The Implications of Chazal's "Godless Kiruv" Approach

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Artwork: Godless Shrine, by Cliff Childs

The Implications of Chazal's "Godless Kiruv" Approach

A few years ago, while perusing Midrash Eichah, I came across a statement made by Chazal about how to get people to return to Torah - a statement which, were it not for the fact that Chazal said it, I would have been reluctant to even consider it as a possibility. 

The midrash is based on a phrase from a pasuk in Yirmiyahu, which I will present in context: 

And it shall be that when you tell all these things to this people, they will say to you, "Why has Hashem spoken all this great evil against us? What is our iniquity, what is our transgression that we have transgressed before Hashem our God?" 

And you shall say to them, "It is because your forefathers have abandoned Me" - the word of Hashem - "and they went after other gods and served them and bowed down to them, and they abandoned Me and they didn't keep My Torah" (Yirmiyahu 16:10-11).

The midrash (Eichah Rabbah: Pesichta 2) says:

R' Huna and R' Yirmiyah said in the name of R' Chiyya bar Abba: It is written, "they abandoned Me and they did not keep My Torah" - if only they had abandoned Me but kept My Torah, because they involved themselves in it, the illumination within it would have returned them to the good.

Rav Huna said: Learn Torah, even she'lo lishmah (not for its own sake), because from she'lo lishmah, one will come [to learn it] lishmah (for its own sake).

According to the midrash, the tragedy of Churban ha'Bayis (the destruction of the Temple) and galus (exile) only happened because Bnei Yisrael abandoned Hashem and didn't learn [1] His Torah, but if they only abandoned Hashem but continued to learn Torah, then the "light of Torah" would have ultimately brought them back. 

There are two major questions on this midrash: 

(1) What does it mean by "abandoning Hashem"? Is this talking about violating halacha? Is it talking about worshiping other gods? Is it talking about atheism?

(2) How does "the illumination of Torah" bring people back to the good? This question must be answered specifically with regards to people who have "abandoned Hashem." 

To answer the first question it would make sense to consult the meforshim on the phrase "they have abandoned Me" in the pasuk on which our midrash is based. Unfortunately, the answers they provide aren't so clear.

• The Targum Yonasan [2] strips the phrase of its anthropomorphic implications by rendering "abandoned Me" as "abandoned My worship." 
• The Metzudas David [3] explains it to mean "they didn't believe in Me in their hearts," which we can't take at face value because the pasuk right before it says that Bnei Yisrael will ask: "Why has Hashem spoken all this great evil against us? What is our iniquity, what is our transgression that we have transgressed before Hashem our God?" Clearly Bnei Yisrael at least professed belief in Hashem, and seems to have believed in Him on a conscious level. Does the Metzudas David mean that their emunah (conviction) in God was flawed or insufficient? If so, how? 
• According to the Malbim, [4] the phrase "abandoned Me" refers to the fact that prior generations forgot Torah, and therefore they didn't know Hashem. This reading poses its own difficulties when we consider what the midrash might mean when it contemplates the possibility of Bnei Yisrael abandoning Hashem but still learning Torah; this would seem to be worse than abandoning both of them, due to forgetting Torah. 

So the answer to our first question is ... unclear. We'll just have to work on the second question, and then extrapolate as much as we can about the first. 

The answer to the second question, I believe, can be found in a statement of the Rambam. [5] In Chapter 6 of Hilchos Teshuvah the Rambam gives his interpretation of the pesukim: "Good and upright is Hashem; therefore He guides sinners on the path. He leads the humble with justice and teaches His way to the humble" (Tehilim 25:7-8). He explains:

This means that Hashem has sent prophets to them, who teach them the ways of Hashem and help them to return in teshuvah. Moreover, He instilled within them the capacity to learn and to understand - for this tendency is present in every man, that the more he is drawn after the ways of chochmah (wisdom) and tzedek (righteousness), the more he desires them and pursues them. This is what the Sages meant by "ha'ba l'taher, mesayin oso" ("one who comes to be purified is assisted") - in other words, he will find himself assisted in the matter [by the aforementioned natural tendency].

