Mortimer Adler's Kryptonite

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Mortimer Adler and his wife with Pope Paul VI

Mortimer Adler's Kryptonite

Readers of this blog will be aware of my love and admiration of Mortimer J. Adler (1902 - 2001). To him I owe my knowledge and familiarity with a host of philosophical ideas. Not only did he introduce me to the fundamentals, but he also steered me away from some pretty severe philosophical mistakes. He taught me how to read a book, and introduced me to The Great Books of the Western World. He greatly influenced my writing style, and his essay on learning and teaching became the foundation of my approach to teaching. 

And yet, like all superheroes, Adler had his weakness. Unfortunately, that weakness was religion. Specifically, Thomistic Catholicism.

This post is not intended to be a comprehensive treatment of Adler's views on Catholicism, or on theology in general. If that is of interest to you, read his book Truth in Religion: The Plurality of Religions and the Unity of Truth (1992), which will be discussed later in this blog post.

Instead, in this post I will present an email which I wrote to one of my rabbeim (whom we'll refer to as RJM) ten years ago, at the height of my Adler odyssey, inquiring about Adler's fall into Catholicism. 

Here is my email and RJM's response, minimally edited for publishing on this blog. Links and transliterations were added by me.

[Note: even though I say so clearly in my email, I want to emphasize that the third question was not asked by me, but by one of the younger yeshiva guys; I, myself, would have phrased the question differently - in a decidedly less "Christian" manner.]

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Kol ha'Seridim to RJM

Dear [RJM],

As a fellow reader of Mortimer J. Adler, I have three question about Adler and religion that I'd like to hear your thoughts (or opinions) on.

Question #1: What's up with his conversion to Christianity? I was just rereading the passage at the end of his second autobiography, which details his conversion: 

In March of 1984, after a trip to Mexico in February, I fell ill, probably from a virus that I had picked up there. The illness was protracted. I was in the hospital for five weeks and, after leaving the hospital, was in bed at home for several months or more. Though I underwent all the diagnostic tests and procedures that the physicians could think of, the illness was never adequately diagnosed; and the cure, when it finally came, involved numerous antibiotics and two blood transfusions that brought my red corpuscle blood counts back to normal.  

During this long stay in the hospital, I suffered a mild depression, and often when Caroline visited me I would, unaccountably, burst into tears. Father Howell, the Rector of Saint Chrysostom's Church, also visited me, and once when, at my bedside, he prayed for my recovery, I choked up and wept. The only prayer that I knew word for word, was the Pater Noster. On that day and in the days after it, I found myself repeating the Lord's Prayer, again and again, and meaning every word of it. Quite suddenly, when I was awake one night, a light dawned on me, and I realized what had happened without my recognizing it clearly when it first happened.  

I had been seriously praying to God. But had I not said at the end of How to Think About God, that no one who understood the God of the philosophers as well as I thought I did, would worship that God or pray to him. Only if, by the gift of grace, one made the leap of faith across the chasm to the God of religious Jews and Christians, would one engage in worship and prayer, believing in a morally good, loving, just, and merciful God.  

Here after many years of affirming God's existence and trying to give adequate reasons for that affirmation, I found myself believing in God and praying to Him ...

In your opinion, is this just another example of an otherwise rational mind being overcome by a powerful religious emotion at a time of insecurity and proximity to death? Or did Adler himself commit a severe philosophical mistake - no doubt originating in his preoccupation with Thomas Aquinas - of which we he was unaware? At the end of this chapter in the autobiography, Adler makes some statements about "the mystery of the Trinity." I find it baffling that the same mind who wrote How to Think About God can simultaneously embrace faith in the Christian doctrine, all on the basis of "grace" which was "received" during a bout of illness and a period of depression. 

Again, perhaps this is just another example of how we humans can compartmentalize, shutting off our minds in certain areas of our lives, no matter how rational we are in everything else. 

Question #2: What about the Torah mi'Sinai argument? From How to Think About God, it appears that Adler was completely unaware of the Sinai argument: 

A third point to be noted follows directly on what has just been said. In the three monotheistic religions of the West - Judaism, Christianity, and Islam - the proposition that God exists is not an article of faith or religious belief. The first article of faith in all three religions is that God has revealed himself to us in Holy Writ or Sacred Scripture. This, of course, entails the affirmation that God has revealed himself to us in Holy Writ or Sacred Scripture. This, of course, entails the affirmation that the God who has revealed himself exists. But it goes far beyond that proposition to something that can never be proved, or even argued about, something that is always and only an article of faith or religious belief: namely, the fact of Divine revelation ... 

