Parashas Eikev: What is Yiras Hashem (Fear of God)?

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Artwork: Oveverwhelming Splendor, by Richard Wright.
The question: Does the fear depicted in this artwork have anything to do with yiras Hashem?

Parashas Eikev: What is Yiras Hashem (Fear of God)?

Only Yirah

This week's parashah contains of the many "fundamentals of Judaism" pesukim in Sefer Devarim. Moshe Rabbeinu declares: 

"Now, O Israel, what does Hashem, your God, ask of you? Only to fear Hashem, your God, to go in all His ways, and to love Him, and to serve Hashem, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul, to observe the commandments of Hashem and His decrees, which I command you today, for your benefit." (Devarim 10:12-13)

Chazal (Talmud Bavli Berachos 33b) are astonished by Moshe's use of the word "only" asking: "Is fear of heaven a small matter?!" They answer: "Yes - for Moshe it was a small matter. This may be compared to [the following case:] if a man is asked for a big item and he has it, then it seems like a small item to him, but if he is asked for a small item and he doesn't have it, then it seems like a big item to him." 

According to Chazal, Moshe's statement was difficult. According to the meforshim (commentators), Chazal's answer is difficult. And every time I've taken up this topic with my chavrusas, it's proven to be difficult.

This week, however, I stumbled upon a 10-page analysis by the Abvravanel [1] of the topic of yiras Hashem in his commentary on our parashah. The Abravanel paraphrases the view of his predecessors (i.e. the Ran and the Rambam), states his objections to it, then offers his own view. His presentation is so valuable that I decided to write a "Set Table" style dvar Torah, with a walk-through of his analysis.

Ordinarily my practice on this blog is to translate and incorporate as many firsthand sources as possible into my treatment of the material. In this case, for the sake of brevity, I will summarize rather than translate - with only a few direct quotations/translations. 

The View of the Ran (and the Rambam - according to the Abravanel [2])

The Ran [3] begins by explaining that there are two types of yirah, in general (i.e. not specifically in relation to Hashem). 

The first type of yirah he defines as "a withdrawal of the soul and a mobilizing of its faculties when it senses something intimidating." In English we refer to this emotion as "fear." We experience this "yirah of fear" when faced with anything that we perceive to be a threat of any kind. The Ran explains that this type of yirah stems from the "animalistic soul" (nefesh ha'chiyunis) and can therefore be found in many animals as well (e.g. the fear felt by a lamb upon seeing a wolf). Examples of this "yirah of fear" in Tanach include: "Rescue me, please, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Eisav, for I fear him lest he come and strike me down, mother and children" (Bereishis 32:12) and "for I was afraid to say, 'This is my wife,' lest they kill me" (ibid. 26:7).

In contrast, the second type of yirah is a product of the intellect (seichel) and stems from the recognition of something or someone that is exceedingly great. In English we refer to this emotion as "awe." Examples of this "yirah of awe" include: "Why were you not afraid (i.e. sufficiently awed) to speak against My servant, Moshe?" (Bamidbar 12:8) and "And [Yaakov] feared (i.e. was in awe) and said, 'How awesome is this place! This is none other than the abode of God, and this is the gate of the heavens!" (Bereishis 28:17) and "Let your fear (i.e. awe) of your teacher be like your fear of heaven" (Avos 4:12).

The Ran explains that both types of yirah can be found in relation to Hashem. Those people who are deficient (anashim chaseirim) are afraid of the punishments that are sent forth from Hashem. Those who are perfected (shleimim) have no such fear. Instead, they have an "intellectual awe of His exaltedness" (yirah sichlis l'romemuso), based on their comprehension of His creations and the lowly place of man in the totality of existence. 

The Rambam [4] provides a beautiful description of this "yirah of awe" in the Mishneh Torah. Since the Rambam maintains that the experience of ahavas Hashem (love of God) and yiras Hashem (fear of God) go hand in hand, and since we will revisit the topic of ahavas Hashem later in this blog post, I will quote his definitions of both yirah and ahavah here:

What is the way of loving and fearing God? When a person contemplates His great and wondrous works and creations and sees from them His infinite and incomparable wisdom, he immediately loves, praises, and extols and is filled with a great desire to know the Great Name, as David said, “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (Psalms 42:3). 

And when he reflects on these same principles in relation to himself, he immediately recoils back with fear and dread, and knows that he is a small, insignificant, unenlightened creature standing with a frail and puny mind in the presence of Perfect Knowledge, as David said, “[When I behold Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and stars that you have set in place, I exclaim,] ‘What is frail man that You should notice him, [and the son of mortal man that You should take note of him?’]” (Psalms 8:4-5).

Later on, the Rambam [5] writes another description of ahavah and yirah, from a slightly different angle:

When a person contemplates all of these things (i.e. all of the phenomena in the universe) and recognizes all of the creations – from angels, to celestial bodies, to man, etc. – and sees the wisdom of HaKadosh Baruch Hu in all of the forms and creations – his love for God will increase, his soul will thirst, and his flesh will yearn to love God; and he will be in fear and trepidation from his own lowliness, insignificance, and frailty when he compares himself to even one of these large, holy bodies – and certainly to one of the pure forms which are utterly separated from matter – and he will find himself to be like a vessel filled with shame and embarrassment, empty and lacking.

This is what the Ran means when he characterizes this yirah as "intellectual" awe: it will only be experienced by a person in proportion to his knowledge and understanding of God's wisdom as manifest in the universe. The Ran adds that this type of yirah will also have an effect on a person's actions: just as one would be ashamed to do something improper in front of a great person, although he doesn't fear any harm, so too, one who recognizes Hashem's greatness will feel ashamed to act contrary to His will. 

Having established these two types of yirah, the Ran returns to our pasuk and asks: Which type of yirah was Moshe Rabbeinu talking about when he said, "what does Hashem, your God, ask of you? Only to fear Hashem, your God etc."? Was Moshe referring to both types of yirah, or was he referring solely to the "yirah of awe"? 

On the surface, both answers present difficulties. If we assume that the yirah mentioned by Moshe includes the "yirah of fear," then there are two problems. The first is that this type of fear doesn't distinguish between between good and bad, true or false, just or unjust. The individual who operates based on this fear is simply responding to a threat, and doing whatever is necessary to avoid the perceived harm. For example, after witnessing Chur get killed by Bnei Yisrael (Shemos Rabbah 41:10), Aharon decided to build the Eigel ha'Zahav (Golden Calf); in other words, his fear led him him to do an aveirah (transgression), for which he was punished with death. [6] It is inconceivable that Hashem would demand a type of avodah which stems exclusively from the animalistic part of man, and doesn't even differentiate between good and bad.

The second problem stems from the aforementioned statement of Chazal, that this type of yirah was "a small thing for Moshe but a large thing for us." Is "yirah of fear" really such a "large thing" for us? Of course not! Even young children and animals have a basic fear of punishment. It would be absurd for Chazal to describe this type of primal fear as "a large thing" for us. 

On the other hand, if we assume that Moshe was only talking about the "yirah of awe," then we run into an even bigger problem: this type of yirah can only be found in the greatest chachamim (wise men) and neviim (prophets), who have reached such a superlative level of scientific knowledge. How could Moshe expect this level to be attained by the entire nation? Even Moshe, at the outset of his prophetic career, was praised for this type of yirah, as it is stated: "and Moshe concealed his face, for he was afraid to gaze at God" (Shemos 3:6). This shows that this was a "big thing" even for Moshe, at this point in his development. To expect all of Klal Yisrael to reach this level is unrealistic.

