'Researcher' and 'ally' – on the question of the existence of the dilemma
2000
Recently, a debate has arisen about the possibility and necessity of incorporating modern research tools and methods into Yeshivah Torah study. The question concerns primarily the philological-historical methods used in Talmudic research ('Hochmat Yisrael').[1]
In a previous article[2] I discussed the goals proposed for the use of the above research methods, and distinguished between two types, which differ substantially from each other: 1. Clarifying the meaning and understanding of words and concepts. 2. Understanding the background and reasons for various halachic statements.
As I wrote there, regarding the possibility of using the first type of use, I believe there are no fundamental differences of opinion, and the question is more technical (what to invest the time in, etc.). In the second context, the problem is more complicated, and involves questions of value and not just methodological questions. I distinguished there two types of engagement with Torah, and through them two truths, the first, which the 'classical' Beit Midrash seeks, which is the eternal truth expressed in terms of the present, and lies in the text itself. And the second, the truth that the study seeks, is the historical truth, what was at the time the text was composed, and what is the context that underlies the activity of the sages who composed it.
Here the question may arise as to how there can be two true interpretations of the same text. I do not intend to ask the question of the meaning of the rule "These and these are the words of the living God" (Bavli Eruvin 13b), which deals with the meaning and essence of a dispute between sages, and many have already discussed it, but rather the question of how there can be two interpretations of the concrete words of the same sage, and both of them are true. This question may seem banal at first glance, and perhaps even unnecessary, but I would like to argue that the lack of understanding regarding this question lies at the foundation of the debate (of the second type in the above division) about the study.
In the present article, I would like to address this question, and clarify its significance and relevance to the polemic about the integration of research methods in Yeshivah studies. In what follows, I will mainly refer to Kahane's aforementioned article, which raises what he calls "the dilemma of a fellow scholar," where, in my opinion, this problem can be seen in all its intensity. In a typological way[3] This is where I will try to illustrate my arguments more concretely.
A. Kahane's position
Kahane's article begins by describing the two disciplines, yeshiva and research, in contrast to each other. The differences are found in the goals of study, its methods, and the basic assumptions that underlie it. The differences in methodology between the two disciplines are described by Kahane as stemming from the differences in goals. In my aforementioned article, I argued that the significant source of the fundamental differences is the difference in the basic assumptions, and not just in the goals, and I attempted to describe and establish some of these basic assumptions.
At the beginning of the second part of his article, which deals with the need and possibility of combining methods, Kahana describes the image of a fraternal researcher who cannot ignore the truth of his findings, and the late author says:
Talmudic research has great persuasive power for anyone who is willing to deal with its findings, methods, interpretations, and discoveries. The validity of many of its conclusions, both general and specific, and the confirmation they receive from various directions, oblige every honest person who believes in critical thinking not to reject them out of hand and dismiss them with the argument, "What do we have to do with this trouble?"...
This secondness, of a scholar of the covenant, who sees himself as the continuer of the tradition, which is the object of his critical study, obliges those who hold to it to reexamine a series of fundamental issues, such as the biblical and Talmudic tenets of faith... the place of sound and intellectual foundations in shaping a religious lifestyle, the faith of the sages and their appreciation, the relationship between religion and culture, the question of Judaism and humanism, the developing encounter between God and man, and more.
At the beginning of the next chapter, Kahane describes, in my opinion, in a clear and concise manner, the basic problematic nature of these dilemmas in the following words:
The sting of the theological and authoritative problems that the religious Talmud scholar grapples with lies, in my opinion, in In his awareness To the subjective and relative nature of the commandments he fulfills. Internalization The conclusions of the study by members of the religious community will make it difficult for them to accept the The authority of Halacha – both that which is implied by the books of halakhah accepted in the past, and that which is determined by the present-day rabbis. This is because of their awareness, which will increase in the future, that these are the words of living people, closely tied to their time, place, and outlook.
Later, Kahane describes that these processes do not stem solely from Talmud research, but from a collection of phenomena, and perhaps a cultural atmosphere that prevails in the humanistic Western world, and so on. This is the dilemma of the allied scholar as presented by Kahane, and it is the subject of our study in the present article.
I feel that this is indeed the crux of the problem that many see in the adoption of research methods in Yeshivah studies in general. A person who perceives the entire Torah work as context-dependent, and as arising from the context within which it was created, cannot feel enslaved to the authority of this relative halakhah. It is important to emphasize here that this is not a question of correct or incorrect interpretation of the texts, which I tried to touch on in the above articles, but rather a danger to the religious image of the researcher that supposedly arises from his use of these tools. It should be emphasized that this is the case even if we accept the validity of research methods as interpretive tools for Torah texts (a topic discussed in the above articles, and see also Lakman).
One may feel that the problem lies on the psychological level, since it is difficult for someone who is aware of the contexts in which halakhah was created to continue to accept its absolute authority, or the authority of the sages. It is important to emphasize that this is not the case; this is a fundamental problem, and thus its strength. If indeed halakhic creation is context-dependent, there is seemingly no room for us to accept its authority overwhelmingly, for two main reasons: a. Our historical-cultural context is different from the context of the previous sages. b. Even for someone who does live in the same context as the sage or the posek in question, a human creation, context-dependent, by its very nature cannot be perceived as having objective and binding divine significance. The sage lived with them 'in their impurity', and of course he is a human being like them and is affected by the same influences as them, and if so, why should his authority be accepted as absolutely binding? This is the crux of the problem that seemingly exists in the research approach.
