularly in the previous generation – lurks in the dark shadow of the Holocaust and national suffering.

In truth however, R’ Hirsch’s broader message is applicable just as much to fully observant Orthodox Jews – and perhaps particularly to them. A related teaching of R’ Hirsch implores his readers not to imagine that Judaism is primarily concentrated in the solemn confines of synagogues and study halls. Rather its moral and spiritual teachings must infuse and guide our every thought and action. How we conduct ourselves in the streets outside of the synagogues, how we interact with those around us in our lives – and particularly in our own homes. We must uncompromisingly reject the unspoken notion that regular attendance in Shul and Yom Kippur chest-beating somehow furnishes us with a “Get Out Of Fail Free” card which excuses undesirable behaviour at other times.

This year’s abrupt and painful shock to Jewish observance and communal prayer provides us a rare opportunity to re-evaluate not the length of our services nor the tunes of our Chazzan. But rather the relative degrees of importance that we place on the Synagogue within our broader Jewish lives, and on the solemn meditations of the Yomim Noraim versus a year-long embodiment of the Torah’s moral, spiritual and intellectual riches.

First posted to Facebook 30 September 2020, here.

Judaism Demystified: A Podcast for the Perplexed

I'm excited to share this link to the highly recommended podacst Judaism Demystified: A Podcast for the Perplexed which I joined recently for an episode to discuss the opening section of "Talmud Reclaimed."

Join us as we explore the current state of Halakha and the subconscious reverence for the Halakhic status quo. We discuss the pivotal role of the Sanhedrin in the Halakhic system, explaining why without it, we find ourselves in a "Halakhic Exile." We examine the binding nature and legislative scope of the Talmud, and the nuanced two-tiered Halakhic system as described by Rambam.

Also explored in this episode is my innovative interpretation of Taamei HaMitzvot (Reasons for the Commandments) in the Moreh HaNevukhim, critiquing the approach of Professor Christine Hayes, and how his legal system addresses the Havat Yair's problem of the existence of dispute in a system which requires faith in the effective transmission of Torah over thousands of years.

As we navigate the complexities of Torah law derivation and its perceived independence from God's will, we also explore why intricate debates and extensive Talmudic focus are essential - even within Rambam's approach to Talmud and Halakha.

Finally, we probe which aspects of biblical law have the potential for alteration, leaving us with a deeper understanding of Halachic evolution and its implications.

Tune in for a compelling conversation that challenges conventional perspectives and provides invaluable insights for those seeking a deeper understanding of Talmud.

This can also be listened to on Spotify (together with an Intro) here.

Please share this with anyone who may find it interesting!

First posted to Facebook 21 July 2024, here.

God only knows? Divine knowledge according to Rambam, Ralbag and Ibn Ezra

Guest post by Rabbi Dr Benjamin Elton, Chief Minister of The Great Synagogue, Sydney

The thorny theological challenge of relating to Divine knowledge – in particular as it can be reconciled with the doctrine of human free will – features in several chapters of Judaism Reclaimed. Perhaps the most radical position to be found in Jewish tradition is that of Ralbag (Gersonides), who concludes that God’s knowledge relates to “universals” of the various species but not to details – including details of specific human actions. Ralbag, writing in Book 3 of Milchamot Hashem, further claims that this was also the view of the famed Spanish sage Abraham Ibn Ezra.

When the Torah in this week’s parashah records God as saying “I will descend now and see, whether according to her cry, which has come to Me, they have done; [I will wreak] destruction [upon them]; and if not, I will know.”, Ibn Ezra appears to comment that God’s knowledge relates only to generalities (the Avi Ezer super-commentary by Rabbi Shlomo HaKohen of Lissa disputes this interpretation of Ibn Ezra’s words).

My intention here is not to advance the approach of Ralbag, which is certainly an outlier in Jewish thought, but rather to highlight the implications for our assessment of Rambam who people too-often attempt to characterise as a radical Aristotelian who allowed his Greek philosophy to dictate to his interpretations of the Torah. It is important to see how other Jewish thinkers of his era described him in this matter. Ralbag writes:

“It seems that Maimonides’ position on this question of Divine cognition is not implied by any philosophical principles; indeed, reason denies this view, as I will show. It seems rather that theological considerations have forced him to this view.”

