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 Vaeschanan: The Place of the Proof of Torah mi'Sinai

This dvar Torah looks like it was inspired by the parashas ha'shavua, when in actuality, it was inspired by the fact that I am going over the proof of Torah mi'Sinai with a student, and have been thinking about the role that it plays, and ought to play. 

Disclaimer: Unlike most of my blog posts, in which I make every effort to explain everything so that every reader can follow every step, this post will assume that the reader is familiar with the proof of Torah mi'Sinai. If you are not familiar with the proof, then you might not be able to follow this post. I have included links to three presentations of this proof within the post. I encourage you to check them out, whether or not you read this post.

Parashas Vaeschanan: The Place of the Proof of Torah mi'Sinai

In this week's parashah Moshe Rabbeinu urges the generation that is about to enter Eretz Yisrael not to forget about what they and their ancestors witnessed at Maamad Har Sinai (the Revelation at Sinai): 

Only beware for yourself and greatly beware for your soul, lest you forget the things that your eyes have beheld and lest you remove them from your hear all the days of your life, and make them known to your children and your children's children - the day that you stood before Hashem, your God, at Horeb, when Hashem said to me, "Gather the people to Me and I shall let them hear My words, so that they shall learn to fear Me all the days that they live on the earth, and they shall teach their children." 

So you approached and stood at the foot of the mountain, and the mountain was burning with fire up to the heart of heaven, darkness, cloud, and thick cloud. Hashem spoke to you from the midst of the fire; you were hearing the sound of words, but you were not seeing a form, only a sound. He told you of His covenant that He commanded you to observe, the Ten Declarations, and He inscribed them on two stone Tablets. Hashem commanded me at that time to teach you decrees and ordinances, that you shall perform them in the Land to which you cross, to possess it ... 

For inquire now regarding the early days that preceded you, from the day when Hashem created man on the earth, and from one end of heaven to the other end of heaven: Has there ever been anything like this great thing or has anything like it been heard? Has a people ever heard the voice of God speaking from the midst of the fire as you have heard and survived? Or has any god ever miraculously come to take for himself a nation from amidst a nation, with challenges, with sings, and with wonders, and with war, and with a strong hand, and with an outstretched arm, and with greatly awesome deeds, such as everything that Hashem, your God, did for you in Egypt before your eyes? 

You have been shown in order to know that Hashem, He is the God! There is none beside Him! From heaven He caused you to hear His voice in order to teach you, and on earth He showed you His great fire, and you heard His words from the midst of the fire, because He loved your forefathers, and He chose his offspring after him, and took you out before Himself with His great strength from Egypt; to drive away before you nations that are greater and mightier than you, to bring you, to give you their land as an inheritance, as this very day. You shall know this day and take to your heart that Hashem, He is the God - in heaven above and on the earth below - there is none other. You shall observe His decrees and His commandments that I command you this day, so that He will do good to you and to your children after you, and so that you will prolong your days on the Land that Hashem, your God, gives you, for all the days.

Why did Hashem reveal Himself through such a momentous, public spectacle, and why did Moshe Rabbeinu see fit to exhort Bnei Yisrael to teach their children about the revelation? The answer is explicitly stated prior to the Torah's initial account of this event. Although Bnei Yisrael "believed in Hashem and in [the word of] Moshe, His servant" (Shemos 14:31) after Moshe took them out of Egypt, he was still concerned that they didn't fully believe in his prophecy. In response to this concern, Hashem promised Moshe that the Revelation at Sinai would remove any doubt about the legitimacy of his prophecy:

Hashem said to Moshe, "Behold! I will come to you in the thickness of the cloud, so that the people will hear as I speak to you, and they will also believe in you forever" (ibid. 19:9).

In other words, the primary purpose of Maamad Har Sinai was to establish nevuas Moshe (Mosaic prophecy) as authentic, thereby proving the Divine Authorship of the Torah. 

