On Style and Substance – Clarifications and Basic Assumptions for Readers of the Website (Column 63)
With God's help
Recently I have received repeated comments about what I have written. People have claimed that it contains heresy and disdain for our rabbis, the medieval authorities and halakhic decisors. Some of the comments concerned style and some substance. In light of this, I thought I should clarify my starting points, my attitude toward the medieval authorities, the halakhic decisors, and tradition in general, and of course my style as well.
This column will be more personal than my usual ones, but it seems important to me to clarify these matters. Let me say at the outset that I am not apologizing for anything, nor have I come to interpret my words, but only to clarify my starting points for the readers' benefit. Of course, if anyone calls my attention to some place where I have departed from what is written here, I will gladly apologize and retract. Readers are invited—and indeed urged—to do so.
Writing in the Internet Age
Writing in the internet age has features that distinguish it from earlier times. What is written is accessible to everyone, it can be partially quoted out of context (cut & paste), and the rapid circulation of these partial quotations can create a distorted picture of what was said. People are not aware of these features—readers and writers alike—and therefore judge things on the basis of partial quotations without checking the context and the larger picture, and without reading the entire article. This despite the fact that the internet also has an advantage in this respect, since today it is very easy to check things directly and read them in their original context. But the flood of information apparently causes people to render judgment quickly and move on to the next site (I assume I suffer from this as well).
Esteem for Our Rabbis
Let this be clear. I have enormous respect for our rabbis of all generations: the Sages, the medieval authorities, and the later authorities. There were true giants among them. Nearly all of them were people of talent and learning, upright in heart and mind, seekers of truth, and possessed of impressively broad knowledge. I am proud to be among the least of their students and a continuer of their path. As for the Patriarchs, Moses our teacher, and the prophets, I find it hard to assess; but the Sages, the Geonim, the medieval authorities, and likewise the later authorities down to our own day are people worthy of immense admiration. No less impressive is the collective enterprise they all created together, and that I, in my small way, hope to join and become part of.
Let me take Maimonides as an example, since one of the comments I received concerned my attitude toward him. There is nothing comparable to Maimonides' enterprise, and I very much doubt whether the entire world offers many parallels to such a mighty, broad, diverse, and original undertaking. Here was a Jew who, single-handedly, managed to reorganize all of Judaism—Jewish law, thought, and the theory of Jewish law—to understand, classify, and reorder all the material that had accumulated up to his time, all while working as a physician and possessing immense knowledge in every field. This is a phenomenon worthy of admiration. The man also showed awareness and reflexivity about his own methodology. He built his vast edifice on a systematic foundation that he himself constructed almost ex nihilo, and he took the trouble to lay it out before us. I have no words to express my admiration for this man, and he certainly has no need of my words. The same is true of our other rabbis, medieval and later, and certainly of the Sages. To think that I disdain him is utter nonsense. Anyone who disdains him is a person devoid of understanding.
All of these are my teachers, from whose waters I drink thirstily, and to whom I am bound by cords of esteem and love. A considerable part of my time and effort I devote to understanding their words through all sorts of tools, and to deciphering their intention and the meanings folded into them. For me, Torah in its broadest sense is existential bedrock. Out of it and within it I seek my way and form my worldview, drawing here too on sources, arguments, reasoning, and all sorts of tools. This is my extended family, and my worldview takes shape within it and out of it.
Our Attitude toward Our Rabbis and Their Authority
But respect for a person does not mean seeing him as an angel who never errs. And love, certainly, should not distort judgment. All these wondrous people were human beings like me and like you, and precisely because of that I respect them, love them, and feel connected to them. I have no relation to ministering angels (if such beings even exist), and I do not see much connection between them and me. My family is made up of human beings.
I have already quoted several times the Magen Avraham in sec. 156, where he brings the Talmudic rule that one may attribute a statement to a great person so that people will accept it when it comes from me. This is surprising, since anyone could say any nonsense in the name of a leading sage and cause listeners to stumble into the gravest sins. How can this permission be understood? I explained that, in my opinion, the assumption of the Magen Avraham is the opposite of what one might have thought. He apparently assumes that when I hear something in the name of a great person, I will not accept it automatically, but only consider it seriously and respectfully. The reason someone appeals to a great person is not so that people will accept his bottom line, but because he feels that his reasoning is not being given proper consideration. The listeners do not seriously weigh his reasoning because they dismiss him. His intention is to lead them to take him seriously, consider the matter, and then decide on their own. Therefore he may present the matter in the name of a great person, because this will lead the listeners to weigh the reasoning seriously. But in the final analysis, the assumption is that each person does what he himself thinks. Even if he hears the words of a great person, he does not accept them merely because of who said them. He considers the things themselves and forms a position about them.
I have already mentioned in the past the distinction between two types of "Chazon-Ishniks": the first type are the ordinary ones, that is, those who actually do everything written in the books of the Chazon Ish. The second type are the true Chazon-Ishniks, those who do what they themselves think, exactly as their rabbi, the Chazon Ish, did and instructed others to do. I belong to the second type. Respect for our rabbis does not mean that I will accept everything they said, but on the other hand I will certainly weigh seriously what they said before forming a position of my own. And with all due respect to everyone, in the final analysis I will think, say, and do what I myself think.
There are, of course, also formal considerations of authority, such as the authority of the Sanhedrin or the rulings in the Talmud that one cannot, as a matter of Jewish law, dispute. This is so even though halakhic and factual mistakes are certainly possible in the Talmud as well (and there certainly are such cases). Authority means that the legal instructions must be accepted despite the mistake. But I have often explained that in matters of thought, which generally deal with facts, there is no possibility whatsoever of speaking about authority. If I have reached the conclusion that the Messiah will not come (and to remove any doubt: I have not reached that conclusion), then even if all the sages of Israel were to rise and say the opposite, that could at most cause me to reconsider my position. But formal authority cannot exist here. If I say with my mouth that I believe with complete faith in the coming of the Messiah, will that change what is in my mind? So long as I am not convinced, I cannot claim that I believe it; I can only say it outwardly. Therefore, in matters of faith and belief, one can only persuade and not argue from authority. Moreover, even in the domain of Jewish law, where one can, as noted, speak of authority, one must not extend it beyond its limits. Whoever has authority has authority, and whoever does not—even with all his wisdom—has none. With regard to his words, one can only be persuaded by them, not accept them merely because he said them.
I have written more than once that autonomous judgment has halakhic value. After a heavenly voice issued in Yavneh (in the story of the Oven of Akhnai), the Sages did not accept it, because although that was the truth, they thought otherwise. They understood that they were mistaken, for God in heaven certainly knows what the law is. But there is an autonomous obligation to rule in accordance with how I understand, even if I am mistaken. And so too the Talmud says that they did not rule in accordance with Rabbi Meir because his colleagues could not get to the depth of his thinking. Although he was so wise, on a level above everyone else, they did not rule like him. Not because the truth was with them and not with him, but because so long as they were not convinced, that was their position, and they were obligated to act in accordance with it, even though they too understood that it was probably not correct.
On Respect and Disdain
It seems to me that the approach that discusses and weighs the words of our rabbis and forms an independent position gives them far more respect than the approach that accepts their words blindly. The approach that assumes they are angels who do not err and possess absolute authority presents them as people unwilling to tolerate challenge and criticism of their position. The second approach, which ostensibly gives them enormous respect, actually assumes that, substantively, their words cannot be justified, and thus exempts us from doing so. A great controversy arose around Maimonides' Yad HaHazakah, among other reasons because he did not cite sources or provide reasons. The sages felt that this was not a way of according respect to the Torah or to them. No one is entitled to demand that his words be accepted merely because he said them. Things said in the study hall (as distinct from the Sanhedrin) are in the nature of proposals for discussion and expressions of a position. And that is exactly what my words here are.