I believe the answer to our second question is that if a person is learning Torah with the correct approach, then his internal draw towards chochmah and tzedek will increase his attachment to Torah-learning, and will ultimately "return him to the good." Probably not in every case, but enough for the midrash to be able to make its generalization. 

What leads me to believe that this interpretation is correct? Because I have witnessed it with my own eyes. I'm speaking both as a teacher and as a student of Torah. I've seen many cases involving my own students - or my fellow talmidim (students) in high school and in yeshiva - who were atheists, agnostics, or irreligious. At first they displayed emotional resistance to certain Jewish topics, but were nevertheless drawn to the chochmas ha'Torah (the wisdom of Torah). Over the course of several years of learning, their natural desire for chochmah and tzedek was awakened and strengthened, and they wanted more. Eventually, their learning led them to embrace Torah as a system, at which point, it can be said that they have "returned to the good." 

Can this happen on a national level, as it would seem from the context [6] of the pesukim? We might be inclined to say "no," but far be it for us to underestimate the transformative power of the chochmas ha'Torah - especially when presented by a good teacher. 

Now, you may be wondering why the title of this post is: "The Implications of Chazal's Godless Kiruv Approach." Other than clickbait reasons, my intent was to open up the discussion about how the principle in this midrash might be implemented in kiruv (Jewish outreach). 

Disclaimer: I have already written about my personal stance on kiruv. To sum it up: I'm generally not in favor of kiruv. At the same time, we live in an era where "kiruv" and "regular Torah education" overlap in many ways. It is far more common nowadays to encounter students from Orthodox Jewish homes in Orthodox Jewish Day Schools whose Jewish education is sorely lacking, and who - most likely due to the Internet - have numerous questions, doubts, and problems with Judaism which have not been adequately addressed by their teachers.

The standard approach that is often taken with these students is to try making them into "believers." There is a lot of emphasis placed on "curing" them of their atheism or agnosticism. In my personal and professional opinion, this approach is not fruitful, and often backfires.

Instead, I prefer the approach implicit in this midrash. The priority should be exposure to "the illumination of Torah" - namely, providing students with high quality exposure to the chochmah and tzedek of Torah. This doesn't mean that topics about Hashem should be avoided (God forbid!), but rather, that the emphasis should be on the involvement in the learning itself - not in "converting" students to belief in Hashem. The goal should be attachment to Torah learning. If that goal is achieved, then the rest will follow.

This course is fraught with dangers as well. One must be careful not to present an “Orthopraxy” version of Judaism, which downplays (or outright objects to) the role of belief in the practice of Torah. Similarly, one must not fall into the trap of “the bad Academic Approach,” which reduces Torah to a mere cultural repository of ancient beliefs, rather than a regimen designed to develop a truth-seeking mind.

I'm not saying that this is a simple solution. There are many complexities that need to be worked out on paper, and even more which need to be addressed in the classroom. Each and every student is different, and it isn't realistic to hope for a one-size-fits-all approach.

Nevertheless, I think that this midrash is expressing a powerful model of kiruv which should be considered in the present age of Torah education. Tzarich iyun (this requires further analysis).

[1] Last year a chavrusa of mine challenged my reading of the phrase "kept My Torah." He wanted to read "keeping Torah" in this midrash to mean "keeping halacha" rather than "learning Torah." I think such a reading is extremely forced. First of all, the midrash uses the phrase מתוך שהיו מתעסקים בה ("because they involved themselves in it"), and "עוסק בתורה" always refers to learning Torah - not keeping halacha. Secondly, our midrash is followed immediately by Rav Huna's statement, which is about learning Torah - not keeping halacha. Lastly, if you do a search for meforshim who cite our midrash in their commentary, you'll find that they understand it to be talking about learning Torah - not keeping halacha. See Metzudas David on Yirmiyahu 9:12 and Tehilim 119:104; Rabbeinu Yonah in Shaarei Teshuvah 697; Ha'amek Davar on Devarim 32:47; Derech Hashem 4:2.

