Cross-currents, TheTorah.com and an ongoing controversy

Recent weeks have seen an explosion of online discussion and debate concerning theTorah.com, a website which describes its purpose as “Torah study informed and enriched by contemporary scholarship”. A provocative article last month in Ha’aretz, an Israeli newspaper, celebrated the primary mission of Torah.com as “introducing religious Jews to contemporary biblical scholarship, which assumes that the Torah was written by people over time and should not be taken literally”. Most controversially, the article repeatedly identified the website’s content and authors as Orthodox – a description which has caused a stir.

This drew strong responses on the Cross-Currents.com website, which comments on Jewish thought from a more a traditional perspective. R’ Avrohom Gordimer argued that “TheTorah.com is a website run by Jews who for the most part refer to themselves as Orthodox, but who have rejected paramount Orthodox beliefs”. What particularly bothered Gordimer, however, was that unlike other clearly non-Orthodox websites which present embrace the conclusions of biblical criticism, “TheTorah.com cleverly masks its true nature, due to the self-proclaimed Orthodoxy of its management and many of its writers”. A more measured follow-up from R’ Yitzchok Adlerstein wrote that “no one has come up with anything resembling “proof” of the non-existence of G-d, or the non-Divinity of the Torah…there are multiple and competing ways of interpreting evidence… What should happen at that point to anyone who had a good relationship with HKBH, is that loyalty to Him should take over.”

This latter point was also the subject of a post by the prominent and prolific YU blogger and social media personality, Steve Gotlib. Gotlib criticises TheTorah.com’s typically condescending contention that “the contemporary educated world approaches the Torah as a composite work”, writing that “the view of the Torah as a composite work is NOT universally held in the academic world. Rabbi Dr. Joshua Berman (himself an Academic Biblical Scholar) has loudly made this point many times and has been actively fighting against this false-portrayal of the academic world”.

One important difference between the articles however is in their proposed solutions. While Gotlib suggests improving the Orthodox educational framework in order to help it rise to such challenges, R’ Adlerstein seeks to reaffirm the prohibition against involvement in study of biblical criticism.

Judaism Reclaimed analyses these two contrasting approaches to thorny theological questions in its introductory chapter (fully available on the JudaismReclaimed.com website), noting they are both reflected in early debates in Jewish thought. I proceed to argue however that, in a modern era of widespread and uncontrollable discussion of Torah fundamentals through blogs, internet forums, and other social media, the option of secluding oneself from troubling questions and viewpoints has become increasingly difficult to maintain. Support for this assertion is drawn from R’ Shimon Schwab, who presented a similar conclusion, even in an earlier, pre-internet generation.

In this atmosphere of open debate and inquiry, refusal to engage with such issues is liable to be interpreted by the perplexed of today’s online generation as a sign of weakness—or worse, as a concession that one has nothing to say and that those who propound views that are hostile to the received Jewish tradition are right.

Rabbi Dr. Joshua Berman wrote a few years back (Q and A on TorahMusings.com) that:

“When a young mind is first introduced to anything relating to the Torah and the ancient Near East by a beloved and trusted rebbe, it sends the message that we need not be afraid. 90% of the battle is already won on this front, and the chances that the student will experience a crisis of faith later on are greatly diminished. We get into trouble precisely when our young men and women…realize that they went through their entire day school career with the wool pulled over their eyes.”

It is in this spirit that Judaism Reclaimed dedicated a number of its chapters to addressing some of these challenges to Orthodox Jewish faith. These chapters are not intended as exhaustive resources, but rather a brief summary of the range of approaches to these matters including thinkers such as Rambam, R’ S. R. Hirsch, Malbim, Netziv, R’ J. B. Soloveitchik, R’ Mordechai Breuer, R' Amnon Bazak and of course from R’ Berman (whose upcoming book on the subject is greatly anticipated).

This is certainly not to suggest that involvement in such study is without risks. Our opening chapter emphasises how such study should be supported and underpinned by the spiritual dimension of Judaism which can provide support when the intellectual route fails to offer immediately satisfactory answer to all challenges.

The final word goes to R’ Soloveitchik, who wrote in an early footnote to Halakhic Man:

“And when the Torah testified that Israel, in the end, would repent out of anguish and agony…it had in mind not only physical pain but also spiritual suffering. The pangs of searching and groping, the tortures of spiritual crises and exhausting treks of the soul purify and sanctify man, cleanse his thoughts and purge them of the husks of superficiality and the dross of vulgarity. Out of these torments there emerges a new understanding of the world, a powerful spiritual enthusiasm that shakes the very foundations of man’s existence. He arises from the agonies, purged and refined, possessed of a new heart and spirit…”

First posted on Facebook 8 December 2019, here.