Kahane's argument leads, as we have seen, to an inability to accept the oleh of halakhah. Accepting the burden is the lifeblood of halakhic Judaism, and such a concession leaves it without a spirit of life.
It is important to note that the entire discussion here is in a situation in which what is changing is the value world of the posak. If it is only a change in reality, it is clear to the rabbinic community that the same halakha itself, when referring to different realities, will yield different rulings. My intention here is to discuss only claims concerning the value plane. If we see in the results of a study that value statements change in light of the circumstances, then and only then does the problem of the researcher being an ally of Kahane seemingly arise. This type of dilemma involves a value change compared to what is accepted by us and our rabbis, and in fact it means reform. Posaks who respond to the changed reality do not raise a problem of principle.[4]
The final part of Kahane's article reflects this problematic in all its severity. After presenting the dilemma of the figure of the scholar-ally, he discusses its aspect concerning the way in which halakhic rulings are made, and the manner in which they are presented.
Kahane's example of this problem is the question of saving the life of a Gentile on Shabbat. The vast majority of the poskim forbid doing so, and their sources are already in the Talmud. The Fathei Teshuvah cites from the Hatam Sofer that it is permissible due to blasphemy and danger to Israel, and these are ancient. Prof. A.S. Rosenthal, whose words are quoted by Kahane there, analyzes this ruling and interprets it as an attempt to reach a moral ruling through creative interpretive means. From this, Rosenthal concludes It all depends on opinion. (Emphasis in the original). Rosenthal's words continue, and he concludes:
And even if he [the arbiter] finds a clear and unambiguous contradiction in the sacred books of the Holy Scriptures, he will not be able to rest and be quiet until he knows how to discover, in the treasures of the rich and varied halachic tradition, the authoritative reference that will bring peace between his mind and his Talmud. And he will even be able to refine it with a competent halachic-interpretative talent. This is the path of the wisdom of the law, and this is its praise. This has always been, and will always be, the path of the sages in their Talmud. (Emphasis in the original).
Kahane, after the quote, expresses doubt whether "this will always be the way of the sages in their Talmud." For the answer, this has never been, and probably never will be, their way. As is clear to every rabbi, including Rav Dachad Yoma, the Hatam Sofer would not have permitted this if he could not have justified it in the ways he chose, or in other ways. It is certainly possible that the Hatam Sofer had a moral motivation to find a lenient interpretation, but this would have had to be a reasonable interpretation. Rosenthal's intention in his words may have been define Wise people act like this, and not Give a description Of the path of those who are usually called Torah and Halacha scholars, otherwise I don't understand how he came to such a conclusion, especially based on an example that says the opposite.
Kahane himself is not satisfied with what his teacher proposes. He criticizes the proposal for making the authority of the halakha ridiculous in this way. The sage does what he wants, and then takes care to base his words on dubious sources. The reference does not improve the public's trust in his rulings, but perhaps even harms them. As he says there: "The enlightened public will sense the insincerity of the process."
Kahana completely agrees that this is how the ruling should be, and its achievement is only in the way things are presented. The presentation is not convincing. Even speaking in a double language, which is addressed to educated individuals and the masses, is in his opinion almost impossible today for the same reason. Therefore, Kahana suggests saying things clearly in an approach that he calls: conscious innovation. Saying explicitly that the ruling is different from the sources, and not trying to base the ruling on dubious references. This, Kahana argues, will also improve the status of the Torah among the enlightened public of our time.
As mentioned, the assumption of both Rosenthal and Kahane, regarding the ruling of the Hatam Sofer, assumes that he ruled in this way for reasons of humanism, and only presented a halachic basis (reference, in Kahane's language) in order to leave this ruling within the realm of accepted halachic law.
These assumptions can be challenged by countless examples of agunot and mazars, and the like, for which no appropriate halakhic-'moral' solution has been found, and yet not a single rabbinic authority suggests changing the halakhic law on these and similar issues. From Kahana's words it appears that the ruling on these issues should indeed be changed, and even explicitly stated so. In fact, this is the accepted Reform approach, and there is not much innovation in it. Kahane's main innovation is the assertion that such a position is imposed on every allied scholar., meaning that the assumptions or results of the study, which have great persuasive power, indicate that this is what should be done.
First, I don't see why Kahane calls his approach 'integration'. How is the theoretical-Yeshivah study, or traditional jurisprudence, integrated into such a picture? Kahane proposes to solve the dilemma of the scholar-ben-brit, by adopting the left-hand corner of the dilemma, namely, to be a 'scholar' (which in his Reform terms means), and to give up being a 'ben-brit' (I mean only in the sense that Kahane himself used, loyalty to Halacha of course).
My little self, despite being a believer in Yeshivah studies and not in the use of research methods (see my principled objection in my above articles), finds it necessary to argue that this conclusion is invalid. There is a logical gap between Kahane's assumptions and his conclusion that indicates the existence of another hidden assumption. I argue that a person can be a 'scholar' (and not accept my position in my above articles that opposes research as a tool of halakhic interpretation), and yet be a 'comrade', that is, a Jew who fears and is whole, and indeed there are certainly such Jews. I deny the inevitability of the allied researcher's dilemma.
The structure of Kahane's article demonstrates in itself that the research approach is indeed different from the Yeshiva approach in terms of values and not just methods, and in practice it contains some of the problematic nature of the aforementioned dilemma. This is true only in practice, as it is not at all clear to me why this must be so. Why does the first part of the article, which discusses the difference in methods and the possibility of combining them, lead in some way to the revolutionary conclusions in its second part?