Rabbi Soloveitchik, in his work Uvikashtem MiSham, brings a wonderful description of his childhood experiences. He describes how his father (Rabbi Moshe) sits around a round table with Rabbi Akiva, Abaye and Rava, Maimonides, Rabbeinu Tam, and the Vilna Gaon, and they engage in Torah study. An objection is raised against Maimonides, and he is in tension: will his father and Maimonides prevail or not? He feels himself part of the company, and in fact sees all of them as his family. When I read these words, I understood that my own experience is very similar. As far as I am concerned, I sit around a round table with all the Torah scholars of all generations, and we all study together. I am a participant in that conversation, and I am not prepared to give way to any of them. To give way to someone out of respect is an expression of lack of respect or lack of closeness. More than that: when I speak with family members, I do not watch my words. If one of them talks nonsense, I tell him so. Sometimes I laugh at him and joke at his expense. But all this is done because I feel myself an inseparable part of the group. I am at home, not in a museum that commemorates the past, where one has to be careful lest anything there be broken.[1]
A few years ago, when I taught at the hesder yeshiva in Yeruham, several events occurred that aroused my anger. I put up ironic and cynical posts in which I mocked all of us. The students were deeply agitated because they felt that the yeshiva, and especially its head (Rabbi Blumentzweig), had been attacked. I gathered them that evening in the dining hall and told them that these words had been written precisely because of my deep esteem for the head of the yeshiva. I was angry because people were making a mockery of all of us (including him), and we were following them like fools. I added that someone in a museum walks on tiptoe. He does not want to break anything in this glass house. He wants things to remain whole and pastoral, and to accompany him in his life when he is already far from the yeshiva (in every sense). What will remain for him is a tranquil, pastoral corner that he can long for (theoretically), while staying far away from it. I, by contrast, feel at home, and at home I do not walk on tiptoe. Whoever does foolish things (in my opinion) will get barbs and rebukes from me. He is, of course, also invited to repay me in kind. But these things are said, and arise, out of connection and not out of distance. They arise from love and respect, but those are the result of familial connection, not of a distant and alienated respect for exhibits in a museum.
Thus, in my view, the excessive and unrealistic respect often accorded to our rabbis of all generations actually expresses a kind of disdain. People do not dare discuss their words honestly or criticize them, but that itself points to a tacit assumption that such criticism would destroy the standing of those being criticized. As if they have no answers, and therefore we must spare them. I have complete confidence in them and in their integrity, and in my eyes true respect for their words is shown precisely when one discusses them honestly and sharply. Anyone who is a participant in this conversation—that is, who sits around the table within the group—needs to understand this. Whoever remains outside and sees it as a museum will continue scrupulously guarding the honor of our medieval and later authorities, and by doing so will deny them the respect and love they deserve.
Connection to people brings closeness. Closeness leads one to see them as human beings, with light and shadow. No person is perfect, and everyone has shortcomings, mistakes, falls, and the like. When one is close, one sees all this, and when one feels close, one does not hesitate to point it out. Caution is a sign of distance. It is admiration for a poster hanging on the wall, not life together. With those close to me I joke and sting, poke fun at them, and afterward pat them on the back in friendship and with a wink. The Torah belongs to all of us, and all of us must take part in shaping and forming it. Whoever does not take part in that process has no share in it. He will relate to it like a church: with full respect and at the same time from a distance.
On Style
Here I return to the internet. Things written for a broad audience cannot be said the way things are said within the study hall, that is, within the family. My assumption when I write these things is that the readers want to belong and therefore do belong to this family. They sit around the table in this virtual study hall and are full partners in everything that takes place there. True, sometimes the words get outside, sometimes in fragments, and sometimes people simply do not understand or do not notice the context.
To be sure, my style is cynical and ironic, and I express things with a certain sharpness, but contrary to what people tend to think, cynicism is not disdain. I do not recall a single place where I disdained the medieval authorities, or even the later authorities (perhaps some of our contemporary rabbis, though at the moment I do not recall even that). What I do recall is presenting them as human beings who can err and have weaknesses, like me and like you. Thus, when I say that I do not care whether according to Maimonides I am a heretic, my intention is that the definitions he would apply to my words are not an argument. Anyone who wants to persuade me has to explain where I am mistaken. Therefore it is not enough to tell me that I am a heretic according to the view of so-and-so, and that is why I also do not accept comments of this kind. There is not the slightest trace of disdain for Maimonides in these words, and I clarified my attitude toward him above. After all, Maimonides himself did exactly what I do. He disagreed with his predecessors without batting an eye, including on matters that were considered most exceptional. He forced his logic onto the sources (as Nachmanides showed several times in his glosses on the principles), and in several places he was also dismissive and even mocking toward his predecessors and toward those who disagreed with him. None of this necessarily expresses lack of respect. It expresses involvement and a sense of family. Within a family one speaks freely. That is part of the whole experience of family.
If anywhere there was an expression of disdain toward any of the medieval authorities or great later authorities (as noted, I do not recall one), I invite readers to present it here (preferably with a link). If there are such cases, I hereby retract them. But if I expressed my position in a cynical or ironic way, that is my manner. One should not see disdain in that, because it does not express disdain. It is a mode of expression intended to sharpen the points and the difficulties they contain. I find it hard to understand an interpretation that sees my words as disdain for people whose teachings I have devoted my life to clarifying. For me, the reader of this site is a partner in a study-hall discussion. That is how my words should be seen, and anyone who interprets them otherwise is mistaken and misleads others.
Discussion
These are “the words of the living God.”
I support Michi, who makes a different voice heard, reasoned and intelligent (even if I do not agree with him on everything), and who at least makes life for me (religious? intellectual?) more interesting.
Hello Rabbi,
In my personal opinion, sometimes your style undermines the goal for which you wrote the article/post. Perhaps you see this as sharpening your points and highlighting the irony in the opposing view, but surely you agree that you write in order to persuade others, not yourself. Therefore, the way you understand your own style is important, but I would recommend listening to what readers think about it—and whether it hurts their ability to accept your words, because if so, then you yourself have not achieved your goal in the article.
Rabbi Michi
When you write about the Rishonim in too direct a style, it is perceived negatively. Take, for example, the sentence: “With all due respect, the Rambam and the Rashba do not have the authority to do such-and-such” (Makor Rishon, Shabbat supplement). It immediately creates the impression that your intention is to align yourself with those who demean the honor of the Rishonim.
If you are indeed publishing and writing in order to influence others, and certainly if you want conservatives too to address your words substantively, I suggest that you use language that expresses the respect you feel toward the Rambam, the Rashba, and the other Rishonim.
Hello Yoni.
Indeed, I notice this and will continue to pay attention to it. I will also try to draw conclusions.
With God’s help, 2 Nisan 5777
To Ramda”a—many greetings,
What can one do? If it’s green, jumps, and says “ribbit ribbit,” it’s a frog; if it looks like contempt and sounds like contempt—it is contempt!
Quite often, a blunt and contemptuous style covers for thin argumentation. In the spirit of “One bit of mockery repels many rebukes.” There will always be coarse ignoramuses who clap and shower the mocker with “likes,” thus eliminating the burdensome need to reason, bring sources, and seriously discuss the dissenter’s arguments.
Our Sages and our early and later rabbis stand out for a clean and respectful culture of debate. Just consider: in all twenty-seven hundred pages of Talmudic disputes, there are altogether only about 20 (!) harsh expressions, discussed by the author of Havvot Ya’ir in his well-known responsum printed at the end of the book Chafetz Chaim, and in most of them he explains that it is a rebuke from a rabbi to his student who had been lax in his study.
And outside of a few isolated expressions, an entire literature of disputes is conducted on existential matters, foundations of faith, and severe halakhic issues—and almost without exception, in a substantive and precise style. The use of clean language is what characterizes (at the beginning of Pesachim) one who is destined to render halakhic rulings.
Not for nothing does Rabbi Berekhiah (Yoma 71a) describe Torah scholars as “men,” who are like women—“humble and weak in strength,” yet “perform valor like men.” Avoiding the demagogic device of cynical mockery forces the writer into a substantive, reasoned clarification focused on acceptable arguments, which alone can persuade seekers of truth.
With blessings, S.Z. Levinger
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Hello H'.
This is actually a good example. What here is offensive? I truly think they have no such authority, and that is what I wrote. How should I have phrased it more gently? I even prefaced it by saying “with all due respect” (though perhaps people think that is just a polite add-on like “were I not afraid to say it,” but it is not).
