Friday, July 29, 2016

Parashas Pinchas: Non-intuitive Mishpatim

Artwork: Path to Exile, by Rebecca Guay


Parashas Pinchas: Non-intuitive Mishpatim

The 613 mitzvos can be divided into two categories: mishpatim and chukim

"Mishpatim" refers those mitzvos whose reasons are obvious, which are in line with our common sense, and which we would keep (in some form) even if we hadn't been commanded by the Torah. Examples include: giving tzedakah, honoring one's parents, not stealing, not murdering, loving one's fellow as oneself, not testifying falsely in court, etc. Almost all societies have their own versions of these mishpatim, since the need for them is evident. 

"Chukim" refers to those mitzvos whose reasons are not obvious, which are non-intuitive, and which we wouldn't keep were it not for the Torah. Examples include: not eating milk and meat together, performing the sacrificial service, not wearing a mixture of wool and linen, waving the four species on Sukkot, etc. All of the chukim have reasons, and they were commanded for our benefit, but the reasons are hidden, and require study and analysis to uncover. 

This week's parashah is the source for the laws of inheritance. Although the Torah allows a person to do pretty much whatever he wants with his possessions before his death, the Torah spells out exactly what happens to his possessions if he dies without expressing his will. There is a hierarchy as to which of his family members receives priority in the inheritance, leaving no room for ambiguity.

On the surface one would think that the mitzvah of inheritance falls into the category of mishpatim. All societies have some form of inheritance laws which dictate what happens to the possessions of the deceased. The reasoning behind these laws seems obvious.

The Sefer ha'Chinuch (mitzvah #400) would beg to differ. He provides the following explanation for the purpose of these laws:
At the root of the mitzvah [lies the aim] that a man should know and consider that the world lies in the hand of a Master Who watches over all His creatures, and that by His good will and desire, each and every one in the world merits the share of property that he attains in his world. His gift (blessed is He) is blessed that it should continue forever for anyone to whom He gives it - were it not that because of the first sin, the decree of death was imposed in the world. Just because a person's body is removed does not make it just that there should be a cessation of God's blessed gift. Rather, it should extend further, of itself, to the body that developed in continuity from him, this being his son or his daughter.
According to the Sefer ha'Chinuch, the laws of inheritance remind us that all of our possessions come from Hashem, in accordance with His justice and kindness. This is true not only for human beings, but for all of His creatures, as we say in the Birkas ha'Mazon (Blessing after Meals): 
Blessed are You, Hashem, our God, King of the universe, Who nourishes the entire world, in His goodness – with grace, with kindness, and with mercy. He gives nourishment to all flesh, for His kindness is eternal. And through His great goodness, we have never lacked, and may we never lack, nourishment, for all eternity. For the sake of His Great Name, because He nourishes and sustains all, and benefits all, and He prepares food for all of His creatures which He has created. Blessed are You, Hashem, Who nourishes all.
Since His bounty is blessed, and His blessings endure, there is no reason why this bounty should cease upon the death of the individual. Rather, Hashem ensures that this blessing be passed on to the recipient's offspring, in accordance with a system of order and justice. He does this by means of these laws of inheritance. Thus, when a person engages in the system of inheritance laws, he is reminded of the greater framework of Hashem's providence, and is given a valuable opportunity for gratitude and reflection. 

This is a perfect example of how even the mishpatim - the "intuitive" mitzvos - of the Torah contain deeper dimensions, which are not intuitive. Yes, it is true that other societies have laws which govern the allotment of inheritance, but how many societies have inheritance laws which are designed to induce contemplation of metaphysical truths? What other nation uses its laws of inheritance as a vehicle for self-improvement and meditation upon one's place in the grand scheme of creation?

To the contrary - the versions of these mishpatim in other societies exist purely to serve practical, material interests, without any greater purpose. The Torah's mishpatim, on the other hand, accomplish these objectives and more. They guide us and facilitate our ethical and intellectual development, providing us with an opportunity to transcend the realm of the mundane and connect to the Source of reality. 

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Koheles: On Romanticizing the Past

Artwork: Time Walk, by Chris Rahn


Koheles: On Romanticizing the Past

There's a certain category of Facebook posts that I encounter from time to time. Sometimes these posts contain reminiscences about the past. Sometimes they voice criticisms of new fads and trends. Almost all of them feature either an explicit or implicit critique of "kids these days," and almost all of them express their message in a curmudgeonly manner. Here are some examples:








Whenever I see or hear anything like this, I am reminded of a pasuk in Koheles:
אַל תֹּאמַר מֶה הָיָה שֶׁהַיָּמִים הָרִאשֹׁנִים הָיוּ טוֹבִים מֵאֵלֶּה, כִּי לֹא מֵחָכְמָה שָׁאַלְתָּ עַל זֶה:
"Do not say, 'How was it that former times were better than these?' - for you have not asked this out of wisdom" (Koheles 7:10).
The question is: What is the fallacy here? Why is it foolish to ask why the former times were better than these? 

Rav Avraham Farissol [1] offers the following answer:
It is human nature for those who are advanced in age, after they have grown old and have endured the vicissitudes of life, to make this error of degrading the present while lavishing praise and adoration on the past, [saying,] "I remember the olden days." [In truth,] it is possible that the past was worse than this
The reason [why these elderly people say this] is because the days of youth are perpetually sweet for all young people, whereas the days of old age are bitter.
Therefore, this chacham (i.e. Shlomo ha'Melech) warned you to avoid this [type of thinking] so that you don't become enfeebled or increase your worry as you grow old, thereby causing you to refrain from embracing that which you need to do. [2]  
He says, "for you have not asked this out of wisdom" because "if you have become wise, you have become wise for yourself" (Mishlei 9:12) to know that time is cyclical, going round and round, causing whatever happens to happen, and there is nothing which is [actually] new - only accidentally new, and new to him but not new to the earlier generations, "for that which was is that which will be" (Koheles 1:9)
According to my understanding, Rav Farissol's answer can be broken down into five points:
(1) The feeling that life was better in the olden days isn't necessarily true; some things might be better, but others might be worse.
(2) This rosy view of the past is not the result of a rigorous, objective investigation and evaluation of the quality of life in each time period; rather, it stems from a psychological tendency which is prevalent in those who are advanced in age.
(3) The cause of this psychological tendency is that the days of youth tend to be sweet, relative to the days of old age; this "sweetness" colors one's perception of the entire time period.
(4) Shlomo ha'Melech warned us about this because this type of thinking can become a stumbling block in old age, insofar as it prevents one from dealing with the present.
(5) Those who understand the way of the world recognize that there is nothing in human society which is actually new; human nature is essentially the same in every era, and the only differences are in the particulars.
To my mind, this last point is the most significant - at least, in the context of Koheles as a whole. If I had to sum up the theme of Koheles in a single sentence, it would be this: Koheles is about the futility of man's quest for yisron. The literal translation of "yisron" is "more" or "advantage" or "gain." Shlomo ha'Melech uses this as a place-holder term that refers to anything a person seeks which he believes will bring him ultimate happiness, remove his suffering, and make his life complete. When a person feels, "All I need is __________ and then I'll be happy!" or "If only I had _________ then all of my problems would be solved!" - that "blank" is yisron

Though it may be easy to see through the yisron fantasy in the abstract, the satan is in the details. The yisron fantasy takes on an infinite variety of forms - all of them seductive and insidious. That is why the vast majority of Koheles is devoted to "debunking" a wide variety of common yisron-fantasies. By walking us through many examples of different flavors of yisron, Shlomo ha'Melech hopes we will learn how to spot a yisron-fantasy before we become ensnared by it.

