Showing posts with label Intellect. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Intellect. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

Ralbag on the Speculative Nature of Taamei ha'Mitzvos

The Torah content for this week has been sponsored by Ellis and Janice Cohen in memory of Rabbi Moskowitz zt"l.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article, and click here for an audio version.




Ralbag on the Speculative Nature of Taamei ha'Mitzvos

Throughout his Torah commentary, Ralbag provides numerous taamei ha’mitzvos (reasons for the commandments), endeavoring to show how each mitzvah perfects our middos (character traits) and deios (knowledge of the universe). Many of these explanations are “Aristotelian” in character. Ralbag takes no measures to conceal this. He often quotes Aristotle directly or refers the reader to his works. 

What are we to make of these Aristotelian taamei ha’mitzvos explanations? Does Ralbag really believe that Hashem had these Aristotelian ideas “in mind” when He “designed” these mitzvos? How certain is Ralbag that his taamei ha’mitzvos theories are true? Thankfully, Ralbag addresses these questions in his introduction:

You should not overlook the fact that when giving causes (i.e. reasons, or as Aristotle would call them, “final causes”) in Torah matters such as these, it is impossible to provide causes which necessitate the existence of these mitzvos in an absolute manner, as it is in the deductive branches of wisdom. It is also impossible to provide the same types of causes as those given in the study of the natural world. This is not at all possible, since the nature of the subject matter of Torah does not lend itself to this degree of certainty, as Aristotle explained in the Sefer ha’Middos

Ralbag is referring to the following passage in Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics 1:3:

We must also remember what has been said before, and not look for precision in all things alike, but in each class of things such precision as accords with the subject matter, and so much as is appropriate to the inquiry. For a carpenter and a geometer investigate the right angle in different ways; the former does so insofar as the right angle is useful for his work, while the latter inquires what it is or what sort of thing it is; for he is a spectator of the truth.

In other words, it would be a methodological mistake to look for the same degree of certitude in the study of history as in math, the same level of precision in literary analysis as in physics, or the same degree of necessary conclusions in moral philosophy as in symbolic logic. Every intellectual discipline has its own methods and standards, and it would be wrong to expect one subject matter to comply with the conventions of another. Ralbag then goes on to explain why he felt compelled to include this point in his introduction:

We mentioned this so that the reader does not devalue the reasons we provided for the mitzvos of the Torah in our commentary for failing to meet the standards of other disciplines; the subject matter of those subjects lends itself to a greater degree of verification than these Torah matters and other things like them.

Ralbag was concerned that someone might read his speculative taamei ha’mitzvos and think to themselves, “How can he claim that this is the reason for this mitzvah? How does he know? Can he prove it? Can he explain why this middos/deios objective necessarily warrants this particular mitzvah-structure with these particular halachos?” Such questions stem from the methodological error of demanding that the study of taamei ha’mitzvos conform to the standards of other branches of knowledge. Such an error would be disastrous if it led the reader to make light of the taamei ha’mitzvos theories that Ralbag provides – or worse, to disregard the study of taamei ha’mitzvos altogether.

At the end of the day, how might Ralbag respond to the charge (leveled by some) that he has projected Aristotelian ideas onto Torah? I’d like to think he’d say something like this: “First, the study of taamei ha’mitzvos is not an exact science. Second, I do not regard Aristotle to be infallible. I have recorded what, to my mind, are the most compelling explanations for the taamei ha’mitzvos. Since I hold that Aristotle was right about a great many things, I have chosen to express my ideas by drawing upon his writings.” 

What would Ralbag say about alternative explanations? I suspect he would say what he, in fact, writes in his introduction to Sefer Mishlei: “And if you will find another suitable way to explain a pasuk [which differs from our explanation], this does not constitute an argument against us, for we do not proclaim that the pasuk cannot tolerate any other explanation.” 

For all his radical views, Ralbag was an intellectually humble thinker.
___________________________________________________________________________________
If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.

If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  Email me if you'd like to be added to my WhatsApp group where I share all of my content and public shiur info. 

Friday, August 13, 2021

Shoftim: The Parameters of Idolatrous Cultural Appropriation

This week's Torah content has been sponsored by Joey and Estee Lichter in honor of the marriage of Isaac and Aviva.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article, and click here for an audio version.



Shoftim: The Parameters of Idolatrous Cultural Appropriation

It is prohibited to plant a tree anywhere in the courtyard area on the Temple Mount: “You shall not plant an asheirah of any tree beside the altar of Hashem, your God, which you shall make for yourself” (Devarim 16:21). The Rambam (Sefer ha’Mitzvos: Lo Taaseh #13) explains the reason for this prohibition:

We are prohibited from planting trees in the Mikdash (Temple) or near the altar for decoration or beauty, even if our intention in this is for the service of Hashem, since the idolaters also honored their idolatry by planting beautiful trees which are pleasing to behold in their houses of worship.

The Rambam (Moreh ha’Nevuchim 3:32) infamously held that korbanos (sacrifices) are a concession to human nature. Hashem would have “preferred” that Judaism have no korbanos whatsoever. The problem is that korbanos were the universal form of worship among idolaters at the time the Torah was given.

Therefore, His wisdom and plan – as is displayed throughout the entirety of creation – did not require the discontinuation, abandonment, and abolition of all these forms of service, because this would have been contrary to the nature of man, who clings to what he is accustomed … It is for this reason that Hashem allowed these kinds of service to continue. He transferred to His service that which had formerly served as a worship of created beings, and of things imaginary and unreal, and commanded us to serve Him in this same manner.

On the surface, the Rambam’s explanation of the prohibition to plant trees on the Temple Mount is undermined by his theory of korbanos. How can the Rambam say that we are prohibited from planting trees in the Temple courtyard because this was a custom of the idolaters, and at the same time, maintain that the entire sacrificial service is modeled after idolatrous modes of worship? Does the Torah endorse or oppose cultural appropriation of idolatrous practices? On what basis does the Torah draw this line?

I believe the answer is that only Hashem knows how to draw that line. Only the Creator of man can determine which forms of idolatrous cultural appropriation are so dangerous that they will lead people down the path of destruction and which forms are either worth the risk or are better than the alternatives.

The Rambam begins Hilchos Avodah Zarah with an account of how idolatry started:

In the days of Enosh, the people made a tremendous error, and the counsel of the wise men of the generation became foolish, and Enosh himself was among those who erred. This was their mistake: they said, “Since God created these planets and these galaxies to control the universe and placed them on high and gave them honor, and they are the servants who minister before Him, it is befitting to praise them and to glorify them and to give them honor. And this is the will of God, blessed is He – to exalt and to honor the ones whom He exalts and honors, just as it is the king’s desire to honor his ministers and those who stand before him, and this honors the king.” Once this notion arose in their hearts, they began to build temples for the planets, and to offer sacrifices to them, and to praise them and to glorify them with words, and to bow down to them, in order to satisfy the will of the Creator, according to their evil minds.

The concept proposed by Enosh and his generation was not irrational. It is true that showing honor to a king’s ministers is a way of showing honor to the king. Rather, their mistake was their arrogant assumption that they could ascertain how best to worship Hashem using their own minds. They couldn’t foresee the disastrous consequences of the practice they introduced. Planting a tree to beautify the Mikdash might seem like a good idea, but our minds are too limited to make that determination. Only Hashem knows which forms of worship are beneficial and detrimental to man, and we must defer to His judgment.
________________________________________________________________________________
If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you

If you would like to sponsor an article, shiur, or podcast episode, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone. 