[2] Targum Yonasan on Yirmiyahu 16:12

[3] Rav David Altschuler (Metzudas David), Commentary on Sefer Yirmiyahu 16:11

[4] Rav Meir Leibush ben Yechiel Michel (Malbim), Commentary on Sefer Yirmiyahu 16:11

[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah 6:4

[6] at least, if we take this midrash as an actual interpretation, and not just a drashah

Musings on "The Academic Approach"

I'm classifying this as a "musings" post because I do not feel that my own thoughts on this subject are developed enough to be presentation-worthy. However, since the centerpiece of this post consists of excerpts from another writer whose insights have clarified my own thoughts on the subject, I decided that it would be worthwhile sharing. 

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Artwork: Tolarian Academy, by Stephen Daniele

Musings on "The Academic Approach"

My Frame of Reference

When it comes to my own hashkafah (outlook on Judaism/life), I turn to the Geonim, Rishonim, and early Achronim - which I will henceforth refer to by the collective term "Kadmonim." [1] Practically speaking, this means:

• I learn Torah she'bi'Chsav (the Written Torah) and Torah she'baal Peh (the Oral Torah) using their commentaries
• I study their works on Jewish philosophy in developing my worldview
• I operate on the assumption that the writings of the Kadmonim contain everything necessary for understanding Judaism, and although later authorities have a lot to offer, they are - at most - building upon the foundations laid by the Kadmonim
• I evaluate recent (i.e. post-15th century) innovations in light of the works of these earlier authorities, assuming that if these "new developments" clash with the fundamentals of the Kadmonim, they ipso facto fall outside of the pale of authentic Judaism

To be clear: I do not have anything against the later Achronim and modern-day Jewish thinkers. Readers of this blog know how big of a fan I am of the Malbim (19th century), Rav Hirsch (19th century), Rav Soloveitchik (20th century), and other recent chachamim. Nevertheless, I give precedence to the views of the Kadmonim in my understanding of Judaism.

"Academics" Good and Bad

Until now I have been speaking about what we might call "traditional commentators." But over the past century or two there has arisen a new coterie of commentators: the so-called "academics." I won't even attempt to define the term "academic" here because I tend to use it in a loose sense, rather than as a technical designation.

Broadly speaking, I am referring to those who employ modern methods and techniques of research and analysis in their study of the traditional texts. Some rely on historical and archaeological findings as the basis for their theories. Some utilize contemporary methods of literary criticism. Others analyze traditional texts through the lenses of present-day theories of sociology, psychology, and culture. Others I classify as "academics" not because of the methods they use, but because they approach the texts without any consultation of the baalei Mesorah whatsoever - limiting their scholastic cross-referencing to works that were published within the past 100-150 years and neglecting the thousands of years of Jewish scholarship prior to the modern era.

Over the course of my learning I have found there to be "Good Academics" whose writings have enlightened me and enhanced my understanding of Torah, and I have found there to be "Bad Academics" whose scholarship I would characterize as drivel, wild speculation, and outright kefirah (heresy). Examples of "Good Academics" whose works I have used in my own teaching and learning include Menachem Kellner, David Berger, Rabbi David Fohrman, Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, and a handful of others. Examples of "Bad Academics" abound, but I'd rather not mention names for fear of needlessly alienating readers.

In recent years I have routinely asked myself: What is the difference between the Good Academics and Bad Academics? Is there some common denominator which unifies the former and differentiates them from the latter, or is this distinction to be made on a case-by-case basis? Is there a litmus test to determine which is which, or must I rely on my intuition?

In thinking about this question I arrived at the following basic distinction. Good Academics are interested in ideas, and use modern academic methods as tools in their pursuit of truth and knowledge of objective reality. In contrast, the Bad Academics are not interested in understanding ideas for their truth-value; they are interested in other things, such as cultural trends, historical patterns, ideological influences, and so on - not in order to understand objective reality, but merely to gain knowledge about particulars relative to other particulars.