The connection between the two parts of Kahane's article is probably based on the claim that the scholar who takes his conclusions seriously regarding the contextual background of the various halakhic rulings and interpretations allows himself to rule differently because the context within which he operates is different from that of those sages, or poskim, who established the halakhic ruling or interpretation in question. This is the dilemma we described above, and this is probably also the dilemma of the allied scholar that Kahane describes.
Yeshivah-Orthodox Judaism sees the dangers of the research approach in exactly the same way as that presented by Kahane. There is a tendency there to defend against these dangers by presenting a position that holds that the halachic sages are not subject to environmental-contextual influences, but rather that the detached divine mind determines positions in a universal, context-independent manner. In effect, the position is established here that halachic rulings have no fundamental context at all. The context determines only the reality to which the posak refers, but he himself approaches it with a priori tools.
We will now present examples of this type of argument. The first is found in Rabbi Soloveitchik's well-known treatise "Ish HaHalacha", mainly in chapter 6:[5]
When the man of Halacha approaches reality, he comes with his Torah, given to him from Sinai, in his hand. He needs the world for fixed laws and solid rules. A complete Torah of laws and laws shows him the path that leads to existence. The man of Halacha approaches the world, armed with his staff and his knapsack, with his constitutions, laws, principles, and judgments in an a priori relationship. His approach is an approach that opens with an ideal creation and closes with a real creation. For example, what is this like? To a mathematician who narrows down an ideal world, and uses it to establish a relationship between it and the real world…
Rabbi Soloveitchik does not, of course, address the problem before us, but the halachic man who emerges from his description is a kind of mathematician, or rather a natural scientist, whose categories he uses to decipher the world and understand it are a priori. It seems to me that Rabbi Soloveitchik himself does not intend to claim that these a priori structures are not influenced by the world around the sage who uses them (and this is especially true of himself), but there is a significant dimension in his description of the approach we presented above.
A more clear example is found in Rabbi Rabinowitz's book 'Between Years of Generation and Generation',[6] And even earlier, in Rabbi Aspis' book 'On Halacha and Economics',[7] I believe that they faithfully represent the approach of Yeshiva Judaism (mainly Haredi, see the agreements of the various Torah gurus at the beginning of both books).
Rabbi Zevin, in agreement with Aspis's book, writes:
Many different critics and from different angles have risen up against the Talmud, and the equal side of them aims to remove the holy crown from the Halacha and clothe it with the earthly garments of natural, historical, economic development, and so on, etc. As a result, God forbid, the permission – and perhaps also the obligation – is given to each generation, according to its tastes and the conditions of its life, to add to and 'open up' and change and cut back on plantings, etc.
I gave him, therefore, the honorable Lahai Gebra Yakir...who gathered courage and penned the scribes' pen, which he did well to put in a special notebook the nullification of all the claims of the vain criticism of the criticizing 'sages', and with clear and explained logical proofs he showed both the negative side of those who rammed the wall of the Oral Torah with horns, and the positive side of the steadfast stability of Talmudic law, its holiness and eternal existence from Sinai to now.
We see the dilemma, exactly as Kahana presents it in his aforementioned words, and the direction of the solution recommended by Rabbis Zevin and Aspis. The direction is to clash with the scholars over their conclusions, while attempting to prove that there are no contextual influences on Halacha. It is eternal from Sinai to now.
Rabbi Aspis himself writes in his introduction there:
And in order to explain to the reader, in a concise and energetic manner, and to define the true view of the essence and foundation of the law, I say: It is not so, as the critics, the erring and the misguided believe, that the law has been created from time to time, and in each generation according to influences and conditions, but rather that the determination of the law, its forging, explanation and refinement were already done by Hillel and Shammai and by their disciples after them. They were the first to discuss the study of the law, not to make it and renew it, because the law had already been widely and consistently practiced in Israel from ancient times.
Throughout the book, Aspis's goal is to prove that there were no contextual influences on the sages of the generations. Rabbi Rabinowitz, throughout his book, and especially in the last chapter (where he criticizes Rabbi Aspis for not doing enough in this direction, and goes on to discuss additional examples of his own), presents a similar position.
We have learned that the accepted Yeshivah defense against the dangerous conclusions that ostensibly arise from the research approach is the denial of the influence of context on halakhic jurisprudence throughout the generations.
The tendency in the yeshiva world, which I pointed out above, to claim that the sages were detached from the human world around them, and possessed divine intelligence, and therefore their words should not be interpreted from the context within which they operated, does not inspire confidence. On the surface, Kahana is right to claim that the results of the research seem convincing enough to reject such a basic position. Sometimes, contextual influences can be seen quite prominently on the words of the sages, so for the purposes of this article, this position clearly does not seem reasonable.
My argument is that there is an equal side to the attackers and the defenders on this issue, and that is that a research approach obliges its proponent to draw relativistic conclusions in relation to halakha. Both sides are aware of and agree with the dilemma of the researcher being an ally of Kahane. Therefore, on the one hand, Kahane proposes to adopt such a relativistic approach, and on the other hand, Rabinowitz and Aspis propose to reject the conclusions of the research. In what follows, I would like to argue against the conflict itself, or against the agreed-upon connection between research and reform. My argument is that it is possible to be both a 'researcher' and a 'ally' loyal to halakha. I agree that on a psychological level this is more difficult, but I intend to argue that the problem is not substantial, and not as Kahane's statement suggests (as explained above).