The yisron in our pasuk is especially sneaky, since it manifests itself as a longing for something in the past, rather than as a drive to obtain something in the future. Instead of feeling, "Once I get _________ then life will be great!" the old person feels, "If only I could go back to the way things were, then life would be great!"

It would seem that the key to undoing this particular yisron is to recognize the truth that Koheles states in his introduction:
Whatever has been is what will be, and whatever has been done is what will be done. There is nothing new under the sun. Sometimes there is something of which one says: "Look, this is new!" - this has already existed in the ages before us. As there is no recollection of the former ones, so too, of the latter ones that are yet to be, there will be no recollection among those of a still later time (Koheles 1:9-11).
Human nature is a constant, and is the source of almost all of our problems. [3] These problems might look different than the problems of past generations, but at their core, they are the same. The trick is to see past the particulars.

Thankfully, the Internet provides no shortage of humorous examples which illustrate this point, and which counteract the examples at the beginning of this post. Here's my favorite one:


One can imagine an elderly fellow attempting to defend the inherent virtue of painted portraits over selfie sticks, but the student of Koheles will see both phenomena as expressions of the same egocentric drive for self-glorification and immortality. The same goes for all other expressions of human nature.

The past, the present, and the future are filled with the same problems. There is nothing new under the sun.

[1] Rav Avraham Farissol, Commentary on Megilas Koheles 7:10
[2] The underlined portion reflects my best attempt at understanding the author's intent. I found his switching between 2nd and 3rd person to be rather confusing.
[3] See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Guide for the Perplexed 3:11-12 for an extensive treatment of this topic.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Chesed Hashem in the Messianic Era

Originally posted in December 2008, during my Rabbi Sacks period. Please pardon the somewhat jargon-heavy writing style.

Artwork: Rush of Knowledge, by Eric Peterson


Chesed Hashem in the Messianic Era

The shortest perek (chapter) in Sefer Tehilim (The Book of Psalms) is perek 117, which says:
Praise Hashem, all peoples; praise Him, all the nations! For His chesed (kindness) has overpowered us, and the truth of Hashem is eternal, Halleluyah! 
The phrase "His chesed has overpowered us" is peculiar. We don't typically describe chesed as something that "overpowers" the one who receives it. "Overpowered" implies resistance on the part of the recipient. Why should there be any resistance to Hashem's chesed?

To answer this question we must define the term "chesed" and understand what chesed our pasuk (verse) is referring to. The Rambam [1] explains that the term "chesed" literally means "excess," and is typically used to denote an excess of tov (good). According to the Radak [2] this chapter is about the Messianic Era. What chesed (excess) will Hashem bestow upon humanity in the Messianic era?

The Rambam answers this question in two places in the Mishneh Torah. The first is in the Laws of Repentance [3]:
In those days [of the Messianic Era] there will be an increase of knowledge, wisdom, and truth, as it is stated, "For the entire world will be filled with knowledge of Hashem" (Yeshayahu 11:9), and it is stated, "They will no longer teach - each man his fellow, each man his brother" (Yirmiyahu 31:33), and it is stated, "I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh" (Yechezkel 36:26), because that king who will arise from the offspring of David will be a master of wisdom, greater than Solomon, and a great prophet, close to Moses our teacher. Therefore, he will teach all of the nation and instruct them in the path of Hashem, and all of the nations will come to hear, as it is stated, "It will happen in the end of days: the mountain of the Temple of Hashem will be firmly established as the head of the mountains" (Yeshayahu 2:2).
The second source is in the Laws of Kings: 
The chachamim (wise men) and the prophets didn't desire the Messianic Era so they could rule over the entire world, or to dominate the nations, or to be exalted by the nations, or so that they could eat, drink, and rejoice - rather, [they only desired the Messianic Era] so that they could be free to occupy themselves with Torah and its wisdom, without any oppressor or nullifier, so that they can merit the World to Come. 
During that time there will not be any famine or war, jealousy or rivalry, for the tovah (good) will be abundantly bestowed, and all pleasurable things will be available like dust, and the sole occupation of the entire world will be to know Hashem. Therefore, the Jews will be exceedingly wise and will know hidden and deep ideas, and they will apprehend the knowledge of their Creator to the extent that is possible for humans, as it is stated, "For the world will be filled with knowledge of Hashem, like water covering the sea bed" (Yeshayahu 11:9). 
What tov will be bestowed in excess during the Messianic Era? The tov of knowledge of Hashem. This is the chesed which we will experience as "overpowering," as the pasuk states, "For His chesed has overpowered us, and the truth of Hashem is eternal, Halleluyah!" This "truth of Hashem" is the  chesed (i.e. excess of tov) that will be bestowed in the Messianic Era.

In order to understand why this excess of tov will be experienced as "overpowering," we must delve a little bit deeper into the idea of tov

Our lives are governed by the pursuit of two different types of tov. The first type is the tov of Bereishis, as it is stated, "God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. And God saw the light that it was tov" (Bereishis 1:3-4), and "God saw all that He had made and behold - it was exceedingly tov" (ibid. 1:31). This is the tov of God's wisdom as expressed in His universe - the tov of lawful existence. Our tov, as human beings, is the contemplation of this wisdom, which we experience as the ultimate pleasure of ahavas Hashem (love of God) and the ultimate humility of yiras Hashem (awe of God).

But there is another tov: the tov of the nachash (snake), as it is stated, "The nachash said to the woman, ‘You will surely not die, for God knows that on the day you eat of [the fruit of the tree] your eyes will be opened and you shall be like gods, knowers of tov and ra.’" (ibid. 1:4-5). The tov of the nachash is the tov of the god-fantasy: the self-centered, deep-seated belief that the universe revolves around "the Great, Mighty, and Awesome Me." The tov of the nachash is the source of the drive for pleasure and the drive for success, as it is stated, "And the woman saw that [the fruit of] the tree was tov for eating: tempting to the eyes and desirable as a means to success" (ibid. 1:6).

Why will we experience the excess tov of Bereishis in the Messianic Era as "overpowering"? Because the tov of Bereishis is a threat to the tov of the nachash. To recognize the Sovereignty of the Creator in the universe is to forfeit one's own claim of divine sovereignty. To acknowledge the reality of the Supreme Being is to admit that one's own feelings of supremacy and greatness are rooted in fantasy and falsehood. To behold the lawfulness governing the entire universe is to confront the terrifying fact that one's own life is governed by that same lawfulness. The mind's encounter with the objective reality of lawfulness forces one to confront the harsh truth that reality doesn't conform to me, but I must conform to reality.