It is in no way improper to argue about whether belief in God's existence can be established by reason alone, or at least thereby made reasonable. But it would be quite improper to argue about the reasonableness of the first article of religious faith, that Sacred Scripture represents God's revelation of himself to us. That belief can be neither proved nor disproved, nor is it really a proper subject of argument pro and con. 

Did he just not encounter Torah mi'Sinai in his reading? Does he have some argument against Torah mi'Sinai of which I am unaware? If so, I would love to hear it.

Question #3: What is the state of Adler's soul? This is a question that one of the other guys in yeshiva asked me. I don't really know enough about the soul to be certain that I understand the question, which is why I have turned to you. 

Any thoughts on these questions would be most appreciated. 

- [Kol ha'Seridim]

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RJM to Kol ha'Seridim

Dear [Kol ha'Seridim],

Great to hear from you. I hope you are well.

Response to Question #1: I think Adler had an unusual attitude to religion, inasmuch as he accepted the Thomistic distinction between matters of faith and matters of reason. He seems to have systematically excluded theological doctrines from genuine philosophical scrutiny, because of his assumption that their acceptance or denial is premised on faith and not rational analysis alone.

Adler has a whole book on the subject of religion, called "Truth in Religion", which, in my opinion, is the worst volume he ever produced, poorly reasoned and very obviously a "set up" designed to lead the interested person to the "leap of faith" into Catholic Christianity.

The book starts out rationally, seeking to demonstrate that we must reject relativism and seek objective truth even in the realm of religion. Nowadays, this is a major point that needs to be stressed, so kol ha'kavod to him for making it clear. He summarily dismisses polytheistic religions for good reason, but these are about the only meritorious aspects of the text. It is all downhill from there.

Adler argues, for example, that the mysteriousness of a religion is evidence for its veracity, because a purely rational religion wouldn't require revelation for its establishment. In these passages he is clearly arguing in favor of Christianity and against Judaism, although he is never so explicit. All in all, it is not an objective I don't recommend the book, although I am confident that you would not come to any harm in reading it ...

By the way, it is well known that a disproportionate number of Adler's Jewish students in the University of Chicago converted to Catholicism after studying Aquinas with him, although he waited till much later to do so.

Response to Question #2: I doubt if he was aware of the argument. Most philosophers aren't. For example, David Conway (ironically, a student of Antony Flew) authored a book called "The Rediscovery of Wisdom", in which he argues that the ultimate goal of philosophy should be the contemplation of God, and that generations of philosophers have been misled by the gross distortions of later thinkers. He basically shows that the purpose of philosophy was classically understood as a process of achieving yediat Hashem (knowledge of God) and ahavat Hashem (love of God), and also argues that many of the supposed "debunkings" of proofs for God's existence are fatally flawed and should never have gained the currency they now have in academia. He therefore reestablishes the existence of God as a fact and the goal of knowledge of God as the raison d'etre of all rational creatures.

Amazingly, he brings Judaism into this, looking at the varied interpretations of Maimonides and Spinoza vis a vis the purpose of mitsvot. Conway concludes that the Torah's objective is indeed what Maimonides states - the same as the objective of philosophy, to enable the Jewish nation to dedicate their lives to the contemplation of God. Keep in mind that this guy is a secular academic, so this is all pretty amazing already.

The problem emerges when he compares the relative merits of philosophy and Judaism, and questions the basis for belief in the revelation claim. He literally totally misreads the story and misrepresents the tradition, claiming that Jews themselves believe that the events were not written down until hundreds of years after the fact, etc. He doesn't even mention the mass revelation component because, as he states in the text, his impression is that Moses went up onto a mountain by himself to receive the laws!!! (I tried to contact and correct him, but I was unsuccessful and kind of gave up).

BTW, I also penned a letter to M.J. Adler, which he received and which was read to him, literally days before his death. The response I got from his assistant was that matters of religion are very personal. But I did argue for the rationality of belief in Judaism as opposed to Christianity quite passionately. Perhaps he had hirhurei teshuva (thoughts of repentance) before he died.