Hello S.Z.L. I’d be happy for links that show me examples that this is green and jumps like a frog, and then I’ll admit that it is a frog. I deny that.
In light of the comments here, I suddenly realized that in my opinion what gets people worked up is actually the content of my positions, not the form of expression. The positions themselves are perceived as insolence (see the example brought above here regarding the authority of the Rambam and the Rashba. That is really an example of sensitivity to content, not to the form of expression). That’s my impression, but I’d be happy for examples so I can understand where I’m mistaken (if indeed I am).
Also regarding the citations you brought, those are statements about the matter, not an analysis of the material itself. There are definitely quite a few examples of much harsher expressions than mine among the Rishonim and Acharonim, and also in the Talmud itself. And even when a rabbi rebukes his student, as you brought from the Havvot Ya’ir, that is not supposed to be done within a canonical text before all Israel. So I find it hard to accept that explanation.
There are also expressions that speak from above about the matter and describe a different picture, such as the sages of Babylonia as a “rod of affliction,” etc. Not to mention Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel, who killed one another, and Rabbah who slaughtered Rabbi Zeira (Megillah 7b). And “any judge who judges such a case is no judge” (Bava Metzia 36), and many more. It was actually our rabbis who did not make much account of sharp formulations. So in my opinion, examining the sources is actually evidence to the contrary.
But I do not see in all this any permission, because even if our rabbis did it, I do not necessarily adopt everything they did or said (according to my approach). I only commented on your words.
Bottom line: I’d be happy for examples from my own words that would sharpen the discussion and allow us to be more concrete.
“I am at home and not in a museum that commemorates the past, where one has to be careful that nothing breaks there”
A beautiful sentence!
More power to you for these words; be strong and courageous!
I think you are right that the content is a central factor in what people perceive as offensive, but style can moderate what seems offensive. If we take the sentence above, “With all due respect to the Rambam, he has no authority,” etc., the content באמת would indeed shock many people, but the style can reduce that. Inserting the word “in my opinion,” and all the more so the phrase “in my humble opinion,” already works wonders—there is no addition of content here (the latter phrase perhaps does add a certain content), but they soften the impression. When one reads the sentence as it is, one gets the impression that you don’t give a damn about the Rambam—after all, if he did something, he presumably thought he had the authority to do so, and from the style one can get the impression that his opinion is not legitimate; adding “in my opinion” gives the impression that his opinion is legitimate, and that you are not trying to throw it out of the field of halakhic opinions as an external opinion (and indeed, you and those who know you know that you don’t want to throw out any opinion but only to discuss them, but not all readers know that), but rather that you think one should not rule that way. Another point—the expression “with all due respect” is often used to mean “I have no respect at all,” and when the writer usually uses sarcasm, of course that makes it all the more suspect. If you want to, you need to invest more in convincing readers of the sincerity of the respect you have for the Rambam, even though that may be tedious.
It seems that your cynical style is due not only to your feeling at home, but also to your devastating critique of postmodernism, which is preoccupied with style rather than content.
Cynicism and mockery do not come from feeling “at home,” nor from anti-postmodern ideology or anything else.
It is a character trait, which sometimes develops under environmental influence at some point in the past or present, or out of lack of self-confidence, which a person covers over by taking honor in another’s disgrace, and by the “attention” he gets through provocative acts and statements.—And I’m not speaking of a cynical remark here and there, but of a fixed style that mocks “everything that moves.”
The cynic is not a happy person. All his life he must constantly maneuver between the pleasure of hurting and mocking, and the constant need to justify himself with sophistries explaining how the mockery is the height of respect 🙂
All we can do is pray for and bless the mocker, that he merit to leave the “Wilderness of Zin” and find his happiness in the good eye, the eye of justice—which is “the wilderness of Kadesh”!
With blessings for a kosher and happy Pesaḥ, Shin Tzin Lin
And I dare to hurl these harsh words only because, in my impression, the one being rebuked is also marked by the quality of seeking truth. To a seeker of truth, one should tell the truth!
With blessings, S.Z. Levinger
Rabbi Michi, more power to you.
Only recently I heard from a friend that the reason the Master of the Universe said “well done” to Moses our teacher for breaking the tablets was that Moses understood that in the episode of the calf, he himself was the problem. He was the one who had “brought them up” from the land of Egypt, and therefore, when he was absent, they needed a substitute. Breaking the tablets broke the spell. What matters is the word of God, not “this Moses.”
Following Rabbi Naḥman, who writes that the students are called teachers, and Rabbi Shagar explains that the rabbi learns the troubles of the generation and the relevant Torah from the students—the students bring the rabbi from potential to actuality.
And let me just add that those writing here are not the view of householders and certainly not ignoramuses, who would not have bothered to write.
And after these preliminaries, let us get to the point. It seems to me that what bothers the commenters is the question of revelation, to which the rabbi has no satisfactory answer. The rabbi speaks truth, and therefore admits that he has no answer, but sometimes just as it is a mitzvah to say things that will be heard, so too it is a mitzvah not to say things that will not be heard.
It seems to me that the rabbi’s assumption is that revelation was a historical event. In my opinion at least, and it seems to me also in the opinion of most of the commenters, revelation is something ongoing. These things are of course not new. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, in his book Crisis and Covenant, writes that the only proof the Torah offers for its truth is that Jews will continue to hold fast to it (I don’t have the book with me, so it’s hard for me to give a source). That is basically also the Kuzari’s proof. The fact that the seed became a tree that today encompasses most of the world attests to the truth of the revelation to the people of Israel (see Micah Goodman’s book on the Kuzari). And finally, of course, the Sages in tractate Yoma 69 write: “And these are His awesome deeds—that were it not for the fear of the Holy One, blessed be He, how could one nation survive among the nations?” The name of God that rests upon the nation arouses fear among the gentiles, deterring them from harming the people of Israel (and if they ask about the Holocaust, the Vilna Gaon already wrote that when the return to Zion begins, the Shekhinah returns to the Land of Israel and ceases to protect Israel in the Diaspora). Revelation in this sense is not a historical matter but an empirical, practical matter that exists every single day.
One could add more and more, but it seems to me that this is the decisive point.
Rabbi Michi,
it is indeed a bit ironic, but in my opinion the wording “with all due respect to the Rambam” is considered patronizing and disrespectful. And in my opinion the simplest thing would be either to write the same sentence without that expression, or to write: “We learned from the Rambam and the Rashba themselves that the Talmud alone is the binding source of authority.”
Words of truth are evident. We will continue to enjoy your writing.
I completely accept that. I even got your interpretation of “with all due respect” today from my wife. It’s true that I really didn’t mean it that way, but now I understand why it was interpreted that way. I wrote it literally.
To Shlomi.
I also completely accept what you say. In a post-mortem analysis of my words, I would also add another aspect of an anti-postmodern motive: it was meant to say that I have a position, and that it is legitimate to formulate a position and not remain with the idea that everyone is right and “these and those,” etc.
S.Z.L., with your analysis of me specifically, I do not agree. But perhaps I am personally involved, and pardon me, I won’t do a post-mortem on myself.
Y.D., I’m not sure I understood this matter of revelation. Do you mean my statement that the Holy One no longer intervenes as He once did? That is not exactly revelation but involvement. Or do you mean belief in the revelation at Mount Sinai? Then what are the two alternatives? What is meant by historical revelation as opposed to ongoing revelation? I didn’t understand.
By the way, when dealing with arguments, one need not remember and bring sources. The argument itself is enough.
Thanks.
I do not think that the endless talk about “my authority to disagree with the Rishonim” constitutes “harm to the Rishonim.” It simply sounds presumptuous and “unsupported”….. …
There is a joke about the son of a Hasidic rebbe who came to the rabbinical court and said that his father had appeared to him in a dream and instructed him to be his successor as rebbe. The judge said to him: Granted, if your father had appeared in a dream to the elder Hasidim and told them to crown you as his heir, there would be room to discuss it. But when he appeared only to you, one may suspect that you are seeing the imaginings of your own heart.