Contemplation of the wisdom in God's universe leaves no room for feelings of greatness, as the Rambam [5] writes in his explanation of yiras Hashem:
What is the way of loving Him (ahavah) and being in awe of Him (yirah)? When a person ponders His great and wondrous works and creations he immediately loves, praises, and extols and is filled with a great desire to know the Supreme Being, as David said, “My soul thirsts for the living God” (Tehilim 42:3). And when he contemplates these things he immediately is drawn back with great reverence and he realizes that he is a small, insignificant, unenlightened creature standing with a frail intellect in the presence of a Being Who is Perfect in Knowledge, as David said, “[When I behold Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and stars that you have set in place, I exclaim,] ‘What is frail man that You should notice him, [and the son of mortal man that You should be mindful of him?']” (ibid. 8:4-5). 
This experience of yiras Hashem - the realization of one's small existence in the reality of God's lawful universe - is utterly despicable to our inner-nachash, as it is stated, "Yiras Hashem is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline" (Proverbs 1:7). It is for this reason that influx of excess Bereishis-tov at the advent of the Messianic Era will be met with tremendous resistance and will be experienced as "overpowering" by all but the greatest chachamim.

But this struggle against reality will only be temporary, as the prophet states, "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. I will put My spirit within you, and I will make it so that you will follow My decrees and guard My ordinances and fulfill them" (Ezekiel 36:26). What is this "spirit of Hashem"? "The spirit of Hashem will rest upon him - a spirit of wisdom and understanding, a spirit of counsel and strength, a spirit of knowledge and yiras Hashem" (Yeshayahu 11:2). Hashem will assist His servants by releasing us from the shackles of the tov of the nachash and guiding us in the light of the tov of Bereishis.

The Rambam writes that ideally, we should all yearn for the coming of the Moshiach. This perek of Tehilim reminds us that we must begin by acknowledging the part of us which does not yearn for the coming of Moshiach. So long as we are unwilling to face that part of ourselves, we cannot truly yearn for the redemption. 

[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Guide for the Perplexed 3:53
[2] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Tehilim 117
[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah 9:2
[4] ibid. Sefer Shoftim, Hilchos Melachim 12:4-5
[5] ibid. Sefer ha'Mada: Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah 2:2

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

A Benefit of Multiple Mentors


Artwork: Mentor of the Meek, by Jana Schirmer and Johannes Voss


A Benefit of Multiple Mentors

The Gemara (Avodah Zarah 19a) says: 
Rav Chisda said to his rabbinic students: "I would like to tell you something, but I'm afraid you will leave me and go elsewhere: A person who learns Torah from [only] one rav will never see a sign of blessing."
They left him and went [to sit and learn] before Rava, who said to them: "[Rav Chisda's statement] applies only to sevara (i.e. conceptual analysis), but with gemara (i.e. mastery of the facts passed down by oral tradition) it is preferable to learn from one rav, so that the [versions of the] text will not be inconsistent. 
I'm sure there are a number of explanation for why it is better to learn sevara with multiple teachers and why it is better to learn gemara with only one teacher. I wouldn't be surprised if there are also disagreements on what constitutes sevara vs. gemara.

But I will not be taking up any of those questions in this post. I am merely using this Gemara as a springboard to discuss one benefit of having multiple mentors in one's overall Torah development. That benefit may be summed up as follows: being told conflicting opinions by multiple authority figures forces the student to not make a decision based on authority

I'd like to illustrate and explain this through three examples. 

Example #1: Universals vs. Particulars

Throughout my learning in yeshiva my Gemara rebbi would always urge us during shiur, saying: "Think conceptually!" He would point out that we Brisker neophytes were prone to getting caught up in the particulars and losing sight of the underlying universals of the sugya. This easier-said-than-done advice became my mantra throughout my time in yeshiva.

Fast-forward seven years to last week Tuesday, when I got a call from my Mishlei rebbi. He mentioned to me that he's noticed a trend in my learning over the summer. He told me that I'm too quick to jump to the universals. He noted that even when my intuition is correct, and I succeed in defining the abstract universal, I tend to miss out on the benefits to be gained from pondering the particulars, which is especially important in Mishlei. 

When he said this, I laughed - not because I disagreed with his advice, but because it was the exact opposite of the advice my Gemara rebbi had given me!

And the thing is, both of them are correct. My Gemara rebbi is correct that the objective of learning is to understand the universals, and my Mishlei rebbi is correct that by jumping too quickly to the universals, I am missing out on the benefits of the particulars.

Had I only been told one piece of advice, it would have been very easy for my psyche to transform it into An Authoritative Rule, and I would have been tempted to slavishly follow it. But now my psyche is caught between two forces attempting to pull me in opposite directions.

Example #2: Starting with the Easiest vs. Starting with the Hardest

One of the most common inductive maneuvers in the Brisker derech is "defining a machlokess (disagreement)." For example, if there is a machlokess between Rashi and Tosafos on a particular halacha, our job is to precisely define the conceptual issue at the core of their disagreement, and to grasp the abstract definitions which resulted in each view.

My first Gemara rebbi in yeshiva - let's call him Rabbi RM - advised us to begin by defining the easiest side first. By "easiest" he was referring to the side that made the most sense to us. His reasoning was that it is easier to proceed from the known to the unknown. If you start with the easiest side, you can develop it and clarify it until you can define it precisely. This will create a foothold which one can then use to approach the more non-intuitive side.

This advice served me well until another Gemara rebbi - let's call him Rabbi SZ - advised us to begin with the most difficult side. His reasoning was that the easier side only seems easy because it is more in line with our preconceived notions. Beginning with the easier side is detrimental because it strengthens these preconceived notions, making it even more difficult to see things from a different perspective. Beginning with the more difficult side forces one to think outside of the box right from the get-go, thereby increasing the odds of discovering the underlying universal.

At this point in my development I felt beholden to learning the derech by sticking closely to the guidance of my rabbeim. The fact that two of my authority figures gave me opposite advice put me into a state of conflict.

I attempted to resolve this conflict as any authority-driven yeshiva bochur would do: by asking the Rosh ha'Yeshiva. Thankfully, he gave me the best answer I could have possibly received. After telling him the advice of my two other rabbis, my Rosh Yeshiva said, "I disagree with both of them! When it comes to thinking, forget the rules and just follow your intuition. The freer your mind, the better."

Ironically, my Rosh Yeshiva's advice was impervious to slavish obedience! His authoritative rule was to ignore authoritative rules!