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  For the full guide to all of my Torah content, click here

Thursday, July 22, 2021

Musings on the Inadequacy of Internet Research

This week's Torah content is sponsored by a generous donor who wishes to remain anonymous, and told me, "No thanks needed!" so I'm not going to thank them.

Click here for a one-page printer-friendly version of this article, and click here for an audio version.

Artwork: Mind's Desire, by Minttu Hynninen



Musings on the Inadequacy of Internet Research

A student of mine told me he heard that the Sanskrit greeting “namaste” means “the god in me sees the god in you.” He wondered whether it would be problematic to use this phrase. I did some “Google research” on the translation and encountered a variety of opinions, ranging from the neutral “hello,” “salutations,” and “greetings to you” to the more colorful “my soul recognizes your soul,” “I honor the place in you where the entire universe dwells,” and “I bow to the place in you that is love, light, and joy.”

I remembered that I’m Facebook friends with Rabbi Dr. Alan Brill, scholar of religion and author of A Rabbi on the Ganges: A Jewish-Hindu Encounter. I figured he’d know what “namaste” meant and could weigh in on my student’s question. Here is his response, with my translations and additions added in parentheses:

Namah, the root of namaste, means “I bow to you,” basically meaning, "salutation." All of Asia bows to the other person as a greeting. It is halakhically like “adios” ("God be with you") or “goodbye” (“God be with you”). We pasken (rule) that you can say goodbye and adios. The Nesivos (Rabbi Yaakov Lorberbaum, 1760-1832 C.E.) makes it assur (prohibited) but our poskim (adjudicators), allow you to say “goodbye.” If you Google namaste you will find lots of derashot (homiletics) from Indian religions but they go beyond the peshat (literal meaning).

His response reminded me of how easy it is for concepts from different religions and cultures to get lost in translation [1], and how difficult it is for laypeople to conduct research on the internet. This, in turn, made me realize how difficult it is even for Jews to understand our own religion, and how easy it is for our own concepts to get lost in translation. This is certainly true for the layperson who, upon Googling any question about Judaism, will be confronted with a multiplicity of true and false opinions, and who will have no reliable means by which to independently assess or weigh the results. Sadly, this is also true of those who regard themselves as “intellectuals” but who are just as incapable of conducting responsible research, whether due to the lack of adequate training, or to the distorting influence of their personal biases intermingled with ideas and values from other cultures, or to intellectual hubris, dishonest, and laziness.

And yet, what can we expect people to do? Admit that they aren’t sufficiently qualified? Devote years of learning and training to becoming qualified? Forego the instant gratification of a Google search to engage in serious dialogue with experts? This problem isn’t new. Rambam (Moreh ha’Nevuchim 1:34) described the same phenomenon 800 years ago:

Now if you awaken a man, even though he were the dullest of all people … and if you were to ask him whether he desired at that moment to have knowledge of [the secrets of reality] … he would undoubtedly answer you in the affirmative … but he would wish this desire to be satisfied and the knowledge of all this to be achieved by means of one or two words that you would say to him. If, however, you would lay upon him the obligation to leave his job for a week in order to understand all this, he would not do it, but would be satisfied with deceptive imaginings through which his soul would be set at ease. He would also dislike being told that there is a thing whose knowledge requires many premises and a long time for investigation.

What alarmed me most about my “research” into namaste was how readily I fell into this trap. I would never content myself with such superficial research on a Jewish topic – and yet, with a non-Jewish topic, I was content with a simple search. Google might be trustworthy when it comes to checking simple facts, but true understanding is a different matter. Where does this leave us? How are we to go about researching questions of this nature? I honestly don’t know. We have limited time, and much to learn.

[1] Wolves. Ve’ha’mevin yavin.
___________________________________________________________________________________
If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you

If you would like to sponsor an article, shiur, or podcast episode, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone. 

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  For the full guide to all of my Torah content, click here

Thursday, May 28, 2020

Shavuos 5780: Torah and the Limits of Human Intellect

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

Artwork: Mind Unbound, by Jason Felix


Shavuos 5780: Torah and the Limits of the Human Intellect 

The Mysterious Case of the Incomprehensible Haftarah 

The haftarah for Shavuos morning is the infamous first chapter of Sefer Yechezkel. Known as Maaseh Merkavah (the Work of the Chariot), this nevuah (prophecy) is considered to be one of the deepest and most cryptic passages in all of Tanach. Its meaning is so abstruse that there are halachos governing how and to whom it is expounded, as the mishnah in Chagigah 2:1 states: “One may not expound … on Maaseh Merkavah in the presence of [even] one [student], unless he is wise and intuitively understands with his own mind.” 

To appreciate just how incomprehensible this haftarah is, here is an excerpt: 

I looked and saw a stormy wind coming from the north, a great cloud and flashing fire, surrounded by a radiance and within it was something that looked like chashmal within the fire. Within it there were four creature-like shapes. This was how they looked: they had the shape of a human. Each had four faces, and each had four wings. Their feet were straight feet, and the bottoms of their feet were like the bottom of a calf’s hoof, sparkling like burnished bronze. [They had] human hands beneath their wings on their four sides, and the four had faces and wings; their wings were intertwined. They did not turn when they moved; each [could] move in the direction of [any of] its faces. Their faces were shaped like a man’s, with a lion’s face on the right of each of the four of them, an ox’s face on the left of the four of them, and the four of them had an eagle’s face. Their faces and wings were separated above; each had two [wings] linked to one another and two covering their bodies. Each moved in the direction of its faces. They went wherever the spirit drove them, and they did not turn as they moved. (Yechezkel 1:4-12)

Every Shavuos morning, upon the conclusion of this haftarah, someone inevitably makes a joke to the effect of, “Did you get all that?” or “Simple!” or “Crystal clear!” 

This raises a question that I have every Shavuos: If virtually nobody can understand this nevuah, and if even those who can understand it are forbidden to explain it, then why do we read it in public as the haftarah of Shavuos? And I don’t mean to ask: “What is the source?” or “What is the halachic rationale behind the selection of this haftarah?” I mean: “What is the point of reading something that is both intellectually and halachically inexplicable?” 

The Other Merkavah 

A couple centuries prior to Yechezkel’s nevuah, Yeshayahu ha’Navi also had a nevuah which is referred to as “the Merkavah.” Here it is in its entirety: 

In the year of King Uzziah’s death, I saw the Lord sitting upon a high and lofty throne, and its legs filled the Temple. Seraphim were standing above, at His service. Each one had six wings: with two it would cover its face, with two it would cover its legs, and with two it would fly. And one would call to another and say, “Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh [1] is Hashem, Master of Legions; the whole world is filled with His glory.” The doorposts moved many cubits at the sound of the calling, and the Temple became filled with smoke. (Yeshayahu 6:1-4) 

Yechezkel’s vision of the Merkavah is described in great detail over the course of 28 pesukim whereas Yeshayahu’s description is only four pesukim long. Nevertheless, Chazal maintained that Yeshayahu’s nevuah was the greater of the two, as the Gemara in Chagigah 13b states: 

Rava said: Everything that Yechezkel saw was seen by Yeshayah. To what can Yechezkel be compared? To a villager who saw the king [and for whom such a sighting was rare]. And to what can Yeshayah be compared? To a city-dweller who saw the king [and who was accustomed to seeing the king on a more frequent basis]. 

Rashi [2] explains: “a city-dweller who [frequently] sees the king isn’t bewildered and isn’t amazed, and [therefore] doesn’t care to report [what he saw in great detail].” The Radak [3] goes further, explaining the metaphor’s implications about the relative levels of these two neviim

In other words, Yechezkel reported the details of these phenomena because it was extremely novel to him … but Yeshayah only described them in general terms, since he was more perfected than Yechezkel and this vision wasn’t as novel to him. 