In the following chapter, I will attempt to explain why the ally researcher's dilemma is illusory, thereby revealing the necessity of the connection between the two parts of Kahane's article. I will attempt to point out the existence of the logical gap, or the additional assumption hidden in Kahane's argument, and thereby propose a solution that is different from the militant, apologetic, and implausible solutions presented above to the ally researcher's dilemma.
B. Correlations and parallel layers of explanation
The result of Talmudic research of the second type, defined above in Chapter 1 (a contextual explanation of the interpretation or ruling of a halakhic law), usually indicates a correlation between a ruling, or halakhic interpretation, and certain realistic circumstances. As a result of this correlation, the researcher concludes that there is a causal connection between the ruling and the circumstances that prevailed at that time (the context). The ethical conclusion that Kahane recommends is that the validity of this interpretation or ruling is derived from the circumstances that prevailed at that time, and in any case, when the circumstances have changed, the halakhic law that concerns them can also be changed. In other words, according to his argument, from the research method and its results, every researcher with intellectual integrity must arrive at a Reform view.
There are three directions in which such an argument can be attacked. In all three, as I would like to argue, it is possible to challenge (in three different ways) the course of this type of argument, which bases halakhic reform on the assumptions of Talmudic research.
1. The first objection is in situations where the correlation does not indicate a real connection between the context and the ruling, or the halakhic interpretation. In such a case, we do not accept the very research claim, and we determine that the reason for the ruling is not the specific realistic situation that prevailed at the time. This is the direction taken by the apologists above, and see their words for many examples (some of which are certainly convincing).
The basis of this problematic is a fundamental problem that lies in inferring from correlations, which in themselves do not indicate a substantial connection. The philosopher David Yom has already made this claim against the concept of cause in general. If a log always burns when it is in a fire, these facts do not in themselves mean that its presence in the fire is the causal cause of its burning. Based on what we have seen, on a factual level, we can at most determine here the existence of a temporal connection between its presence in the fire and its burning.
Yom concluded that the concept of causality is nothing more than a fiction. This position can be argued against from several directions, and has already been done, and this is not the place for it. In our case, even those who disagree with such an extreme assertion can certainly understand the problematic nature that led to it. Some of the correlations are indeed coincidental and do not indicate a substantial connection, or a causal connection. In such a situation, it is clear that the dilemma of the allied researcher has no weight, and he is not obliged to conclude anything about the relativity of a halakhic ruling of this type.
But this challenge is a matter for intra-research debate, which concerns all branches of empirical science, whether the researcher is right in his conclusions or not. This does not undermine the very problematic nature of a researcher and an ally, if we accept the assumption that there are correct conclusions for research even if they are based on correlations (and not according to Hume's approach).
2. The second objection arises in situations where the correlations that the researcher points out do indeed exist, but the interpretation he offers of this correlation is incorrect. I will illustrate such a situation with an example from Prof. Gilat's article, in his book 'Chapters in the Sequence of Halacha'.[8] The one who claims that Rabbi Yehuda the President determined that the seventh day was at this time was rabbinical out of local constraints of his time.
Gilat reaches this conclusion from an analysis of the progression of the prohibitions of shemitah throughout the history of the Second Temple period and beyond. He claims that the conditional sources there simply state the method, which states that shemitah and other forbidden crafts are in the seventh part of the Torah. From here on, I will quote excerpts from the article that describe the halakhic-historical progression of the obligatory omissions:
Throughout the Second Temple period, when the seventh commandment was observed with extreme severity, there were many opinions that saw plowing and other work in the fields and vineyards as a Torah prohibition and required flogging for them…
Even after the destruction, during the Yavneh period, they strictly observed the laws of Shemita, despite the great loss on which the existence of this mitzvah depended, for according to the sages of the generation, Shemita is a practice of Torah even at this time…
However, due to the difficult economic conditions that followed the destruction, the number of "suspects of the seventh" and "offenders of the seventh" increased. Initially, the sages tried to prevent deviations from the law by issuing decrees and imposing punishments on the offenders... The increase in offenders with the increase in economic hardship also served as a reason for another decree, the decree of the extras...
However, these decrees, which were intended to close the loopholes in the observance of the seventh, were of no avail. As the economic situation worsened after the Bar Kochba revolt, and the burden of taxes and property taxes increased, this commandment became even more lax. The many difficulties faced by the masses of the people during the years of the Sabbatical served as motivation for the sages to reexamine the foundation of the seventh commandment and its details, to change their attitude toward those who do not strictly observe it, and to respond to the needs of the time and the nation…
With the aim of easing the people's financial hardships in observing Shemitah, Rabbi Yehuda the President, with the help of a halachic midrash based on Scripture, came up with a great rule, that the seventh day at this time is rabbinical.
There is, of course, a difference between a change in attitude towards criminals, which can certainly be context-dependent, and a different status for the prohibitions of the seventh. It seems clear that a statement that the seventh at this time was made by the Rabbis cannot be the result of constraints, but rather the result of an interpretive understanding of this commandment from its sources. Therefore, one can agree with all of the analysis made in Gilat's article, but not with the last part that states that the Rabbis determined that the seventh at this time was made by the Rabbis to make things easier for the public.