Example #3: Learning from Multiple Mentors = Good vs. Bad

If you agree with what has been said up until now, then have I got a surprise for you. There is another statement of Chazal in Avos d'Rebbi Nosson 8:2 which says exactly the opposite:
Rebbi Meir would say: One who learns Torah from a single rav - what may he be compared? To someone who has a single field; he plants wheat in one part, barley in another part, olives in another, and trees in another. As a result, he will be filled with goodness and blessing. But when he learns from two or there [rabbeim], he may be compared to someone who has many fields; he plants wheat in one, barley in another, olives in another, and trees in another. As a result, he will be spread out among all the different [plots of] land, without good or blessing.
It is possible that these two sources reflect two different opinions. It is also possible that these two sources can be interpreted in a harmonious manner (e.g. by saying that Avos d'Rebbi Nosson is also talking about gemara, and not sevara - as Rav Chisda said in our Gemara).

But for our purposes, the result is still the same: we students are here at a crossroads, being given opposite advice by two different authorities. In order to move forward, we will have to work out how to proceed on our own, without blindly following one authority over the other.

That, in my opinion and my experience, is a significant benefit of having multiple mentors in one's Torah development.

Monday, July 25, 2016

17th of Tammuz: The Breaking of the Tablets (Unfinished)

Here's the story. For better or for worse, I decided to begin writing this during the fast. Not only that, but I relied on the assumption that I'd figure it out as I went along (since I didn't get a chance to think it through on Shabbos, as I had originally planned). Unfortunately, I got a little light-headed late in the afternoon, and then my mind just stopped working around three hours before the fast ended. As I write this now, at 9:30pm, the fast still has around 30 minutes to go. Rather than eating and then frantically rushing to finish the post, I'd rather just leave it unfinished. I hope some of you will be able to work out the rest of the post. Who knows? Maybe I'll even be able to finish it later on in the Three Weeks!



17th of Tammuz: The Breaking of the Tablets

Introduction

The Rambam [1] begins his discussion of the national fast days by stating their common objective:
There are days on which all of Israel fasts because of the catastrophes that occurred on them, in order to awaken the hearts [of the people] and to open the paths of teshuvah (repentance). This will be a remembrance of our corrupt actions and the corrupt actions of our fathers that were like our actions today, which ultimately reached the point that [these corrupt actions] caused these catastrophes for them and for us. Through the remembrance of these things we will return to do good, as it stated, “they will confess their sins and the sins of their fathers” (Vayikra 26:40).
In other words, the primary purpose of these national fasts is to reflect on the national avonos (iniquities) which brought about these tragedies, and which are still present in the Jewish people today. By understanding these defects - their symptoms, their causes, and their consequences - we will be moved to do whatever we can to correct them, thereby preventing similar tragedies from happening in the future.

Today we are observing the taanis (fast) of the 17th of Tammuz to remember the five events that happened on this day [2]:
  1. the breaking of the  Luchos (i.e. the stone tablets that Moshe Rabbeinu received at Sinai) 
  2. the cessation of the tamid (i.e. the daily sacrifice) in the first Mikdash (Temple) 
  3. the breaching of the city of Jerusalem prior to the destruction of the second Mikdash
  4. the burning of a Torah scroll by Apostomos (a Greek official) during the second Mikdash era
  5. the setting up of an idol in the Mikdash 
In this post we will examine the first of these events - the breaking of the Luchos - with the goal of gaining some insight into the avonos which led to it.

Facts and Questions

Moshe Rabbeinu had spent 40 days and 40 nights on Sinai receiving the Torah. On the last day the nation panicked, believing that Moshe would not return. This lead to a severe relapse into the darchei avodah zarah (the idolatrous ways of thinking), culminating in the forging and worship of the Eigel ha'Zahav (Golden Calf).

Hashem told Moshe what happened and stated His intent to destroy the entire nation. Moshe pleaded with Him, and He relented. Moshe descended from Sinai with the two Divinely-crafted Tablets in his hand. And that's when it all went down: 
It happened as he drew near the camp and saw the calf and the dances that Moshe's anger flared up. He threw down the Tablets from his hands and shattered them at the foot of the mountain. He took the calf that they had made and burned it in fire. He ground it to a fine powder and sprinkled it over the water. He made the Children of Israel drink (Shemos 32:19-20).
There are two major questions for us here: (1) Why did Moshe break the Luchos? (2) What insight(s) can we gain that might help us in our national teshuvah

I'm sure there are many interesting answers to these questions. This year, I found myself focusing on trying to understand the approaches of only two meforshim.

Rashi vs. Sforno

Rashi [3], citing the Gemara [4], explains that Moshe made a kal va'chomer argument from the Torah's prohibition against allowing an idolatrous apostate to partake of the Pesach-sacrifice:
[Moshe] said to himself: "If regarding the Pesach-sacrifice, which is a single mitzvah, the Torah says, 'no stranger (i.e. idolater) may partake of it' (ibid. 12:43), now that the entire Torah is here, and all of Israel are apostates, how can I give it to them?
Sforno takes a different approach, based on the words, "and he saw the calf and the dances, and Moshe's anger flared up." Sforno explains:
When [Moshe] saw that they rejoiced in their disgrace - similar to, "When you do evil then you rejoice" (Yirmiyahu 11:15) - this angered him and he despaired that he would be able to repair the crooked in a manner that they would return to their [former] perfection and be worthy [to receive] those tablets.
There appears to be a machlokess (disagreement) here between Rashi and the Sforno. According to Rashi, Moshe's breaking of the tablets had nothing to do with his assessment of Bnei Yisrael's ability or inability to do teshuvah. It would appear from Rashi that even if Bnei Yisrael were capable of doing teshuvah, their avodah zarah (idolatry) would have precluded them from receiving the Torah. 

In contrast, the Sforno focuses exclusively on how irreparably far Bnei Yisrael had gone in their sinfulness. He implies that if Bnei Yisrael had been capable of returning to their former state of perfection, then they might be worthy of receiving the tablets, but when Moshe saw that they "rejoiced in their disgrace," he knew that their waywardness was beyond rehabilitation.

I can't say I have succeeded in grasping the root of this machlokess, but I will do my best to expound a bit on each side.


Analysis of Rashi

Interesting is Rashi's emphasis on quantity: "if an apostate is excluded from the Pesach sacrifice, which is a single mitzvah, then certainly Bnei Yisrael should be excluded from the entire Torah." Obviously, one can't take this type of reasoning too literally without running into absurdities. The Baalei Tosfos on the Gemara [7] point out that this wasn't an actual kal va'chomer. Still, we need to understand what Rashi is getting at.

The key to Rashi's explanation lies in understanding the relationship between avodah zarah and the Torah system as a whole. According to Chazal [6], the entire purpose of Torah is to uproot avodah zarah. The Rambam [8] codifies this principle in the Mishneh Torah: 
The mitzvah [prohibition] against avodah zarah is equal to all of the mitzvos in their entirety, as it is stated, “And if you shall err and not do all of My mitzvos” (Bamidbar 15:2) – from the Oral Transmission we learn that the verse refers to avodah zarah. Hence, you have learned [from here] that anyone who affirms avodah zarah has denied the whole Torah in its entirety, and all of the prophets, and everything which has been commanded by the prophets from Adam to the end of the world, as it is stated, “From the day that Hashem has commanded you and onward, for your generations” (ibid.). And anyone who denies idolatry has affirmed the whole Torah in its entirety. The prohibition of avodah zarah is the root of all of the mitzvos in their entirety.