So too we may say:
If the great rabbis of our generation had gathered—the Gaon Rabbi Elazar Menachem Shach and Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv and Rabbi Shmuel Wosner, Rabbi Shaul Yisraeli and Rabbi Shlomo Goren, Rabbi Avraham Shapira and Rabbi Yosef Kapach, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef and Rabbi Mordechai Eliyahu, of blessed memory—and declared that a certain sage is as great as one of the Rishonim and fit to be a “tanna and disagree” with them, we would place that sage as a crown upon our heads. But when a person comes on his own behalf and claims, “I am first and I am last”—it seems to me there is room for some reservation 🙂
Would that we merit to labor and toil to understand the words of the Rishonim in halakhah and aggadah, and upon the firm foundation they laid for us—to build and innovate true innovations!
With blessings, S.Z. Levinger
Thank you very much, honorable rabbi. It is evident that your words come from the heart. But love is greater—truly, truly. First of all, I would note that in order to distinguish between venom and cynicism on the one hand, and accepted Torah discourse on the other, one should take in hand your earlier books, full of sweetness, and compare them to your writing on the site. In dissertations about you, they will write of “early Michi” and “late Michi” (for now), and others will have to write new dissertations, so they will come up with another invention: writing in books versus internet writing. Ah, and the fact that the internet writing also accords very nicely with late Michi? Well, that is unity of content and form, so to speak. B. I would note that most of the findings revealing coarse language are found in your expansive replies and not in the columns. דווקא in tired, multitasking writing you tend to pull the pin without restraint. Look there, and there you will see the phenomenon of “the thug (poetic?) broke loose.” As for our matter, here are several jarring examples, and I cannot detail them all, for they are many and time is short, and I try to be strict about not wasting time:
1. Regarding the ban by Haredi rabbinic authorities (Acharonim?) on owning a smartphone without porn filtering (see the discussion in your responsum there), you tell the questioner to “slack off.” That is not clean language, for all ex-religious people and light religious types. There is no rabbinic answer, however compliant, that would use such language: “My view is that no rabbi has the authority to determine anything. … And even if you belong to a community whose rabbi prohibits it, I still think that the matter is not a wall. If you need it for livelihood or see importance in it, then slack off.”
https://mikyab.net/%D7%A9%D7%95%D7%AA/%D7%90%D7%99%D7%A1%D7%95%D7%A8-%D7%94%D7%97%D7%96%D7%A7%D7%AA-%D7%A1%D7%9E%D7%90%D7%A8%D7%98%D7%A4%D7%95%D7%A0%D7%99%D7%9D-%D7%95%D7%A1%D7%9E%D7%9B%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%92%D7%93%D7%95%D7%9C%D7%99-%D7%94/
There you write that you have no regard for the Haredi gedolei Yisrael (presumably Rabbis Elyashiv, Steinman, and Kanievsky. Your statements against Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky are remembered by your students, followers, and listeners. The question is how far back shall we go before we start appreciating them? The Hazon Ish?? Maybe the Vilna Gaon? What is the rule? Every great figure I have not seen with my own flesh-and-blood eyes becomes a positive myth? But the one who eats kugel and is surrounded by handlers no longer?: “Indeed I have little trust in the rabbis considered great in the Haredi world. I have lost it, unfortunately (or fortunately). I assume these are good people with good intentions, and some of them are also great Torah scholars (though I generally do not much appreciate their mode of thinking), but unfortunately they do not know the world they live in and are led in their decisions by petty, self-interested operatives who are looking for something to occupy themselves with instead of studying in kollel (which is rather boring for them).”
2. Regarding the prohibition of legumes, you testify about yourself that you am careful to “slack off.” You could have said that you do not think one should be stringent, but it seems you enjoy slaughtering sacred cows in the language of contrariness: “I write there that I see no point at all in preserving this custom, and over the years I have been slacking off on it more and more (like most of us), … were it not for them, by now no one would still be observing this ridiculous nonsense.” (!). Ridiculous nonsense?! Which of the great rabbis of Israel, early or late, would agree with you on such an expression, which in effect sets an example for your students to slack off and belittle what they, in their supposedly philosophical education (which very likely neither reaches nor will reach yours), conclude.https://mikyab.net/%D7%A2%D7%9C-%D7%92%D7%96%D7%99%D7%A8%D7%AA-%D7%A7%D7%98%D7%A0%D7%99%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%A9%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%A0%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%95%D7%97%D7%99%D7%9C%D7%95%D7%9C-%D7%94%D7%A9%D7%9D-%D7%98%D7%95%D7%A8-2/
3. With a wave of your keyboard, you dismiss all the prayers of the house of Israel, especially in Haredi centers toward the Days of Judgment, and take the view that treating Rosh Hashanah as the Day of Judgment is “childishness.” All this despite the fact that all the Rishonim and Acharonim understood it that way. Childishness?? Are we all idiots?:
“Today I will comment on Elul… if we admit the truth, this terror doesn’t really awaken in any of us. Repeating this terror all the time only shows that none of us is gripped by any terror… I would like to suggest here a heretical alternative: maybe not? Maybe Elul is a good and fitting time for an annual self-accounting, but terror and fear of judgment are not really in us, and perhaps should not be. The picture as though each person stands in judgment over every detail of his deeds (which he has long since forgotten) probably does not sound very convincing to us. Perhaps it is even somewhat childish.” — Note well: even if you are right, one of the great ways to enter an atmosphere of self-accounting on this very day is to assume—at least as a possibility—that judgment does indeed take place on this day, if only because that is how the day was sanctified in Israel. That is to say, if for Israel Yom Kippur is the holiest, then God too pays attention to this and examines them beyond the letter of the law. That is how myths function, always. And Gershom Scholem already wrote that we scholars of Kabbalah no longer have the ability to innovate in its teachings, despite our expertise, precisely because we no longer believe in it as a living myth. It is available online for anyone interested.
https://mikyab.net/%D7%9C%D7%9E%D7%A9%D7%9E%D7%A2%D7%95%D7%AA%D7%9D-%D7%A9%D7%9C-%D7%A8%D7%9E%D7%96%D7%99-%D7%90%D7%9C%D7%95%D7%9C-%D7%90%D7%95-%D7%90%D7%9C%D7%95%D7%9C-%D7%91%D7%9C%D7%99%D7%98%D7%90-%D7%98%D7%95/
4. You make a Shabbat delight for your students in the yeshiva with cakes and drinks in order to tell them that your private providence is a bluff. :
You take a spiritual custom and with those very tools you try to weaken people in their faith, and this without proof. It reminds one of all those who studied a sugya on Shabbat with a cigarette, or ate cholent in a Tel Aviv restaurant on Shabbat, like their friends in the kibbutzim who engaged in forbidden relations precisely while adorned with tefillin. It is all the same principle: let’s celebrate permissiveness with the very tools of Torah. And on that same matter: just think—you are cold in faith, you have never had spiritual/mystical experiences (one can search for your testimony to this on the site). That is legitimate. But to take hesder boys, who are about to enlist in the army, and the only thing that will comfort them in a trench in Gaza, in the middle of a battle, is faith in the power of prayer, the cry to Father: “Save me!”—that is the consolation, that is the stronghold. But you, with all your learned-philosophical weight, almost enjoy (a Shabbat delight!) destroying the believers’ world—and frankly, without having justified proofs for it. Just because it doesn’t seem right to you. Exactly like all your scientist friends who enjoy waving about that there is no free will (because it offends the sacred determinism) just because it doesn’t seem right to them! This is an uneducational, insensitive, and unworthy act:
“Another story happened to yours truly (prepare the envelopes). One night I was returning in my car with my entire extensive family (I was burdened with a wife and six dwarfs) from a family event… our car died, and as became clear to me immediately afterward, it was not drivable. It was 1:00 in the morning in Gedera, with the whole family (eight people) stuck on the way to Yeruham. What do you do? How do you transport eight people at such an hour to Yeruham, and… don’t worry, the story is only beginning. We hadn’t yet had time to absorb that there had been an accident, and already (!) a neighbor from Yeruham (!) drives by us with a large empty vehicle (!). He stops (!) and takes all of us in, and after we left the key for the tow-truck driver, we rode home with him joyfully and comfortably. Every exclamation mark in the sentences above marks another miracle, as will become clear. During the drive it became clear to us that this man, a local political operator from Yeruham who travels every few days to Jerusalem and knows the road well, had nevertheless somehow lost his way back (!), missed the Latrun interchange (!), and found himself unwillingly in Ramla (!). He had no idea how to drive or where to go (still before the Waze era), and he found himself in Gedera (!). As he passed by us (!) at exactly the right moment (!) his wife said to him, ‘Arieh, here is the Abraham family, stop, maybe they need something’ (!). He told her he saw no reason to stop, because it was not yet clear that there had been an accident and that we needed help (it was literally at the very moment of the event). She convinced him (!) and he stopped (!), and the rest is history (?).