In the essay below, Rabbi Dr Elton provides a fascinating insight into just how far Rambam strayed from Aristotelian thought on the subject of Divine knowledge. He explains in the process why it was repeated in Hilchot Teshuvah, despite having already been included in Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah where Rambam addresses the nature of the universe.

How does God think? Understanding Rambam H. Teshuva 5:5

I want to examine a passage in the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah which is regularly read and almost never understood. In the middle of Rambam’s Laws of Repentance he takes a philosophical detour and asks how it is possible to reconcile Divine foreknowledge with human free will. If God knows what we are going to do, how can we have the ability to choose whether to do it or not. Rambam answers:

Know, that the answer to this question is longer in measure than the earth and broader than the sea, and many great elements and ranking mountains are suspended thereon; but it is essential that you know this fundamental matter which I outline. In the second chapter of the treatise of Fundamentals of the Torah (2:9-10) it was already elucidated that the Holy One, blessed is He does not know of things with a knowledge which exists outside of Himself, like, for instance, people do, for they and their knowledge are two separate things; but, He, may His Name be exalted and his knowledge are One, and it is not within the power of the knowledge of man to attain this matter clearly, and even as it is not within the power of man to attain and find the truth of the Creator…

This being so, it is not within our intellectual power to know in what manner the Holy One, blessed is He knows all the creatures and their actions, but we do know without a doubt that man's behaviour is in the hand of man, and that the Holy One, blessed is He neither draws him nor issues edicts against him to do as he does. And, not solely because of having accepted the religion do we know that there is no predestination, but even by clear evidence of the words of wisdom. Because thereof it is said in prophecy that man is judged for his actions according to his actions, whether they be good or evil, and this is the very foundation upon which all the words of prophecy depend.

This is a difficult and perplexing passage. As Ra'avad noted, and protested against, Rambam’s explanation does not answer the question, it just raises a philosophical idea that by Rambam’s own admission no one can understand. Further, what is it doing in H. Teshuvah, especially when Rambam has already explained it earlier in the Mishneh Torah, in H. Yesodei HaTorah?

To understand this we have to look at the Aristotelian aspects of Rambam’s epistemology, and its connection with his theology. Aristotle (at least as understood in the Arabic philosophical tradition that Rambam inherited) saw that there was movement in the world and therefore posited a first mover which causes all the other movement. This mover (a sort of Aristotelian god) is entirely passive, eternal and perfect. As all things move towards perfection they are moving towards this first mover, which is the cause of all movement in the world. Part of its perfection is omniscience, but it is omniscience of a very particular type. It only knows universals, that is to say, the concept of a horse or a table. It does not know about particular horses and tables.

In that way, its knowledge is just like our knowledge, because our knowledge is also limited to the concepts of things but does not encompass the things themselves. Let us take an example. I have knowledge about horses in general, and I know some specific things about particular horses. But I don’t know everything about horses in general, or anything at all about every single horses that exists: everything they have ever done, and certainly not everything they will ever do. Furthermore, the knowledge I possess of these horses exists only in my head. I have taken sense data I have picked up in my encounters with horses, abstracted from that data and thereby created a piece of knowledge that resides inside my mind. What I know about horses is an abstract derived from all the data I have derived from real horses, that has been processed by my mind and exists in my mind. Thus in the case of myself and horses, and indeed every piece of knowledge that I have, the thing being thought about, the process of thinking, and the thinker, are all one. This is equally true of the Aristotelian first mover and of people.