Half shekels, plagues and communal responsibility

We read today in the opening verses of Ki Tisa that counting the Jewish People is not a simple process: each person was required to give a coin which would then be counted “so that there will be no plague” caused by a direct headcount. This system was also employed for the census in parashat Bemidbar. How are we to understand the relationship between undertaking a census and the threat of a plague? And in what way is the danger countered by collecting coins instead of counting people?

Judaism Reclaimed develops the interpretation of Malbim, who writes that there is a hashgachah clalit—collective Divine providence—which protects and guides the Jewish nation as a whole. The strength of this hashgachah clalit is influenced by the level of social unity exhibited by the nation, a unity which is undermined by counting, and thereby reckoning, each person separately (and according to their particular tribe and family).

With the world’s attention currently focused on battling the Coronavirus, it occurred to me that there are two crucial messages which can be drawn from this teaching. The first revolves around the widespread popular and media obsession with statistics: of those quarantined, sick or dead from the virus in various countries. Joseph Stalin is reputed to have stated that “a single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic”. Taking a census by means of personal contributions rather than a detached headcount guides us to focus on the community as a group of valuable people, each of whom makes his or her own unique contribution to the whole.

In addition, Malbim infers a key message from the fact that each individual contributed only a half rather than a whole shekel. By giving only half a shekel, we are invited to recognise that none of us are complete as free standing individuals. We can become ‘whole’ and perfect only by combining with the community and working for its greater benefit.

While Malbim presented these lessons in the context of maximising the benefits of the community’s Divine protection, it appears that his words take on an additional, practical dimension in the states of emergency which are being declared across the globe. We find ourselves in a situation in which the majority of the population are being asked to inconvenience themselves greatly – restrictions on schools, work places and even self-isolation orders – in order to protect the lives and well-being of the more vulnerable among us. Now more than ever we need to internalise this message of the “half shekel offering to the Lord” from today’s Torah reading. By recognising the inherent worth of each and every individual and reminding ourselves of the value of the entire community, we should be more motivated and inspired to take the necessary precautions to ensure that לא יהיה נגף there will be no plague among any of us.

First posted to Facebook 14 March 2020, here.

Tzora'at, Coronavirus and biblical quarantines

With infectious disease and the measures taken by governments to combat its spread dominating news cycles and indeed all aspects of our lives, this parashah’s laws of two-week quarantines and social distancing are likely to take on an unusually familiar feel. The similarities can draw support from traditional commentators, many of whom understood that tzara’at posed a contagious threat to those surrounding the invalid; the author of the Hertz Chumash went as far as to identify it with various forms of known skin diseases.

Such commentators were firmly within the sights of Rabbi S. R. Hirsch, who presents a series of powerful arguments against the proposition that tzara’at corresponds with any known or infectious disease. With his typical focus on the finer details of mitzvot, R’ Hirsch points out how exceptions to the rules, such as a person whose body is entirely covered by the discolouration being automatically declared pure, point firmly away from any interpretation of tzara’at based on infection. Most striking for me, writing from Jerusalem where we have just experienced a near-total lockdown to prevent festive Pesach mingling, are the rulings which prevent any declarations of impurity during the crowded pilgrimages to Jerusalem or wedding celebrations. It is also notable that the tzara’at marks, which can afflict clothes and homes as well as skin, could not render impure any buildings in Jerusalem – a likely travel-hub given that it was the location of the Beit HaMikdash.

Instead, R’ Hirsch demonstrates, tzara’at is viewed by Jewish tradition as a spiritual malady which can become visible on the skin of a person whose observance of the interpersonal dimension of the Torah has fallen short of the required standard. This appears to be borne out by biblical instances of tzara’at: afflicting Miriam in the aftermath of her slanderous speech, Gehazi following his underhand attempt to extract money from Na’aman, and King Uzziah for his haughty insistence that his royal privilege entitled him to offer ketoret in the Mikdash. The purpose of the skin marking and subsequent quarantine is that it is supposed to serve as a Divinely-instigated indicator that the person’s conduct has fallen short, following which they undergo a period of contemplative seclusion and introspection.