And yet, despite being the more profound of the two prophetic visions, Yeshayahu’s Merkavah is even more familiar to the average Jew than Yechezkel’s. Why? Because an embellished version of it was incorporated into the daily davening in the berachos of Krias Shema

[The angels] all accept upon themselves the yoke of heavenly kingship from one another, and grant permission to one another to sanctify the One Who formed them, with tranquility, with clear articulation, and with sweetness. All of them as one proclaim His kedushah and say with awe: “Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh is Hashem, Master of Legions, the whole world is filled with His glory!” (Yeshayahu 6:3). Then the Ofanim [4] and the Chayos ha’Kodesh with great noise raise themselves towards the Seraphim; facing them, they give praise, saying: “Blessed is the glory of Hashem from his place” (Yechezkel 3:12). 

Our question about the haftarah of Shavuos is even stronger if asked about this part of davening: Why did the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah (The Men of the Great Assembly) select one of the most recondite prophetic visions and make it a centerpiece of our daily davening? What did they expect us to understand? What Jew comprehends the distinction between Ofanim, Chayos ha’Kodesh, and Seraphim? Who understands what it means for angels to “accept upon themselves the yoke of heavenly kingship from one another” or “grant permission to one another to sanctify”? Who can explain what it means for angels “to praise” or even “to know”? 

I’m not the only one who is bothered by the inclusion of such incomprehensible statements in our davening. Ibn Ezra [5] excoriates ha’Kalir [6] and other paytanim (liturgical poets) for incorporating enigmatic statements, allegories, and sodos (deep ideas) into the prayer service. Ibn Ezra maintains that the language of tefilah should be straightforward. He writes: 

Why don’t we learn from Shlomo [ha’Melech], who was not surpassed by anyone wiser, and yet, his tefilah that he davened is readily coherent; anyone who knows Hebrew can understand it, and it contains no enigmas or metaphors. The same is true of the tefilah of Daniel, [despite the fact that he] was a “solver of riddles” (5:12). They only davened with clear statements, and they were wise men – all the more so regarding the masses of men who daven and are not wise! [7] … 

[Furthermore,] all of [ha’Kalir’s] liturgical poems are filled with aggados and midrashim [which are allegorical and contain statements that are not meant to be taken at face-value], but the Sages said: “no verse departs from its straightforward meaning.” If so, then it is not proper to daven with anything other than pshat (a straightforward meaning), [and it is not proper to daven] with something that contains a sode, or an allegory … 

Granted, Ibn Ezra’s criticisms were only directed at those paytanim who introduced their own compositions into the liturgy. He certainly wouldn’t object to the tefilos and berachos composed by the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah. Yet, in light of his objections to the paytanim for their use of esoteric material, one wonders why one of the most esoteric prophetic visions was made into the centerpiece of the berachos of Krias Shema for every Jew to say. What are we supposed to get out of this? 

An Answer to Our Second Question … 

I recall an answer to this last question that was given by my Rosh Yeshiva. [8] He said that the Anshei Kneses ha’Gedolah incorporated this description of the angelic host praising Hashem in order to remind us that the human intellect is not supreme

The Torah maintains that mankind is the greatest species on earth – the only creature with a tzelem Elokim (truth-seeking intellect capable of grasping abstract concepts). Yet, man’s mind is qualitatively inferior to that of the angels, as David ha’Melech states: “You have made [frail man] but slightly less than the angels, crowning him with soul and splendor” (Tehilim 8:6). 

Even Moshe Rabbeinu, the greatest human being who ever existed, was unable to obtain positive knowledge of Hashem, due to the limitations imposed by his physicality, as it is stated: “[Hashem] said, ‘You will not be able to see My face, for no human can see Me and live’” (Shemos 33:20). In contrast, the Rambam [9] writes about the angels: 

All of these immaterial forms (i.e. angels) are alive and comprehend the Creator, and know Him with a great and exceeding knowledge. And each and every immaterial form [knows the Creator] in accordance with its level, but not in accordance with His [true] greatness. Even the highest level [of angel] is unable to completely grasp the reality of the Creator as it really is, due to its deficient mind. 

But it comprehends and knows more than that which is grasped by the immaterial form beneath it; and likewise for each and every level, until the 10th level. And the 10th level also knows the Creator with a knowledge that human beings - who are comprised of a material body and an immaterial form - are not able to comprehend and know like it. But none [of these beings] knows the Creator as He knows Himself. 

In other words, there is a hierarchy of knowledge: animal intelligence is incapable of grasping abstract concepts; human intelligence can grasp abstract concepts, but cannot obtain positive knowledge of that which is purely immaterial; angelic intelligence can grasp that which is purely immaterial, but not fully; only the Creator truly knows Himself. 

Why is concept relevant to mention in the berachos of Krias Shema? I don’t remember what my Rosh Yeshiva said on this particular point, but I would say as follows. Krias Shema is referred to by Chazal as kabbalas ole malchus shamayim (lit. “acceptance of the yoke of heavenly kingship”), which is an acknowledgment of Hashem’s Oneness. [10] This may be the highest level knowledge we can have of the Creator, but we must not fall into the trap of thinking that it is the highest level of knowledge. By prefacing our kabbalas ole malchus shamayim with an acknowledgment of the kabbalas ole malchus shamayim of the angels, who “all accept upon themselves the yoke of heavenly kingship from one another,” we remind ourselves that as humans, our knowledge is imperfect, and we can’t even grasp what it means for the angels to have knowledge of Hashem and praise Him. 

… Which Answers Our First Question 

I believe that my Rosh Yeshiva’s answer to our second question also answers our first question. What is the point [11] of reading the Maaseh Merkavah, which almost nobody can understand, as the haftarah on Shavuos? To remind us that as much Torah we think we understand, a complete grasp of Torah is entirely beyond us. 

I wrote about this at length in my article, The Limits of Our Understanding of Torah, in which I cited the second paragraph of the Ralbag’s Introduction to Torah [12]

It is vital not to lose sight of the fact that it is impossible for us to completely apprehend the chochmah (wisdom) and chaninah (beneficence) which is manifest in the Torah’s existence. Rather, we have very little knowledge of this, and we are exceedingly ignorant – just as we have very little knowledge of the wisdom and beneficence which is manifest in the nature of all existing things; we apprehend very little of the chochmah in their design, as is evident to those anyone who has intensively studied the natural sciences, and who recognizes the gap between our theoretical models of the laws of the universe and their reality … It therefore follows from the fact that the Torah is divine – namely, that it is from Hashem, as is known to all people today – [that its nature will also be incompletely understood], even though it is the absolute truth. 

There is only one human being who completely understood Torah: Moshe Rabbeinu. And even his understanding was restricted by the limitations of his physicality, which prevented him from having positive knowledge Hashem. 

Shavuos is Zman Matan Toraseinu, a celebration of the giving of the Torah. [13] If we were to mistakenly think that our intellect is supreme, and that a full comprehension of the Torah is within our grasp – even theoretically, if not practically – then our view of Torah would be fundamentally flawed. Hashem set up boundaries around Har Sinai, “lest [the people] break through to Hashem to see, and a multitude will fall” (Shemos 19:21). At the event of Matan Torah there was a danger that Bnei Yisrael would overestimate their own abilities, push themselves beyond their limitations, and be irreparably harmed. The same is true in our own acceptance of Torah on a daily basis. 