But Rambam says explicitly that God and people do not think in the same way. That is because Rambam believes that God has knowledge that the Aristotelian first mover does not have. God knows every particular. What is more (and this is totally incomprehensible) God even has ‘knowledge’ of material things. That is an absurd concept to us, because a physical object cannot get into our minds. The idea of something exists in our mind, but obviously not the thing itself, that remains outside our mind. By contrast, all spiritual and material things exist in the mind of God. Indeed, they only exist at all because they exist in God’s mind. God did not acquire knowledge of them (if God ever acquired knowledge that would imply a change in God, and that is impossible), they exist because God ‘knows’ them. If that does not make sense to us, we should not be surprised. Rambam says explicitly that the human mind is incapable of comprehending such a notion. Therefore, while we and our knowledge are not one, because the horse or the table remains outside our minds, they are not outside the mind of God, because God and God’s knowledge are absolutely one. It is not within our ability to understand that concept, but it remains true.

Rambam expressed this in the Guide for the Perplexed (3:21)

Our knowledge is acquired and increased in proportion to the things known by us. This is not the case with God. His knowledge of things is not derived from the things themselves; if this were the case, there would be change and plurality in His knowledge; on the contrary, the things are in accordance with His eternal knowledge, which has established their actual properties, and made part of them purely spiritual, another part material and constant as regards its individual members, a third part material and changeable as regards the individual beings according to eternal and constant laws. Plurality, acquisition, and change in His knowledge is therefore impossible. He fully knows His unchangeable essence, and has thus a knowledge of all that results from any of His acts. If we were to try to understand in what manner this is done, it would be the same as if we tried to be the same as God, and to make our knowledge identical with His knowledge.

We can now see why Rambam included this point in H. Teshuvah 5:5. It is not an attempt at an answer at all, rather it is sharpening the question. It is easily possible to reconcile human free will with the sort of omniscience Aristotle’s first mover has. But the omniscience of God as Rambam understands it, seems totally incompatible, yet Rambam assures us that it remains the case. He tells us that it is ‘essential’ that we know that God’s knowledge of every details of past, present and future is absolute, and yet as he says at the end of the halakhah (in a statement which flows perfectly logically from what has come before) people have complete free will and are judged according to their exercise of it. That is why this brief discussion is repeated in H. Teshuvah, because it is the central concept that makes teshuvah compatible with Rambam’s concept of God.

I am grateful to the scholars I discussed this question with, especially Dr Daniel Davis.

First posted to Facebook 5 November 2020, here.

Must Noachides believe in God?

The Torah’s opening parshiyot contain several divine instructions, within which the Gemara finds references to the Seven Noachide commandments. In some of my recent reading – possibly in preparation for a follow-up volume to Judaism Reclaimed – I came across an interesting discussion as to the nature and function of these Noachide Laws.

On the one hand these laws, which govern basic human interactions and societal cohesion, have been seen by some to represent a form of Natural Law; a set of rules which could essentially have been established by any civilised society. This approach minimises the religious dimension of Noachide Law, regarding the code instead as a safeguard against humanity repeating its descent to the sort of moral degeneration embodied by the generation of the Flood.

In chapter 8 of his Hilchot Melachim, Rambam appears to take a very different approach:

“Anyone who accepts upon himself the fulfilment of these seven mitzvot and is precise in their observance is considered one of 'the pious among the gentiles' and will merit a share in the World to Come.

This applies only when he accepts them and fulfils them because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded them in the Torah and informed us through Moses, our teacher, that Noah's descendants had been commanded to fulfil them previously. However, if he fulfils them out of intellectual conviction, he is not a resident alien, nor of 'the pious among the gentiles,' nor of their wise men.”

For Rambam, it would seem, it is not sufficient for non-Jews simply to observe the seven laws. They must be motivated by (and therefore implicitly believe in) the existence of God and His revelation to Moshe. Setting aside Maimonidean complications regarding the role of such beliefs in meriting the World to Come, various commentators discuss what source Rambam may have relied on for this ruling.

Jewish philosopher Hermann Cohen objected that Rambam’s requirement effectively constituted an additional eighth Noachide commandment. Others view belief in God and revelation as a sort of ‘’meta-commandment’’ which transcends and provides the basis for all others. The Margoliot Hayam commentary to Tractate Sanhedrin argues that this required belief is implicitly contained within the Noachide prohibition against blasphemy.