Your faithful servant arrived at the yeshiva in Yeruham and did as is customary in such cases: held a Shabbat delight for his students over bland cookies and Crystal Cola. There he explained to the astonished ears of the listeners that he sees no miracle or wonder in this at all, but rather a completely statistically possible event. After all, there were thousands of people who got stuck at night on the way home and were not saved. There is a small chance that in such a situation one of them will indeed happen to be rescued, so that one was me. What does that prove? It seems to me that mainly the fact that statistics work. As long as I haven’t checked on a broad sample of cases how often people got stuck and were not rescued, I cannot say anything about the probability that such a thing would happen and whether there was anything surprising here (the hand of God, private providence, or dear old mother Rachel).”
https://mikyab.net/%D7%97%D7%95%D7%A7-%D7%94%D7%9E%D7%A1%D7%A4%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D-%D7%94%D7%A7%D7%98%D7%A0%D7%99%D7%9D-%D7%9E%D7%94-%D7%9C%D7%A9%D7%95%D7%91%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D-%D7%A9%D7%AA%D7%99%D7%A7%D7%94-%D7%95/
The style—“slack off,” “childishness,” the pleasure in smashing myths, all in rabbinic language—that is exactly what jars your many students and listeners. Personally, I would not want to be such a person when I become great in Torah. Part of its ways are pleasant ways, refined language, the language of the subtle. See S.Z. Levinger, one of your regular readers. What choice language! How lovely his deeds and his speech. Fine, I did not ask that you be like him; your character is different. But to write like Facebook focaccia is also not a level to boast of, even if it is sometimes fun as an anonymous commenter (cf. myself). As a rabbi and beacon, whether he wants to or not, there is a decency that is required.
I would recommend that you set aside a day, gather all the heartfelt criticism of your writing, seclude yourself, sit with a cigarette, and think. Let the words sink in. This is your only chance. Your lovers, admirers, your students—they are the ones who can enlighten you (and I believe you desire that, as this column hints). The graph on the dosometer shows that you are in decline. These things have fairly well-known scenarios in history: Elisha ben Avuyah, Abner of Burgos, and in our generation Yaron Yadan and Nir Stern.
https://he.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D7%99%D7%A8%D7%95%D7%9F_%D7%99%D7%93%D7%A2%D7%9F
https://nirstern.wordpress.com/about/
Honestly, many think this about you. After you have fired God from His heavenly post, what is left? In most of the Oral Torah you do not really believe. There was a core at Sinai. Fine, nu. Who can guarantee us that in another year or two (when you finish reading on your own the material on biblical criticism that you are now occupied with—as you testified on the site) you won’t dissolve that core into thin air and leave us all running to hear your musings in your Shabbat lesson around cholent and a fine cigarette? Think I exaggerated?! You have no idea how many of my friends, your listeners, think this about you. All the hints, and Freudian slips, raise the suspicion—though may we all be proven wrong—that you will remain a desirable and beloved Torah scholar who advances things, beautifies the religious and moral world, and not merely destroys and smashes with a stroke of the keyboard
Your lover and admirer, very very much,
Gil
And that is what seems correct to me.
S.Z.L.,
The case is not comparable to the proof. I did not crown myself with any special crown. I claim this about you too, and about anyone who is engaged in the matter (fit for it). This is a claim about the tradition and its meaning, not about me. My claim is not that I am the leading sage of the generation and therefore I decide or I can disagree with everyone. My claim is that one need not be the leading sage of the generation for that. That is a completely different claim. Moreover, I have written several times explicitly that this does not stem from special greatness but from the value of autonomy. Even if I know that the thickness of their loins exceeds my waist, I am permitted (like everyone else) to disagree. And so we find in the Talmud itself (I brought examples of Rabbi Meir, whose rulings were not accepted because they did not grasp the depth of his reasoning, and “It is not in heaven” in the oven of Akhnai, and more). And in general, since Abaye and Rava, the law follows the later authority, and these matters are old.
Hello Gil.
Many thanks for the work and for all the comments. I’ll try to respond briefly:
1. First, let me preface by saying that I wrote that regarding rabbis of our own generation I allow myself more. And indeed the question of the dividing line is a good one. And indeed I do not have much trust in the Haredi great Torah authorities. What can one do—that is the situation. This is not an expression of contempt but an expression of personal opinion. I do not identify with their mode of thinking and their rulings, and I think they are based on a very problematic way of thinking. I said this because people use them as an authoritative basis for formulating positions opposed to mine. Therefore I write that I do not see them as such a basis. By the way, from those same places come expressions of contempt much harsher (and much less justified) toward rabbis from other directions.
The passage you quoted in section 1: “Indeed I have little trust in the rabbis considered great in the Haredi world. I have lost it, unfortunately (or fortunately). I assume these are good people with good intentions, and some of them are also great Torah scholars (though I generally do not much appreciate their mode of thinking), but unfortunately they do not know the world they live in and are led in their decisions by petty, self-interested operatives who are looking for something to occupy themselves with instead of studying in kollel (which is rather boring for them).” I stand completely behind it and see no problem in it. It is a wholly substantive and reasoned description of my position.
2. Regarding “slacking off,” I do not see a problem in that. That is what one does when there is something one is obligated to do but does not identify with. And indeed legumes are ridiculous nonsense. I did not say a word here about anyone. I expressed a position about the thing itself, and the conclusions regarding whoever advocates it are left to the reader. By the way, in my opinion many of those who are careful about legumes agree with me. But they do not come out and say it for reasons of policy and education (against Reform—something with which I disagree). Therefore no conclusion should be drawn from what I wrote about the custom itself regarding the people who maintain it.
3. Here I really did not see a problematic expression. Indeed it seems to me a somewhat childish notion, and I think almost all of us feel that way. The proof is that we do not feel the terror that should follow from it. By the way, the Rambam already spoke in his introduction about the attitude to the aggadot of Hazal and himself wrote that one who takes them literally belongs to “the sect of fools.” Again, the conclusions about one who does think that way are not necessary. Perhaps he says it for educational and policy needs (with which I disagree). The problem is continuing with this myth even though it no longer really works. This very view of myth and the continued behavior in accordance with it—that is the childishness I was speaking of.
4. I strengthen their faith and do not weaken it. People who base their faith on childish beliefs may abandon it (this happens every day). As I wrote in one of the columns, with an approach that continues these myths we remain with the less courageous and more childish adults and lose the better ones (of course this is a generalization).
I can understand those who fear for my loss of faith. I fear that too. But what can one do? Ignore the truth and go on mouthing platitudes as before? I refuse to let fears dictate the mode and boundaries of thought. This is one of the main principles of my outlook. As stated, in my opinion this brings more benefit than harm.
I also do not accept recommendations whose purpose is to save me from heresy or “heresy.” I have no interest in that at all. If I am a heretic, then that is what I am. I am trying to clarify the truth, and of course I do not necessarily succeed. But I refuse to subordinate thought to desired conclusions. If these things will not “save” me in someone’s eyes, then so be it. In my eyes, this very approach has great value, and it is very important that someone present it within the ordinary verbiage that surrounds us and does not really manage to cope with the problems. People keep mouthing platitudes as before even though the problems are different and the people are different.
Again, thank you for the comments. The fact that I disagree does not mean I did not take them to heart (certainly on the level of style and how it is perceived. It is clear to me that even if the explanations I gave are correct, that does not necessarily mean readers understand them that way, so it affects them as I intended). I did take them to heart, and I am thinking and will continue thinking about them. Though without a cigarette…
Hello Rabbi Michi.