I am aware that this definition is far from complete. It is lacking in both clarity and diagnostic utility. How can one tell whether the author of a particular work is "interested in objective truth"? Are there any signs by which one can distinguished the "idea-based" approach from its counterfeit counterpart? Is this criterion even objective, or is it inherently biased by one's personal standard for what constitutes "an idea"?

Kass's "Wisdom-seeking Approach"

Several years ago I came across a nice, clear, definitive statement on "the Good Academic Approach" written (ironically) by none other than a Good Academic! One of my academically-inclined friends recommended The Beginning of Wisdom: Reading Genesis, by Leon Kass. Here's some background information about the author from his Wikipedia page:

Leon Richard Kass (born February 12, 1939) is an American physician, scientist, educator, and public intellectual, best known as a proponent of liberal education via the "Great Books," as an opponent of human cloning, life extension and euthanasia, as a critic of certain areas of technological progress and embryo research, and for his controversial tenure as chairman of President's Council on Bioethics from 2001 to 2005. Although Kass is often referred to as a bioethicist, he eschews the term and refers to himself as "an old-fashioned humanist. A humanist is concerned broadly with all aspects of human life, not just the ethical."

At first I was skeptical about reading a commentary on Sefer Bereishis by a "secular humanist," but I trusted my friend's recommendation and decided to give it a try. I was pleasantly surprised! Kass did an extraordinary and fruitful job of analyzing Bereishis from a fresh perspective. In fact, his approach to the first chapter of Bereishis made such an impression on me that I adopted it as a basis for my unit on Maaseh Bereishis (the Creation Story) in my Chumash class.

In his introduction Kass writes about the method he will be using. He characterizes his approach as "philosophic." I will now share some excerpts from this section with my own emphases indicated by underlining:

What, you may well ask, do I mean by “philosophic” and “philosophic reading”? By “philosophic” I mean wisdom-seeking and wisdom-loving, after the literal meaning of the ancient Greek term philosophia, the love and pursuit of wisdom. Philosophy in this original sense refers not to some specialized academic subject matter (the field of philosophy) or to some finished doctrine (my philosophy of life) or to some method of reasoning and questioning practiced by card-carrying professional philosophers (the discipline of philosophy). Rather it denotes the activity of Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and any of their descendants who single-mindedly and wholeheartedly – yet thoughtfully and self-critically – seek to discover the truth about the world and our place within it and to find thereby guidance for how we are to live. This book results from my efforts to read the book of Genesis in this spirit, the same spirit in which I read Plato’s Republic or Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics – indeed, any great book – seeking wisdom regarding human life lived well in relation to the whole.

This is exactly what I meant by my statement that "Good Academics are interested in ideas." "Wisdom-seeking" is an even better term than "interested in ideas," since it encompasses more of what we value in our talmud Torah (Torah study). Moreover, Kass's goal ("to discover the truth about the world and our place within it and to find thereby guidance for how we are to live") is entirely consonant with my own goal in learning and teaching, which (according to my understanding) is in line with the purpose of talmud Torah according to Judaism.

Kass then contrasts his method with that of contemporary academics - the "Bad Academics" of whom I spoke - and provides the best description of their approach:

It is, I am well aware, unusual to read the Bible in this manner and with these aspirations, especially today. Contemporary academic prejudices tend to deny that the Bible can still serve as a vital source of human understanding and moral instruction. Since the nineteenth century most biblical scholars, interested less in the meaning and more in the sources of the text, have seen the Hebrew Bible not as a unified literary whole but as an aggregate of separate documents derived from diverse sources. They read it not as a possible source of wisdom regarding enduring human questions but as a documentary evidence of the sensibilities and prejudices of an ancient people. In their view, the truths to be learned from the book are not universal and enduring truths about God and man, but merely parochial and historical truths about the beliefs of the ancient children of Israel whose book it once was. This view of the source critics is perfectly compatible with the most recent approach of many literary critics who read the Bible as literature but who do not regard literature as an aid to wisdom. They tend to be interested, for example, in finding cross-cultural comparisons between the biblical myths of the ancient Hebrews and the myths of Gilgamesh and other literary works of the ancient world, but they rarely ponder which, if any, might be closer to the truth of things. Most recently, self-proclaimed politicized scholars, distressed over the continuing authority of the book in some quarters of American society, have not been content just to historicize and relativize the text. Instead, reading it under the influence of, say, Marxist or feminist or environmentalist ideologies, they attack its apparent teachings as racist, sexist, and anthropocentric. In their view the Bible, if taken seriously, turns out to be a source not of wisdom but of dangerous error and folly. 