On the basis of an idea discussed in Judaism Reclaimed, I would like to suggest that the very term “mitzvah” (commandment) used to describe these seven laws necessarily requires that the law has been legislated – and is therefore observed – as the result of a higher authority. If this is true, one who observes a law out of personal “intellectual conviction” alone cannot be said to be fulfilling a commandment.

This reading of Rambam is consistent with what he writes elsewhere concerning the concept of attributing reasons to mitzvot. While Rambam considers it praiseworthy to dwell upon the commandments and offer various rationales and possible benefits that they provide, it is fundamental for him that our relationship with the mitzvot is not limited to our subjective rationalisations. We may speculate upon and suggest reasons for the Torah’s laws regarding, for example, Niddah or prohibited foods. However, these speculations must be performed with recognition that the mitzvot are commandments from God, and not dependent therefore on our rationalisations for their legitimacy.

As Rambam expresses it in the conclusion of Hilchot Me’ilah:

“It is appropriate for a person to meditate on the judgments of the holy Torah and know their ultimate purpose according to his capacity. If he cannot find a reason or a motivating rationale for a practice, he should not regard it lightly…A person's natural inclination confronts him concerning…e.g., the prohibition of the meat of a pig, milk and meat, the calf whose neck is broken, the red heifer, and the goat sent to Azazel.”

And in Moreh Nevuchim 3:49 regarding laws for which we believe we know the reasons:

“…[J]ust as the things made by Him are totally perfect, so are His commandments totally just. However, our intellects are incapable of apprehending the perfection of everything that He has made and the justice of some of His commandments…What is hidden in both these areas is much more considerable than what is manifest.”

This need not be taken to the extremes proposed by Yeshayahu Leibowitz, who believed that reasons for religious commandments were beyond man's understanding, as well as irrelevant, and any attempt to attribute emotional significance to the performance of mitzvot was misguided and akin to idolatry.

Apparent reasons and benefits arising from mitzvot can certainly enrich their performance. We must never lose sight however of the meaning of the term “mitzvah”. Ultimately the law is a commandment from God and not contingent upon our understanding. Therefore, as Rambam teaches of the Noachide Laws, if one accepts and fulfils them merely out of “intellectual conviction” rather than as a revealed commandment of God, he or she has failed to observe a single Commandment.

First posted to Facebook 18 October 2020, here.

Sexual thoughts and mind control: the linguistics of Rambam and George Orwell

The chapters of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Vayigash explore Rambam’s strong legal and theological statements regarding sexual thoughts.

In both Mishneh Torah and Commentary on the Mishnah, Rambam requires that a man avoid all unnecessary interactions with women to whom he is not related. While these laws governing modesty and interactions between the genders are sometimes regarded as being intended solely to prevent actual immoral acts, Rambam, in both Moreh Nevuchim and Commentary to the Mishnah, emphasizes the importance of avoiding interactions which may arouse sexual thoughts. Moreh Nevuchim quotes in this context the Talmudic teaching that “thoughts of sin are more serious than the sin itself”. Why should this be?

Judaism Reclaimed addresses this question in the context of Rambam’s understanding that humanity’s “ultimate perfection” lies in transcending the subjective outlook dictated by our imagination and personal, selfish desires in order to relate to God and the world on the basis of “Divine truths”. The emphasis of Rambam’s ethical teachings is that by keeping one’s character traits in balance and under control, a person can minimise the distorting effect of any subjective or imaginative input when attempting to reach a rational understanding.

The category of subjective imaginative thoughts most likely to prevent a person from achieving this goal of an intellectual connection to God is that of sexual desire. It is a widely held belief, frequently utilized by marketing strategists, that a man’s imagination is immediately captured by and preoccupied with sexual thoughts. Advertising campaigns often attempt to exploit this neurological process by displaying a sexually suggestive image. The emotional faculties will instantly be activated by such an image, becoming unduly influential at the expense of the conscious rational element of the brain. The person’s mind will thus be subliminally drawn toward the message of the advertisement before the rational decision-making function of the cortex has become fully operative.