The Ran proposes a creative answer. He explains that Moshe was, indeed, referring exclusively to "yirah of awe." Why, then, did he describe this yirah as though it were easy and universally attainable? Because he was trying to make a point about the nature of this yirah. Since this yirah stems from the intellect, and since man's intellect naturally yearns for knowledge [6], then this type of yirah is actually an easy thing for the intellect - like walking up the stairs on an upwards escalator. This is what Moshe Rabbeinu was speaking about when he described yirah as "easy." In other words, we shouldn't think about love of learning as something foreign to our nature, which we must fight and work to instill within ourselves. Rather, as human beings, we naturally enjoy learning and seek knowledge.

However, we all have a major impediment which makes things difficult: our physicality, which includes our body, our psyche, and all of our drives, tendencies, and personality traits. The surest way to prevent our physicality from overcoming us and impeding our quest for yirah is to subdue it with threats of punishment - that is, by strategically employing the "yirah of fear" to control our inner animal. For this reason Moshe Rabbeinu follows up his discourse about the intellectual yirah with by reminding Klal Yisrael of the punishments that Hashem wrought in Egypt and in the Wilderness (see Devarim 11). 

Thus, the Ran holds that Moshe Rabbeinu's exhortation was designed to convey the full picture of how to develop yiras Hashem. On the one hand, yirah [of awe] is easy, since the mind of man naturally yearns for knowledge. On the other hand, yirah [of fear] is necessary to keep the animalistic part of man at bay, so that the rational soul can be properly nurtured to the point where it reigns supreme.

The Abravanel's Critiques of the Ran

I liked the Ran's approach quite a bit ... but the Abravanel doesn't. Not only does he disagree with the Ran's explanation of our pasuk and Chazal's commentary, but he even objects to the Ran's two types of yirah and maintains that they cannot be considered "yiras Hashem" in any sense, whatsoever!

The Abravanel begins with a critique of the Ran's explanation of our pasuk, saying that "the rav (i.e. the Ran) wanted to combine two types of yirah as both being necessary - on account of the intellect and physicality - to acquire success." He then explains that the two types of yirah as defined by the Ran are so fundamentally different that they cannot be subsumed under a single category, nor can they coexist within a single person. The "perfected person" will have no need for the "yirah of fear" and the "deficient person" will have no access to the "yirah of awe." 

[My chavrusa and I still feel that we aren't grasping the Abravanel's argument here. Didn't the Ran acknowledge the inherent differences between these two types of yirah? Didn't he explain that because man has an intellectual and an animalistic nature, both types of yirah are necessary? We figured that perhaps the Abravanel is objecting to the fact that Moshe speaks as though he is referring to one type of fear. If these two types of fear only differ quantitatively, and exist on a spectrum, it would be possible to say that he was referring to both types of yirah, and addressing both types of people. But since these types of yirah are qualitatively different, then they cannot be subsumed under Moshe's statement "only to fear Hashem." We're still working on this point.]

Next, the Abravanel dismantles the Ran theory that these two general types of yirah correspond to two levels of yiras Hashem. He explains that the "yirah of fear" cannot possibly have anything to do with Hashem, "since all avodah (service) towards Hashem in all matters must be directed by knowledge and understanding, which are activities of the intellect - whether the theoretical intellect or the practical intellect - but not from the animalistic soul." He explains that the animalistic soul is only affected by physical stimuli, but not by comprehension and intellection. For this reason, fear of Hashem's punishments should not be classified under "animalistic fear," since the former involves knowledge the intellect to some degree. 

Moreover, animalistic fear can't be considered "avodah" because it is really just a form of oneis (duress) and compulsion. As proof the Abravanel cites the midrash (Shabbos 88a) that Hashem held Har Sinai over Bnei Yisrael, saying: "If you accept the Torah - great! If not, this will be your grave," to which Chazal raise a difficulty: "From here we see a strong objection against [our obligation to keep] Torah!" Chazal respond to this difficulty by saying that the Jews accepted the Torah out of love during the days of Mordechai and Esther. Regardless of how we understand Chazal's answer, we see from their question that acceptance of the Torah under a threat which arouses animalistic fear (e.g. being crushed to death by a mountain) does not constitute a valid acceptance of Torah and mitzvos. How, then, could an animalistic fear be a valid form of avodas Hashem - one which Hashem actually desires? The Abravanel even goes so far as to say that doing mitzvos out of an animalistic fear doesn't even qualify as the type of avodah she'lo lishmah (divine service which is not for its own sake) which leads to lishmah (divine service for its own sake).

Next, the Abravanel argues that "yirah of awe" also cannot be what the Torah means by "yiras Hashem." First of all, this type yirah should really be called "chochmah" (wisdom) or "yediah" (knowledge), since - according to the Ran - the injunction to "fear Hashem" practically means "gain knowledge of Hashem's wondrous creations and a recognition of your own place in the universe." And if you'll say that it should be called "yirah" because of the emotional affect which emerges from this level of knowledge, it would be more fitting to call this "pliah" ("wonderment"), since the experience creates wonder but doesn't lead to "fear" in any sense. To the contrary, the more knowledge one has of Hashem's exaltedness and man's lowliness, the less yirah he has because he feels even more distant from Hashem. But the more he knows, the more pliah he experiences.

Furthermore, the term "yirah" in Tanach always implies action - not study or knowledge. In fact, the pasuk says: "Fear of Hashem is the beginning of wisdom, good intelligence to all their practitioners" (Tehilim 111:10), which implies that yiras Hashem is a precursor to wisdom - not the result of wisdom. Throughout all of Tanach "yirah" never refers to "advanced knowledge of the universe." 

Lastly, the experienced described by the Ran as "yirah of awe" would more aptly be described as "ahavah" (love) - but it is impossible to simultaneously love and fear someone, since love is a force of attraction and fear is a force of repulsion. And if the Ran is so comfortable saying that there are two categories of yiras Hashem (i.e. intellectual awe and animalistic fear of punishment) then why doesn't he also posit that there are two categories of ahavas Hashem (i.e. intellectual ahavah and animalistic desire for reward)? 

The Abravanel concludes is breakdown by saying that the Ran's view "is not dictated by intellectually straight thinking, nor is it warranted by the pesukim, nor can it be found in the words of Chazal." 

The Abravanel's View

The Abravanel now introduces a completely different paradigm for ahavas Hashem and yiras Hashem. He starts with the foundation of his entire view of avodas Hashem, ahavas Hashem, and yiras Hashem. Since this part is relatively concise, I will translate it instead of summarizing it:

Our avodas Hashem is proper and obligatory on account of the kindnesses which we have received from Him - the bringing into existence of creation and its preservation, as well as His love for our forefathers, His bringing us out from Egypt, His giving of the Torah, His [enabling us to] inherit the Land, and all of the other acts of goodness He did for us that are outside of the patterns of nature, as miracles, in accordance with His absolute will. 

Because of this beneficence which Hashem has done for us, we are obligated to love Him - and from this love, [we are obligated] to serve Him with all of our heart, and all of our soul. This is due to the fact that avodah and ahavah are two in name but one in existence, like the oneness of "potentiality" and "actuality." Ahavah towards Him is a potentiality that is found within the soul that is bound up in it, and avodah is the actualization of that ahavah. 

In addition to the ahavah which is proper towards Him in order to serve Him, man also must guard himself to the utmost degree from sinning before Him or provoking Him, for it would not be proper to have ingratitude to someone who bestowed such kindness and benefits. 