I agree with your words and with your proofs, but I still have some difficult points. After all, Hazal said in tractate Shabbat, “If the earlier ones were like angels…”—so in certain respects we do indeed look at them as angels (or will you say that indeed you also disagree with this statement, and bring a proof against Rabba bar Zimuna—the author of that statement—from Rabbi Meir and the oven of Akhnai? But in any case we have found an opinion that joins those who disagree with you regarding the Rishonim, and does agree with the second opinion, which is less respectful…).
And similarly, would you say the same thing about a person whose level of understanding is extremely low—that he should do according to what he understands, even though it is obvious to him that the problem lies with him? If so, have we not opened the door for all the ignoramuses?
The question is whether the dictum “the earlier ones are like angels” is factual or normative (that this is how one should relate to them and accept their authority). Hazal use expressions in that way. Thus, for example, they say of a rabbinic law that it is “a halakhah to Moses from Sinai,” merely in order to strengthen it (that is what Tosafot write). “Its details and general principles are from Sinai” is a normative statement, not a factual one.
Beyond that, even if they are angels, it does not mean one cannot disagree with them. That is the value of autonomy. See also the Rambam at the beginning of chapter 2 of the laws of Mamrim and the Kesef Mishneh there.
As for who should decide for himself, in my opinion everyone is responsible for his own decisions and there is no right to make decisions for another person. Perhaps the only exceptions are someone who is insane or lacking reason (without legal responsibility). Every person with the understanding given him by his Creator. We are not supposed to replace him. He serves his Creator, and he must make his own decisions. Moreover, even if we make decisions for him, it will turn out that he serves God by mistake, and it is doubtful how much value that service has. There is here the reasoning of “on the assumption of this,” which voids any contract (had he known, he would not have served God; therefore his service is by mistake). This is the danger in every holy lie (H.L.; see Column 21). Of course one can quibble about all this, for one could say that if the absolute truth is that there is an obligation to serve God, then we will go on to say that if he knew everything and arrived at the absolute truth, he would indeed want to serve God. But then the question is whether a double mistake that cancels itself out counts as no mistake. This all requires further examination.
So if I understood correctly, in a certain sense you do agree that the Rishonim should be related to as angels? If so, in what does that attitude express itself?
P.S. (regarding the reference to the discussion about smartphones): the Sefer HaChinuch’s “education” that defines “you shall not turn aside” applies in every generation, and says that the court must go about and institute according to their understanding. Do you explain that nowadays his words apply to a community rabbi? If so, the root of the commandment he gives there (the multiplication of disputes) does not apply (for there will still be disputes among the communities). Or do you disagree with him?
Hello Rabbi.
Just to reinforce Gil’s claim that many think of you as he wrote—I am writing that I join his words.
You are a great believer in the rationality of faith, in synthesis, as opposed to postmodernity which only deconstructs, and yet the impression one gets is that most of what you say is a deconstruction of existing beliefs.
As a regular reader of your writings, sometimes I think that you—with your amazing intellectual ability and gift for analysis—enjoy breaking myths down into their components, pointing at the king and saying that he is naked.
Gil, forgive me, but you are exaggerating a bit. As someone who has followed the rabbi’s writings since the middle of 5762 (early 2002), and only met him for the first time a year ago and since then has spoken with him several times, I can tell you that this is the same person. The early rabbi was simply more innocent and has undergone a process of maturing (in my estimation not a complete one; he has gone from childhood to adolescence, but not yet to full adulthood), and after you read the new books you will understand that the line that guided the rabbi in Two Wagons still partly guides his new views (in the new books), but the style, in my opinion, he acquired from the Lithuanian Haredi world itself, where contempt for Torah scholars (who are not from their camp) is absorbed with mother’s milk.
I personally grew up in Religious Zionism and openly admit that all the expressions you mentioned grated very much on me too when I first encountered them (and I even studied in Gush, but even in Gush in my day no one spoke in such a language). But you should know that in many things the rabbi simply said things that I myself had thought and buried deep, deep in my heart because I was ashamed that they had even occurred to me, let alone to acknowledge them—for example, the whole issue of the Haredi Torah scholars who lead the Haredi public. Six years ago I read the rabbi commenting on an answer of the Steipler, who had been asked a question in Torah and science, and the Steipler answered that one should think how the Vilna Gaon managed with it, and the rabbi said that his answer was “infantile.” At first that grated on me a bit, and I really do not know what the Steipler meant, but that is simply the accurate formulation. In everything connected to understanding reality (especially scientific and modern reality), the Haredi rabbis are simply children. It is a sharp formulation, but an accurate one.
Thanks to the rabbi, all these thoughts were released for me from the heart back into the head (though still not onto the tongue, for good reasons), and that alone gives me a sense of sanity.
The Religious-Zionist Torah world is still in its childhood, and therefore there is a sense as if we have more respect for Torah scholars. But that is not true, and we have already seen it in the last three or four years with the outbreak of the war of the Hardal rabbis against the liberal ones. In the future the gloves will come off and such expressions will fly through the air.
And forgive me too (and may S.Z.L. Levinger forgive me as well): the words of S.Z.L. Levinger are not a good example. His speech is not nice at all. There is a great deal in it of the sloganistic, brainwashed style of a classic yeshiva graduate (a Zionist one, that is, one who still has inferiority feelings toward a Haredi yeshiva graduate). Do not be fooled by the gentleness. It is not a fine style. It is exactly the style that invites the rabbi’s cynical style. S.Z.L. is Right and the rabbi is Left (the cynicism is meant to let the hot air out of the balloon inflated on the Right). The truth is the middle, but the middle is not empty respectability (which is what you think a Torah scholar should adorn himself with), which is the portion of 95 percent of rabbis today.
The upshot of my words is that, all in all, you should thank the Holy One, blessed be He, for the rabbi’s existence, especially in his current phase, and pray for its continuation (though according to the rabbi perhaps such a prayer has no value…). I have several friends who became rabbis, and I can tell you they are real calves. The rabbi’s heresy is worth 100 times more than “their faith.” I personally believe he will eventually reach his mature phase sometime in the future (even if somewhere along the way he pulls an Elisha ben Avuyah on us). But one must not rush maturation.
Hello Rabbi,
More power to you for your great contribution in Torah and wisdom, and yet—
I remember in one of the lessons that you wrote about the Rambam that he was naïve in thinking that one could study his Mishneh Torah and not need to study any other book (there were other examples, and this is just the one now in my mind, and also the one that grated most).
That grated on me terribly.
I do not remember in which lesson it was, maybe in the series on Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel.
After reading everything that was said here, I merited to get to know you and your views better. And indeed these things are awful and terrible to any Jewish ear and mind with a little faith. But in fact this is the inner truth in every person, even when he does not express outwardly what he thinks, out of fear of being perceived as a heretic or a rebel, etc.
And I have a problem, as a man of truth, leaving my honest thoughts in my belly (it is like poison bubbling inside).
And even though the form of expression is hard, this is my position and my opinion.
And a question arises in me: among the Karaites, Ethiopians, etc., one does not find such a situation… they are not influenced by science regarding halakhah and they hold to tradition without disputes. Things are clear. Whoever is secular is secular, and whoever is Jewish is Jewish.
As opposed to our Judaism today… even one who wants to be Jewish and not a heretic… finds no place to belong because of the abundance of opinions and disputes that arise from differing disputes and interpretations. A point for thought. Especially since no one really knows how absolute the tradition of the Oral Torah is. (As you noted, there are mistakes and also much missing information.)
It is enough to give an example from what you wrote in the previous post.
1
A Torah scholar and an educated person understands that there is no claim that is free of doubt. Even belief in God is not certain…
An educated and open person knows that even what appears in the Written Torah is not certain. Perhaps these are later additions? Perhaps it was not given at Sinai at all? After all, there is no certainty in anything. All these are our conclusions, and therefore they should be taken with limited confidence….
With God’s help, 3 Nisan 5777
To Daniel—many greetings,
On the contrary, precisely because of the abundance of opinions and approaches, everyone finds his own “niche” and nevertheless remains within the “framework,” while amazingly, with all the variety, there is a shared basic infrastructure.