The gravity with which Rambam regards immoral thoughts may also hold the key to his much-derided and little-understood position that Hebrew is known as Lashon Hakodesh (the language of holiness) because no specific words describe sexual organs and the activities which they perform. Crucially, Rambam makes his claim regarding the significance of Lashon Hakodesh at the end of a long chapter dealing with the Torah’s attitude toward sexual thoughts and the dangers that they pose to a person trying to become more than “an animal in human form”.

In a theory associated with the linguist and anthropologist Franz Boas, language is understood to reflect the public thought and consciousness of the community in which it developed. Comparing the frequency of certain terms used by the Inuit of northern Canada with their English counterparts, Boas noted that, for example, “water” is expressed in numerous distinct terms in the English language including “water, lake, river, brook, and rain,” but only in variations of a single form by the Inuit. In contrast to this, Inuit languages contain multiple different roots for words describing various forms of the single English term “snow”.

Lashon Hakodesh’s unique status as the language of the Torah means that it reflects less the practical realities and attitudes of the Jewish community, and more the values and guidance of its Lawgiver. This is manifested in the fact that sexual organs and their activities, which weigh so heavily on the common thought-processes of the untrained human mind, do not merit even a single dedicated term in God’s holy language. As Rambam puts it:

Speech is among the properties of mankind granted by God through which he is distinguished from the animal kingdom…our language is termed “Lashon Hakodesh”…since this “Lashon Hakodesh” contains absolutely no term for the sexual organs, neither of males nor females, and not for the actual reproductive act…the intention with this is that these matters are improper to mention…

This connection between the functions of speech and thought permits the suggestion of an even more profound understanding of Rambam’s explanation of Lashon Hakodesh on the basis that language can influence and shape the thought processes of those who speak it. Accordingly, Rambam’s explanation reflects an approach to linguistics and human psychology which recognizes the possibility that a person’s thought patterns and ways of expression may be affected by his vocabulary, and more generally his language.

By limiting references to sexual activity and organs to euphemism, Lashon Hakodesh becomes a powerful weapon in the armoury of the Jew who is attempting to make his mind “holy”, by limiting the sexual thoughts and imagination which inhibit his intellect from perceiving God and His truths. Such an explanation for the significance of the Hebrew language is consistent with Rambam’s general view that the Torah’s greatness and holiness lie in its ability to relate to and elevate flawed human beings, rather than in mystical powers represented by the power or combinations of its letters.

Rambam’s explanation of the interplay between language and thought categories resonates with the later creation of “Newspeak” in George Orwell’s novel 1984. While the basic linguistic hypothesis underpinning Rambam’s understanding of Lashon Hakodesh and George Orwell’s Newspeak is similar, the ultimate aim of these two theories could not represent a greater contrast. In Orwell’s dystopian depiction, language is a tool of a totalitarian regime seeking to entrench its power by imposing a restrictive form of English in order to limit categories and capabilities of independent thought. For Rambam, however, the constraints of Lashon Hakodesh are intended to free the pure, rational intellect from the shackles of its imagination and emotive distortions, thereby enabling it to scale the heights of its true potential and achieve a Divine perspective and connection.

Rambam’s explanation of Lashon Hakodesh is taken to another level in the teachings of R Yosef Faur (Golden Doves With Silver Dots). Based upon these teachings his son, R Avraham Faur, argues that the Hebrew language forms and trains the mind subconsciously to think in divine terms ((https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5aG-PhDVEY&ab_channel=ToratAndalus– from 16:25). Golden Doves is a work which emphasises the importance of reading the Torah and Rabbinic texts through a traditional Israelite mindset rather than a Western perspective. It argues that a person’s thought processes and how one therefore will interpret a Scriptural or Rabbinic statement is inescapably tied to one’s language. And that this obstacle must be recognised and surmounted if the Torah’s true wisdom is to be accessed and truly comprehended.

First posted on Facebook 27 December 2020, here.