Thus, we have in relation to God an obligation of love, to do His avodah, as well as an obligation to guard ourselves and to be afraid of provoking Him. And there is nothing here that involves His exaltedness, or the wonders and and harmony of of His creations, such that one would need a high degree of understanding and wisdom beyond [a basic recognition] of His kindness in the creation and preservation of the universe, which every person knows. 

And in addition to the fact that this perspective [based on the creation and preservation of the universe] obligates us to love Him and fear Him, there is additional good reward for those who love Him and keep His mitzvos, for Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu will benefit them and give them reward for their love and their avodah. Likewise, their [additional] yirah and caution against sinning will save them from the harms and misfortunes of the world. 

To summarize: our obligation to serve, love, and fear Hashem all stem from our "indebtedness" (so to speak) to Him for all of the good He has done for us, both in creating and maintaining the universe and in the abundant goodness He has shown to our forefathers and our nation. This hakaras ha'tov (gratitude) is equally applicable and accessible to all people, regardless of their level of intelligence and comprehension of His works. No amount of knowledge will change the extent of our indebtedness. The chacham and the simpleton owe equal amounts of gratitude to Hashem for the benefits they have received. This is the Abravanel's view.

Before explaining Moshe's statement, the Abravanel directs our attention to the context in which our pasuk appears. In the pesukim leading up to our pasuk, Moshe reminds Bnei Yisrael of their many rebellions in the Wilderness - the worst of which was the Cheit ha'Eigel (Sin of the Golden Calf). The Abravanel explains what Hashem could have done, and what He actually did:

According to the strict letter of the law, even if Hashem forgave them and atoned for the incident of the Eigel, He could have increased upon them the yoke of Torah and mitzvos. This is what kings do with those who rebel against their service, namely, that even though they are forgiven for their sin and they return to their work, the king imposes upon them more laws than they previously had. But Hashem did not do this. He didn't increase the weight of their yoke, nor did he add even a single mitzvah. Instead, He only warned them that they should be exceedingly vigilant in guarding those mitzvos which He had already given them.

On the basis of his conceptualization of avodah, ahavah, and yirah, and in light of the context established by Moshe's speech, the Abravanel explains our pasuk:

Therefore [Moshe] said: "What does Hashem, your God, ask of you? Only to fear Him" for this request is not hard, but easy - and all the more so after [Bnei Yisrael] wickedly sinned with the Eigel. 

Chazal explained that because "man's inclination is evil" and always inclines towards sin, they asked: "Is yirah a small thing?" Their answer was that in relation to Moshe, who guarded himself from sin, this vigilance was easy. And even in relation to Israel, based on the goods they had received from Him, [yirah] would be proper and right. 

According to the Abravanel, the following analogy may be made. A student is given a generous scholarship to attend a prestigious university - a scholarship which was not earned by merit, but was given out of generosity. But instead of working hard to excel in his courses, he slacks off, disrespects his professors, trashes his dorm, and violates the terms of his student contract. The dean calls him in and says, "Look. We have given you this tremendous opportunity, for your benefit. We will give you another chance to boost your grades, we will forgive you for your chutzpah, we will overlook the damage you have caused to university property, and we will forgive your breach of contract. The ONLY thing we are asking is that you guard yourself from future infractions. Is that an unreasonable request?"

It would seem that the Abravanel is learning Chazal's interpretation of Moshe's statement in the same vein. Moshe was saying: "Yiras Hashem ought to be easy, considering all of the good that Hashem has done for you, and the tolerance He has shown you despite your many rebellions. Not only has He forgiven you for these transgressions, but He has even refrained from increasing your yoke. The only thing He is asking you to do is to exercise vigilance and not violate the mitzvos with which you have been charged." 

Concluding Thoughts

Unfortunately, my chavrusa and I were only able to work on this for two days before I had to write and post this dvar Torah. There are still many questions that we need to resolve, including:

• Which of the Abravanel's critiques of the Ran have merit and which do not? 
• What are the Ran and the Abravanel really arguing about? What is at the root of their disagreement? 
• Which explanation of the pasuk is smoother and more convincing? 
• What is this the Abravanel's concept of being obligated to serve Hashem out of this hakaras ha'tov? How does this differ from other views of the nature of our avodah (e.g. the Ralbag's conceptualization of Torah as part of the unfolding of the hashgachah in the universe)? 
• According to the Abravanel, how do the Ran's two types of yirah fit into Judaism? Was he really serious about animalistic fear playing absolutely no role in our avodah?

Lastly, there is another answer that I'd like to develop based on my understanding of yiras Hashem in Mishlei. That, along with these other questions, will have to wait until a later time.

[1] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Devarim 10:12

[2] I say "the Rambam - according to the Abravanel" because that is the view of the Rambam I intend to write about in this blog post. In other words, this will not be an examination of what the Rambam holds on his own terms. Instead, this should be understood as the Abravanel's understanding of the Rambam's view. 

[2] Rabbeinu Nissim ben Reuven, Drashos ha'Ran #10. Full disclosure: although I have learned this drashah inside several times, I am relying on the Abravanel's presentation of the Ran's view.

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah 2:2

[4] ibid. 4:12

[5] This is according to the Abravanel's interpretation, which I wrote about in Parashas Chukas: Moshe Rabbeinu's Sin.

[6] "[Hashem] instilled within [people] the capacity to learn and to understand - for this tendency is present in every man, that the more he is drawn after the ways of chochmah (wisdom) and tzedek (righteousness), the more he desires them and pursues them" (Rambam, Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah 6:4)

Mishlei 17:13 - Mishleic Karma

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Mishlei 17:13 - Mishleic Karma

משלי יז:יג

מֵשִׁיב רָעָה תַּחַת טוֹבָה, לֹא תָמוּשׁ רָעָה מִבֵּיתוֹ:

Mishlei 17:13

If one repays good with bad, badness will not depart from his house. 

The questions on this pasuk are:

(1) How does this work? Our pasuk appears to be describing a karma-like effect. The problem is that karma - in the sense of "a mystical force of retribution" - isn't real. Since Mishlei deals with consequences within the laws of nature, how can we understand the phenomenon in our pasuk?

(2) What "badness" will not depart from his house? The term "badness" (raah) is as vague as can be. Is this the same type of "badness" as the "bad" in the first half of the pasuk? If not, what is it? And why was Shlomo ha'Melech so vague? 

(3) What does it mean when it says that the badness "will not depart from his house"? Why focus on the house instead of the person himself? And what are the implications of "will not depart"? This would seem to indicate that the "badness" was always there, and could have departed were it not for this guy's repaying of good with bad.

[Time to think! Read on when ready.]

Here is my four-sentence summary (with an extremely liberal definition of "sentence") of the main idea of this pasuk:

It is human nature to expect that the beneficiaries of good actions will (or should) repay these actions with good; consequently, the person who repays good with bad will be universally abhorred. Such an individual is exceedingly egotistical in that he believes he is entitled to be the recipient of good from others, but at the same time, feels that he doesn’t owe them anything; not only that, but he feels free to treat them however he pleases, as though they are nothing but his pawns who exist only to serve him. As a direct consequence of this insensitive, egocentric way of relating to others, the “house” (i.e. system) of such an individual will be continually “plagued by badness” in four ways: (1) the members of his household/system will resent him, and that resentment will yield harmful consequences; (2) they will not be willing to do good for him, and he will miss out on those benefits; (3) his sense of entitlement will cause him to be remiss in his responsibilities towards the members of his household/system; this will harm the household/system as a whole, and he – as a part of that household/system – will suffer as a consequence; (4) his egotism will generate excessive and unrealistic expectations of how others should relate to him, and these unfulfilled expectations will breed perpetual frustration, dissatisfaction, and anger. Although there is no such thing as actual Karma, the victim of this type of evil recompense can take solace in his knowledge of “Mishleic karma” and know with certainty that the perpetrator will suffer greatly as a “punishment” for the way he treats others. 