On the celebration of Matan Torah we remind ourselves of our limited ability to grasp Torah by reading a passage of Torah which nobody but the most delusional and haughty individual could possibly think he or she fully understands. This reminder keeps our ego and our self-knowledge in check, which in turns, helps make us worthy to accept the Torah. 

So next time you hear Maaseh Merkavah being read in shul on Shavuos, and you find that you don't understand a single thing, remind yourself that that is precisely the point.



[1] The word “kadosh” is typically translated as “holy,” which is an anathema to me. Seeing as how ק.ד.ש. means “separate” and in relation to Hashem it means “separate from physicality,” I prefer to translate “kadosh” as “transcendent” – but if I translated “kadosh, kadosh, kadosh” as “transcendent, transcendent, transcendent,” then I’d get weird looks from people in shul.
[2] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Chagiga 13b
[3] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Yeshayahu 6:1
[4] “Ofanim,” “Chayos ha’Kodesh,” and “Seraphim” are types of angels. See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha’Torah 2:7 for a comprehensive list and ranking.
[5] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Koheles 5:1
[6] From Wikipedia: “Eleazar ben Kalir, also known as Eleazar HaKalir, Eleazar ben Killir or Eleazar Kalir (c. 570 – c. 640) was a Byzantine Jew and a Hebrew poet whose classical liturgical verses, known as piyut, have continued to be sung through the centuries during significant religious services.”
[7] I expect someone to object to my reading of the Ibn Ezra on the grounds that he’s referring specifically to using metaphors like referring to Hashem as a lion (based on Hoshea 11:10) or fire (based on Devarim 4:24). Yes, one can argue that his critique is limited to a specific kind of metaphor-usage. Nevertheless, one can also argue that this objection stems from the sort of nitpicking which misses the main point. That’s my argument.
[8] Regrettably, I do not recall where, when, or in what context I heard this explanation. I hope I am conveying it accurately, but it is entirely possible that I am not. Take it with a grain of salt.
[9] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha’Torah
[10] See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Sefer ha’Mitzvos: Mitzvas Aseh #2. Incidentally, if anyone tries to claim that kabbalas ole malchus shamayim refers to the acceptance of mitzvos, this line from tefilah is a good disproof. The angels most definitely know God’s Oneness, but they do not “accept” His mitzvos.
[11 Again I will remind you that I am NOT answering the question, “What is the halachic rationale for this reading?” I am answering the practical question, “What are we supposed to get out of it?”
[12]Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershon (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis: Introduction to Torah
[13] Among other things. See my article Shavuos is NOT About Matan Torah for other views.

Thursday, August 1, 2019

My Stubborn and Unpopular Educational Belief

This can be regarded as a follow-up to my educational philosophy statement. It’s the text of an email I recently sent to one of my former students in response to a question she asked about my educational philosophy. Consequently, there is some overlap with what I explicitly stated in my educational philosophy statement, but the main thing I wanted to do here was to articulate one of the premises of my educational philosophy. 

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



My Stubborn and Unpopular Educational Belief

My stubborn and unpopular belief is that every student loves learning. Many of them either don't know it yet, or they've had the love of learning nearly snuffed out by their educational experiences.

The basis of my belief is my premise that every human being is created b'tzelem Elokim. According to my understanding, this means that every human being has the capacity for conceptual understanding and abstract thinking, as well as an innate drive to seek out knowledge of truth for its own sake. 

It is this fundamental belief about human nature which impels me, as a teacher of Torah, to treat every student with respect as a fellow truth-seeking mind, and to treat every question as a potential catalyst of tzelem Elokim development. Although I do care about teaching specific ideas with clarity, and hope that students remember what they learn in my classes, this isn't my main goal. My main goal is to awaken the latent tzelem Elokim in my students, and to equip them with the tools - in the realm of chochmah (intellect) and mussar (middos) - to live as a tzelem Elokim, the ultimate level of which is making good bechirah (free will) decisions on the basis of their tzelem Elokim, reaching ahavas Hashem (love of God) and yiras Hashem (fear of God) and learning lishmah (for its own sake). If a student walked away from my class with an enhanced love of learning, but without remembering a single idea I taught her, then I would still be happy and consider my job well done.

I referred to this belief of mine as "unpopular" because I do not think that this belief is shared by all teachers. Some profess it in speech, but don't believe it in their minds or in their hearts. Others don't even profess it. For example, there are teachers who believe that kids need to be instilled by their parents and teachers with a desire to learn, and that this desire is not natural. Others maintain that students need to be bribed - with praise, with grades, and with other "carrots" - or threatened with punishment in order to "get them to want to learn." Others take a religious angle, attempting to instill their students with a drive to learn as an act of avodas Hashem (divine service). Others believe that some kids do have a natural desire to learn, whereas others just "aren't cut out for learning." These teachers are usually quick to give up on those whom they perceive to be in the latter category.

I maintain that all of these teachers are wrong. I walk into my classroom - whether it's filled with old students or new students - with the assumption that EVERY student has an innate love of learning, an innate enjoyment of thinking, and an innate sense of curiosity. In many cases, these innate potentials are latent, or suppressed, or even crippled by years of educational abuse - but they're there. My job is to awaken the potential thinker in all students, to the extent that I can, and nurture them with good ideas, good thinking, and good, enjoyable learning. I refer to this belief of mine as "stubborn" because I am so convinced it is true that I will be willing to continue operating on this premise even when all evidence points to the fact that a given student is not interested in learning. 

This reminds me of a conversation I had a few years ago with someone I went to high school with, who is currently a rebbi at [insert name of well-known school]. He and I were talking about my educational approach, which he was familiar with from our teachers at [insert name of my high school alma mater]. I will never forget what he told me. He said, "Your whole approach of getting kids into learning by answering their questions and teaching them to think ... maybe that used to work, but it's an outdated approach. Kids these days aren't interested in thinking. They want a kesher (personal connection) with their rebbi. That's the best way to reach them. Not by answering questions." 

I couldn't believe how diametrically opposed our approaches were. This is a rebbi who uses methods like having kumzitzes (singing sessions) during shiur (Torah class)baking cookies for his talmidim (students), putting his arm on their shoulder, artificially attempting to rev up enthusiasm with phrases like, "Isn't this Toisfis geshmack?" and "We're going to learn some heilga TOIRAH!" Those methods in and of themselves aren't inherently problematic, but when "that outdated method" of thinking-based Torah is replaced with such devices, then that is worse than misguided; it's evil

I will not deny that this approach "works" for some kids. I say "works" (in quotation marks) because I maintain that this type of approach cannot serve as a foundation that's made to last. Like any emotionally-fueled approach, it will only "work" while the emotional mood is active and kept at a heightened level, and the nature of all emotional moods is that they cannot remain at a constant state forever. Someone who subscribes to such an approach will ride the high until it starts to wear off, and will then desperately try to chase after another high to keep his religiosity going. At "best," he'll spend his life repeatedly chasing such highs, like a drug addict. At worst, the high will wear off, and he'll drop his religiosity, or rebel against it. 

My approach is made to last because it is based on the higher part of our human nature as tzelem Elokim. Moreover, for those students of mine who are inducted into the world of Mishlei and Koheles, my approach is also based on the lower part of our human nature as pleasure-seeking pain-avoiding animals. By showing that Torah has a rational basis which satisfies the intellect, while simultaneously providing a way of life which results in maximum pleasure and minimum pain, I am appealing to the entire human being which, as Aristotle defined, is a "rational animal." Even if a student discontinues learning after high school, the part of the student which I awakened is their essence. I did not merely put them into a certain mood by singing a zemer or making them feel a kesher with their rebbi. I activated their humanity

I should mention that I am not trying to dismiss or downplay those whose attachment to Torah and Judaism is purely or largely emotional. That's a good thing, just as any she'lo lishmah is a good thing - at least, in potential. But I am intentionally objecting to Torah educators who believe that such an approach is an ideal, and that the "radical" approach of "appealing to the mind" is an "outdated" method. They are wrong, and their wrongness does harm.