Response to Question #3: Ultimately, I don't think anyone but the Ribbono Shel Olam (Master of the Universe) can know the answer to this question in a definitive manner. We have no access to the recesses of anyone's soul, how they truly conceive of God, etc. So speculation is all we have.

Adler accepted an idolatrous religion but his sophisticated version of that religion precluded him from the gross philosophical materialism, emotionalism and infantile God-concept normally associated with it. So it would seem that the possibility exists that Adler's soul was sufficiently actualized and thus distinct from matter such that it could have survived his physical death. And from the standpoint of halakha he was certainly a tinoq shenishba (a "captured baby" i.e. a Jew who was raised without knowledge of Judaism) par excellence, so a halakhically mandated karet (spiritual excision) wouldn't be an issue. Plus, the remote chance exists that he may have recognized his error and repented in his last moments of life.

On the other hand, it is possible that his conception of God (the foundation of his understanding of reality) was not sufficiently purified of its material elements and thus his soul remained imprisoned in the shackles of physicality and perished.

In the end, whatever he was zocheh (meritorious) to, we can be sure he received it! 

I hope this speedily composed response is helpful. Feel free to continue the correspondence as you see fit.

Best Regards,

RJM

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I found RJM's response to be enlightening, since it provided a greater context for Adler's theological misstep. I was particularly intrigued by RJM's attempt to contact Adler on his deathbed, and the latter's response (via his assistant) that "matters of religion are very personal" - an uncharacteristic response from a man who was so committed to truth and precision in thinking.

In writing this blog post I came across an article by Deal Hudson about Adler's conversion, entitled The Great Philosopher Who Became Catholic. Hudson writes:

The more we talked the more I realized Mortimer really wanted to be a Roman Catholic, but issues like abortion and the resistance of his family and friends were keeping him away. I tried to show him that his own Aristotelian-Thomistic metaphysics of act-potency led him to understand the necessity of protecting unborn life. But just at that moment, Mortimer would uncharacteristically mutter, "It's all too complicated," and change the subject. But I knew that he knew he was being inconsistent. I didn't have to press him – because I knew he knew, and it was only a matter of time before he acquiesced.

At several of our seminars was the Catholic prelate of San Jose, Bishop Pierre DuMaine. The bishop and I would sometimes tag-team the philosopher on the Catholic Church, and we would all end up laughing about how Mortimer deflected the inevitable conclusion.

These reports of inconsistency and evasiveness on Adler's part in matters of religion are consistent with RJM's testimony about Adler's response to his letter. 

It would be easy to pass judgment on Adler and condemn him for this severe intellectual / philosophical / epistemological shortcoming. Indeed, when I first learned of this truth, I held it against him, and was almost angry at him for this failing. I felt: "How could MY Adler, whose views on all philosophical matters are backed by airtight reasoning and solid arguments - how could he hold such a stupid view? Arriving at a false conclusion through a mistake in reasoning is one thing, and I realize that no human being is infallible, but to accept an irrational belief system on the basis of an irrational 'faith experience'? That is unforgivable." 

Looking back at my reaction, I am reminded of one of my favorite passages from John Steinbeck's East of Eden:

When a child first catches adults out - when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not always have divine intelligence, that their judgments are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just - his world falls into panic desolation. The gods are fallen and all safety gone. And there is one sure thing about the fall of gods: they do not fall a little; they crash and shatter or sink deeply into green muck. It is a tedious job to build them up again; they never quite shine. And the child's world is never quite whole again. It is an aching kind of growing.

Now, ten years after this email exchange, with an additional decade's worth of learning, maturity, and self-knowledge under my belt, my judgment of Adler has softened considerably. I have come to realize that we ALL have our blind-spots. Some people go through their entire lives without becoming aware of their blind-spots. Others, like Adler, actively resist the distortion in thinking which arise from these hidden biases, but ultimately succumb in moments of weakness. None of us is immune to this type of blindness, and we can never be sure that we won't succumb. 

Now I am at the point of maturity where I realize that it is possible to acknowledge that a great thinker can make a childish error, without this diminishing the emunas chachamim I have when reading his works, "for there is no man so wholly righteous on earth who does [only] good and never sins" (Koheles 7:20).

Every superhero has his kryptonite. 

Is Judaism a Religion? (Version 2.0)

Two hours into writing this post I realized that I had already written and published this post on this blog in 2014. Since the direction I took this time around is different than the direction I took last time, I decided to finish writing the post to see what would happen. I was happy with the result. Since I think this one is the better version, I decided to remove the other one from the blog.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Spoiler Alert: My answer to this question is the same as the answer to the question:
"Are both of these figures Betty White?"