R' Hirsch’s strong insistence that tzara’at is divinely ordained rather than a response to known contagious disease appears to be borne out by Rambam who writes in Mishneh Torah that:

This change that affects clothes and houses which the Torah described with the general term of tzara'at is not a natural occurrence. Instead it is a sign and a wonder prevalent among the Jewish people to warn them against lashon hora, "undesirable speech".

Rambam proceeds to explain the didactic process of tzara’atas well as detailing the poisonous potential of leaving the habits of idle and evil speech untreated.

Judaism Reclaimed explores the broader notion of ritual impurity in a couple of its chapters, providing alternatives to the suggestion that laws of tumah and taharah represented ancient sanitary and hygiene guidance. While citing the mystical view of tumah as a form of impure spiritual presence, and Rambam’s approach which sees it as a set of laws which promote (among other things) reverence of the Mikdash and holy matters, Judaism Reclaimed focuses primarily on the moral-symbolic approach promoted by R’ Hirsch. Upcoming posts will explore the Hirschian understanding of ritual impurity, with particular interest paid to the ritual impurity of the yoledet (woman who has recently given birth) and tumat met (corpse).

First posted on Facebook 18 April 2020, here.

Halachah in exile: rigidity, dispute and "the words of the living God"

Our previous post, Rambam and Decline of the Generations, introduced the Meshech Chochmah’s suggestion that our parashah warns of a loss of Torah wisdom in its tochachah-punishments. This suggestion was then developed and led to an exploration of the notion of ‘generational decline’ from a Maimonidean perspective. This post will look at another dimension of this loss of Torah knowledge which Judaism Reclaimed examines: the consequent rigidity of the halachic system and proliferation of dispute.

The Meshech Chochmah describes the dynamic role performed by the Sanhedrin of innovating (in accordance with the rules transmitted to them) in order to ensure that the Torah was suited to guide each generation according to its needs. Quoting Rambam’s introduction to Mishneh Torah, he laments that, as a result of exile, the nation suffered a diminution of Torah scholarship as well as the total loss of the Sanhedrin and ruach hakodesh. These losses necessitated the fixing and recording of the Oral Law. Since the time of the Mishnah, no beit din has had permission to innovate any matter. This inability to innovate or develop the Torah through hermeneutical interpretations or Rabbinic decrees, the Meshech Chochmah continues, has led to a questioning of the Torah’s continued relevance and application in a modern era, and is an inevitable result of the exile predicted in the tochachah.

Our chapter cites Talmudic examples of this previous halachic flexibility, such as frequent changes to rules of muktzeh and havdallah,which were based on the circumstances of the generation, and lenient rulings in matters of Torah law where the community was unable to afford required sacrifices. Rabbi David Nieto (Mateh Dan) writes that the persecution and exile also caused the oral tradition to fix numerous laws – such as order of prayers – which had previously been governed by individual autonomy or local custom. Significant variation in Talmudic accounts of tefillin and tzitzit– as well as unearthed ancient specimens – would appear to support this proposition.

A further phenomenon which Rambam attributes to the Roman persecution at the end of the Second Temple period is the proliferation of halachic disputes. This manifested itself in two ways. First, by limiting or at times totally preventing the effective functioning of the Sanhedrin (the supreme legal body charged with resolving halachic disputes as soon as they arose), the persecution led to differences of opinion between Sages both becoming more entrenched and to their being transmitted to students in their unresolved form. Secondly, the oppression and anti-religious decrees severely inhibited the teaching of Torah. As well as causing direct loss of Torah knowledge and expertise, generations of students with limited exposure to their Rabbinic teachers increasingly argued as to the details of transmitted halachic teachings.

Our attention then turns to the difficult question of how we are to relate, in today’s generation, to a Torah and religion which contains so many apparently contradictory and irreconcilable concepts, approaches, and opinions. In halachah and aggadah we are guided by the axiom of “eilu va’eilu divrei Elokim chayim”—all parties to a dispute represent equally the word of God. But at first sight, this merely deepens the problem: How can clearly conflicting viewpoints all be said to emanate from a single Divine source?