If this sounds like a big deal, that's because it is. The Rambam cites the "proof of Torah mi'Sinai" as the basis for our belief in nevuas Moshe, and our rejection of any other prophet. [1] The Ramban maintains that the Torah obligates us to teach this proof to our children. The Kuzari wrote at length about this topic - so much so, that this proof is often referred to as "the Kuzari principle." Contemporary authors have also written presentations of this proof. In my opinion, the best presentations are:

• Torah from Sinai
• Living Up to the Truth: Chapter 6
• A Rational Argument for the Divine Origin of Torah

Much ink has been spilled about the validity of this "proof" (or "rational demonstration," to be more accurate). Some maintain that is valid; others disagree. This discussion is beyond the scope of this blog post. 

Suffice it to say, my position is that this proof is valid, and is compelling to those who understand it. Be that as it may, I have grown increasingly doubtful as to how prominent of a role it should play in Jewish education. 

When I converted to Judaism and began my Jewish education in 11th grade, my Mishlei rebbi was of the opinion that it was essential for all students to be taught the proof of Torah mi'Sinai as the foundation of their Judaism. He taught it to my class, and I gained tremendously from it. When I started teaching, I took the same stance - both because this was the way that I had been taught, and because it seemed to me that it is impossible to have true emunah (conviction) in the Divine Authorship of Torah without it.

But over time, my Mishlei rebbi changed his tune. He argued that although the proof might be convincing on an intellectual level, it is unlikely to actually change any student's mind. Since the proof hinges on a clear categorization of how people assess secondhand knowledge, and since most people don't think in these terms (and don't rigorously analyze secondhand knowledge before accepting it), then this proof will not be real to the average student's mind, and will not affect him or her on an emotional level. 

When I first heard my rebbi express this objection, I disagreed. I dismissed his opinion as overly pessimistic, and chalked it up to the dim view of human nature that he has been trending towards over the past ten years. 

But the more experience I have had teaching this proof to students, the more I am inclined to agree with my rebbi. Although I have had some students who claim that Torah mi'Sinai changed their lives, this is definitely not the norm. Most students have never even been exposed to a philosophical proof, so the whole exercise feels artificial to them. Others have a difficult time thinking about hypothetical scenarios, which interferes with their ability to follow the proof. Many high school students are poor judges of how plausible or implausible a hypothetical scenario is, which leads them to lend undue weight to unlikely possibilities. And some students just don't have the patience to work through each step of the proof and get each step clear. 

The biggest problem with the proof is that at the end of the day, most people just aren't motivated by logical arguments. Even students who accept the proof and have no objections tend to go about their lives in the same manner as they did before they heard the proof. It simply doesn't affect them.

Being that this has been my experience, I find myself wondering: Is there a benefit in teaching the proof of Torah mi'Sinai? If so, what is that benefit?

As present, I believe that there are two benefits which make Torah mi'Sinai worth teaching, despite these difficulties. The most important reason for teaching Torah mi'Sinai to students is to show them that Judaism is fundamentally different from other religions. Whereas other religions demand blind faith, Judaism demands proof. It was not enough for Bnei Yisrael to merely have faith in Moshe's prophecy; they needed proof, and so should we. The Rashba identifies this need for proof as a hallmark of our nation:

Yisrael are the inheritors of the true religion; they are the children of Yaakov, the man of truth; they are all offspring of truth who are willing to endure the yoke of exile and that which befalls them, rather than to believe anything until after they have subjected it to intensive analysis - analysis after analysis - in order to remove all impurities from that which is said to them … Even the Jews who were enslaved with the harshest labor doubted Moshe when Moshe was commanded to bring them good news [of their imminent redemption]; in spite of this, he said, “They will not believe me,” and it was necessary for him to bring many signs [of his prophecy]. This is the true sign of our nation, the Nation of Hashem: that we do not allow ourselves to be seduced by anything until after we have arrived at its truth by way of intensive, complete analysis.

Even if students aren't moved or motivated by the proof, it is important for them to know that Judaism claims something that no other religion claims, namely, that our God spoke to our prophet in front of the entire nation, leaving no room to doubt the legitimacy of his prophecy. 