And so I will continue to teach in accordance with my stubborn and unpopular belief, and let the results speak for themselves.  

Friday, June 7, 2019

Shavuos 5779 / Bamidbar: Mishkan and Sinai

As you will soon see, this post did NOT come together in the end as I had hoped. I debated whether to share it publicly at all and decided that I might as well post it, in hopes that it might one day lead to the next step in the inquiry. I hope you find some value in it.  

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

Artwork: Mountain (M10), by Nils Hamm



Shavuos 5779 / Bamidbar: Mishkan and Sinai

Ramban's Theory

In his introduction to Sefer Bamidbar the Ramban presents a theory about the relationship between the Mishkan (Tabernacle) and Har Sinai (Mt. Sinai). Here is the first paragraph of the Ramban's introduction, with my own paragraph breaks for clarity:
After explaining the system of korbanos (sacrifices) in the third book (i.e. Sefer Vayikra), He now begins, in this book, to arrange the mitzvos that were commanded in the matter of the Tent of Meeting. He has already warned for all generations against defiling the Mikdash (Sanctuary) and its sanctified objects, and now: 
He set boundaries around the Mishkan while it is in the Wilderness just as He set boundaries around Har Sinai when the kavod Hashem (Glory of Hashem) was there. 
He commanded [regarding the Mishkan]: "and any stranger who approaches shall die" (Bamidbar 3:38) just as He said there [regarding Sinai]: "[a hand shall not touch it] for he shall surely be stoned" (Shemos 19:13)
He commanded [regarding the Mishkan]: "but they shall not come and look as the holy is inserted, lest they die" (Bamidbar 4:20) just as He warned there [regarding Sinai]: "lest they break through to Hashem to see, and a multitude of them will fall" (Shemos 19:21)
He commanded [regarding the Mishkan]: "You shall safeguard the charge of the holy and the charge of the altar" (Bamidbar 19:21) just as He said [regarding Sinai]: "even the Kohanim who approach Hashem should be prepared ... but the Kohanim and the people - they shall not break through [to ascend]" (Shemos 19:22-24)
Behold, He commanded further how the safeguarding of the Mishkan and its vessels shall be and how they shall encamp around [the Mishkan] and [how] "the people shall stand from afar" (cf. Shemos 20:18) and how "the Kohanim who approach Hashem" (cf. Shemos 19:22) shall conduct themselves when [the Mishkan] is at rest and being transported, and what they shall do for its safeguarding. All of this is a distinction and an honor for the Mishkan, as [Chazal] said: "a king's palace that has guards is incomparable to a palace without guards" (Sifrei Zuta, Korach 18:4).
The Ramban also introduces Sefer Vayikra with a summary of this theory:
This book is the law for the Kohanim and the Leviim. In it He clarifies the matters regarding all the sacrifices and the safeguarding of the Mishkan, for as the other book (i.e. Sefer Shemos) was concerning the [Egyptian] exile and the redemption from it and He completed it with the matter of the Tent of Meeting and the kavod Hashem that filled the Mishkan, [now] He commanded regarding the korbanos and the safeguarding of the Mishkan, so that the sacrifices should be an atonement for them so that their sins should not cause the departure of the shechinah. And He commanded regarding "the Kohanim who approach Hashem," that "they should be sanctified" (cf. Shemos 19:22) for He warned [them] against the defiling of the Mikdash and its sacrificial foods. And also that they should "not break through to ascend to Hashem" (cf. Shemos 19:24) as He said: "Speak to Aharon, your brother - [he shall not come at all times into the Sanctuary, within the Curtain, in front of the Cover that is upon the Ark, so that he should not die]" (Vayikra 16:2), which is comparable to the warning given [at Sinai]: "lest they break through to Hashem to see, and a multitude of them will fall" (Shemos 19:21). And He set boundaries around the Mishkan like the boundaries set for Har Sinai at the time that the kavod of the God of Israel was there.
The Ramban's theory is clear: the setup of the Mishkan (and the surrounding Camp) is designed to reflect and recall the setup of Har Sinai. Both the Mishkan and Sinai have boundaries. Breaching the boundaries results in death. In both scenarios the people are warned not to look at holy phenomena. The need for safeguarding applied to both the Mishkan and Sinai. The spacing in the Camp of the Kohanim and the Israelites parallels their spacing during the event at Sinai.

But there's more to the Ramban's theory than that. The crux of his theory was stated much earlier, in his introduction to Parashas Terumah (Shemos 25:1), where he explains the purpose of the Mishkan. He writes:
When Hashem spoke with Israel "face to face" (Devarim 5:4) [telling them] the Decalogue and commanding them through Moshe in some mitzvos as universal categories for the [rest of] the Torah's mitzvos - just as our Sages of blessed memory enacted as a practice with converts who seek to become Jewish - and Israel accepted upon themselves to do whatever He would command them through Moshe Rabbeinu, peace be upon him, He [consequently] made a covenant with them regarding all this. Now they had become a people unto Him and He had become their God, as He stipulated with them at first: "and now, if you hearken well to Me and you will observe My covenant, you shall be to Me the most beloved treasure of all peoples, for Mine is the entire world" (Shemos 19:5) and He said: "You shall be to Me a kingdom of kohanim and a holy nation" (ibid. 19:6). Thus, they were holy and worthy for there to be a Mikdash in their midst, [a place for Hashem] to rest His shechinah (indwelling) among them. Therefore, He first commanded regarding the matter of the Mishkan, so that He would have an abode among them sanctified to His Name, and there He would speak with Moshe and command Bnei Yisrael.
Behold! The main objective of the Mishkan is as a place for the resting of the shechinah, which was [atop] the Ark, as He said: "it is there that I will meet with you, and I shall speak with you from atop the cover [... on the Ark]" (ibid. 25:22) ... 
The esoteric significance of the Mishkan is that the kavod that rested upon Har Sinai [when the Torah was given] should rest upon [the Mishkan] in a concealed manner. And just as it was stated there [regarding Sinai:] "the kavod Hashem rested upon Har Sinai" (ibid. 24:16) and it is written: "Behold! Hashem, our God, has shown us His kavod and His greatness" (Devarim 5:21), and He mentioned twice regarding the Mishkan: "the kavod of Hashem filled the Mishkan" (ibid. and in 25:35), parallel to "His kavod" and "His greatness" [mentioned at Sinai]. And the kavod that was seen at Sinai remained constantly with Israel in the Mishkan, and whenever Moshe entered [the Mishkan] he would receive the same [type of] communication that was spoken to him at Sinai
And just as it was said regarding the Giving of the Torah: "from heaven He caused you to hear His voice in order to teach you, and on earth He showed you His great fire" (Devarim 4:36), so too regarding the Mishkan it is written: "he heard the voice speaking to him from atop the cover [that was upon the Ark of the Testimony] from between the two Keruvim (Cherubim), and He spoke to him" (Bamidbar 7:89). The words "and He spoke to him" are repeated [at the end of that pasuk] in order to convey what [the Sages] said by way of tradition that the voice would come from heaven to above the Ark-cover and speak to Moshe from there. For every communication with Moshe originated in heaven during the day and was heard from between the Keruvim in a manner similar to [the Giving of the Torah, of which it is written:] "and you heard His words from the midst of the fire" (Devarim 4:36). This is why [the Keruvim] were both made of gold. Likewise, Scripture stated: "[at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, before Hashem,] where I shall meet with you to speak to you there ... and it will be sanctified with My glory" (Shemos 29:42-43) for that was to be the meeting place for communication, and it would be "sanctified with My glory."
There are many subtle points being made here, but the main idea is clear: the purpose of the Mishkan is to house the Ark, which is a resting place for the kavod - or shechinah - that descended upon Sinai; this kavod is also the place from where Hashem would speak to Moshe in the Wilderness, as it spoke to Bnei Yisrael at Sinai.