The seventh at this time is a rabbinical interpretation, which may have been appropriate for the time in which it was established, but such an adaptation could not have been the reason for his position, unless we suspect him of serious intellectual dishonesty. Can it really be said convincingly that in the opinion of the rabbi it follows from the Torah that the seventh at this time is from the Torah, while he nevertheless rules that it is a rabbinical interpretation in order to find solutions to the economic hardships that prevailed at the time? If one does indeed want to do something for the benefit of the public, one can use the mechanism of regulations or decrees, or temporarily abolish a mitzvah from the Torah, rather than perpetuate a mistaken and misleading ruling. But it would be considered unnecessary for me to cite the sources for the prohibition against adding or subtracting in such a scandalous halachic ruling.
In Gilat we find an approach very close to the aforementioned suggestions of Kahana. According to these approaches, I can decide today that agunot are rabbis, and so are bastards, and so on, and in this way resolve all halachic dilemmas. According to these approaches, it would be possible to simply abolish all the Torah commandments in order to make things easier for the public, and why bother with distorted interpretations of the Torah commandments.
On the surface, this seems to be a situation in which a first-type subversion is at work, meaning that the researcher's conclusions are simply incorrect, and the correlation is coincidental. In other words, there is apparently a dispute here about the research statement itself: the socio-economic situation was not the reason for Rabbi Yehuda the President's regulation. It does seem to me that the historical sequences and correlations that Gilat brings do indeed seem too significant for us to ignore. To the best of my understanding, they do not need to be ignored in order to explain the situation differently.
In the philosophy of science, a distinction is made between what is called the 'discovery context' and the 'justification context' in the stages of creating a scientific theory.[9] There are scientific theories that are born in the researcher's night visions, or in prophetic visions revealed to him, or in all sorts of different and strange esotericism (see Freudenthal's aforementioned book about the discoveries of Kepler's laws in physics). The question of how the researcher arrived at the theory he proposes, which is called the 'discovery context,' is not the concern of science. Science is supposed to examine the result of those visions, that is, the proposed theory, by various scientific and empirical means. This is the 'justification context,' and it alone is the concern of science.
If Einstein had arrived at the theory of relativity following a night dream, or following a religious or secular belief about relativity that must prevail in the world, this would not have damaged the truth of this theory, even for those who do not share that belief. We examine the proposed theory through its conformity to experience, and through various scientific criteria that a scientific theory must meet, and not through the ways in which it was discovered.
In the matter discussed, it can be said that Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi came to examine the issue of the status of the prohibitions of the seventh day due to the economic circumstances that prevailed at the time, and due to his sensitivity to the plight of the public. However, it is clear that the conclusion he reached, which states that the seventh day at this time was rabbinical, must meet the criteria of acceptable halachic interpretation, or rely on some tradition. In the previous terminology, we can say that we are interested in the 'justification context' of his statement and not the 'context of revelation.' The circumstances were what caused him to reveal his ruling, but they are certainly not a reason for this ruling. The Rabbi had to base his statement on the accepted halachic and interpretive tools.
If we do indeed understand the Rabbi's ruling in this way, it cannot be argued that the circumstances caused the ruling, but rather that they caused the renewed examination of the issue. The obvious ethical conclusion would be that even in other circumstances that plague our generation, we can reexamine the various issues, but we will be obligated to justify our conclusions in an intellectually straightforward manner, and not to wrap the conclusions we want to reach in distorted interpretive arguments (as Rosenthal suggests), and we are not obligated to rule as we please (as Kahana suggests).
Therefore, even in a situation of the second type, such as the one discussed here, the allied researcher is not obliged to draw conclusions from the results of his research regarding the relativity of halakhic rulings, but at most to say that the motivations derived from reality are what prompted a reexamination of the issue in question. Reasons for a reexamination of various halakhic issues are legitimate in the world of accepted halakhic law, and simple.
3. The third type of objection that can be raised against Kahane's argument arises in a situation where the scientific explanation does indeed appear to be the correct explanation. In such a case, we would agree that the specific circumstances are indeed what caused that rabbi's ruling. Here, seemingly, a relativistic approach to the ruling is required, and doubting its absolute validity towards us. Here lies the crux of the dilemma of the allied scholar. It seems to me that even in such a case, we do not have to agree with Kahane's above-mentioned conclusions regarding the necessity of adopting a relative position towards halakhic determinations. We will clarify this with a few examples.
Sir Isaac Newton, according to the well-known story, was sitting under a tree when an apple suddenly fell on his head. Newton asked himself why apples fall from the tree, and came to the conclusion that there is a law of nature according to which all two masses attract each other (the law of gravitation). It would seem reasonable to ask why Newton, who was a Christian believer, did not simply explain that the apple falling on his head was the result of some sin he had committed, for which God was punishing him by striking him on the head. It seems that the only conclusion a believer should have drawn from the apple falling on his head was the need for religious and moral self-examination.
It turns out that Newton could have believed that this was indeed a punishment he deserved for a crime he had committed in the past, and yet still sought a scientific explanation for the fall of objects to Earth. These are two planes of explanation that exist simultaneously, and neither touches the other in any way. The punishment imposed on him on the theological plane is physically carried out by the action of the force of gravity.[10]
As another example, we can cite a passage from Oscar Wilde's famous story, 'The Happy Prince,' which tells of the swallow that remained in the cold lands to help the Happy Prince (who was a statue decorated with gold and gems) share his treasures with various needy people throughout the city. After a while, when the cold became very severe and it began to snow, the swallow was about to die from the cold, Oscar Wilde describes the following event:[11]
The strength he had left was just enough to fly up and sit on the prince's shoulder once more. "Hello, dear prince!" he murmured. "Will you allow me to kiss your hand?"
"I am glad that you are finally going to Egypt, my little swallow," said the prince. "You have stayed here too long. Please kiss me on the lips, for I love you!"