Is Judaism a Religion? (Version 2.0)

Three Reasons for this Post

I was motivated to write this post for three reasons - two of which are pet peeves, and the other of which is a national teshuvah-related musing:

Reason / Pet Peeve #1: Throughout my teaching career I've had a number of students who have struggled with their relationship to Judaism. Sometimes these students express themselves by saying things like, "I have problems with religion" or "I have mixed feelings towards religion." 

This irks me. I'm not bothered by the fact that they have problems or mixed feelings, but by their use of the blanket-term "religion." Sometimes I'll ask them, "Really? Which religion?" They look at me with surprise in their eyes and answer, "Um. Judaism?" to which I respond, "So why did you say that you have problems with 'religion' as a whole, rather than with 'Judaism' or 'Torah' or 'being frum'?" The answers they tend to give lead directly into the subject matter of this blog post.

[Just to be clear: I don't blame or judge these students for lumping Judaism into the larger category of "religion." This is merely a symptom of the mistake which will presently be discussed.] 

Reason / Pet Peeve #2: Similarly, I am bothered by the use of the term "Judeo-Christian values." I do not dispute the fact that there are certain political agendas which unite religious Jews and Christians finding themselves on the same side of the aisle. I'm not talking about this kind of thing (i.e. "Judeo-Christian agendas" or "Judeo-Christian political objectives"). I am referring to the persistent myth that Judaism and Christianity share a common value system or a similar core belief system. I even considered entitling this post "The Myth of Judeo-Christian Values."

Reason #3: I am writing this post on the 17th of Tammuz. The Rambam [1] writes: 

"Five tzaros (calamities) occurred on the 17th of Tammuz: (a) the Tablets were broken; (b) in Bayis Rishon (the First Holy Temple) the tamid (continual offering) was discontinued; (c) the walls of Jerusalem were breached [in the war leading up to] the destruction of the second [Temple]; (d) Apostamos, the wicked [Roman general], burned a Sefer Torah; (e) he erected an idol in the Beis ha'Mikdash."

Based on Tuesday's post about national teshuvah gemurah, we must conclude that all five of these events were caused by national chataim (sins), and that these chataim still exist within the Jewish people today. In this vein, I began musing about the last tzarah mentioned by the Rambam. I thought to myself: "If the chataim of the Jews at the time of the Second Beis ha'Mikdash resulted in avodah zarah (idolatry) being erected in our holiest site, what is the parallel that exists today? How have we, as 21st century Jews, enabled avodah zarah to be erected in our holiest sites?" 

Call it speculation, call it drash (homiletics), call it "using symbolism as a rhetorical device" - my mind associated to the contents of today's post. I will explain this association below.

Without further ado, let's tackle the question at hand.

Is Judaism a Religion?

When asked this question by students, I tend to give the following answer: "Either Judaism is not a religion, or Judaism is the only religion." This is just a cheeky way of answering: "No, Judaism is not a religion." My answer is based on three features which place Judaism into its own category, distinct from other religions. In order to sound fancy, let us refer to these as "the three pillars."  

1. Emunah vs. Faith: I have written several posts about the definition of emunah and the primacy of emunah in Judaism. Most, if not all, other religions are based on faith, whereas Judaism is based on emunah. By "faith" I mean conviction without (or in spite of) knowledge, evidence, and reason. By "emunah" I mean conviction based on knowledge, evidence, and reason. 

Faith and emunah are polar opposites. Since other religions demand a leap of faith, whereas Judaism is built upon a foundation of emunah, it doesn't make sense to classify them under the same heading - just as it wouldn't make sense to include a non-fiction book in the fiction section of the library.

2. Regimen: I have also written several posts about the definition of Torah (which, in this context, is interchangeable with "Judaism"). Ralbag defines Torah as "a regimen that brings those who practice it properly to true success." By "true success" the Ralbag means "comprehension of Hashem, to the extent that is [humanly] possible" which is achieved by keeping halacha, by pursuing intellectual and ethical perfection beyond the dictates of halacha - that is, by emulating Hashem's middos (actions) of chesed (kindness), tzedakah (righteousness), and mishpat (justice) - and by striving to comprehend as much science and Torah as possible. This is the Judaism I practice.