The second benefit of the proof of Torah mi'Sinai is that it takes away the excuse of "Judaism has no basis." There are many Jews who justify their turning away from Judaism by telling themselves that the whole religion is baseless. I believe that it is important to at least attempt to show these Jews that this assumption is false. Of course, not everyone will heed this point, but those who understand the proof and are intellectually honest will be forced to confront the fact that their excuse for abandoning Judaism isn't valid. Even if the proof doesn't emotionally motivate them to embrace Judaism, at least it will negate the intellectual basis of their rejection of Judaism.

That is where I stand, as of now. I suspect that my view will continue to change the more I teach and review the proof of Torah mi'Sinai. I would love to hear your thoughts on this topic!

[1] See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah Chapter 8. The secondary purpose of Maamad Har Sinai is to prevent people from being taken in by a navi sheker (false prophet), as the Torah states in Parashas Re'eh:

The entire word that I command you, that you shall observe to do; you shall not add to it and you shall not subtract from it. If there should stand up in your midst a prophet or a dreamer of a dream, and he will produce to you a sign or a wonder, and the sign or the wonder comes about of which he spoke to you, saying: "Let us follow gods of others that you did not know and we shall worship them!" - do not hearken to the words of that prophet or to that dreamer of a dream, for Hashem, your God, is testing you to know whether you love Hashem, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul. Hashem, your God, you shall follow and Him shall you fear; His commandments you shall observe and to His voice shall you hearken; Him shall you serve and to Him shall you cleave. And that prophet and that dreamer of a dream shall be put to death, for he had spoken perversion against Hashem, your God - Who takes you out of the land of Egypt, and Who redeems you from the house of slavery - to make you stray from the path on which Hashem, your God, has commanded you to go; and you shall destroy the evil from your midst (Devarim 13:2-6)

We do not believe in Moshe Rabbeinu's nevuah (prophecy) because of the miracles he did. We only believe in it because of Maamad Har Sinai. Furthermore, we only believe the nevuah of another (alleged) navi based on the criteria outlined by Moshe Rabbeinu in the Torah. Thus, if someone else comes along, performs miracles, and claims to speak words of prophecy which contradict the Torah of Moshe, then we know that this prophet is a navi sheker. 

I am including this in a footnote because it is implicit in the primary purpose of Torah, but is worthwhile to mention as a separate point nonetheless.

[2] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderes (Rasha), Shailos u'Tshuvos 1:548

The Four Levels of Belief in God

The Four Levels of Belief in God's Oneness

One of the earliest books on Jewish thought is Chovos ha'Levavos (Duties of the Heart), by Rabbeinu Bachya ben Paquda. The first of the ten sections (or "gates") of the book is entitled Shaar ha'Yichud (The Gate of Oneness). In this section the author delves into Judaism's unique concept of monotheism and offers detailed proofs from Scripture and logic to support each of his points.

Towards the beginning of this section (chapter 2) Rabbeinu Bachya presents his categorization of the four levels of belief in God's Oneness. For the sake of easy reference, I will assign titles to each level. These titles are my own, but the rest of the text is a translation of the author's words (or, more accurately, my translation based on several Hebrew translations of the author's original Arabic).

The first level represents the absolute minimum:

Level #1: Speech: The first [level of acknowledging God’s Oneness] is the declaration of God’s Oneness in speech alone. This level is attained by the child or the simple person who has no understanding of the [true] meaning of emunah, nor is its truth established in his mind. 

This barely even qualifies as "belief." The person on this level might use the term "Hashem" and say the Shema, but hasn't given any real thought to the meaning of the words he is saying. Rabbeinu Bachya doesn't even bother to explain why this is the lowest level, or what the problems with are; they are too obvious to be mentioned.

I don't know how many Jews are on this level. I would like to think that the number is small, but I'm afraid it's much larger. And if we expand our count to include all of the non-Jews who profess a belief in God, then the number skyrockets into the billions, since this is the extent of most people's belief. 

The next group definitely represents the majority of Orthodox Jews I have encountered:

Level #2: Tradition: The second level is the acknowledgment of God’s Oneness with the mind and in speech based on what one has received from tradition, because he believes the person from whom he has received it. [However,] one does not grasp [at this level] the true meaning of the subject on the strength of one’s own intellect and understanding. 