"I am not going to Egypt," said the swallow. "My face is headed for the house of death. Death is the brother of sleep, is it not?"
And he kissed the prince on the lips, and then fell dead at his feet.
At that moment a strange explosion was heard, as if something had exploded inside the statue. And the fact is that the prince's leaden shell had split into two. Indeed, the frost was extremely terrible.
I leave it to the reader to decide whether the lead heart broke because of the cold, or because of the grief over the swallow's death. It seems to me that here, too, literary, there are two parallel explanations, both of which are correct and one does not necessarily contradict the other. The heart broke because of grief, and the physical way in which this happened was the inability of the copper to withstand the intense cold that prevailed there.
Another and final example, directly related to our subject, would be the existence of two layers of explanation for human decisions: the psychological layer and the philosophical layer.
When a person repents, secular society tends to ask what happened at home, what crisis he went through that caused him to take such a step. The interpretation will be psychological. Religious society, on the other hand, will claim that he has finally discovered the light of truth. The interpretation will be on a philosophical-value basis. In the opposite case, when a person leaves the religious world ('returns to the question'), the positions will reverse, and independently (?!) each side will replace its previous description from psychological to philosophical, and vice versa.
It turns out that the truth is that most of the value decisions of humans have philosophical and psychological dimensions. Usually, the entire explanation for a decision cannot be placed on just one of the two levels. The psychological reduction, from both directions, is intended in these cases for a society to deal with a step that threatens its legitimacy, that is, it is a way of escaping from real confrontation. When it is claimed that a person repents only because of a crisis, or repents only because he does not want to fight his instincts, these are often partial answers intended to escape from real confrontation with these steps.
In all these examples we have seen a mechanistic explanation (psychological, physical), and at the same time a metaphysical, emotional, evaluative, or other explanation. My argument is that these two levels of explanation are correct, and do not contradict each other. Both exist simultaneously.[12]
To say that the circular's claims in this question are incorrect because the motives for his claim are a crisis at home and the like is an evasion of confrontation. I do not mean to say that these are not the motives, but that there is another layer, and it is precisely this that requires the intellectual consideration of the environment.
In the same way, saying that the law of gravity is incorrect because it is actually God who throws the apple (the church's claims against the scholars), or that there is no divine providence because the law of gravity is responsible for the apple's fall (the scholars' claim against the church), are errors of exactly the same type.
The conclusions of the Talmud scholar can also be correct on the mechanistic level. When he determines that a custom, regulation, interpretation, or ruling is the result of various environmental or psychological influences on the ruling sage, he is certainly likely to be right. There is no point in adopting the aforementioned Yeshiva apologetics. On the other hand, my argument is that this explanation deals with the mechanistic-sequential level of explanation, while Halacha is interested in the substantive explanation. Talmud Torah deals with the meaning of the Halacha that has been ruled, even though it is clear that this ruling also has contextual reasons (psychological, social, economic, and others). The Torah student is interested in the substantive meanings that the ruling itself has, and not the background for its determination.[13]
Examples of the third type of approach discussed here would be, for example, when a researcher points out a different approach by members of the Eastern Jewish community to holy graves, and explains that it stems from Muslim or Oriental influences, while the approach of Ashkenazi Jews is different due to other influences. In this case, we would say that he could certainly be right, but that the different approaches are not examined on a mechanistic level, but on a substantive level. The Torah world will examine the different positions with halakhic-value tools, and not in terms of mechanistic sequences.
A concrete example of this type of reference is found in Akademo 7-8, where Dov Maimon's articles on the influence of mystical-nazi Islam (Zofiyyat) on Jewish Hasidism in Egypt (led by Rabbi Avraham ben Maimonides) appeared. This is a description that is mainly on the sequential level of the event. At the same time, there is also a substantive level (which these articles also refer to), which deals with the question of the significance of this way of serving God. For Torah scholars, unlike scholars, the way of the Egyptian Hasids in serving God should be examined only on the second level. Anyone who wishes to examine whether it is appropriate for him to serve God in these ways should not reject these forms of worship simply because they are of Muslim origin. He refers to them only on the substantive level. This is not a denial of the existence of a Muslim influence, which certainly exists, but rather a (justified) disregard of it.[14]
From these three objections, which I believe cover the entire range of research situations, we have learned that generally when a research conclusion appears regarding the influence of circumstances on a halakhic ruling, this does not concern the halakhic considerations themselves. In any case, this is not grounds for claiming that halakhic rulings are relativistic, and for challenging the authority of the halakhic ruling or the authority of the posek.
This is the logical gap, which I argued above, between the research assumptions of the allied researcher and the conclusion regarding halakhic relativism. The research explanation may be correct, including the assumptions underlying it, but it deals only with the historical development of the halakhic law and not with its essential meaning. The perception of the development explanation as exclusive, and the failure to recognize the existence of another, essential level of explanation parallel to it, is the hidden assumption that underlies the dilemma of the allied researcher from Kahane's school. My conclusion, therefore, is that the problem of the allied researcher is found on the psychological level (and this should not be underestimated either) and not on the essential level.