I challenge anyone to find a religion whose character and objectives match this description. There are religions which emphasize ethical development but neglect the development of the intellect. There are religions which advocate pursuing a relationship with God, but have nothing to do with chesed, tzedakah, and mishpat. There are systems which may be described as "regimens" which focus on the pursuit of human perfection, but leave God entirely out of the picture. To my knowledge, there is no other religion which presents itself as a divinely authored regimen for perfection as a tzelem Elokim (truth-seeking human being). 

3. Chochmah: Everything in Judaism is based on chochmah (wisdom), exhibits chochmah, and promotes chochmah. Every halacha (Jewish law) is determined by the unique method of scientific thinking which characterizes the study of Torah she'baal Peh (the Oral Torah). Every mitzvah was given for rational reasons that can be grasped by the human intellect - even the chukim (statutes). No element of authentic Judaism was dictated by arbitrary whim, decreed by inexplicable mystical intuition, or prescribed by religious sentiment. Every feature was arrived at through chochmah. With other religions this is simply not the case. 

These three features set Judaism apart from all other religions. This is why I believe that the answer to the question, "Is Judaism a religion?" is a firm: "NO." 

Rambam's Analogy

One might object, saying: "Fine - I'll accept the fact that Judaism is fundamentally different from other religions, but you can't deny that there are many similarities. For example, consider how many things Judaism and Christianity have in common: monotheism, prayer, reward and punishment, heaven and hell, etc. What do you have to say about that?" 

The best response I have seen to this line of reasoning is the Rambam's analogy in Iggeres Teiman. The Rambam writes:

Our religion differs as much from the other allegedly similar religions as a living man endowed with the faculty of reason differs from a statue which is ever so well carved out of marble, wood, bronze, or silver. When a person ignorant of divine wisdom or of God’s works sees the statue that superficially resembles a man in its contours, form, features, and color, he believes that the structure of the parts of a statue is like the constitution of a man, because he is deficient in his understanding of the inner organization of both. But the informed person who knows the interior of both, is cognizant of the fact that the internal structure of the statue betrays no skillful workmanship at all, whereas the inward parts of a man are truly marvelously made, and testify to the wisdom of the Creator – such as the prolongation of the nerves in the muscles and their ramifications, the branching out of the sinews and their intersections and the network of their ligaments and their manner of growth, the articulations of the bones and the joints, the pulsating and non-pulsating blood vessels and their ramifications, the setting of the limbs into one another, the uncovered and covered parts, every one of these in proportion, in form and proper place.

Likewise, one who is ignorant of the deeper meaning of Scripture and the inner dimension of the Torah would be led to believe that our religion has something in common with a counterfeit religion if he makes a comparison between the two. For he will note that in the Torah there are prohibitions and commandments, just as in counterfeit religions there are permitted and prohibited acts. Both contain a system of religious observances, positive and negative precepts, and reward and punishment. 

If he could only fathom the inner dimensions [of Torah], then he would realize that the essence of the true divine religion lies in the wisdom of its positive and negative precepts, all of which benefit man in his striving after perfection, and which remove every harm that would impede his [pursuit of] this perfection. These commandments enable people to acquire moral and intellectual qualities – the masses according to their ability, and the elite individuals according to their apprehension – so that the community of God becomes pre-eminent, reaching a two-fold perfection: a first perfection, by which I mean man’s spending his life in this world under the best and most agreeable conditions, and a second perfection, by which I mean the apprehension of concepts, each person in accordance with his capacity. 

The other religions which resemble our own have no inner dimension [of wisdom], but are [merely] stories and imitations which are intended for self-glorification, so that people will say that they are similar to so-and-so. However, their counterfeiting is patently clear to the wise. Consequently they become objects of derision and ridicule just as one laughs and smiles at an ape when it imitates the actions of men. 

The Rambam here identifies two qualities which differentiate "the true divine religion" from "counterfeit religions." The first is the chochmah of the Torah, which the Rambam analogizes to the chochmah that is manifest in the design of the human body. The second quality he points out is the essential objective of the Torah's mitzvos, which is to benefit man in his pursuit of human perfection by helping him to acquire moral and intellectual excellence. In contrast, other religions lack an "inner dimension" of chochmah, and are not designed to facilitate man's moral and intellectual development. 