This is an example of what I call a "list-pasuk." Many pesukim in Mishlei state a specific consequence for a specific behavior. In contrast, "list-pesukim" simply identify the behavior of the fool/rasha and leave it to the reader to figure out the consequences, of which there are many. "List-pesukim," such as our pasuk, will typically make general reference to the consequences in vague or categorical terms, so as not to lead the reader to focus on a narrow set of consequences.

The phenomenon of "list-pesukim" exemplifies one of the many differences between Shlomo ha'Melech's proverbs and (for lack of a better term) "English proverbs." English proverbs are essentially spoon-fed truths which are instantly understandable: "the early bird catches the worm," "no pain no gain," "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." In contrast, the vast majority of Shlomo ha'Melech's proverbs are not readily understandable; their ideas can only be accessed after thought and analysis.

I believe that the main reason for this is because Shlomo ha'Melech is trying to do more than just deliver content. His goal is for his students to train their minds and acquire a different way of thinking about life. By stating these ideas in cryptic language, he forces the student to explore the subject matter of each pasuk in-depth and try out different ways of learning. In the end, the students gains more from the analysis of the pasuk than a single idea.

"List-pesukim" fit into this paradigm because there isn't even a specific idea that he's conveying. Instead, these pesukim are like Shlomo pointing to a certain behavior and saying, "Hey - check that guy out. What do you think is going to happen to him? What mistake(s) is he making?" The "lesson" of the pasuk ultimately comes from the student's own analysis, with zero spoon-feeding. 

The Harmful Notion of the "Jewish Soul"

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The Harmful Notion of the "Jewish Soul"

Disclaimer and Context

This is more of a "rant" than a strictly "lishmah" post. I have consciously chosen to write this post as more polemical than dialectical. For this reason, do not expect this to be a comprehensive treatment of the topic at hand, in which both sides of the issue are examined from a detached, analytical, non-judgmental perspective. Unlike most of the posts on this blog, which I strive to write from a neutral standpoint, this post has an agenda: to articulate why I object to the notion of "Jewish souls."

I think it would help to provide some context for how I came to write this post. Last week I was invited to join a new (secret) Facebook support group for gerim (converts). Hearing so many personal stories of discrimination and insensitivity towards gerim has caused me to revisit some of the ger-related topics which I hadn't thought about for a while.

In Friday's dvar Torah (Which Souls Were at Sinai?) I mentioned a pet peeve of mine: when born-Jews learn that I'm a ger (convert) and exclaim, "Oh, but you're such a good Jew! You CLEARLY must have been born with a Jewish soul!" or "You CLEARLY have a spark of Yiddishkeit in your soul!" or "You MUST have had a Jewish ancestor, and now your Yiddishe neshamah (Jewish soul) is just finding its way back home!" 

I am irked by comments like these for three reasons: (1) they are racist, in the sense of being "anti-goyim," (2) they minimize my journey to Judaism and my conversion, and (3) according to my understanding, the notion of a "Jewish soul" is false. 

We will now discuss each of these three reasons. 

Reason #1: Racism / Anti-Gentilism

I know that in most cases, born-Jews don't mean anything bad or malicious by such statements, but that doesn't change the anti-goyim undertones of their words. The underlying message I hear in their words is: "It simply cannot BE that you were once a GOY! Goyim can't POSSIBLY be part of the Jewish people! Therefore, you MUST have been a Jew SOMEHOW! Heaven FORFEND that a dirty goyishe neshamah could have found its way into our holy ranks!"

Now, before any of the born-Jews start "Jewsplaining" to me how I'm reading too much into statements like these, let's see if we can agree to the following four points: (1) there are born-Jews who say these things WITHOUT these intentions, even on an unconscious level; (2) there are born-Jews people who say these things who DO harbor such intentions, even though they aren't aware of them or don't mean anything bad by them; (3) there are geirim who are NOT bothered by such comments, and might even find them to be welcoming and affirming of their Jewish identity; (4) you, as a born-Jew, have never been on the receiving end of comments like these, and therefore, you have a different perspective than I do; you are certainly entitled to your opinion, but you cannot tell me how I feel. 

I've even had students who love my classes and have learned from me for years, but will nevertheless speak in my presence about "the disgusting goyim" and how "goyim don't have souls" or how "goyim were made to be our slaves." Whenever I hear such comments I usually respond, "You know, I used to be a 'disgusting goy.' Are you saying that I didn't have a soul? Was I born to be your slave" to which they respond, "No, Rabbi ______, I wasn't talking about YOU! Obviously YOU are different!" These kids are too young to realize the weaknesses of "the friend argument" (i.e. "I'm not racist! I have friends who are black!"), but that is essentially the argument they're trying to make.

It's no secret that Jewish tribalism and elitism has always "been a thing" in our nation, and has been reinforced by millennia of Antisemitism. This is understandable, and even excusable insofar as it is a natural defense mechanism which is (arguably) necessary for Jewish survival. But the historical reality of Antisemitism certainly does not validate anti-goyim beliefs or sentiments, nor does it justify making anti-goyim remarks in the presence of those of us who used to be goyim.

Reason #2: Minimization of Geirus (Conversion)

When you tell a ger (whether explicitly or implicitly) that he or she "was destined to be Jewish," be aware that you might be perceived by the ger to be minimizing the significance and/or hardship of his or her journey and conversion process. 

There are so many different types of paths that people take to Judaism, some of which are harder than others. I have heard horror stories from gerim that you wouldn't believe, filled with instances abuse, discrimination, and despicable behavior from Jewish laypeople and rabbis alike. Think about what it means to tell a person who has been through such a difficult journey, "Oh, that? Yeah. That wasn't your free will decision, and had nothing to do with your perseverance, or your love for Hashem and His Torah, or your sacrifices you made, or your trust in the truth of your convictions, or your courage. It was in your spiritual DNA. You were basically programmed to follow this path. It had to happen." 

Would you ever say something like this to a veteran who survived a war, or to someone who went through therapy, or to a person who is in recovery from an addiction? These may sound like "negative" comparisons to geirus, but they are apt analogies for those whose path to Judaism was fraught with challenges and hardships. 

Without knowing the full story of the ger to whom you are speaking, making statements such as these can easily stray into the territory of onaas ha'ger (abusing a convert).

Every day, those who are born Jewish make the berachah of "she'lo asani goy" ("Blessed are You, Hashem, King of the universe, Who did not make me a gentile"). I, as a ger, do not make that berachah because Hashem did make me a goy. [1] Let me say that again: Hashem made me a goy, and I chose to become a ger. Don't minimize my life and my decisions by telling me that my soul was already Jewish. 

Reason #3: Falsehood

Since the topic of "the soul" is extremely broad and deep, I will confine my remarks here to a general summary of my reasons for rejecting the notion of a "Jewish soul," and point the way to resources for further reading.

As far as I know, based on my own research and the research of academic scholars I have read on this matter, the idea of a "Jewish soul" is an entirely "Kabbalistic" [2] and/or Chasidic concept. The distinction between Jewish and non-Jewish souls cannot be found anywhere in the Written Torah, the Oral Torah, or in any of the non-"Kabbalistic" works of the Kadmonim [3]. Sure, it can be read into these sources - but if you learn through these classical sources on their own terms, without the influence of "Kabbalah" or Chasidus, you would not encounter any distinction between Jewish and non-Jewish souls. 