This question of how we are to understand the notion of how God can be taken to have endorsed both parties to a dispute is posed by a Gemara in the context of a debate over the cause of strife between a Benjaminite man and his concubine in the Book of Judges. The Gemara describes Eliyahu HaNavi reporting to one of the disputants, R’ Evyatar, that God was “busy studying the portion of pilegesh b’Give’ah,” and had approved both opinions, since eilu va’eilu divrei Elokim chayim. Probed further by R’ Evyatar as to how God could be in doubt with regard to the true nature of a historical event, Eliyahu explained that both factors cited in the debate were indeed contributing factors to the strife, and together could produce an accurate account of the episode.

A similar explanation is offered by Rashi elsewhere to explain how eilu va’eilu can be applied to a halachic debate. Rashi writes that both parties to the dispute are using their logic to determine how the case in question can be related most precisely to existing halachic principles and precedent. Both positions can therefore be assumed to represent equally valid applications of halachic methodology. Therefore, with sufficient scholarship, we could potentially subdivide the question into multiple scenarios, allowing each party’s argument to be adopted where more appropriate.

Further lengthy discussions include speculation as to how this technique might be applied to the rationalist and mystical traditions within Judaism (both of which accuse the other of having been infiltrated by external influences as a result of exile) as well as a detailed analysis of other aspects of Tannaic dispute such as the role of ethics in determining halachahand the origin of the oral tradition’s hermeneutical principles for interpreting the Torah. We also examine the potential obstacles that stand in the way of reintroducing flexibility into the current halachic system.

First posted to Facebook 14 May 2020, here.

Judaism Reclaimed reviewed

Now for a discussion of Judaism Reclaimed with Rabbi Joseph Dwek. You can access it here.

First posted on Facebook 17 May 2020, here.

One Torah to guide them all: divine depictions and careful contradictions

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Beha’alotecha opens by observing how the parashah’s narratives provide a clear insight into the broad range of spiritual levels that existed among the Jewish People in the Wilderness. We look at how the Torah caters for this diversity with laws which are nuanced and applicable to people on all different rungs of the ladder of spiritual growth.

This aspect of the Torah’s breadth of applicability is of primary concern to Rambam, who places great emphasis on the ability of the Torah to be relevant to the entire nation. For this reason, he explains, the Torah adopts a style of depicting God through the extensive use of anthropomorphism that, if taken literally, is not merely inaccurate but actually blasphemous. Rambam justifies this practice by invoking the maxim dibrah Torah belashon bnei adam — that the Torah ‘’talks in the language of man’’ in order to ensure that God’s existence is fully accepted and understood, even by people whose minds are equipped to relate only to physical existence rather than metaphysical spirituality. The Torah therefore describes God in human terms, portraying Him as moving, speaking and standing — activities which are truly applicable only to physical beings. The use of such terms implies that God’s actions are governed by the same physical limitations as man; they are therefore blasphemous when applied to God.

While the Torah employs anthropomorphic terminology when describing God and His actions, the Targum plays the crucial role of indicating to readers that anthropomorphic descriptions are not to be understood literally. Rambam writes glowingly of how Onkelos’ “translations” subtly departed from the Torah’s literal physical descriptions of God while doing so in a way that the masses were able to comprehend. Onkelos achieved this by, for example, referring in the context of God “moving” to God’s Shechinah (Presence) rather than God Himself, and by God “revealing Himself” rather than descending (a verb that depicts motion from one place to another). Rambam’s position is consistent with the great importance accorded to the Targum by the Gemara, which writes that the Targum Onkelos is an explanation of the Torah’s text which can be traced back to Ezra and which, the commentaries tell us, was part of the oral tradition which originated from Sinai.

Rambam’s position on anthropomorphism, specifically the notion that the Torah initially encourages heretical views as a necessary stepping-stone to achieving true beliefs – is one that many are liable to find shocking. A broader perspective of Rambam’s approach, however, allows one to appreciate that the Torah’s function is not to confront the Jewish People abruptly with a list of strict truths and harsh demands. Rather, it is a handbook which has been drafted in such a way as to coax and guide them towards correct conduct and beliefs (we examine certain examples of this phenomenon). The tension which arises from the need to incorporate within a single system both the ideal pursuit of divine truths and the common perception of religious piety is a central theme in Rambam’s thought, and underlines the Torah’s ability to cater simultaneously for multiple religious levels within the Jewish People.