That, in a nutshell, is the Ramban's theory. Now we need to understand it.

[My Failure in] Understanding the Meaning of the Ramban's Theory

The Ramban's theory is adequately supported by the pshat (straightforward reading) of the pesukim he cited. The question is: What does he mean? What is his understanding of the kavod Hashem that descended on Sinai and filled the Mishkan? What is the relationship between the singular Divine communication at Sinai and the day-to-day communication with Moshe at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting during the 40 years in the Wilderness? What is the purpose of this parallel setup of Sinai and the Mishkan in the Camp?

When I set out to an answer to this question, I figured that the best way to find answers would be to look up the Ramban's commentary on the pesukim he cited. Much to my dismay, the vast majority of these pesukim contain scant commentary from the Ramban. The few pesukim on which he elaborated only added to my confusion. For example, on the pasuk: "The cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and kavod Hashem filled the Mishkan" (Shemos 40:34) the Ramban explains:
"the kavod Hashem filled the Mishkan" - because the inside of it was filled with the kavod, because the kavod dwelled inside the cloud which was inside the Mishkan, as it was stated in regards to Har Sinai: "[Moshe approached] the thick cloud, where God was" (Shemos 20:18).
Similarly, when I looked up the Ramban's comments on the first pasuk of Sefer Vayikra in hopes that he'd clarify how Hashem spoke to Moshe from the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, this is what I found:
The pasuk here says: "He called to Moshe and Hashem spoke to him" but doesn't say this in other places, because [here] "Moshe was not able to enter the Tent of Meeting" (cf. Shemos 40:35) to approach the place "where God was" (cf. Shemos 20:18) except by means of a summons that [Hashem] called out to him, for it had already been said to Moshe: "[It is there that I will meet with you,] and I shall speak with you from atop the Cover, from between the two Keruvim [that are on the Ark]" (ibid. 25:22) "where I will meet with you" (ibid. 30:6). And since he knew that God is "enthroned upon the Keruvim" (cf. I Divrei ha'Yamim 13:6), he was fearful of entering the Tent of Meeting at all, until He would call to him, just as [He had done] at Har Sinai, where it says: "He called to Moshe on the seventh day form the midst of the cloud" (ibid. 24:16). 
The Ramban's cryptic comments like these only added to my confusion, while simultaneously reinforcing the prominence of his theory. The more I looked for explanations, the more questions and problems I encountered. 

These difficulties are due in large part to obscure and esoteric nature of subject matter here. The kavod Hashem at Sinai and over the Ark, the nature of the revelation at Sinai and Moshe's prophecy, the purpose of the Mishkan and its vessels - each of these topics is a metaphysical rabbit hole unto itself, and the Ramban's theory deals with ALL of them in conjunction! 

The Success of Failing to Understand

Just as I was ready to give up on this topic, it suddenly dawned on me: "I don't understand these topics ... but that's kind of the point here, isn't it?" All of these topics have one thing in common: they all reside at the outermost boundaries of human understanding, and force us to confront the limitations of our own mind.

This point is the most obvious with regards to the kavod Hashem at Sinai. The whole point of setting boundaries around Har Sinai was to prevent people from drawing near, "lest they break through to Hashem to see" (Shemos 19:21) - that is, to intellectually apprehend Hashem's kavod. The Rambam devotes an entire chapter of the Moreh ha'Nevuchim (1:5) to lauding the virtue of restraint in man's attempt to apprehend the Divine, as exemplified by the proper conduct of Moshe Rabbeinu at the Burning Bush, and condemning the improper conduct of the Atzilei Bnei Yisrael (Nobles of the Children of Israel) at Sinai: 
When the chief of the philosophers began to investigate very obscure matters and to attempt a proof concerning them, he excused himself by making a statement of the meaning of which was as follows. A student of his books should not, because of the subject of these researches, ascribe to him effrontery, temerity, and an excess of haste to speak of matters of which he had no knowledge; but rather he should ascribe to him the desire and the endeavor to acquire and achieve true beliefs to the extent to which this is in the power of man. In the same way we say that man should not hasten too much to accede to this great and sublime matter at the first try, without having made his soul undergo training in the sciences and the different kinds of knowledge, having truly improved his character, and having extinguished the desires and cravings engendered in him by his imagination. When, however, he has achieved and acquired knowledge of true and certain premises and has achieved knowledge of the rules of logic and interference and of the various ways of preserving himself from errors of the mind, he then should engage in the investigation of this subject. When doing this he should not make categorical affirmations in favor of the first opinion that occurs to him and should not, from the outset, strain and impel his thoughts toward the apprehension of the Creator; he rather should feel awe and refrain and hold back until he gradually elevates himself.  
It is in this sense that it is said: "And Moshe hid his face, for he was afraid to look upon God" (Shemos 3:6) - this being an additional meaning of the pasuk over and above its external meaning that indicates that he hid his face because of his being afraid to look upon the light manifesting himself - and not that Hashem, Who is greatly exalted above every deficiency, can be apprehended by the eyes. [Moshe], peace be upon him, was commended for this; and God, may He be exalted, let overflow upon him so much of His bounty and goodness that it became necessary to say of him: "And the image of Hashem shall he look upon" (Bamidbar 12:8). Chazal (Berachos 7a) have stated that this is a reward for his having at first "hidden his face" so as "not to look upon God."  
The Atzilei Bnei Yisrael, on the other hand, were overly hasty, strained their thoughts, and achieved apprehension, but only an imperfect one. Hence it is said of them: "And they saw the God of Israel, and there was under His feet [the likeness of sapphire brickwork, and it was like the essence of the heaven in purity]" (Shemos 24:10) and not merely: "And they saw the God of Israel." For these words are solely intended to present a criticism of their act of seeing, not to describe the manner of their seeing. Thus they were solely blamed for the form that their apprehension took inasmuch as corporeality entered into it to some extent - this being necessitated by their overhasty rushing forward before they had reached perfection. They deserved to perish, but [Moshe], peace be upon him, interceded for them, and they were granted a reprieve until the time they were burnt at Taveirah, whereas Nadav and Avihu were burnt at the Tent of Meeting, as is stated in a correct tradition.  
This having happened to these men, it behooves us, all the more, as being inferior to them, and it behooves those who are inferior to us, to aim at and engage in perfecting our knowledge of preparatory matters and in achieving those premises that purify apprehension of its impurity, which is error. [Only] then may one approach the divine and holy station. It is accordingly said: "And also the Kohanim who approach Hashem should be prepared, lest Hashem burst forth against them" (Shemos 19:22). Accordingly, Shlomo has bidden the man who wishes to reach this rank to be most cautious, warning by way of allegory: "guard your foot when you go to the house of God" (Koheles 4:17).  
I shall now go back in order to complete what we began to explain, and I shall say: Because of the hindrances that were a stumbling block to the Nobles of the Children of Israel  in their apprehension, their actions were also troubled; because of the corruption of their apprehension, they inclined toward matters of the body. Hence it says: "And they gazed at God, and they ate and they drank" (Shemos 24:11) ...
The need for intellectual restraint applies not only to the kavod Hashem at Sinai, but to the revelation itself, which was a one-time occurrence - "a great voice, never to be repeated" (Devarim 5:19) - and which utterly overwhelmed those who heard it, causing them to exclaim:
"Behold! Hashem, our God, has shown us His glory and His greatness, and we have heard His voice from the midst of the fire; this day we saw that Hashem will speak to a person and he can live. But now, why should we die when this great fire consumes us? If we continue to hear the voice of Hashem, our God, any longer, we will die! For is there any human that has heard the voice of the living God speaking from the midst of the fire, as we have, and lived?" (ibid. 5:21-23).
Regarding the unfathomable character of that revelation, the Rambam (Moreh ha'Nevuchim 2:33) writes:
It is impossible to expound on the Gathering at Mount Sinai to a greater extent than Chazal spoke about it, for it is one of the sisrei Torah (mysteries of Torah). The true reality of that apprehension and its modality are quite hidden from us, for nothing like it happened before and [nothing like it] will happen after.  
And if, as the Ramban suggests, this voice at Sinai is the same as (or related to) the voice that spoke with Moshe at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting from between the two Keruvim on top of the Ark, then that voice is also shrouded in the same type of mystery. 