[You might have noticed that these are two out of the three pillars that I mentioned above. At first I wondered why the Rambam left out the fact that other religions are based on faith, whereas Judaism is based on proof. Then I remembered that the Rambam subsequently devotes an entire section of the Iggeres Teiman to this very point, which is why he doesn't mention of it in this analogy.]

All of the apparent similarities listed at the beginning of this section are just that: apparent similarities.

• The Jewish concept of Hashem's Oneness (i.e. that God is Absolutely One, without any parts, qualities, similarities, divisions, multiplicity, or plurality of any kind) is completely different than the so-called monotheism of Christianity - especially the Trinitarian sects of Christianity.
• The Jewish concept of tefilah is utterly different from the infantile Christian concept of prayer, as I wrote about in Jewish Prayer (and Jury Duty).
• The Jewish concept of reward and punishment has nothing in common with the primitive parallel notions in Christianity, as I wrote about in Malbim on Hashgachas Hashem and Human Responsibility.
• The Jewish concept of "heaven" (i.e. Olam ha'ba, or the World to Come) bears no resemblance whatsoever to the childish heaven of Christianity, as I wrote about in Mark Twain: On Olam ha'Ba.

According to the Rambam, the same goes for EVERY seeming similarity between Judaism and Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, or all the other religions. If you learn what Judaism actually holds in each case, you will see that the Judaism differs from the other religions as much as a Madame Tussaud wax figure differs from the person it was modeled after. 

Revisiting the Three Reasons

Let's go back to my three motives for writing this post: (1) my annoyance when people say they "have problems with religion" when they really mean they "have problems with Judaism," (2) the myth of "Judeo-Christian values," and (3) the modern-day corollary to Apostamos setting up an idol in the Beis ha'Mikdash.

re: Reason #1: In my experience, if a student characterizes his or her struggles as being "problems with religion," there is a good chance that the characterization is accurate. Every single time this has happened (so far), I quickly discover that the student is unaware of one, two, or all three of the features that Judaism apart from other religions. Once I help bring these students to the realization of what Judaism really is, it eventually dawns on them that many of their problems have nothing to do with authentic Judaism, and that Judaism supports their criticisms of "religion." This doesn't mean that they won't have other problems with Judaism, but I usually find that this "Aha!" moment creates an inroad and helps these students to be more open to hearing what Judaism has to offer. 

re: Reason #2: I think it's pretty clear at this point in the post that my feelings about the notion of "Judeo-Christian values" are well-founded - certainly according to the Rambam. 

re: Reason #3: Does Apostamos's erection of an idol in the Beis ha'Mikdash have anything to do with the subject of this post? Maybe, and maybe not. But I know one thing: the fact that so many Jews are ignorant of these three pillars indicates that Klal Yisrael has allowed Judaism to become defined by the concepts, values, and terminology of other religions. "They mingled with the nations and learned from their actions" (Tehilim 106:35). This undoubtedly qualifies as a national cheit (sin), and this cheit has resulted in innumerable personal and communal tzaros (calamities). 

Each and every Jew has a sphere of influence. Mine, as a teacher, extends to my students. Yours might be in your shul, or among your coworkers, or with your children. Regardless of how big or small one's sphere of influence is, each of us has a responsibility to practice Torah in a manner which reflects that  “[it is our] wisdom and discernment in the eyes of the nations, who shall hear all these decrees and who shall say, ‘Surely a wise and discerning people is this great nation!’” (Devarim 4:6). 

If you agree with me about these three pillars, then I encourage you to bring awareness to them in your Torah discussions. And if you disagree with me, then I encourage you to speak out against these pillars. The main thing is that you fight to restore authentic Judaism to its previous splendor. The truth will ultimately emerge and be established forever.

Parashas Balak: On Citing Midrash as Proof

This week's dvar Torah focuses on an important methodological rule of thumb regarding the proper place of aggadic midrashim (i.e. the non-halachic teachings of Chazal). Enjoy! (For those who wanted the type of dvar Torah that can be "said over" at a Shabbos table - sorry for letting you down. This one is more like a regular blog post which happens to utilize something from the parashah.)

Parashas Balak: On Citing Midrash as Proof

"Bilam was as great of a navi (prophet) as Moshe Rabbeinu."

"WHAT?" 

"It's true." 