The late Prof. Marvin Fox writes, in his highly-recommended Interpreting Maimonides, that it is this tension between which underlies the phenomenon of the “contradictions” which Rambam discusses in his introduction to Moreh Nevuchim. Responding to the Maimonidean theories advanced by academics such as Leo Strauss, who understood Rambam to be hinting that he had been forced to conceal his true radical views from the ‘masses’, Fox argues instead that they are indicative of Rambam’s religious realism. Rambam was acutely aware of the delicate balance which must be maintained between what he saw as the Torah’s ultimate goal of elevated intellectual connection to God on the one hand and the practical realities and imperfections of everyday religious engagement on the other.

In one example, he cites the claim of Maimonidean contradiction on the subject of prayer. Rambam teaches the philosophical truth that the only true praise of God is silence, since we are unable to formulate any accurate descriptions of God’s attributes. Yet he also codifies and upholds liturgical references to God being, among other things, “great and mighty”, tacitly recognising the need of the human spirit to express itself in words. Fox concludes that, in allowing both the denial of divine attributes and the duty to pray, Rambam “seems to affirm that there must be a place within a single system for the demands of both religious piety and philosophical truth”.

First posted on Facebook 7 June 2020, here.

A time for peace, a time for violence?

The painful images and accounts which have confronted us in recent days, first of the callous murder of a restrained black man at the hands of a policeman, and then of the widespread violent protests and looting that the murder triggered, have left many of us searching for an authentically ‘Jewish’ response to these events. Judaism Reclaimed explores the meaning and application of the notions of peace, zealotry and violence within the Torah in the context of its analysis of the complex religious personality of Pinchas and Eliyahu. A few important conclusions are offered:

The Concept of Peace. Rabbi S. R. Hirsch argues that the Torah’s conception of peace is a far more profound and noble concept than mere passivity or absence of violence. It represents a positive state of pursuing a common and unselfish higher goal – specifically that of serving God. It follows that a society which is plagued by division and discrimination, where certain groups perceive that their voices, needs and aspirations are inadequately represented, can never be truly at ‘peace’. It can at best produce an illusory peace –a lack of violence generated by a tense and typically unstable compromise between conflicting rival interests rather than the positive harmonious peace that we pray regularly for God to bestow upon us.

Acts of Violence. Building upon the above definition of peace, it can be demonstrated that the uncritical conflation of the notions of peace and passivity may be naive and at times even dangerous. One conspicuous example of this was the vilification of Winston Churchill in the 1930s as a “warmonger” for his insistence that Britain should rearm in the face of a growing Nazi threat, while Neville Chamberlain was considered the “man of peace” when he sought to appease German aggression. Thus acts of violence performed in pursuit of a greater aim of true peace may be considered justifiable, or even – as in the case of Pinchas – be deserving of a ‘Covenant of Peace’.

Limitations on Violence. While Judaism is therefore not a pacifistic religion, biblical approval for violent actions and uprisings is extremely limited and qualified. We demonstrate how the zealotry displayed by Pinchas and Eliyahu was approved in times of extreme national emergencies such as the immorality at Shittim and the horrific lawlessness in the episode of the Concubine at Giveah. Nevertheless, such an approach and conduct was strongly condemned by God (and Rabbinic commentators) when adopted more broadly, particularly when it would lead to suffering of innocents (such as Eliyahu demanding that God bring a famine to punish the idolatrous Israelite kingdom).

Disavowal of Violence as an Ideal: Biblical recognition of the notion of a ‘Time for War’ should not be mistaken for a broader approval or idealisation of violence. While meekness and passivity in the face of evil can make one complicit in its perpetration, the acts of violence that one is forced to undertake in this context should themselves be regarded as a necessarily evil and certainly not celebrated or adopted as an appropriate way of life. We cite the writings of Netziv as to how even biblically approved occasions of violence were accompanied by blessings or covenants of peace for the perpetrators. Those engaged in acts of war, even where justified and necessary, are susceptible to becoming hardened and increasingly prone to commit future acts of violence.

Similarly, while the possession and use of deadly weaponry may sometimes be legitimate and even obligatory, the Torah is careful to distance ife-shortening swords from the altar of God and the hands of those who have spilt blood from the construction of his Mikdash. It is with this perspective that we anticipate and pray for a future era when humanity will realise the follies of its selfish pursuits of power and wealth and the warfare and bloodshed that they generate. Only in such a world can the Jewish ideal finally be realised in which discrimination and division will be set aside and all Peoples will turn to serve God with a common voice. In such a setting, nations will “beat their swords into ploughshares, and theirspears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more”.

First posted on Facebook 4 June 2020, here.