The same goes for the nature of Moshe's nevuah. Not only does the Rambam repeatedly emphasize the difference between Moshe's nevuah and that of the other neviim, but he even goes so far as to write (ibid. 2:35):
I will let you know that everything I say on [the topic of] nevuah in these chapters of this treatise refers only to the form of nevuah of all the neviim who were before Moshe and who will come after him. As for the nevuah of Moshe Rabbeinu, I shall not touch upon it in these chapters with even a single word, either in an explicit fashion or in a flash. For to my mind, the term "navi" used with reference to Moshe and to the others is equivocal. The same applies, in my opinion, to his miracles and to the miracles of others, for his miracles do not belong to the class of the miracles of the other neviim
And even the Mishkan itself, which is in the realm of mitzvos - and, therefore, theoretically within our understanding - is treated by the Rishonim as an esoteric topic that should be approached with extreme reticence and intellectual humility. The Sefer ha'Chinuch, who provides reasons for all of the mitzvos, prefaces his explanation of Mishkan (Mitzvah #95) with the following reverent disclaimer:
What lies at the root of this mitzvah you will see [below] after these words of mine. Indeed, I have a great fear of drawing close to the Mishkan Hashem [to provide an explanation for it], for I know that "everyone who comes near, who comes near" (Bamidbar 17:28) if he has not adequately sanctified himself, will not see the house and live (cf. Shemos 33:20 regarding knowledge of Hashem's essence: "for man cannot see Me and live"). "And also the Kohanim who approach Hashem" for service "should sanctify themselves" as they come into the holiness within; and my brethren "the Leviim purified themselves ... and Aharon raised them up in an offering" (Bamidbar 8:21) before they would raise their voices in the Temple of Hashem. Yet, I said: "Let me also speak my thought and present my apology before my elders, and I will "wash my hands in innocence" (Tehilim 73:13) before I go up to the House of Hashem.
Thus it is clear that the difficulty I faced in my investigation of this topic was to be expected. All of the topics that comprise the Ramban's theory about the Mishkan and Sinai are exceedingly recondite, and it is highly unlikely for someone of my low caliber to expect to attain a fundamental comprehension of such lofty concepts. 

Upon realizing that the roadblock I encountered was an inherent part of the investigation I embarked upon - "a feature, not a bug," as they say - my central question shifted. Rather than attempting to understand the elements of the Ramban's theory, I instead began to wonder: What is the purpose of setting up the Mishkan and the Camp to reflect the most incomprehensible phenomena known to man? 

Consider the elements of the Pesach Seder, which are set up to remind us of events and concepts related to the Yetzias Mitzrayim (Exodus from Egypt). Matzah reminds us of the redemption; Maror reminds us of the bitterness; drinking four cups reminds us that we are freemen. These readily accessible elements of the Seder connect us to readily accessible ideas which benefit us by their contemplation. Compare that to the Mishkan and Camp, which is set up to remind us of concepts that are all but incomprehensible to even the most erudite individuals in the nation! What, exactly, does this accomplish? 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unfortunately, it appears that I'm going to run out of time before I can finish working out an answer and finishing this post. Shavuos is almost upon us, and  I want to think about this some more because I don't yet feel that I have an adequate answer. I will share one thought that occurred to me. 

Dwelling with the Unknowable

Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda (Chovos ha'Levavos 1:10) writes:
The ultimate result of your knowledge of God should be the confession and conviction that of His glorious Essence you are completely ignorant. If you form in your mind or imagination a picture or representation of the Creator, strive to investigate His Being; and then you will be convinced of His existence, and all likenesses of Him will be rejected by you, so that you will find Him through reasoning alone.
We worship a Being Who is completely incomprehensible to us. This Being manifested His incomprehensible kavod to us at Sinai, spoke to us in a meaningful manner through a type of communication whose nature is completely incomprehensible to us, gave us His Torah through His prophet through a form of nevuah which is completely incomprehensible to us, then commanded us to build for Him a Mishkan, so that His incomprehensible kavod can dwell among us, speaking in its incomprehensible manner to the navi whose nevuah is absolutely incomprehensible. 

It is easy and natural for us to focus on aspects of Torah that we do know or can know, but we mustn't lose sight of that which we can't know. To be a Jew is to follow a religion entirely centered around knowledge which centers around an unknowable core. The setup of the Camp was designed as a constant reminder of these unknowable foundations: Hashem, His kavod, His navi, His voice, His indwelling in the Mishkan. 

We no longer live in the Camp in the Wilderness, but we do still dwell alongside these great unknowns. This Shavuos let us reflect on the significance of such a life - one devoted to maximizing each of our potentials as a knowledge-seeking being, with full awareness of the limits of our knowledge. 

Monday, June 3, 2019

Why Do Jews Wear Yarmulkes?

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



Why Do Jews Wear Yarmulkes?

If you are a kippah-wearing Jew, chances are that you've been asked some version of this question. And unless questions like this leave you tongue-tied, chances are that you've managed to give at least some semblance of an accurate answer. 

There are a number of valid answers that can be given to this question. In this blog post I'd like to share the answer that I usually give, though I am well aware that it may not be the most "mainstream" answer. I'm going to share this answer in its fullest form, but I'll conclude with a one-sentence summary, which is probably the version that you'll most frequently use as an answer if asked this question in real life.

I typically begin with an explanation of the etymology of the word "yarmulke." There are two explanations for the origins this strangely spelled word: one pshat (an accurate explanation of the word itself), and the other drash (a homiletic explanation). The pshat explanation is summed up by this article in Tablet Magazine which states:
Yarmulke’s etymological pedigree is undeniably Polish, in which language the word jarmułka (with the stress, though, on the second syllable) still exists, and which originally referred to a skullcap worn by priests.
The drash explanation is that the "yarmulke" is a compound word derived from the Aramaic expression "yarei malka" (ירא מלכא) which means "fear/awe of the king." According to this "folk etymology," the yarmulke is a reminder to be in a state of fear/awe before "the king." Although this explanation is clearly post-facto (i.e. historically, no Aramaic speaker ever used the word "yarmulke"), I find that it serves as an excellent springboard for answering the question at hand. 