Walk into a minyan of Religious Zionists in Beit Hakerem and walk into a minyan of Satmar Hasidim in Mea Shearim—here they may wear shorts and a tiny kippah, and there they may wear a hat and a kapoteh, but the prayer is the same prayer, the Torah scroll is the same Torah scroll. And the festivals fall on exactly the same dates, after two thousand years of dispersion.
That is the unifying power of the Oral Torah, which preserves a shared “hard core” while allowing room for diversity and flexibility around that common core.
With blessings, S.Z. Levinger
And because I am at home—I make sure not to undermine its foundations. When I have solid foundations—I can expand and raise and shape it in any direction I please. The firmer the foundation—the broader the horizons!
With blessings, S.Z. Levinger
One should accept their authority within the limits set by halakhah. The Talmud has absolute authority; the Rishonim and Acharonim have standing, but not absolute authority.
I do not agree with the Sefer HaChinuch. Simply put, authority was given only to the Sanhedrin or to whoever is accepted by the entire public (such as the Gemara).
I’ve accepted that this is what some people think. The question is what am I supposed to do with that? As I explained, my positions are my positions, and it won’t help to define them as heresy. In my eyes there is deconstruction that is great construction, and there is construction that is deconstruction.
I also do not remember where that was. But that statement really is naïve. Here one doesn’t even need me. Go out and see whether learners really make do with the Rambam and go on to study philosophy, or whether they also turn the Rambam into a subject they engage in, analyze, and debate. Is saying that some sage was naïve an insult? Is it an improper statement? I do not think so.
Yechiel, the question is what exactly those examples demonstrate. Indeed, nothing is certain. Is that improper or blunt speech? Is it not true?
I am only reinforced in my view that the problem is not the form of expression but the contents. True, I accepted Yishai’s point that the form of expression can sometimes sharpen or soften the reactions to the contents.
Another example, based on what was written here. Compare the following formulations:
“The Rambam was naïve when he said that…”
“This is a naïve statement”
“There is something naïve in this statement of the Rambam”
Of course, one might want specifically to sharpen, but if your wish is to soften, I think that is possible.
Indeed there is a difference.
Hello and blessings, Michi. For your information, there are small differences in the prayers—for example in Djerba and in Tunis.
In the prayer customs… and that is no proof, since the Arabs too pray the same prayer… and outward appearance does not matter at all. As for Torah scrolls… to this day I have not understood whether there is really one Torah scroll for everyone without differences. To the best of my knowledge there are differences in script style and cantillation between the Yemenites and the other communities. In addition, about a year ago I read on the internet about an ancient Torah scroll from Georgia with a tradition going back to the First or Second Temple period (I do not remember exactly). The information about it disappeared from the internet, but in any case they ruled it invalid. In any case, one thing is certain—nothing is certain… and therefore “darkness shall cover the earth, and thick cloud the peoples,” and one simply needs to submit to the sages who lived in earlier generations and cling to simple faith in God.
And let us suppose that we served God not exactly as He wanted… will they demand an account from us for that in the World to Come? And let us suppose there is no World to Come… is there anything more pleasurable than Torah study? More pleasurable than this immense wisdom? Which contains philosophy, spirit, such tremendous knowledge, in addition to the study of halakhah and the aggadot of Hazal that shape us?
The only thing that really bothers me is the issue of tradition… without tradition… the Torah is no different from Harry Potter…
They are both beautiful and moving books and full of moral lessons… except that Harry Potter says it is fiction, while the Torah scroll has a tradition and a people who survived as written in the Torah. All the prophecies were fulfilled…
And indeed there is a problem when there are communities with a completely different tradition—the Ethiopians and the Karaites. In addition there were the Sadducees and the Boethusians.
Etc. One can continue with this endlessly, and therefore there is no way to know where the truth is… In my humble opinion, despite my lack of knowledge, I would say that the Karaites are closer to the truth… because they are closer to Scripture… and we are closer to the rulings of the sages in each generation. They rely on the word of God, and we on the words of sages. And so on… the leadership of Beta Israel is so harmonious and amazing; there are no unnecessary halakhic questions, and that is astonishing. The connection to God and to the laws He commanded. And again, “darkness shall cover the earth, and thick cloud the peoples”… I will have to live in doubts until the day I die or until the coming of the Messiah. And I’m with you: I can say another 1000 times that I believe in the coming of the Messiah, but it does not really come from the heart… for it depends on our deeds. We ourselves repair the world through keeping the commandments. And in the Six-Day War we won without a Messiah. We survived the Holocaust without a Messiah. We survived 2000 years of exile without a Messiah. (As opposed to false messiahs who caused harm.) Everything is under the providence of God, may He be blessed. One must cling to the sages, and with God’s help we will discover the truth, and until then we must not neglect Torah, or even a single commandment, for we do not know the reward of a light or severe commandment.
If I am completely mistaken, I would be glad to hear your opinion, Michi 🙂
Although I see nothing wrong with those comments. Cynicism is entirely legitimate, and I myself also use it. At the author’s request I removed them.
To Daniel
Regarding Torah scrolls, there are no significant differences between the communities. The differences in script are not disqualifying even from a halakhic perspective; the differences in wording are truly only a few, and are nothing more than a halakhic question, such as whether one writes “petzu’a daka” or “dakah,” questions that are not relevant at all to the reliability of the tradition.
The Karaites are not at all closer to the plain meaning of Scripture, certainly not more than Hazal, as is known to anyone who studies their writings.
The question of who brought us back to the Land of Israel—whether the Messiah or someone else—is completely irrelevant. The main thing is that the word of our God, which He promised 3300 years ago, has been fulfilled, and so too the main words of the prophets.
One must never nullify reason, but it does no harm to know that there are complex topics and that there are wise people, and this is not the place to lay out all the complications. If you wish, I would be glad to try to sort out some of the complications by email.
Yes, I would be glad, Yechiel, if you could sort out the complications by email..
Is there a way here to send email privately? Or would you like to write me your email address?
Try exchanging emails through Oren, the site editor. You can contact him through “About.”
With blessings, S.Z. Levinger
With God’s help, 4 Nisan 5777
To Ramda”a—many greetings,
Precisely the episode of “the oven of Akhnai” is solid proof that there is such a thing as “the Torah should not become like two Torahs,” and even a giant like Rabbi Eliezer was forbidden to rule publicly according to his opinion against the majority.
The ideal is that one halakhah should go forth for all Israel from the mouth of the Great Court in the Chamber of Hewn Stone. The situation of two schools between which there was no decision apparently stemmed from Herod’s takeover of the Sanhedrin, which pushed the sages into the “private sphere,” a situation that led to the creation of separate schools.
This situation was corrected by Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai, and after him Rabban Gamliel of Yavneh, who reestablished the “house of assembly” as a central framework, a situation that existed to a certain extent in the days of the Amoraim, when in Babylonia and in the Land of Israel there were several central academies.
At all events, unity in halakhic ruling was required within a community: according to Rava, so that in one court some would rule this way and some that way; and according to Abaye, even in “two courts in one city” the principle of “do not form factions” applies.
In practice, it seems to me that until the expulsion period of the 15th century, in almost all places there was only one community in each city (except for Baghdad, where for a certain time the two academies “Sura” and “Pumbedita” sat, and Cairo, where there was a separate community of the people of the Land of Israel).
Only in the 15th century, when because of the mass expulsions from Spain, Ashkenaz, and France, situations multiplied in which entire communities were uprooted from their place and continued to exist as an independent community wherever they found refuge.
And still, every community was attached to a certain city, where there was one community or several communities, but the reality of an “extraterritorial community” never entered anyone’s mind, and certainly not the reality of an individual without communal belonging.
The reality of an “extraterritorial community” began to exist only in the 18th century, for several reasons: the dissolution of the Council of Four Lands in Poland, and later the erosion of communal autonomy in the modern European nation-state, which unlike the Middle Ages did not look favorably on the existence of autonomous corporations with self-jurisdiction.
Likewise, the great struggles within Jewish society—with those suspected of Sabbateanism, and later the struggles between Hasidim and Mitnagdim, between maskilim and conservatives, and between Zionists and their opponents—created a completely new situation in which there is a strong tendency for the local community to disintegrate, as each and every individual finds himself an extraterritorial rabbi, to the point of the absurd situation of “ten rabbinical courts in one nuclear family.”