Some might view reliance on the Mesorah (authoritative tradition) as the highest level of belief. Rabbeinu Bachya begs to differ. Not only does he view it as a relatively low level, but he also maintains that there is an inherent risk in relying on tradition alone, as he goes on to explain:

He is like a blind man who is led by one who can see. It may happen that one receives [the tradition] from someone who, likewise, knows it only from tradition. That would resemble a string of blind men, each of whom has his hand on the shoulder of the one in front of him, until the file reaches a person endowed with sight, who is at their head and guides them. Should this guide of theirs fail them and neglect to watch over them carefully, or if one of them should stumble or suffer an accident, then all of them would be affected: they would all stray from the path and either fall into a pit or a ditch, or blunder into an obstacle that would prevent them from continuing. 

The same is true of one who acknowledges God’s Oneness by relying on tradition. One cannot be sure that he will not embrace shituf (i.e. belief in a god who is not truly One, but who partakes of multiplicity), for when he hears the statements and arguments of the dualists, his views might change and he might fall into error without his being aware of it. For this reason our masters have stated: “Be diligent in the study of Torah, and know what answer to give a heretic” (Avos 2:14). 

This brings us to the third level:

Level #3: Proof: The third level is the acknowledgment of God’s Oneness with the mind and in speech after one is able to support it [the doctrine] with arguments for the truth of His existence, by way of reasoned analysis. [However,] one does not have knowledge of the meaning of “the absolute One” and “the relative one.” 

This level is very subtle and falls within a precise range. It describes someone who has arrived, through rational investigation and analysis, at a conviction that God exists, but hasn't reached a correct understanding of Who God is. For example, Albert Einstein became convinced of God's Existence through his study of the universe:

Everyone who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that a spirit is manifest in the laws of the universe, a spirit vastly superior to that of man and one in the face of which we with our modest powers must feel humble ... this knowledge, this feeling ... that is the core of the true religious sentiment.

Isaac Newton likewise said:

This most beautiful system of the sun, planets, and comets, could only proceed from the counsel and dominion of an intelligent and powerful Being.

But although both men arrived at their belief in God through rational inquiry, they did not follow through with their investigation to the point where they grasped the fundamental truth of Yichud Hashem (God's Oneness) or its associated truths (i.e. God's non-physicality, His Eternality, that He is a Necessary Existence, etc.).

Rabbeinu Bachya provides an analogy to describe the limitations of this level:

A person [at this level] resembles a man, endowed with sight, who, on a journey to a distant land, reaches a point in the road where it branches off into many different directions. Although he knows the general direction and location of his city of destination, he does not know which road will take him there; despite great effort on his part, he fails to reach his destination, for he does not know the way. This is like what Scripture says: “A fool wearies himself with his efforts, for he does not know how to get to the city” (Koheles 10:15). 

Level #3 isn't unique to people like Einstein and Newton. I have seen a number of Jewish educators successfully demonstrate that Hashem exists, then stop short of explaining what we mean by "Hashem." Of course, this can definitely be the developmentally appropriate place to stop in a lesson. But one must recognize that this level of belief is incomplete. 

This brings us to the ultimate level:

Level #4: True Conviction: The fourth level is the acknowledgment of God’s Oneness with the mind and in speech after one knows how to support [the doctrine] with arguments and arrive at knowledge of His true Oneness by way of rational analysis and correct, intelligent arguments. This is the highest and most accomplished level of them all, and it is this high station which the prophet urged us to attain when he said: “Understand it today and reflect on it in your mind: Hashem is the God in the heavens above and on the earth below, there is no other” (Devarim 4:39). 

This is the level of true emunah, which is the highest level of knowledge and belief we can attain. By devoting ourselves to the study of the yesodei ha'Torah from Rabbeinu Bachya, the Rambam, the Rashba, and the other masters of the Mesorah, then we may one day reach this level, with God's help. 