Towards the end of the Moreh ha'Nevuchim (3:52) the Rambam depicts the personal conduct of highly perfected individuals using a mashal (metaphor) of how a person conducts himself in the presence of a king:
Man does not sit, move, and occupy himself when he is alone in his house as he sits, moves, and occupies himself when he is in the presence of a great king; nor does he speak and conduct himself when he is with his family and relatives as he speaks in the king’s council. Therefore, he who chooses to achieve human perfection and to be a true man of God must awaken himself and know that the great king who accompanies him and clings to him is greater than any human being, even [King] David and [King] Solomon. 
Now if one were to pause here and ask: "Who is this king?" most people would answer: "God, of course!" The Rambam, however, provides a different answer:
The king who cleaves to [man] and accompanies him is the intellect that overflows towards us and is the bond between us and Him, may He be exalted. Just as we apprehend Him by means of that light which He caused to overflow toward us – as it is stated: “In Your light do we see light” (Tehilim 36:10) – so does He by means of this selfsame light examine us; and because of it, He, may He be exalted, is constantly with us, examining from on high: “Can anyone hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him?” (Yirmiyahu 23:24). Understand this well. 
Let that sink in for a moment: the "great king" in the Rambam's mashal, "who accompanies him and clings to him," is not God. Rather, it is the human intellect, which constitutes the sole connection between man and God. [1]

When we plug this understanding back into the original mashal, we emerge with a significantly different vibe than our initial impression might have left us with:
Man does not sit, move, and occupy himself when he is alone in his house as he sits, moves, and occupies himself when he consciously recognizes that he is an intellectual being; nor does he speak and conduct himself when he is with his family and relatives as he speaks when cognizant of the fact that he possesses an intellect, which constitutes his sole connection to God. [2] 
The Rambam then elaborates on the practical implications of this recognition, one of which is the basis of the minhag (halachic custom) to wear a yarmulke at all times:
Know that when perfect men understand this, they achieve deliberateness, humility, awe and fear of Hashem, and shame before Him, may He be exalted – in genuine ways, not based on imagination [3] – such that their secret conduct with their wives and in the bathhouses is like their public conduct with other people. This, as you will find, was the way of our most renowned Sages with their wives: “One uncovers a handbreadth and covers up a handbreadth” (Talmud Bavli: Nedarim 20a-b). They also said: “Who is modest? Whoever goes to the bathroom at night as he does by day” (Talmud Bavli: Berachos 62a). You know already that they forbade “walking about with an upright posture” (Talmud Bavli: Kiddushin 31a) on account of: “The whole earth is filled with His glory” (Yeshayahu 6:3)all this being intended to firmly establish the notion that I have mentioned to you, that we are always before Him, may He be exalted, and in the dwelling of His shechinah (i.e. providence). And the greatest among the Sages of blessed memory were averse to uncovering their heads, because the shechinah hovers around man. They also spoke little for this reason. We have already given in [the Commentary on] Avos the explanation that was needed concerning the habit of speaking but little: “for God is in heaven and you are on earth; therefore, let your words be few” (Koheles 5:1).
In other words, the practice of wearing a yarmulke - or, more accurately, not going about with an uncovered head - serves to reinforce and naturally express the recognition that God knows and relates to man, and that "the whole earth is filled with His glory," and our intellect is the link between ourselves and Him. 

When answering the question at hand, I tend not to delve into the halachic intricacies of wearing yarmulke. However, I do underscore the Rambam's view that wearing a yarmulke is not a halacha, but a minhag (halachic custom) - one that was intended specifically for talmidei chachamim (Torah scholars). The Rambam codifies this minhag in the Mishneh Torah in the section of Hilchos Deos (Laws of Character Traits) which pertain specifically to talmidei chachamim:
5:1 – Just as a chacham (wise man) is distinguished in his wisdom and character traits and is differentiated from the rest of the nation, so too, he needs to be differentiated in his actions: in his eating and drinking, in his sexual intercourse and the manner in which he uses the bathroom, in his speech, in his manner of walking, in his clothing, in the content of his words, and in his business dealings. All of these actions must be refined and perfected to a very high degree. 
5:6 – Talmidei chachamim conduct themselves with great tznius (modesty): they do not degrade themselves, nor do they uncover their heads or their bodies. Even when they go to the bathroom, they are modest etc. [the Rambam then goes on to list various ways in which talmidei chachamim practice modesty in the bathroom.]
The Rambam's codification makes sense in light of the passage in the Moreh ha'Nevuchim. The average Jew maintains his awareness of Hashem via the mitzvos that are incorporated into his day to day routine: krias shema, tefilah, tefillin, mezuzah, tzitzis, berachos, etc. These specific mitzvos serve as reminders of specific ideas about Hashem and His relationship with us, and "were commanded in them in order to love God and remember Him constantly" (Introduction to the Mishneh Torah: Division of Books). Only the elite chachamim, whose lives revolve around Torah and chochmah, are on the level to attain the level of "deliberateness, humility, awe and fear of Hashem, and shame before Him, may He be exalted – in genuine ways, not based on imagination" described by the Rambam. Only such highly perfected individuals need the extra reminder of the yarmulke because only they are in a position to live a life with that degree of awareness of God. 

Nevertheless, the minhag has spread to the average Jew, and although we aren't on the level to truly "fear the king" in this manner, we still benefit from our knowledge that such a level of human perfection is possible, and is the ultimate goal towards which we must strive.

I sometimes conclude by mentioning that the yarmulke happens to be a great symbol of Jewish identity because it reflects Judaism's uniqueness as a religion. Whereas other religions preach that the relationship between man and God is based on faith, Judaism teaches that it is based on the intellect. [4] It is therefore fitting that the Jew adorn his head, which houses his brain - the seat of the intellect - with a symbol of his religious identity.

So, to sum it up succinctly:
Q: Why do Jews wear yarmulkes?
A: To remind ourselves to be "in awe of the king" - that is, to live our lives based on our intellect, which is our only connection to God.
[1] In truth, the Rambam's explanation here is predicated upon the Aristotelian notion of the Active Intellect (seichel ha'poal), its relationship with the material intellect, and the relationship of both to Hashem. Based on my limited knowledge of this debatably outdated doctrine, I don't see any point in bringing it up in the context of the answer to the question at hand.
[2] When writing this blog post I associated to a video clip of James Randi (a.k.a. "The Amazing Randi") in which he explains why he doesn't use drugs. Although Randi's statements reflect a purely secular outlook, I think it's still a great exemplification of the type of intellectual awareness that the Rambam describes. Randi says:
I want to be, if I can, as sure of the world - the real world around me - as is possible. Now, you can only attain that to a certain degree, but I want the greatest degree of control. I don't, I've never involved myself in narcotics of any kind, I don't smoke, I don't drink, because that can easily just fuzz the edges of my rationality, fuzz the edges of my reasoning powers, and I want to be as aware as I possibly can. That means giving up a lot of fantasies that might be comforting in some ways, but I'm willing to give that up in order to live in an actually real world - as close as I can get to it.
[3] The distinction between a person who relates to this idea "in genuine ways" as opposed to ways that are "based on imagination" requires its own blog post. Suffice it to say, an excellent example of ways that are "based on imagination" can be found in the Christmas song, "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" mentality of:
He sees you when you're sleepin'

He knows when you're a wake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!
This represents a rather childish sentiment that, "I shouldn't do anything bad when Daddy is watching!" and is a far cry from the state of mind described by the Rambam here.
[4] See my blog post Parashas Yisro: The Mitzvah of Emunah for a detailed treatment of this concept.