A Jew who worships avodah zarah is equal to a gentile in all matters, and is not treated [merely] as a Jew who violated a transgression punishable by stoning. [Likewise,] an apostate to avodah zarah is considered an apostate to the entire Torah.
An analogy might help to understand Rashi's approach. The purpose of the Environmental Protection Agency is "to protect human health and the environment." Let us say that the EPA was caught dumping chemical waste into a reservoir. Even if this action only violated a single law, that single violation reflects a complete undermining of the entire EPA's enterprise, and would philosophically be tantamount to violating every environmental ordinance. 

The same is true in the case of avodah zarah. To violate any mitzvah is bad, but to violate a mitzvah of avodah zarah is tantamount to going against the entire Torah. It doesn't matter whether that violation is the actual worship of avodah zarah, or allowing an apostate to partake of the Pesach sacrifice (whose entire identity is "the anti-avodah zarah sacrifice"), or worshipping the Golden Calf. All of these actions represent a fundamental subversion of the Torah's mission. 

We will revisit Rashi at the end of the post to complete our analysis. Now let's switch to Sforno.

Analysis of Sforno

[unwritten]

Concluding Thoughts

Judging by their difference in interpretation, it would seem that Rashi and Sforno would have different takes on what tragedy we are supposed to be contemplating on the 17th of Tammuz.

According to Rashi, the tragedy of the 17th of Tammuz is how 

[unwritten]

[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zmanim, Hilchos Taaniyos 5:1
[2] Talmud Bavli, Maseches Taanis, Chapter 4 Mishnah 6 (daf 26a)
[3] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 32:19
[4] Shabbos 87a. For the sake of ease, we will refer to this as "Rashi's interpretation" even though he got it from Chazal.
[5] Rabbeinu Ovadiah Sforno, Commentary on Sefer Shemos 32:19
[6] See Horiyos 8a; Sifrei Devarim 54
[7] Baalei Tosafos, Shabbos 87a d"h u'ma Pesach
[8] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 2:4-5

Friday, July 22, 2016

Parashas Balak: Divine Regret

Unfortunately, I found myself uninspired to look into the parashah in time to write a dvar Torah for this week. But since I felt I needed to write something, I decided to just share an Ibn Ezra on a pasuk in Parashas Bereishis which sheds light on a pasuk in Parashas Balak. It might be a Tier #2 dvar Torah which is only kinda on the parashah, but who knows? Maybe someone will gain something from it. 



Parashas Balak: Divine Regret

Balak, the king of Moav, hired Bilam the prophet to curse the Jews. Time and time again, the king was let down when the prophet blessed the Israelite nation instead of cursing them, explaining that he can't go against God's will. Balak's persisted in his demands, hoping that Hashem would change His mind and allow Bilam to curse the foreign nation. In response to this hope Bilam says:
"God is not a man that He should be deceitful, nor is He a human being that He should regret" (Bamidbar 23:19)
Seems straightforward enough: God doesn't regret, and will not change His mind about allowing the Jews to be cursed. However, at the end of Parashas Bereishis, prior to the decree of the Flood, the Torah says the opposite: 
Hashem saw that the wickedness of man was great upon the earth, and that every product of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all of the time. And Hashem regretted having made man upon the earth, and His heart was saddened. And Hashem said, "I will blot out Man whom I created from the face of the ground - from man to animal, to creeping things, and to birds of the sky; for I have regretted having made them (Bereishis 6:5-7).
So which is it: Does Hashem regret or not? Furthermore, what does it mean when it says that "His heart was saddened"?

To a student of the yesodei ha'Torah (fundamentals of Torah), the answer is obvious: no, Hashem does not regret, nor be sad. First of all, Hashem does not - and cannot - change. Secondly, Hashem has no emotions, since Hashem is not physical. Thirdly, Hashem cannot make any mistakes which would warrant regret. 

This changes our question: Since Hashem doesn't regret, what does the pasuk mean when it describes Him has regretting having created man?

The Ibn Ezra [1] answers:
It is obvious that He is not a man such that He regrets. Rather, the Torah speaks in human language, and one who destroys what he has made appears as though he regretted [making it]. The meaning of "His heart was saddened" is the opposite of "may Hashem rejoice in His creations" (Tehilim 104:31), for it is good in His eyes that His creations receive His kindnesses.
On the pasuk from Tehilim cited by the Ibn Ezra, the Radak [2] echoes his comments:
Happiness and sadness with reference to Hashem are [to be understood] allegorically, for He has neither happiness nor sadness, and He doesn't change from one mode to another. Rather, just as a person is happy when his actions succeed and is sad when the opposite happens, the same is allegorically said of God (blessed is He), so that the listeners may understand. 
Both Rishonim agree that "regret," "happiness," "sadness" are to be understood as anthropomorphic characterizations of Hashem's actions - not as literal statements about Hashem, Himself. The same goes for all other statements which seem to imply that Hashem has emotions.

Although this approach is expressed unanimously and ubiquitously throughout the writings of the Rishonim, it is too often neglected in Jewish day school education. I have lost count of the number of students I've taught who are shocked to be informed that Hashem has no emotions. The only way I know to remedy this deficiency in their education is to seize every opportunity to explain anthropomorphic passages such as these, and to show them that this entire approach is firmly rooted in the teachings of the baalei Mesorah

[1] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 23:19
[2] Rabbeinu David Kimchi, Commentary on Sefer Tehilim 104:31

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Bruce Lee: Organized Despair

Originally posted in May, 2012. 

The following is a lengthy excerpt from Tao of Jeet Kune Do, by Bruce Lee. I am posting this now because, as the end of the school year draws close, I've been reflecting on my teaching practices. I view Bruce Lee as one of my mentors, and I owe much of my success as a teacher to his ideas. Although Bruce Lee wrote what he wrote about martial arts, every single statement in this excerpt also applies to the art of teaching - and, I think, to the art of learning. 

I have chosen to include the entire chapter, even though I don't necessarily understand or agree with every statement therein. I chose to do this because I have found that every time I read Bruce Lee's writings, different statements jump out at me, and my understanding of what he says changes. I'd rather include more than less. Read with an open mind, and take Bruce Lee's advice: "Absorb what is useful, reject what is useless, add what is specifically your own."

Bear in mind that these were written as sequential statements - not as a flowing essay. It helps to pause briefly after every statement, to let it sink in. The italics are his.



Organized Despair

In the long history of martial arts, the instinct to follow and imitate seems to be inherent in most martial artists, instructors and students alike. This is partly due to human tendency and partly because of the steep traditions behind multiple patterns of styles. Consequently, to find a refreshing, original, master teacher is a rarity. The need for a “pointer of the way” echoes.