Parashas Yisro: The Mitzvah of Emunah

Originally posted in January 2014. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Sacred Foundry, by Noah Bradley

Parashas Yisro: The Mitzvah of Emunah

The first of the Aseres ha’Dibros (Ten Commandments) says: “I am Hashem, your God, Who took you out from the land of Egypt, from the house of slaves, to be your God” (Shemos 20:2; Devarim 5:6). According to the Rambam [1] this pasuk is the source for the fundamental mitzvah known as "Anochi Hashem Elokecha," or just "Anochi." In this dvar Torah we will take up a very basic question: What does this mitzvah obligate us to do? 

The Rambam’s first formulation of this mitzvah can be found in his Sefer ha’Mitzvos. There he writes: “The first mitzvah is the commandment regarding belief (emunah) in the Divinity, namely, to believe (le’haamin) in the existence of the Cause and Prime Mover, Who causes all other existences.”  [2]. In the Mishneh Torah, however, the Rambam presents us with a different formulation: “The first mitzvah is to know (leyda) that God exists.” [3] On the surface, this would appear to be a contradiction: are we commanded to believe in God’s Existence or to know that He Exists? 

This apparent contradiction is fairly easy to resolve if we just take a closer look at the sources. The Rambam originally wrote the Sefer ha’Mitzvos in Arabic. In his formulation of the mitzvah the Rambam used the Arabic word "itiqad" which was subsequently translated into Hebrew by R' Moshe ibn Tibbon as "emunah." 

While this is an important first step, it is just a first step. What does the Rambam mean by emunah/itiqad? Why did he formulate the mitzvah differently in each of his books? 

Thankfully, the Rambam devotes an entire chapter of the Moreh ha’Nevuchim to defining the term emunah/itiqad. He sums up his definition as follows:

Emunah/itiqad is only possible after comprehension; it consists in the conviction that the notion apprehended by the mind has its existence outside of the mind [in reality] exactly as it is conceived in the mind. [4]

In other words, emunah refers to conviction in one’s knowledge. To “have emunah” means to have such a clear and thorough knowledge of something that it becomes real to the mind. [5] 

According to the Rambam's definition, “belief” is a rather poor and misleading English translation of the emunah which the Torah obligates us to have. Even worse is the common translation of emunah as “faith,” which is really the opposite of emunah. “Faith” refers to conviction without, or in spite of, one’s knowledge, whereas emunah refers to conviction based on one’s knowledge. It would be more accurate to translate emunah as “rational conviction.” 

The resolution to our apparent contradiction is now clear. In the Mishneh Torah, where the Rambam formulates the mitzvah as “to know,” he was referring to the maaseh ha’mitzvah (the act we are commanded to do), that is, to obtain knowledge of Hashem's Existence. But in the Sefer ha’Mitzvos, where he formulates the mitzvah as “to have emunah,” he was referring to the kiyum h'amitzvah (the objective, or fulfillment, of the mitzvah). According to the Rambam, we cannot discharge our obligation after obtaining enough knowledge to determine that Hashem exists. Rather, the mitzvah of Anochi demands that we seek knowledge until we reach the level of emunah - that is, to the point where the truth of Hashem’s Existence registers in our minds as a reality, and not merely as a theoretical construct or a pure abstraction. 

Unfortunately, this view of the mitzvah of emunah is often characterized as “the Maimonidean view” - as though it is a daas yachid (minority opinion). In truth, the Rambam’s interpretation of Anochi as demanding knowledge, as opposed to belief or faith, is held by many of the mainstream Rishonim (medieval commentators). For example, the Ramban writes: 

This first statement [of the Ten Commandments] is a positive commandment. He said Anochi Hashem, which instructs and commands them to know and become convinced that Hashem exists, that He is their God, that His Existence is eternal, that everything came from Him by [His] desire and ability, and that He is their God and they are obligated to serve Him. [6]

Similarly, the Baalei Tosafos write:

What is this statement [of Anochi Hashem]? What commandment and what prohibition does it contain? The answer is as follows: “I am Hashem, your God, and I command you to know with a clear knowledge that I am the Creator, and that I am the One Who commands all of the mitzvos, and I am trustworthy to pay back the good and the bad.” The knowledge of Hashem in which a person is obligated is to know that he is the Creator (may He be blessed and exalted). [7]