The conclusion is that it is certainly possible to adopt the conclusions of a properly conducted study (from a research perspective), and this does not necessarily harm halakhic authority, or lead to halakhic relativism. The similarity between Kahane and the above Yeshivah apologists is that both do not recognize the possibility of the existence of parallel layers of explanation of the types discussed above. The above apologists choose to ignore the study, or at most resort to the first type of rejection (debate with the researchers about their own research conclusions, argument 1 above), and in contrast to both, my proposal is to adopt both types of argument 2 and 3 above.[15]
C. Talmudic research and the commandment of Talmud Torah
In my above-mentioned articles, I mainly discussed the hermeneutic relationship of the Yeshivah scholar to canonical halakhic texts, and I argued that in his eyes the contexts within which they were created are irrelevant on the halakhic-Torah level, because the Yeshivah scholar seeks the eternal truth inherent in what is written in the text and not in the author's intention. The canonical text is deprived of the authority of its author and reflects what the Supreme Providence has embedded within it. In this way, I explained the main methodological differences between the disciplines, such as the disregard for philological-historical analyses that seek the original text, because the Yeshivah scholar is not seeking the original text, but the correct text. This is also the reason for ignoring the context, and for the fact that the scholars use terms and forms of thought that draw from the present, even though it is clear to them that the Tan'im, the Amoraim, or the Rishonim did not think in these ways. My conclusion there was that the context that emerges from the study The Talmudic may certainly be correct, but it is not relevant to the 'religious', yeshivah Torah study.
In the present article, I discussed the halakhic rulings themselves (and not precisely the questions of the hermeneutics of texts). My conclusion is that indeed the contextual analysis of the halakhic law, and of the context within which it was created, can reach the truth in the sense of a correct description at the level of the mechanistic sequence of the interpretative-halakhic concept in question. However, here too it emerges that this is not Torah study, since Talmud Torah deals with the essential level of halakhic positions and not with the question of their sequence. This is a different angle of the same conclusion from the above articles. The yeshivah student seeks the essential explanation, and this is the level that providence has embedded within the text, sometimes without the awareness of its author (see my above articles), while the Talmudic scholar seeks the mechanistic explanations for the formation of the various halakhic laws.
It was found that the common conclusion that emerges from both discussions is that engaging in research in the eyes of the Yeshivah student is not necessarily wrong, but it is usually devoid of Torah value.
Such a determination has many significant implications for the question of integrating modern research tools into learning. As we have seen, a combination of the first type (clarification of terms) is indeed a mitzvah instrument for the mitzvah of studying Talmud Torah. The second type of combination, the 'dangerous' one, as we have seen, is not necessarily dangerous on a philosophical level, but perhaps on a psychological level (if any researcher is not aware of the logical gap between the truth of a scientific explanation and the conclusion regarding its exclusivity). Our conclusion is that while this activity is not inherently dangerous, it is not related to the mitzvah of studying Talmud Torah. In fact, it is a branch of research in general history, not of studying Talmud Torah. History deals with clarifying historical sequences, and the motives and reasons (mechanistic) for their formation, but studying Talmud Torah deals with clarifying the meanings inherent in the result of these sequences, that is, the halakha, and the Torah in general, as handed down to us by our ancestors.
The study of the Bible, which has a 'research' character in this sense, because it deals with the clarification of historical questions, derives its meaning as the study of Torah from the fact that the description of the sequences was made by God through Moses, or by prophets and people of the Holy Spirit, the authors of the Bible. There is a very great innovation here, and it is that the historical sequence, when described by such people, takes on the meaning of the study of Torah. This is the way to find substantial meaning in an apparently 'mechanistic' sequence. To learn from this that every historical engagement is of value in the commandment of Talmud Torah, does not seem reasonable to me.
In the same way, it is not said that the study of archaeology, or any external history book that deals with the same phenomena and periods as the Bible, will be considered a mitzvah of Talmud Torah. It will at most be considered a mitzvah of Talmud Torah, if at all.
It can be said that the study of Yeshivah Halacha is, in these terms, 'historiosophy,' that is, a discussion of the significance of historical events in terms of God's providence over His world, etc. Only for study and reflection on this level does Talmud Torah have value.
The conclusion from all of the above is that Talmud Torah is not defined as dealing with a given collection of texts, but rather as a particular way of looking at them (which, of course, also has many shades, and so on). It is perhaps possible to say that looking at other texts in the same way would also count as Torah. In the same way, it can be said that the Torah itself is a kind of glasses through which one looks at the texts (and perhaps also at reality), and not some informative collection.[16] The glasses called 'Torah' reflect to the one who looks through them, that is, to the one who engages in Talmud Torah, the significant aspect of the things he is looking at. Extracting the mechanistic-chain aspect from those sacred texts is nothing more than historical research.
It is important to note here that all of my remarks revolve around the value of Talmudic research as a pure Talmud Torah study. One can certainly see (as even the little me sees) great cultural and national value in these historical clarifications in themselves, even when they are not used as instruments of a mitzvah. Studying the history of the Jewish people, and of Halacha and Torah creation in general, is a very important value, but not every important value can be crowned with the Torah. One must be careful not to mix up the fields.
I will summarize my position by providing practical examples. When the halakha establishes precedence relationships between mitzvot that have implications for the mitzvot of studying Torah, this does not apply to research, no matter how important and valuable it may be. For example, when a person is faced with a mitzvah that is not transgressed, or that can be performed by others (see Rambam, 35:34), then it is forbidden for a person to withdraw from Torah. I would like to argue that if he is engaged in Talmudic research, he must withdraw from it and engage in that mitzvah. Likewise, a person does not violate the mitzvah of studying Torah for himself and his son by engaging in Talmudic research. Likewise, if he wanted to research and his son to learn, his son would come before him (see ibid., 1:34), and other examples along these lines.[17] It is true that I am too small to pronounce laws of this kind, and I am only suggesting to stir the hearts of those who are considering it. As for the practical law, those greater than me will come and decide.