Each man belongs to a style which claims to possess truth to the exclusion of all other styles. These styles become institutes with their explanations of the “Way,” dissecting and isolating the harmony of firmness and gentleness, establishing rhythmic forms as the particular state of their techniques.

Instead of facing combat in its suchness, then, most systems of martial art accumulate a “fancy mess” that distorts and cramps their practitioners and distracts them from the actual reality of combat, which is simple and direct. Instead of going immediately to the heart of things, flowery forms (organized despair) and artificial techniques are ritualistically practiced to simulate actual combat. Thus, instead of “being” in combat these practitioners are “doing” something “about” combat.

Worse still, super mental power and spiritual this and spiritual that are desperately incorporated until these practitioners drift further and further into mystery and abstraction. All such things are futile attempts to arrest and fix the ever-changing movements in combat and to dissect and analyze them like a corpse.

When you get down to it, real combat is not fixed and is very much “alive.” The fancy mess (a form of paralysis) solidifies and conditions what was once fluid, and when you look at it realistically, it is nothing but a blind devotion to the systematic uselessness of practicing routines or stunts that lead nowhere.

When real feeling occurs, such as anger or fear, can the stylist express himself with the classical method, or is he merely listening to his own screams and yells? Is he a living, expressive human being or merely a patternized mechanical robot? Is he an entity capable of flowing with external circumstances, or is he resisting with his set of chosen patterns? Is his chosen pattern forming a screen between him and the opponent and preventing a “total” and “fresh” relationship?

Stylists, instead of looking directly into the fact, cling to forms (theories) and go on entangling themselves further and further, finally putting themselves into an inextricable snare.

They do not see it in its suchness because their indoctrination is crooked and twisted. Discipline must conform to the nature of things in their suchness.

Maturity does not mean to become a captive of conceptualization. It is the realization of what lies in our innermost selves.

When there is freedom from mechanical conditioning, there is simplicity. Life is a relationship to the whole.

The man who is clear and simple does not choose. What is, is. Action based on an idea is obviously the action of choice and such action is not liberating. On the contrary, it creates further resistance, further conflict. Assume pliable awareness.

Relationship is understanding. It is a process of self-revelation. Relationship is the mirror in which you discover yourself – to be is to be related.

Set patterns, incapable of adaptability, of pliability, only offer a better cage. Truth is outside of all parameters.

Forms are vain repetitions which offer an orderly and beautiful escape from self-knowledge with an alive opponent.

Accumulation is self-enclosing resistance and flowery techniques strengthen the resistance.

The classical man is just a bundle of routine, ideas, and tradition. When he acts, he is translating every living moment in terms of the old.

Knowledge is fixed in time, whereas knowing is continual. Knowledge comes from a source, from an accumulation, from a conclusion, while knowing is a movement.

The additive process is merely a cultivation of memory which becomes mechanical. Learning is never cumulative; it is a movement of knowing which has no beginning and no end.

In martial arts cultivation, there must be a sense of freedom. A conditioned mind is never a free mind. Conditioning limits a person within the framework of a particular system.

To express yourself in freedom, you must die to everything of yesterday. From the “old”, you derive security; from the “new”, you gain the flow.

To realize freedom, the mind has to learn to look at life, which is a vast movement without the bondage of time, for freedom lies beyond the field of consciousness. Watch, but don’t stop and interpret, “I am free” – then you’re living in a memory of something that has gone. To understand and live now, everything of yesterday must die.

Freedom from knowing is death; then, you are living. Die inwardly of “pro” and “con.” There is no such thing as doing right or wrong when there is freedom.

When one is not expressing himself, he is not free. Thus, he begins to struggle and the struggle breeds methodical routine. Soon, he is doing his methodical routine as response rather than responding to what is.

The fighter is to always be single-minded with one object in view – to fight, looking neither backward nor sideways. He must get rid of obstructions to his forward movement, emotionally, physically, or intellectually.

One can function freely and totally if he is “beyond system.” The man who is really serious, with the urge to find out what truth is, has no style at all. He lives only in what is.

If you want to understand the truth in martial arts, to see any opponent clearly, you must throw away the notion of styles or schools, prejudices, likes and dislikes, and so forth. Then, your mind will cease all conflict and come to rest. In this silence, you will see totally and freshly.

If any style teaches you a method of fighting, then you might be able to fight according to the limit of that method, but that is not actually fighting.

If you meet the unconventional attack, such as one delivered with broken rhythm, with your chosen patterns of rhythmical classical blocks, your defense and counterattack will always be lacking pliability and aliveness.

If you follow the classical pattern, you are understanding the routine, the tradition, the shadow – you are not understanding yourself.

How can one respond to the totality with partial, fragmentary pattern?

Mere repetition of rhythmic, calculated movements robs combat movement of its “aliveness” and “isness” – its reality.

Accumulation of forms, just one more modification of conditioning, becomes an anchor that holds and ties down; it leads only one way – down.

Form is the cultivation of resistance; it is the exclusive drilling of a pattern of choice moves. Instead of creating resistance, enter straight into the movement as it arises; do not condemn or condone – choiceless awareness leads to reconciliation with the opponent in a total understanding of what is.

Once conditioned in a partialized method, once isolated in an enclosing pattern, the practitioner faces his opponent through a screen of resistance – he is “performing” his stylized blocks and listening to his own screaming and not seeing what the opponent is really doing.

We are those kata, we are those classical blocks and thrusts, so heavily conditioned are we by them.

To fit in with an opponent one needs direct perception. There is no direct perception where there is a resistance, a “this is the only way” attitude.

Having totality means being capable of following “what is,” because “what is” is constantly moving and constantly changing. If one is anchored to a particular view, one will not be able to follow the swift movement of “what is.”

Whatever one’s opinion of hooking and swinging as part of one’s style, there cannot be the least argument to acquiring perfect defenses against it. Indeed, nearly all natural fighters use it. As for the martial artist, it adds versatility to his attack. He must be able to hit from wherever his hand is.

But in classical styles, system becomes more important than the man! The classical man functions with the pattern of a style!

How can there be methods and systems to arrive at something that is living? To that which is static, fixed, dead, there can be a way, a definite path, but not to that which is living. Do not reduce reality to a static thing and then invent methods to reach it.

Truth is relationship with the opponent; constantly moving, living, never static.

Truth has no path. Truth is living and, therefore, changing. It has no resting place, no form, no organized institution, no philosophy. When you see that, you will understand that this living thing is also what you are. You cannot express and be alive through static, put-together form, through stylized movement.

Classical forms dully your creativity, condition and freeze your sense of freedom. You no longer “be,” but merely “do,” without sensitivity.

Just as yellow leaves may be gold coins to stop the crying children, thus, the so-called secret moves and contorted postures appease the unknowledgeable martial artists.

This does not mean to do nothing at all, but only to have no deliberate mind in whatever one does. Do not have a mind that selects or rejects. To be without deliberate mind is to hang no thoughts.