Does this lack of sources mean that this belief is false? Not necessarily. "Ee efshar l'beis midrash b'lo chidush - it is impossible to have a study hall without innovation" (Chagigah 3a). Nevertheless, whenever I see a concept which only appears in "Kabbalistic"/Chasidic sources with no basis in the Written Torah, the Oral Torah, or the writings of the non-"Kabbalistic" Kadmonim, then I am suspicious - especially if the concept in question is purported to be a fundamental of Judaism. If there is no evidence that Chazal and the Kadmonim were aware of a particular concept, then at the very least, this means that it is not an essential part of Judaism. At worst, this means that it is not part of Judaism at all. 

According to my understanding of the Written Torah, the Oral Torah, and the writings of the non-"Kabbalistic" Kadmonim, people only have one kind of soul: a human soul. This is the soul that the Torah refers to when it says: "And God said, 'Let us make man in our form (b'tzalmeinu), like our likeness (ki'dmuseinu)'" (Bereishis 1:26) and "God created man in His tzelem (form); in tzelem Elokim He created him; male and female He created them" (ibid. 1:27) and "Hashem-God formed the man of dust from the ground, and He blew into his nostrils nishmas chayim (the soul/breath) of life, and man became a nefesh chaya (living/speaking soul)" (ibid. 2:7).

According to all of the Kadmonim, the tzelem Elokim refers to the human intellect: man's capacity to apprehend and seek conceptual knowledge and understanding. There is no inherent difference between the tzelem Elokim of a Jew and that of a non-Jew. Frankly, I don't even know what it would mean to differentiate between a "Jewish intellect" and a "non-Jewish intellect." [4] 

The distinction between Jew and non-Jew is a legal one - not metaphysical one. In other words, "Jew" and "non-Jew" are halachic labels, indicating the particular system of Divine law by which one is legally bound. A Jew is someone who has entered into the covenant of Torah - whether by birth or by conversion - and is legally obligated to keep the system of Taryag mitzvos (613 Commandments). Non-Jews, on the other hand, are only obligated to keep the Sheva Mitzvos Bnei Noach (Seven Noahide Commandments), which have been binding on all humans since the time of Noach, and which were "renewed" with the giving of Torah at Sinai. [5] 

Maybe someday I'll write a post in which I compile sources from the Kadmonim which state these points explicitly, alongside a list of the "Kabbalistic"/Chasidic sources which assert a metaphysical distinction between the souls of Jews and non-Jews. However, as I pointed out in my disclaimer, this is a polemical post - not a dialectical one. Suffice it to say, the burden of proof is on the "Kabbalists"/Chasidim to show that their belief has its source in the Mesorah (or to show that their belief is valid despite not having a source in the Mesorah). 

[Incidentally, if you would like to peruse a fairly comprehensive list of sources from both sides, check out The Soul of a Jew and the Soul of a Non-Jew, by Hanan Balk, published in Hakirah. This article also does a great job of illustrating why I consider the belief in "Jewish souls" to be harmful, dangerous, and repugnant.]

There is only one of the Kadmonim who, at first glance, might seem to hold that Jews and non-Jews have different souls: R' Yehuda ha'Levi. In his famous work, "the Kuzari," R' Yehuda ha'Levi [6] writes that only Jews possess the "Inyan ha'Elohi" ("divine quality") - a metaphysical quality which allows Jews to become prophets. Non-Jews do not have the Inyan ha'Elohi. Not only that, but even gerim lack the Inyan ha'Elohi; our conversion doesn't endow our souls with this special quality that only born-Jews possess.

Much has been written about R' Yehuda ha'Levi's view on this matter, but for the purposes of this post we are only interested in one thing: Does this view of Inyan ha'Elohi imply that the souls of Jews and non-Jews are inherently different? The answer is: no. R' Yehuda ha'Levi clearly held that Jews are born with a special quality which non-Jews lack, but their souls are fundamentally the same. Professor Menachem Kellner expressed this eloquently in his book, Maimonides' Confrontation with Mysticism:

It is important to emphasize: Halevi does not affirm that Jews differ biologically from non-Jews, that Jews have special souls, or that Jews are a species apart. He does not hold that non-Jews are any less created in the image of God than are Jews. He maintains that Jews have a special property (the potential to become prophets) lacking in non-Jews. This property is in some fashion (never explained by Halevi) transmitted through lineage. 

[For a detailed exposition and clarification of R' Yehuda ha'Levi's view, I recommend Professor Norman Strickman's article Misrepresenting Rabbi Judah Ha-Levi.]

The bottom line: I will continue to maintain that the Kadmonim did not recognize any difference between the soul of a Jew and that of a non-Jew, until someone shows me that I am incorrect. The only difference between a Jew and a non-Jew is obligation in mitzvos. Our souls are inherently the same. [7]

Jews and Non-Jews: A Common Soul, and a Common Path

I'd like to end this post on a more positive note.

Because Jews and non-Jews have the same human soul, we share a common path. As we said before, the Torah that Hashem gave through Moshe Rabbeinu was intended for Jews and non-Jews alike; the only difference is which system of mitzvos we are legally obligated to keep. According to Judaism, a righteous non-Jew has a portion in the World to Come. [8] Not only that, but a non-Jew is capable of reaching the same spiritual heights as a Jew. Adam ha'Rishon, Shem, Eiver, Chanoch, Noach, and Avraham Avinu were all non-Jews - yet, all of them were able to achieve high levels of closeness to God. The Gemara says (Sanhedrin 59a):

R' Meir says: How do we know that even a non-Jew who involves himself in the study of Torah is equal to a Kohen Gadol (High Priest)? As it is stated, "[You shall observe My decrees and My laws,] which man shall carry out and by which he shall live" (Vayikra 18:5) - it does not say, "Kohanim, Levites, and Israelites" but man. From here we learn that even a non-Jew who involves himself in the study of Torah is equal a Kohen Gadol.

The Rambam [9] codifies this principle at the end of his discussion about the special role of Shevet Levi (the Tribe of Levi). He writes:

Why didn’t the Tribe of Levi merit in the inheritance of the Land of Israel and its spoils along with their brethren? Because they are set aside to serve Hashem and to minister to Him and to teach His upright ways and righteous laws to the masses, as it is stated, “They shall teach Your laws to Yaakov and Your teachings to Israel” (Devarim 33:10). 

Therefore, they are separated from the ways of the world. They do not go to war like the rest of Israel, nor do they receive an inheritance, nor do they acquire for themselves with their bodily power, but rather, they are the legion of Hashem, as it is stated: “Bless, O Hashem, His legion” (ibid. 33:11), and He, Blessed is He, provides for them, as it is stated: “I Am your Portion and your Inheritance” (Bamidbar 18:20).  

Not only the Tribe of Levi, but each and every member of humanity whose spirit generously moves him and whose understanding of his knowledge [of all existing things causes him] to separate himself to stand before Hashem to minister unto Him and to serve Him in order to know Hashem, and to walk with uprightness as God made him, removing from his neck the yoke of the many calculations which people seek – he becomes sanctified as holy of holies. God will be His portion and heritage forever and ever, and He will provide what is sufficient for him in this world like He provides for the Kohanim and the Levites. And thus David declared: “Hashem is the lot of my portion; You are my cup; You support my lot” (Tehilim 16:5). 