[1] See, for example, Menachem Kahane, in In the ropes of tradition and change, Directions, Rehovot 5750 (hereinafter: Kahane). Daniel Sperber, in alone No. 6, Bar-Ilan University, 1998. Haim Navon, inside entree H., Beit Morasha, Jerusalem, 1959. And my article mentioned in the following note.
[2] "Between Research and Reference: Hermeneutics of Canonical Texts", entree T., Beit Morasha, Jerusalem, 1959.
[3] Typology usually creates a typical type that does not exist in reality, by attempting to 'synthesize' from what is common to all those with the approach in question an entity that is apparently concrete. Kahane's article, in addition to being one of the first to address the problem in question in an orderly and direct manner, and being cited by those who came after him, is in my opinion very typical of the way of thinking that I am trying to examine, and therefore I have chosen it as a typological representative of the research position of the 'allied researcher' (in his terminology). My intention here is not to comment on his concrete article, I am using this article as a representative of an approach, and to which my remarks are directed.
[4] I am aware that sometimes the boundaries between the two situations blur. For example, a ruling concerning Talmud Torah for women, which was established during a period when the status, skills, and education of women were completely different from those of women in the past, is ostensibly included in the category of a change in reality rather than a change in values. Ostensibly, in such a situation, it is said that that halakha does not apply at all to a reality like today's. It is clear that the matter is not at all simple, and there is also a change in values here, and that is all. I would just like to clarify, for the sake of clarifying the discussion, that we are not discussing situations (sometimes hypothetical) in which it is clearly clear that there is no change in values, where there is no problem in principle in saying that the halakha will change in accordance with the new reality, but only in situations that involve such changes.
[5] Halacha man, World Zionist Organization, Third Edition, Jerusalem, 1989.
[6] Between the years of a generation Andor, Rabbi Nathan David Rabinowitz, published by Yeshivat Ahavat Torah, Jerusalem, 1986.
[7] On Halacha and Economics, Rabbi Moshe Ze'ev Aspis, Masora, Bnei Brak, 1976.
[8] Bar Ilan University, second printing, 1994, p. 262, in his article "The validity of plowing and other crafts in the seventh," and also on p. 224.
[9] See, for example, Gad Freudenthal's book, Introduction to the Philosophy of Science, The Open University Course Book, Experimental Edition, Center for Educational Technology, Tel Aviv, 1977. Mainly at the end of Unit 1 (pp. 39-40).
[10] This is a prototype for the solution of many of the problems known as Torah and science dilemmas. In the same way, the creation of the world by God could have been accomplished through the processes of a big bang and evolution. The dilemma of a fellow researcher is actually nothing more than another typical Torah and science dilemma, and that's it.
[11] The Happy Prince, Yavne, Tel Aviv, 1997. Translated by Rafael Elgad. Page 15.
[12] The question, which is interesting in itself, of how this assertion is consistent with the concept of reason as a sufficient condition for the formation of the revolver has no place here. I am content to point to a form of description that most people, at least those who are not determinists, will agree with. It is possible that some will compare this situation to its predecessor, namely that psychological motives caused the person to consider the issue of repentance, or the question, but the decision was entirely philosophical. I think this is an oversimplification, and in fact both dimensions play a part in explaining the decision itself.
[13] In this context, also refer to the above articles and attach them here.
[14] Hence the attitude towards the conclusion that appears at the end of the second article above regarding the positive impact of foreign influences on the world of Torah. For the author, this is a classic approach of a researcher. A (rational) yeshiva student would say that such influences exist, but this cannot be judged solely from the sequential comparison. Each influence will be examined on the essential level and not from the question of its origin. Generally, when there is a trend of adopting ways from outside simply because one wants to be influenced, this is a negative phenomenon. The fact is that there are influences, and we adopt them because they are part of our world. Each of them will be examined in its own right in the first place of the Torah-halakhic test. Therefore, contrary to Maimon's opinion in his above articles, for the author, there is no significance in bringing precedents for foreign influences on the ways of worshipping God, and this is precisely due to the triviality of recognizing that such influences certainly exist. The adoption of these influences was because they seemed to the Egyptian Hasidim to be a proper way of serving God, and not because they wanted to resemble the Muslim Spectators, and if so, we must examine their approach solely on this level.
[15]I would also note that even in the context of other Torah-science dilemmas (see note 10 above), the apologetic attitude of the Church (especially in the Middle Ages, and also a little later) is that science is not correct. There are also Jews who use the same apologetic direction.
My argument in this context is very similar. In this matter too, if science is not right, it is an intra-scientific problem, and is not the concern of the religious person defending it. The solution to these dilemmas is also found in looking at two parallel levels of explanation. There is a scientific-mechanistic explanation, which is correct in itself, and parallel to it there is also the theological-religious explanation. A good example of this is the case of Newton mentioned above.
[16] On this point, many sources can be cited from Rabbi Tzadok HaCohen of Lublin and others, but this is not the place here.
[17] It is clear that in many cases, research also has dimensions of Talmud Torah. It is difficult to deal only with the mechanism of the chain of events and completely ignore the essential content (and perhaps this is because one is not aiming for, or is concerned with, the commandment of Talmud Torah). Therefore, it is possible that these are just theoretical abstractions, but nevertheless it is important for the purpose of clarifying the position presented here by presenting them. In my opinion, they have important theoretical value.