Acceptance, denial and conviction prevent understanding. Let your mind move together with another’s in understanding with sensitivity. Then, there is a possibility of real communication. To understand one another, there must be a state of choiceless awareness where there is no sense of comparison or condemnation, no waiting for a further development of discussion in order to agree or disagree. Above all, don’t start from a conclusion.

Understand the freedom from the conformity of styles. Free yourself by observing closely what you normally practice. Do not condemn or approve; merely observe.

When you are uninfluenced, when you die to the conditioning of classical responses, then you will know awareness and see things totally fresh, totally new.

Awareness is without choice, without demand, without anxiety; in that state of mind, there is perception. Perception alone will resolve all our problems.

Understanding requires not just a moment of perception, but a continuous awareness, a continuous state of inquiry without conclusion.

To understand combat, one must approach it in a very simple and direct response.

Understanding comes about through feeling, from moment to moment in the mirror of relationship.

Understanding oneself happens through a process of relationship and not through isolation.

To know oneself is to study oneself in action with another person.

To understand the actual requires awareness, an alert and totally free mind.

Effort within the mind further limits the mind, because effort implies struggle towards a goal and when you have a goal, a purpose, an end in view, you have placed a limit on the mind.

This evening I see something totally new and that newness is experienced by the mind, but tomorrow that experience becomes mechanical if I try to repeat the sensation, the pleasure of it. The description is never real. What is real is seeing the truth instantaneously, because truth has no tomorrow.

We shall find the truth when we examine the problem. The problem is never apart from the answer. The problem is the answer – understanding the problem dissolves the problem.

Observe what is with undivided awareness.

True thusness is without defiling thought; it cannot be known through conception and thought.

Thinking is not freedom – all thought is partial; it can never be total. Thought is the response of memory and memory is always partial, because memory is the result of experience. So, thought is the reaction of a mind conditioned by experienced.

Know the emptiness and tranquility of your mind. Be empty; have no style or form for the opponent to work on.

The mind is originally without activity; the way is always without thought.

Insight is realizing that one’s original nature is not created.

There will be calmness, tranquility, when one is free from external objects and is not perturbed. Being tranquil means not having any illusions or delusions of thusness.

There is no thought, only thusness – what is. Thusness does not move, but its motion and function are inexhaustible.

To meditate means to realize the imperturbability of one’s original nature. Surely, meditation can never be a process of concentration, because the highest form of thinking is negation. Negation is a state in which there is neither the positive, nor its reaction as the negative. It is a state of complete emptiness.

Concentration is a form of exclusion and where there is exclusion, there is a thinker who excludes. It is the thinker, the excluder, the one who concentrates, who creates contradiction because he forms a center from which there is distraction.

There is a state of action without the actor, a state of experiencing without the experience or the experience. It is a state bound and weighted down by the classical mess.

Classical concentration that focuses on one thing and excludes all others, and awareness, which is total and excludes nothing, are states of the mind that can be understood only by objective, non-prejudiced observation.

Awareness has no frontier; it is a giving of your whole being, without exclusion.

Concentration is a narrowing down of the mind. But we are concerned with the process of living and to concentrate exclusively on any particular aspect of life, belittles life.

The “moment” has not yesterday or tomorrow. It is not the result of thought and, therefore, has not time.

When, in a split second, your life is threatened, do you say, “Let me make sure my hand is on my hip, and my style is ‘the’ style”? When your life is in danger, do you argue about the method you will adhere to while saving yourself? Why the duality?

A so-called martial artist is the result of three thousand years of propaganda and conditioning.

Why do individuals depend on thousands of years of propaganda? They may preach “softness” as the ideal to “firmness,” but when “what is” hits, what happens? Ideals, principles, the “what should be” leads to hypocrisy.

Because one does not want to be disturbed, to be made uncertain, he establishes a pattern of conduct, of thought, a pattern of relationships to man. He then becomes a slave to the pattern and takes the pattern to be the real thing.

Agreeing to certain patterns of movement to secure the participants within the governed rules might be good for sports like boxing or basketball, but the success of Jeet Kune Do lies in its freedom, both to use technique and to dispense with it.

The second-hand artist blindly following his sensei or sifu accepts his pattern. As a result, his action, and more importantly, his thinking become mechanical. His response becomes automatic, according to set patterns, making him narrow and limited.

Self-expression is total, immediate, without conception of time, and you can only express that if you are free, physically and mentally, from fragmentation.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

"and fools despise Pokemon GO" (Proverbs 151:7)

Part of me feels that this fundamental idea deserves its own blog post ... but this real-world example was just too good to pass up. 



"and fools despise Pokemon GO" (Proverbs 151:7)

According to an article in the NY Post, NYPD Commissioner Bill Bratton thinks that the recent Pokémon Go trend "is one of the stupidest ones I've seen." 
The top cop went on a rant about the dangers of the scavenger hunt-style game, which uses a cellphone’s camera and GPS functions to virtually populate real-world locations with cartoon creatures. The app, Bratton said, has turned millennials into “walking zombies” as they follow the game’s directive to “catch ’em all.”
"Okay," I thought to myself, "I can understand where this officer is coming from. He believes that Pokémon Go poses a threat to public safety because of how distracted people are when they play. That seems reasonable enough."

But then the article went on to quote the Commissioner as saying one of the most idiotic things that he could have possibly said:
I don’t understand it, and I don’t intend to understand it,” he said. “It’s of no appeal to me, and at the same time, people are putting themselves at great risk.”
I laughed out loud in disbelief when I read this statement. Really? REALLY?! I get it that he has no personal interest in playing the game, but as someone who is trying to solve a problem, does he really think that refusing to understand the appeal of the game will help him achieve his goal? 

Sun Tzu, the legendary Chinese general, taught: 

If you know the enemy and know yourself, 
you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. 

If you know yourself but not the enemy
for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. 

If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, 
you will succumb in every battle.

It just boggles my mind. What kind of problem-solver refuses to understand the problem he is trying to solve? What would happen if the police had this mentality about other societal ills, such as drug addiction, gang violence, and sex trafficking? Would this Commissioner display the same attitude towards the recent "craze" of texting and driving, or identity theft, or other new phenomena? If this rash of cop-killing continues, would he say, "I don't understand it, and I don't intend to understand it"? 

Officer Bratton's obstinate stance reminded me of two statements in Sefer Mishlei (The Book of Proverbs): 

יִרְאַת ה' רֵאשִׁית דָּעַת חָכְמָה וּמוּסָר אֱוִילִים בָּזוּ:
"Fear of Hashem is the beginning of knowledge, but eveelim (fools) deride wisdom and discipline" (Mishlei 1:7)
עַד מָתַי פְּתָיִם תְּאֵהֲבוּ פֶתִי וְלֵצִים לָצוֹן חָמְדוּ לָהֶם וּכְסִילִים יִשְׂנְאוּ דָעַת:
"How long, O simpletons, will you love folly, and scoffers covet mockery for themselves, and ksilim (fools) hate knowledge?" (ibid. 1:22)
Shlomo ha'Melech (King Solomon) identifies two types of fools in these verses: eveelim and ksilim. He says that the eveelim deride wisdom and discipline, whereas the ksilim hate knowledge. The questions are: (1) What is the difference between these two foolish attitudes? (2) Which type of foolishness is reflected in Officer Bratton's statement?