"Nonsense. The pasuk says, 'Never again has there arisen in Israel a prophet like Moshe, whom Hashem had known face to face' (Devarim 34:10). Moreover, the Rambam [1] maintains that belief in the uniqueness and superiority of Moshe's nevuah is one of the ikkarim (fundamentals). Anyone who claims that Bilam was equal to Moshe is an apikores. End of story!"

"Oh, so you're calling Chazal apikorsim?"

"Wait a minute - what do you mean?"

"Chazal explicitly equate Bilam with Moshe. In fact, the very pasuk you cited is the basis of their statement."

"I don't believe you. Prove it." 

The plaintiff pulls out the Torah Temimah, opens it to Devarim 34:10, and reads the version [2] of the midrash stated there:

"Never again has there arisen in Israel a prophet like Moshe" - [a prophet like Moshe] didn't arise in Israel, but [such a prophet] did in the nations of the world. Who was this? This was Bilam ben Beor. To what can this be compared? To the royal chef, who knows how much the king spends on his meals.

"Well? What do you have to say to THAT? Are you going to argue with Chazal's explanation? Are you going to accuse them of denying the yesodei ha'Torah?" 

The defendant is dumbfounded.

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Midrashim are a double-edged sword. On the one hand, they contain the deepest ideas. At the same time, they are frequently misunderstood in ways which lead to terrible distortions of Judaism. 

It is my belief that the three leading causes of such misunderstandings are: (1) confusion as to what midrashim are, (2) ignorance as to the proper method of learning midrashim, and (3) a widespread misunderstanding of the proper place of midrashim in the study of Torah. 

The aim of this dvar Torah is not to explain the meaning of the aforementioned midrash about Bilam and Moshe; if you are interested in an explanation, I refer you to the Ramban [3] and the Sefer ha'Ikkarim [4]. Rather, the purpose of this dvar Torah is to present the approach taken by the Geonim and Rishonim when faced with midrashic "proofs" for problematic notions.  

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In the Disputation at Barcelona, Friar Paul posed a similarly troublesome question to the Ramban. The Ramban [5] recounts:

I arose and said: "Listen, all you peoples! Friar Paul asked me if the moshiach (messiah), about whom the neviim (prophets) spoke, has already arrived. I answered that he has not arrived. He then brought a book of aggadah which stated that on the day the Beis ha'Mikdash (Holy Temple) was destroyed, the moshiach was born. 

The problem presented to the Ramban by this midrash is clear: if the moshiach is to bring about the ultimate redemption, as the neviim repeatedly state, then how can it be true that the moshiach was born over a thousand years ago? And if this was stated in a midrash, how can the Ramban disagree? Here is the Ramban's response:

I responded that I don't believe in this [midrash]. Know that we have three types of books. 

(1) The first is the Biblia (a.k.a. "the Bible"), which all of us believe with complete conviction. 

(2) The second is called "Talmud," which is an explanation of the mitzvos of the Torah, for there are 613 mitzvos in the Torah and not a single one of them is unexplained in the Talmud, and we believe in it (i.e. the Talmud) in its explanation of the mitzvos. 

(3) We also have a third book called "midrash" or sermones (a.k.a. "sermons") - for example, when a clergyman gets up and delivers a sermon, and it is deemed to be good by one of the people who hears it, and he writes it down. Regarding [the contents of] this third book: if one believes in it, that is good; but if one doesn't believe in it, then it will not harm him. We have Sages who wrote that the moshiach will not be born until close to the end of times, when he comes to bring us out of exile. Therefore, I don’t believe in what this book says that he was born from the day of the destruction.

In short, the Ramban's answer was: "If your only 'proof' is a midrash, then there is nothing compelling me to believe it - especially when there are other midrashim which contradict it." 

The Ramban's approach to midrashim has its roots in the writings of the Geonim. Here are the words of three of the most prominent Geonim:

Rav Hai Gaon [6]: "Know that divrei agadah are not like teachings from Torah she’baal Peh. Rather, each one expounded on what occurred to his own mind; [they were stated] in the manner of “it is possible that” or “one might say” – not as a clear-cut matter. Therefore, we don’t rely on them."

Rav Sherira Gaon [7]: "These statements which are expounded from pesukim and are called “midrash” and “aggadah” are theories. Some of them are true [in a literal sense] … but many of them are not … Therefore, we don’t rely on divrei aggadah. The valid ones are those which are supported by rationality and Scripture. There is no end or limit to aggados."