This is a far better asessment of "the Bad Academic Approach" than I am currently capable of writing, and expresses most or all of the problems I have with that method.

Further on in his introduction Kass states the goals of his commentary on Bereishis. He also has a nice response to those religious (primarily Christian) readers who might object to his imposition of a "wisdom-seeking methodology" on the revealed word of God:

This book on Genesis, addressed to serious and thoughtful readers of whatever kind or degree of religious knowledge and practice, has three major purposes: First, to demonstrate by example a wisdom-seeking approach to the Bible that attempts to understand the text in its own terms yet tries to show how such an understanding may address us in our current situation of moral and spiritual neediness. Second, to recover in their full power the stories of Genesis as tales to live with, as stories illuminating some of the most important and enduring questions of human existence. Third, to make at least plausible the power of the Biblical approach and response to these questions, with its emphasis on righteousness, holiness, and reverence for the divine … An equally severe difficulty comes from the other side, from those who regard the Bible as the revealed word of God. For them it is definitely a book, but not a book that can be read and interrogated like any other. It seems rather to demand a certain prior commitment to the truth of the account, even in order to understand it. Faith, it is sometimes said, is the prerequisite to understanding. But the Hebrew Bible in fact suggests the contrary. In Deuteronomy, Moses asserts that observing the statutes and ordinances that God has commanded is Israel's "wisdom and understanding in the eyes of the people, that when they hear all these statutes shall say, 'Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people'" (4:6). The wisdom of the Torah is said by the Torah to be accessible to everyone, at least in part.

Lastly, Kass sets forth the four specific methodological assumptions he will be making in reading:

As a result of many readings and rereadings, I now make the following "methodological" assumptions in my efforts at interpretation: First, there is a coherent order and plan to the whole, and the order of the stories is of more than chronological significance. Second, every word counts. Third, juxtapositions are important; what precedes or what follows a given sentence or story may be crucial for discovering its meaning. (It matters, for example, that the Noahide code and covenant appear as the immediate sequel to Noah's animal sacrifice tendered at the end of the Flood. It matters, too, that there are two juxtaposed and very different stories of the creation of man or of the multiplication of nations and languages.) Fourth and finally, the teachings of the text are not utterly opaque to human reason, even if God and other matters remain veiled in mystery. Though, as we shall see, the text takes a dim view of the sufficiency of human reason, it presents this critical view to human reason in a most intelligible and powerful way. One can approach the text in a spirit of inquiry, even if one comes as a result to learn the limitations of such philosophic activity.

These four methodological assumptions are completely consistent with the unstated premises of our baalei Mesorah and traditional commentators. I can't think of a single fault that any of Kadmonim would find in any of these assumptions.

I have found no better example of a secular "professional academic" approaching Torah with a genuine wisdom-seeking attitude, an intellectually honest mind, and a solid methodology which attempts to understand the text on its own terms in order to understand and live in line with reality. His articulation of the difference between the Good Academic Approach and the Bad Academic Approach is the best I've seen, and I would be happy to learn from any Academics who follow in Kass's path.

[1] These Kadmonim include, but are not limited to: Rambam, R' Avraham ben ha'Rambam, Rav Hai Gaon, Saadia Gaon, Ramban, Ibn Ezra, Ralbag, Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda, Rif, Sforno, Rashba, Rashi, Baalei Tosafos, Ritva, Radak, Rashbam, R' Yosef Albo, R' Yehudah ha'Levi, Meiri, Avudarham, Raavad, Ran, Rabbeinu Yonah, Sefer Ha'Chinuch, Abravanel, Chazkuni, Rabbeinu Bachye ben Asher, Rosh, Tur, and more.