I brought this question up to my Mishlei rebbi this morning, and he answered me based on his current understanding of these two types of fools. I will do my best to summarize his answer, but I won't speculate about how he arrived at this answer (since he was responding on the basis of his Mishleic intuition that has been formed by years of learning hundreds of pesukim). 

He explained that the eveel is someone who looks at reality superficially. He assumes that his first impressions are correct, and that there is no need to look beneath the surface, or at the big picture, or at the long-term consequences. He acts on impulse, seeking immediate pleasure and the avoidance of immediate pain. 

Although the eveel is foolish, he is not stupid. He has enough life experience to realize that there is more depth to reality than he is willing to see. And yet, he can't bring himself to face that reality - whether out of laziness, or fear, or attachment to his present way of thinking, or what have you. Whatever the reason may be, he does not want to face reality because of the implications of doing so. But in order to justify his avoidance of reality, he must mock and disparage those who involve themselves is seeking knowledge of reality - otherwise, they would be too consumed with self-loathing on account of the anti-reality lifestyle he has chosen. 

The ksil has a different problem. He relates to reality as an authority figure who is trying to control him, and he relates to knowledge like the words of a stern parent disciplining a child. [1] This is the root of his hatred of knowledge. Every gain in knowledge poses a threat to his ego. In order to preserve his sense of self, he must utterly reject the pursuit of knowledge with vehemence. 

Based on this distinction, my Mishlei rebbi maintained that Officer Bratton's attitude corresponded to that of the eveel. For whatever reason, he just doesn't want to face the reality of the Pokémon Go trend. Not only does he refuse to understand it, but he even goes so far as to mock it, as another news article reported:
[the] constant peering down at their devices as they go walking around looking for - I guess it's Pokémon they're looking for, that's something like the Tooth Fairy, I guess - they're putting themselves at risk of accidents
His refusal to understand, his superficial assessment of the phenomenon, and his cheap and derisive comment about "looking for the Tooth Fairy" are all symptomatic of the mentality of the eveel

To be clear: I'm not saying that Officer Bratton is an eveel in all respects. Mishlei speaks in generalities and archetypes which rarely correspond 100% with any individuals in the real world. Still, the foolishness of his statement stands as a stunning example of the eveel's attitude towards those aspects of reality which he does not wish to face. 

So for those Pokémon Go players out there: may you succeed in catching Eevees, without encountering any eveels. (I'm sorry!!!)


[1] I'm aware that my Mishlei rebbi's explanation of the ksil sounds more like my explanation of the eveel. I guess I'll just have to learn more Mishlei to see whose explanation makes more sense to me!

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Richard Mitchell: On Knowing vs. Knowing About

Last week's post from Richard Mitchell's The Gift of Fire reminded me of another of my many favorite ideas from that book. This one is from Mitchell's introduction. Since his introduction is so short and rich with ideas, I have decided to post the entire thing. I would like to call special attention to the three passages I've emphasized in bold towards the end. 

Originally posted in June, 2009.

Artwork: Ancestral Recall, by Ryan Pancoast


Richard Mitchell: On Knowing vs. Knowing About
- Introduction to The Gift of Fire

I SUSPECT THAT THOSE WHO have read some of my other works will be a little surprised by this one. I am a little surprised by this one.

That, in itself, is nothing new. I have never yet written anything, long or short, that did not surprise me. That is, for me at least, the greatest worth of writing, which is only incidentally a way of telling others what you think. Its first use is for the making of what you think, for the discovery of understanding, an act that happens only in language.

I have habitually found it convenient, and perhaps just a little too easy, to look for understanding by paying close attention to failures of understanding, which always take the form of bad language. Just as there is nothing but language in which to make sense, there is nothing but language in which to make nonsense. So, in my works, at least, the examination of sense and nonsense has ordinarily been a sometimes clever and amusing castigation of fools, who can be shown to imagine that they make sense when they don't.

The castigation of fools is, of course, an ancient and honorable task of writers and, unless very poorly done, an enterprise that will usually entertain those who behold it. No matter what else we imagine that we believe about the propriety of compassion for the unfortunate, we do like to see fools exposed. It's funny. And it is not only funny; it is the great theme of Comedy, and a mild, domestic counterpart of the great theme of Tragedy, in which we rejoice, however sadly, to see villains brought down.

So it is that the habitual contemplation of folly, which does not seem to be the worst thing in the world, leads little by little to some consideration of vice, which does seem to be the worst thing in the world. It is troubling to notice that when we are foolish or "only foolish," as we easily deem it, we find ourselves all the more likely to do bad things. And when we can see, as I think I have so often managed to demonstrate, that some very foolish people are in a position to bring the consequences of their folly not only on themselves but on others, we do have the suspicion that something bad is going on. Surely, if we could certainly pronounce certain persons wise, we would think it a good thing to fall under their influence, and it seems only natural and inescapably right to expect some badness from the influence of fools. So it was that I gradually found, in my own considerations of nonsense, less play and more brooding, less glee and more melancholy, and the growing conviction that the silly mind, just as much as the wicked mind, if there is such a thing, makes bad things happen. And my meditations on foolish language, my own included, grew somber and satirical.

Satire is a cunning, landless opportunist who poaches along the borders of the two great realms of Tragedy and Comedy. The hunting is good, no doubt, for the satirist is nourished by folly and vice, of which there is said to be never any shortage. But, perhaps because I was reared in Comedy's fair land, I am not convinced of that. Folly is thick on the ground, no doubt, but where is vice? I know, I truly do know and can demonstrate, just as surely as one can provide a proof in geometry, that certain influential persons, especially in the schools, do bad things to other people. But they are not villains. They do not will badness. On the contrary, probably far more than most of us, they deliberately intend to do good things. And I am certain that they would do good things, if only they could make sense.

But all of that, obviously, could be said of any one of us. Outside of the pages of fantastic fiction, there is no one who says in the heart, I will do evil. We all intend the good, and would, at least often, do it if we could. But we don't always understand what the good is.

That is hardly a new idea. But, while I have known about it for a long time, heard it with the hearing of the ear, as it were, I haven't truly known it. Between those conditions -- knowing about, and knowing -- I think there is a very big difference. The point of this book was, for me, the discovery of that understanding. True education is not knowing about, but knowing. It is the cure of folly and the curb of vice, and our only hope of escaping what Socrates once called "the greatest peril of this our life" -- not sickness or death, as most of us would say, but the failure to make sense about the better and the worse, and thus to choose the wrong one, thinking it the other.

This is, I'm afraid, a presumptuous book. It is a book about how to live by a man who doesn't know how to live, but who has begun to learn that he doesn't know how.