Rav Saadia Gaon [8]: "We don’t rely on, nor do we bring proof, from any divrei aggadah, nor do we raise objections based on divrei aggadah."

Likewise, the Rishonim invoke this principle when confronted with midrashim which undermine well-established truths. For instance:

Shmuel ha'Naggid [9]: "'Hagadah' (a.k.a. 'aggadah' or 'aggadic midrash') is any explanation from the Talmud on a non-mitzvah topic - this is hagadah, and we only learn from it that which makes sense. It is incumbent upon you to know that established by the Sages as halacha regarding any mitzvah was received by Moshe Rabbeinu who received it from the Almighty, and we should not add to it nor subtract from it. But as for all of the explanations of the Scriptural verses - each of the Sages explained according to the ideas which occurred to him and what he saw with his mind. We should only learn from these explanations that which makes sense, and the rest we should not rely upon."

Ibn Ezra [10]: "The sum of the matter is what the Geonim said about drash: we don't raise objections against it, or from it."  

Ramban [11]: "We don't bring objections based on divrei aggadah." 

Rashba [12]: "These are only divrei aggadah, and we don't bring objections based on them." 

Ritva [13]: "How could we abandon all of these statements that were stated as halacha on account of that which was stated as divrei aggadah? ... Rather, it is certain that since these are divrei aggadah, and we don't bring objections based on them." 

The approach of these Geonim and Rishonim is clear: we do not bring objections from midrashim, nor do we rely on them for proof; there is no obligation to believe midrashim, and we only learn from midrashim ideas that are adequately supported by evidence and reason.

At the same time, we mustn't go to the opposite extreme and ignore or dismiss every midrash which appears problematic to us at first glance. Rather, we should strive for the ideal stated by the Rambam [14]:

When you encounter a statement of Chazal which seems to conflict with reason, pause and consider it, and realize that this utterance must be a riddle or a parable. Sleep on it, trying anxiously to grasp its logic and its expression, so that you may find its genuine intellectual intention and lay hold of a genuine concept, as Scripture says: “To find out words of delight, and that which was written uprightly, even words of truth” (Koheles 12:10).

Last, but not least, we must heed the Rambam's [15] other piece of advice for those who wish to understand the wisdom hidden in Chazal's midrashim: 

The only thing a person can do in addition to learning and striving in his involvement in Torah, is to direct his heart to Hashem and pray before Him and request that He graciously grant him knowledge and help him by revealing for him the secrets which are concealed in the Holy Writings, as we find that David did, as it is stated, "Unveil my eyes that I may perceive wonders from Your Torah" (Tehilim 119:18).

[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah, Sanhedrin Chapter 10

[2] Ha'Rav Baruch HaLevi Epstein, Torah Temimah on Sefer Devarim 34:10. The full version of the midrash can be found in Sifrei: Devarim, Piska 357:10, and Bamidbar Rabbah 14:20. These versions of the midrash are substantially different, in that they go on to enumerate the differences between nevuas Moshe and nevuas Bilam, thereby avoiding the problem altogether. Nevertheless, I have chosen to write about the Torah Temimah's version of the midrash because (a) this was the first version I encountered, and which bothered me for years until I looked up the original sources; and (b) because I wanted to write about this methodology point, and the Torah Temimah's version of this midrash made for a good conversation starter. And while we're discussing the Torah Temimah, I should note that he offers a nice interpretation of this midrash as well. 

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Bamidbar 24:1-2

[4] Rabbeinu Yosef Albo, Sefer ha'Ikkarim 3:20

[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Ha'Vikuach

[6] Rav Hai Gaon, Otzar ha'Geonim l'Maseches Chagigah 67

[7] Rav Sherira Gaon, cited in Sefer ha’Eshkol, Hilchos Sefer Torah 60a

[8] Rav Saadia Gaon, Otzar ha’Geonim l'Maseches Chagigah, Miluim (p.65)

[9] Shmuel ha'Naggid, Mevo ha'Talmud

[10] Rabbeinu Avraham ben Ezra (ibn Ezra), Short Commentary on Sefer Shemos 2:9

[11] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Chiddushim: Maseches Yevamos 61b

[12] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderet (Rashba), Chiddushim: Maseches Megilah 15a

[13] Rabbeinu Yom Tov ben Avraham Asevilli (Ritva), Chiddushim: Maseches Shabbos 65b

[14] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah, Sanhedrin Chapter 10

[15] ibid. Introduction