Ibn Ezra writes at length about how the mitzvah of Anochi demands that each person seek knowledge of Hashem in accordance with the level of his or her intellect. [8] Ralbag explains that Anochi is important not only because it is the foundation of Torah, but because it is the foundation of chochmah (science). [9] Sforno writes that Hashem expects us to establish our emunah with the utmost intellectual rigor, to the point where we “rationally investigate and know every argument to the contrary, then take to heart the true [arguments] therefrom.” [10] The Rashba identifies this standard of emunah as the hallmark of the Jewish people:

This is the true sign of our nation, the Nation of Hashem: that we do not allow ourselves to be taken in by any belief until after we have arrived at its truth by way of intensive, complete analysis. [11]

But what about those individuals who are not on the level to establish their emunah on the basis of rigorous knowledge and investigation? The Sefer ha'Chinuch addresses this question in his treatment of the mitzvah of Anochi. He writes:

The substance of this emunah is that a person should establish in his soul that this is the truth, and that it is impossible to modify this [truth] in any way. And if [his emunah] is questioned, he should answer every questioner that this is what his mind believes and he will never exchange this belief for anything else, even if others threaten to kill him. All of this strengthens and establishes his mind’s belief by transforming the matter from potential to actual – that is, when he affirms with the words of his mouth what he has resolved in his mind. 

And if he merits to rise in levels of wisdom so that his heart understands and his eyes see by clear-cut proof that this emunah he holds is clearly true and cannot be otherwise, then he will have fulfilled this mitzvah in the ideal way (mitzvah min ha’muvchar). [12]

According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, the minimal level of emunah required by Torah is to believe that Hashem exists, even if that belief isn't supported by knowledge and proof. However, even the Sefer ha’Chinuch maintains that the ideal fulfillment of the mitzvah is to reach the level where one’s emunah is rooted in knowledge. Rabbeinu Bachya Ibn Paquda (Introduction to Chovos ha’Levavos) concurs:

[Relying on tradition] is acceptable only in the case of uneducated women, children, and men who, because of limited perception and comprehension, cannot reason on their own. But whoever has the intellectual capacity to verify what he receives [from tradition] and yet is prevented from doing so by his own laziness, or because he takes lightly God’s commandments and Torah – he will be punished for this and held accountable for negligence. [13] 

These Rishonic definitions of emunah highlight the uniqueness of Judaism. Unlike other religions, which are based on belief and faith, Judaism demands that our relationship to Hashem be built upon a foundation of knowledge, for - as the Ibn Ezra states - "the intellect is the intermediary between man and his Creator." [14]

[1] The Rambam’s view that Anochi is one of the 613 mitzvos is shared by a number of prominent Rishonim, but is not unanimous. Other Rishonim maintain that Anochi precedes the 613 mitzvos, but is not a mitzvah in its own right.

[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Sefer ha'Mitzvos, Mitzvas Aseh #1

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah, Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah: Koseres

[4] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Moreh ha'Nevuchim 1:50

[5] An excellent example of the difference between "mere knowledge" and emunah can be found in the career of Albert Einstein. Timothy Ferris, in Coming of Age in the Milky Way (1988), records an anecdote which illustrates Einstein's emunah in the theory of general relativity (p.204, footnote): 

Einstein once astonished Ernst Straus by saying of Max Planck, the father of quantum physics, "He was one of the finest people I have ever known and one of my best friends; but, you know, he didn't really understand physics." When Straus asked what he meant, Einstein replied, "During the eclipse of 1919, Planck stayed up all night to see if it would confirm the bending of light by the gravitational field of the sun. If he had really understood the way the general relativity explains the equivalence of inertial and gravitational mass, he would have gone to bed the way I did."

[6] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 20:2

[7] Daas Zekeinim mi'Baalei ha'Tosafos, Commentary on Sefer Shemos 20:2

[8] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Shemos 20:2

[9] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 20:2

[10] Rabbeinu Ovadiah Sforno, Commentary on Sefer Devarim 4:39

[11] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderet (Rashba), Shailos u'Tshuvos 1:548

[12] Sefer ha'Chinuch, Parashas Yisro: Mitzvah #25

[13] Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda, Chovos ha'Levavos: Hakdamah

[14] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Introduction to Torah