This halacha is predicated upon the fact that Jews and non-Jews possess the same tzelem Elokim, and are drawn to the truth in the same way, as the Rambam [10] writes in Hilchos Teshuvah:

He instilled within them the capacity to learn and to understand - for this tendency is present in every man, that the more he is drawn after the ways of chochmah (wisdom) and tzedek (righteousness), the more he desires them and pursues them. 

Yes, it is true that our nation has a special status among the nations of the world. Nevertheless, our national identity as "the Chosen People" does not indicate any inherent superiority on our part, nor does it imply that Jews have different souls. Rather, it is a reference to our role in humanity: to be "a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Shemos 19:6), to teach mankind to fear and love Hashem. 

It is for this reason that the prophets promise that one day, all of humanity will be united by our pursuit of knowledge of Hashem, which stems from the tzelem Elokim within each and every human being. "For the earth will be filled with knowledge of Hashem, as water covers the sea bed" (Yeshayahu 11:9). "On that day, Hashem will be One and His Name will be One" (Zechariah 14:9).

[1] To my knowledge there is no non-"Kabbalistic" halachic view which maintains that a ger should make the berachah of she'lo asani goy. If anyone knows of such a view, please let me know.

[2] I have chosen to write the word "Kabbalistic" in quotation marks so as not to enter into the dicey analysis of which so-called "kabbalistic sources" are authentic, which are innovations, and which are fabrications. All I mean by "Kabbalistic" (with quotation marks) is that the proponents of these works consider them to be Kabbalistic. 

[3] By "Kadmonim" I am referring to the Geonim, Rishonim, and early Achronim. These Kadmonim include, but are not limited to: Rambam, R' Avraham ben ha'Rambam, Rav Hai Gaon, Saadia Gaon, Ramban, Ibn Ezra, Ralbag, Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda, Rif, Sforno, Rashba, Rashi, Baalei Tosafos, Ritva, Radak, Rashbam, R' Yosef Albo, R' Yehudah ha'Levi, Meiri, Avudarham, Raavad, Ran, Rabbeinu Yonah, Sefer Ha'Chinuch, Abravanel, Chazkuni, Rabbeinu Bachye ben Asher, Rosh, Tur, and more. See my post Neglecting the Thinkers of the Past for more details on this group.
[4] It can be argued that there are "Jewish types of thinking" (e.g. Talmudic analysis, Scriptural analysis in accordance with the principles of Torah she'baal Peh), and one can even try to argue that there are quantitative differences between the intellects of Jews and non-Jews (though I personally don't buy this), but these are a far cry from claiming that there is a qualitative difference between a Jewish intellect and a non-Jewish one.
[5] Taryag is a regimen designed to bring those who practice it properly to true human perfection, whereas the system of Sheva Mitzvos Bnei Noach is designed to keep mankind from descending to the level of animals, thereby granting them the opportunity to pursue human perfection on their own, or with the aid of the Torah regimen.

[6] Rabbeinu Yehuda ha'Levi, Kuzari 1:95

[7] There is also an ideological definition of Jew, as defined by the first mishnah in the 10th chapter of Sanhedrin, whose meaning and implications are heavily debated by the meforshim (commentators). This definition of Jew is even narrower than the halachic definition. In other words, there are a significant number of people who are halachic Jews (i.e. they are obligated to keep Taryag), but are not considered a part of the Jewish people (i.e. they do not hold by the foundational ideas that define the people "Israel"). This is a separate topic, but I thought it would be worthwhile to mention in passing.

[8] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Shoftim, Hilchos Melachim 8:11

[9] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zeraim, Hilchos Shemitah v'Yovel 13:12-13

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

Parashas Vaeschanan: Which Souls Were at Sinai?

In truth this is more of a dvar Torah on Parashas Nitzavim. I was going to save this for Parashas Nitzavim itself, but that time of year is usually occupied with other important ideas to write about, so I decided to go for it this week. 

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Artwork: Spectral Gateguards, by Wayne England

Parashas Vaeschanan: Which Souls Were at Sinai?

The Impetus for This Post

Earlier this week I participated in a Facebook discussion on the various forms of subtle discrimination against geirim (converts) which persist in the Jewish community. I mentioned that one of my personal pet peeves is when born-Jews hear that I am a ger and say something like, "Your neshamah (soul) was definitely at Sinai!" I casually remarked that I don't believe in "Jewish souls" (a topic I intend to write about next week), and even if I did, I don't believe that the souls of geirim were present at Maamad Har Sinai (the Revelation at Sinai).

In response to this statement someone asked, "So you don't believe that your soul was at Mt. Sinai with all the other Jewish souls (including those of geirim), when the Torah was given?" to which I replied with an emphatic: "No - nor do I believe that the souls of all Jews were at Sinai."

That's when I decided to write a blog post on this topic. 

Souls at Sinai

In Parashas Nitzavim the Torah says: 

"Not with you alone do I seal this covenant and this imprecation, but with whoever is here, standing with us today before Hashem, our God, and with whoever is not here with us today." (Devarim 29:13-14)

The Abravanel [1] raises a major question:

Who gave the Dor ha'Midbar (Generation of the Wilderness), who stood at Har Sinai, the power to obligate their children who would come after them by saying, "naaseh v'nishmah - we will do and we will obey" (Shemos 24:7), thereby causing [their offspring] to enter into the covenant with Hashem and making them swear upon their souls that they would not violate it forever, to the point where they obligated them in all the words of the Torah and the covenant which they sealed, and to punish their offspring after them?

My students often ask this question in a slightly different way: "Why don't we get a choice whether or not to be Jewish? How is it fair that our ancestors accepted the Torah for us?"

We will not take up the Abravanel's answer to this question in this post. My apologies for those who were interested in what he has to say. The only reason I brought up the Abravanel's question is so that I can quote his refutation of the incorrect answer he's heard. He writes: 

It is not proper to allow ourselves to be appeased by what the Early Sages (of blessed memory) said, that all of the souls who would ever exist until the end of all generations  - all of them were at Sinai, and all of them affirmed and accepted this covenant [upon themselves] with an imprecation and an oath. 

Why doesn't the Abravanel accept Chazal's answer at face value? He explains:

It is difficult for the intellect to believe this. How could there be souls [that were present at Sinai] without bodies? Mitzvos are only obligatory upon a soul combined with a body, which we refer to as "man," as it is stated: "that man should do [the mitzvos] and live by them" (Vayikra 18:5). And the dead are free [from obligation in mitzvos], because when their souls separate from their bodies, they are no longer "man." Moreover, mitzvos are a chovas ha'guf (obligation that is incumbent upon the person himself), and we cannot obligate someone who isn't present. 

It's also not enough to answer like the one who says that this group of 600,000 people included all [possible] forms and appearances and all possible [personality] dispositions, and from that point and onward, it is impossible to find a person in the latter generations whose appearance and form were not present [at Sinai] in body and in soul. This would not explain how any man could have sworn an oath at Har Sinai. 

It is difficult for the intellect to accept [these answers], and they are conceptually and inherently weak.

Undoubtedly, the Abravanel's dismantling of this answer will be jaw-dropping for those who have been raised to take this midrash literally. This is a great example of how quick people are to unthinkingly embrace midrashic explanations which cater to the imagination. The difficulties raised by the Abravanel are obvious: How can souls be "present" without bodies? How can a bodiless soul accept mitzvos which were given to human beings? How could such an oath be halachically binding? Yet, these questions don't even occur to most people because the notion of all Jewish souls gathered at Sinai - past, present, and future - is so emotionally appealing.

Before we attempt to figure out what Chazal meant, let's review the major sources inside.

The Midrashim

As far as I can tell, there are three major sources of the notion that "all Jews were at Sinai" in the classic midrashic literature. The first two sources are very similar, and will be examined as one; the third midrash has a different focus, and will be addressed later.

The first source can be found in Shemos Rabbah 28:6:

"And God spoke all of these words, saying etc." (Shemos 20:1). R' Yitzchak said: Everything that neviim (prophets) would prophesy in future generations was received at Har Sinai, for Moshe said to Israel: "with whoever is here, standing with us today before Hashem, our God, and with whoever is not here with us today." It does not say "whoever is not standing here with us today," but "whoever is not with us today." These are the souls that would be created in the future, which do not have substance, and therefore cannot be said to "stand." Even though they were not present at that time, each and every one of them received what was his ... and even the chachamim (wise men) in each and every generation received what was his at Sinai.

A cursory reading might lead one to jump to conclusions: "Ha! You see? Even those souls who were yet to be created were present at Sinai, even though they didn't have bodies!" But upon careful reading we see that Chazal make a distinction: these unborn souls "were not present at that time," and yet, "each and every one of them received what was his" - just as all future neviim received their prophecies, and just as all future chachamim received their wisdom. This needs to be understood. What do Chazal mean? You're telling me that all nevuah and all chochmah was given at Sinai?

To further complicate things, there's a sparser version of this midrash in Midrash Tanchuma (Nitzavim 8) which states:

"not with you alone (Devarim 29:13) - but even the future generations to come were present [at Sinai], as it is stated, "with whoever is here, standing with us ... and with whoever is not here with us today." Why did it say "whoever is here" and "whoever is not here"? Because all souls were there, but the body [corresponding to each soul] had not yet been created; therefore, it didn't say "standing."

This is probably the source that the Abravanel was referring to, since it mentions the issue of souls without bodies. And this midrash explicitly states that all future souls were actually present at Sinai, without bodies.

Nevertheless, we see that this didn't stop the Abravanel from disagreeing. He didn't accept this midrash at face value, due to the difficulties he enumerated.

The question for us is: What do these midrashim mean? Unless you believe that unborn souls can float around at Har Sinai, accept mitzvos, and enter into legally binding oaths and covenants, then what idea are Chazal teaching us in these cryptic statements?

The Idea

I discussed this question with my Mishlei rebbi this morning. He said he'd have to think about it some more, but he gave me his first impression. He suggested that Chazal are teaching a fundamental idea: the basis for our acceptance of the Torah is the Revelation at Sinai, and this basis is open and accessible to all human beings. When Hashem told 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" (Shemos 19:9), He was acknowledging that the Revelation at Sinai would serve as a rational basis for accepting nevuas Moshe (Mosaic prophecy) for all people, in all future generations.

At first I dismissed this interpretation as being overly simple. I thought: "Really? These midrashim are just telling us that Sinai is for everyone? That's it?"

But then I realized the profound implications of this idea. In other religions, the basis of acceptance is only accessible to a select group. In some cases it is the individual priests or prophets who have a special relationship with the god(s) or spirits, and the average person can only connect to the divine through these elite leaders. In other cases the average person must undergo a special "spiritual experience" or attain a transcendental state to establish a foundation for their faith. 

In Judaism, however, the basis of our acceptance is open to everyone with a tzelem Elokim (intellect). There is no special spiritual experience, no listening to mystical inner voices, and no blind faith or divine grace - just the human mind. Using the same criteria by which we evaluate all secondhand knowledge and all historical events, we can rationally demonstrate the historicity of the Revelation at Sinai - and with it, all the contents of Torah.

This also explains what the midrash means when it says that all prophecies of the neviim and all wisdom of the chachamim was given at Sinai. The Rambam [2] and the Ramban [3] explain at length that the only reason we accept other people as neviim is because of the criteria spelled out in the Torah. In other words, we only accept someone as a navi because of the Revelation at Sinai. It is in this sense that all nevuah was "given" at Sinai, since Sinai is the only reason we accept any subsequent nevuah.

So too, the chochmas ha'Torah (Torah wisdom) that our chachamim possess is predicated upon the acceptance of the Revelation at Sinai. When the midrash says "chochmah" it's not talking about the type of chochmah that can be derived outside of Torah - as Chazal say: "If someone tells you that there is chochmah among the goyim, believe him" (Eichah Rabbah 2:13). Rather, the "chochmah" that our midrash is referring to is specifically chochmas ha'Torah, which we only accept because of Sinai. 

This also explains the midrashic sources which use our pasuk in Nitzavim to explain the inclusion of geirim in the acceptance of Torah. For example, the Tosefta (Sotah 7:5) says:

We only [have a proof that] "you [Jews]" accepted Torah. How do we know that the generations that will come after you and convert are also included? Because it is stated: "Not with you alone [do I seal this covenant]" but "with whoever is not here with us today."

One can imagine a religion in which native born Jews are considered to have a special connection to Hashem because their ancestors stood at Sinai, but geirim are relegated to a lower status. That is not how our religion works. When it comes to the Revelation at Sinai and the acceptance of the Covenant, the Jew and the ger are on equal footing.

While this doesn't answer the Abravanel's question about how our ancestors could have accepted the Torah to obligate future generations, it does provide a good explanation for the notion that "all future generations of Jews were present at Maamad Har Sinai."

Snake at Sinai

Another midrash about who was present at Sinai appears in several places in the writings of Chazal (Yevamos 103b, Avodah Zarah 22b, Yalkut Shimoni Bereishis 28, and more). The most complete version can be found in Shabbos 145b-146a:

Why are idolaters mezuhamim (lustful / sexually unrestrained)? Because they didn't stand at Har Sinai, for at the time that the nachash (snake) approached Chava it injected zuhamah (lustfulness / lack of sexual restraint) into her. As for the Jews who stood at Sinai - their zuhamah departed; as for the idolaters who did not stand at Sinai - their zuhamah did not depart. Rav Acha the son of Rava asked Rav Ashi: "What about the geirim?" He responded: "Even though they weren't there, their mazalos (lit. "constellations" or "natural forces") were there, as it is written: 'with whoever is here, standing with us today before Hashem, our God, and with whoever is not here with us today' (Devarim 29:14)."

Note that this midrash differentiates between Jews who WERE at Sinai (or whose ancestors were at Sinai), and geirim, who were NOT at Sinai. If it were true that geirim have Jewish souls, or that the souls of geirim were at Sinai, then the midrash wouldn't need to say that the mazalos of geirim were at Sinai (whatever that means). Either the Gemara wouldn't have mentioned geirim at all (since they would be included with the rest of the Jews), or it would have simply said that the neshamos (souls) of geirim were at Sinai.

The interesting thing about this midrash is that it isn't dealing with the topic of kabbalas ha'mitzvos (acceptance of the commandments), or Hashem's covenant with the Jews. Rather, the midrash is dealing with the difference in dispositions between Jews and idolaters insofar as sexual immorality is concerned. The version of this midrash in Avodah Zarah 22b follows it up by listing deviant sexual practices which were common among idolaters but not found among the Jewish people. It is in this context that the Gemara raises the question about geirim: What about people who descended from idolaters, but have joined the Jewish people? Do they partake of this strain of zuhamah or not - and if not, then how did they remove it? What idea is this midrash teaching us?

The premise of this midrash is that zuhamah has been a part of human nature ever since the cheit of Adam and Chava. [4] When the midrash says that the nachash injected zuhamah into Chava, this is a reference to the transformation of human nature which occurred as a result of the cheit (sin), as I wrote about in Adam ha'Rishon and Tishah b'Av. As a result of this transformation, human beings became encumbered by an overpowering sexual taavah (lust), which was strengthened by the desires and fantasies that resulted from the cheit. 

On the basis of this understanding, a friend of mine suggested the following interpretation:

Jews have an inherent edge over non-Jews in controlling taavah because of the impact Torah has on our lives by bringing us an awareness of God (I think that's what it means "who stood at Har Sinai"). The Gemara is trying to figure out how it is possible that geirim even exist. How is it possible that some people are drawn to Torah without having the structure of Torah built into the fabric of their family lives (i.e. Mesorah) like we do?

The answer to this question must be that God made it that even non-Jews were endowed with a faculty that can be attracted to truth. So although they didn't "stand at Har Sinai" themselves and are not the direct beneficiaries of a built in system of Torah, they were given a faculty that has the potential to be attracted to Torah. Maybe that's it means that their mazal was there - mazal as in constellation/nature.

I don't know whether this is a valid interpretation of "mazal" (since I understood "mazal" to refer to specific external conditions which affect human behavior, rather than the nature of man as a tzelem Elokim), but I definitely like the approach.

Conclusion

The misguided belief that "all Jewish souls - even the souls of geirim - were at Sinai" is as prevalent (if not more prevalent) than knowledge of what the pesukim say happened at Sinai. I find this to be very sad. This belief perpetuates false ideas about the soul, solidifies harmful prejudices against geirim, and sets students up for midrashic betrayal. Worst of all, it dilutes the potency of Maamad Har Sinai by infusing the Torah's historical account with a mythological aura. The more the popular conception of Maamad Har Sinai deviates from the account stated in the pesukim, the more endangered the proof of Torah mi'Sinai becomes.

Some popular midrashim do little harm, and should be left alone. Not this one. Even if we don't understand what Chazal were teaching in these midrashim, the Abravanel's objections should be popularized to counteract the prevailing view.

[1] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Devarim: Questions on Parashas Nitzavim

[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah Chapter 8

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Devarim 13:2-4

[4] It is interesting to note that according to this midrash, the zuhamah was injected into Adam and Chava before she ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad. This fits in with our understanding of the cheit, and how it affected mankind.

Mishlei 19:18 - Childish Parenting (and a Teaching Tip)

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Childish Parenting (and a Teaching Tip)

משלי יט:יח

יַסֵּר בִּנְךָ כִּי יֵשׁ תִּקְוָה, וְאֶל הֲמִיתוֹ אַל תִּשָּׂא נַפְשֶׁךָ:

Mishlei 19:18

Discipline your son, for there is hope; do not let yourself be swayed by his protest. 

This pasuk and its questions are fairly straightforward:

(1) Why does the reader of this pasuk need to be told "for there is hope"? Why would he or she think that there is no hope?  

(2) Similarly, why does this parent need to be told "do not let yourself be swayed by his protest"? Why would he or she be swayed by the child's protest? 

(3) What is the unifying idea of this pasuk? It is clear that the subject of our pasuk has something to do with the reasons why parents are reluctant to discipline their children. But are these to be understood as two "random" reasons why a parent might refrain from disciplining his or her child, or is there a more specific subject which dictates Shlomo ha'Melech's selection of specifically these two reasons? 

[Thinking time! There's a unique challenge presented by pesukim which seem obvious. It takes a certain amount of intellectual dexterity to see past the simplistic, surface-level message of the pasuk to uncover the deeper idea.]

Here's my four-sentence summary of the main idea:

There are only two reasons why parents who desire to discipline their children refrain from doing so: (1) the feeling that the child is already set in his or her ways, and there is no hope that he or she will change; (2) the negative feelings triggered by the prospect of causing pain and suffering to the child - especially when the protests and cries. Both deterrents stem from an extremely short-sighted – and therefore, childish – perspective. In truth, a young child is not set in his or her ways, and there is still hope that he or she can change, although things might seem hopeless at the present; the child’s behavior and personality can still be influenced in the long-run by the parent’s discipline or lack thereof, for better or for worse. The parent’s decision to discipline or not discipline the child should be based on the long-term benefits and consequences – not on the emotional state or reactions of the child at the present, since children are, by nature, immature, shortsighted, and resistant to any form of discipline which involves immediate pain and conflict; to cater to the child’s short-term perspective will only hinder his or her development and emotional maturation.

I am convinced of the truth of this interpretation, with the exception of one word: "only." If I omitted that word from my summary (i.e. "Two of the reasons why parents refrain from disciplining their children are etc."), I don't see how anyone could object to the idea. That being said, why did I choose to jeopardize my explanation by qualifying it with the word "only"?

I have two responses to this question. The first is that I was compelled to add the qualifier of "only" by Question #3. To my mind, if there were many reasons why a well-meaning parent would refrain from disciplining his or her child, then why would Shlomo ha'Melech focus only on these two? I find it intuitively dissatisfying to say, "He just chose these two as examples out of many candidates" or even "He thinks these are the two major reasons, but he would agree that there are others" To my mind, this type of explanation would dilute the chidush (novelty) quality of the main idea.

The second reason why I prefer the riskier "only" interpretation over the "safer," more open-ended explanation has more to do with my approach as a teacher of Mishlei than as a student of Mishlei. Consider how these two possible explanations of this pasuk would play out in a Mishlei class. If I taught my students that Shlomo ha'Melech was giving us two out of many rationalizations that parents use to justify their decision to not discipline their children, then it would be very easy for my students to nod their heads, accept this interpretation, and move on.

By qualifying my explanation with the word "only," this transforms my interpretation of the pasuk into a challenge. Now my students will be driven to debate the merits of the universal theory that I am claiming Shlomo ha'Melech held - something they couldn't do if we assumed that Shlomo ha'Melech was just giving us an idea about particulars. Now a student might object to my explanation, saying, "Wait a minute. What if a mother refrains from disciplining her son because her mother objects to this discipline! That doesn't fit into either of your two categories!" Another student might defend this by saying, "Maybe the 'do not let yourself be swayed by his protest' is actually a broader category, which includes anyone's protest - not just the child's." A third student might ask: "But what about a case in which a father is afraid to discipline his daughter because he has a meek, non-confrontational personality in general? That doesn't fit into either of your two categories either!" to which a fourth student might point out: "In that case, the obstacle is not the parent's belief that the child can't change, but rather, it is the parent's belief that his own personality can't be changed. Both stem from a stubborn view of the immutability of human nature."

As you can see, this type of discussion would lead to a deeper analysis of the subject than we would have reached through the more conservative explanation. Is it possible that my interpretation is wrong? Yes. And am I increasing my chances of being disproven by my students? Certainly. But will the students learn more if I give my more tentative explanation? OH YEAH!

I picked up this teaching tip from my Gemara rebbi. He once told us that he would prefer to give an inferior sevara (conceptual theory) in shiur (class) if that sevara would yield a greater benefit to his students in terms of methodology - even if he would have to retract that sevara later on. The same is true in my Mishlei class: sometimes I will take an approach that is more speculative and less certain if I know that it will lead to more depth, more discussion, more methodology, or more benefit of any kind. And sometimes I won't take such an approach due to the downsides of teaching a less-than-perfect idea to my students. Each situation is different.

Anyway, I thought this pasuk would be a good opportunity to share this methodology point.