In our situation, in which every Jew is an individualist, personal communal belonging is a “necessary evil,” but it seems to me that this was not the “poet’s intention,” who gave the Torah to His people in order to create “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation,” a nation that serves God as a cohesive society, and not as an accidental collection of individuals. Therefore there ought to be an aspiration, at the very least, to strengthen the common denominator and not to fragment it further.
It seems to me that just as the period of the Tannaim came to a close with the creation of the Mishnah, and just as the period of the Amoraim closed with the creation of the Talmud, which served as an agreed-upon basis for the generations to come—so too the period of the Rishonim closed around the composition of the Beit Yosef, which created a kind of virtual Sanhedrin, and following it the Shulchan Arukh and in parallel the glosses of the Rema and their commentators, all of which helped establish the superior standing of the Rishonim, whom the Acharonim only very rarely dispute.
Just as the Rishonim refrained from disagreeing with Hazal and contented themselves with interpretation and deciding between Hazal—so too the Acharonim accepted the Rishonim as the foundation and point of departure for their halakhic discussions. And with God’s help the period of the Acharonim too will come to ingathering and closure through great creators like Rabbi Judah the Prince, Rav Ashi, and Rabbi Yosef Karo and the Rema, whose work of gathering and editing brought about a new shared denominator for the whole nation!
With blessings, S.Z. Levinger
I do not see any value in unifying the Torah, except where there is a threat to the integrity of society and its functioning. That was the situation in the oven of Akhnai. See my article here: https://mikyab.net/%D7%9B%D7%AA%D7%91%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9E%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9B%D7%9C-%D7%94%D7%99%D7%9B%D7%90-%D7%93%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%A0%D7%9F-%D7%91%D7%95-%D7%91%D7%99%D7%95%D7%9D-%D7%94%D7%94%D7%95%D7%90-%D7%99%D7%95%D7%9E%D7%90-%D7%94%D7%95%D7%94-%D7%99/
Very fine words.
Let us pray for his honor, “naked in knowledge,” that the aspect of “and make themselves like a beast” will also be strengthened in him, and that the two matters rise together… (see Orot Yisrael 8)
I was not sufficiently clear and mixed things together a bit.
The rabbi describes revelation as a historical event that occurred three thousand years ago at Mount Sinai, when the Torah was given, and since then the Master of the Universe has not appeared in the world. On top of this description—for which the rabbi has no proof whatsoever—the rabbi adds a sharp historicist layer. A halakhah to Moses from Sinai is not really to Moses from Sinai; belief in the World to Come and in the Messiah, the sages’ reasonings, late additions to the Torah itself, the dubious origin of the Zohar, and so on. Each of these claims has a solid basis of its own, but their convergence raises the question whether the separation the rabbi makes between the core of revelation itself, which is not supposed to be historical, and the other historical components, can stand.
There is no doubt about the rabbi’s commitment to halakhah, and his belief in it as the word of God, and still, once the rabbi’s belief in God is purely philosophical, without giving room to the empirical aspect of revelation, while combining this with a historicist approach to the Torah, it is hard to understand where the boundary passes. Why should we not say that the whole Torah is human reasoning (and not only a halakhah to Moses from Sinai), late additions beginning in the middle of the First Temple period (as biblical criticism claims), medieval philosophical influences (Kabbalah), and so on? Once one adopts a historicist approach toward Torah, where does the boundary line pass?
I very much identify with the questions the rabbi is dealing with, and the easy life many people make for themselves on these issues is not acceptable to me. There certainly are troubling questions and problems, and fleeing from them is not serious. But by the same token, in my opinion it is also important to anchor revelation in some empirical dimension. In my view, the empirical dimension Hazal give here is powerful. It explains what the difference is between Israel and the Sioux tribe (the Sioux were slaughtered, whereas the people of Israel have meanwhile survived), why Christianity and Islam are of no interest (since both religions only try to counterfeit the revelation of God’s name in the world that exists in the people of Israel and in the Torah), and more. What reveals the name of God in the world is not some historical revelation from three thousand years ago, but the very existence of the people of Israel and the Torah in the world. To see the name of God in the world, in my opinion it is enough to look in the mirror.
The Master of the Universe cannot be touched. He is not part of the world in the simple sense (and I am not entering here into the dispute between Chabad and the Lithuanians). But the Master of the Universe has signifiers in the world—Israel and the Torah. They are of the category of “his bill of divorce and his hand come simultaneously”; the proof and that which proves come together. True, the Master of the Universe no longer performs open miracles in the simple sense, but the very survival of the Jewish people and the return to the Land of Israel is perhaps the greatest miracle there is, as the prophet Jeremiah already wrote:
Therefore, behold, days are coming, says the Lord, when it shall no longer be said: “As the Lord lives, who brought up the children of Israel from the land of Egypt,” but rather: “As the Lord lives, who brought up and brought the offspring of the house of Israel from the land of the north and from all the lands to which I had banished them,” and they shall dwell on their own soil. (23:7–8)
It is no coincidence that the mizraḥniks accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven at the end of the evening prayer on Independence Day. For them, the hand of God is revealed in the rebirth of the people of Israel in its land.
I will only add that these things have further implications, such as the difference between books of Jewish thought, which are still considered words of Torah, and books of philosophy, which are considered books of wisdom. I agree with the rabbi that there is an elusive difference between books of thought and halakhah and lomdus, and still, since they are part of the revelation of God’s name in the world, in my opinion they have the status of Torah, and one may not bring them into a bathroom and one must recite the blessings over Torah on them. Books of gentile philosophy, on the other hand, do not have that status, and therefore it is permitted to read them in the bathroom.
I hope that what I have said will be accepted and not regarded as words of insolence and brazenness.
More power to you, Rabbi Y.D., for these words! Indeed, words of truth are evident.
Dear Y.D.
Why are these words of insolence or brazenness? Excellent words, written nicely and acceptably. Besides, a little insolence and cynicism too (which, to the best of my judgment, are not present here) are not harmful in my opinion.
As for the substance, I agree with every word. I did not understand where the objection is. After all, I wrote all those arguments from unique history and so on in the fifth notebook. It is just that in my opinion this does not necessarily express divine involvement (at least in the later generations), but rather the Jewish nature implanted in us by the Torah and its observance, and by our history.
My belief in the revelation at Mount Sinai is factual. Only its content is not entirely clear to me (and in my opinion not to others either, except that they do not dare give themselves an honest report about it). My conclusion that there was such an event is based in part on the arguments you raised here.
Indeed, the boundary between what was accepted there and what was added later is unknown to me. What can one do? I was unable to reach a conclusion on this matter. For now there are presumptions (such as the assumption that what is written in the Torah is from Heaven unless proven otherwise).
The question is whether the prayer will help 🙂
With God’s help, eve of holy Sabbath, “And He called to Moses,” 5777
To Reuven—many greetings,
Rabbi Zeira’s statement that “the earlier ones were like sons of angels” is said in the Gemara (Shabbat 112b) in the context of the give-and-take between Rabbi Yoḥanan and his teacher Hezekiah, in which the teacher marveled at his student’s ability “to compare one matter to another,” and to resolve his teacher’s doubt regarding a vessel that was pierced, repaired, pierced again, and repaired again, from what the teacher himself had said about a sandal whose strap snapped and was repaired, and then snapped again and was repaired—that a vessel repaired again and again does not fully return to its original state, but rather “a new entity has come here.”
At the success of the student in resolving his teacher’s doubt through a deepening in the words of the teacher himself, the teacher praised him and said of him: “This is no son of man,” but an angel; and according to one version, the teacher said: “Such a son of man excels in all things.”
The rabbi has an advantage in that he is a link closer to the source in the chain of transmitters of the Torah, each from the mouth of the other, back to Moses from the mouth of the Almighty. The authentic vessel that has passed through fewer fractures has an advantage over the “second vessel,” upon which the fractures and waves of history have already left their marks.
On the other hand, the second sandal too, made of “patch upon patch,” has an advantage, in being “a new entity.” His admiration for his teacher leads him to delve deeper and deeper into his teacher’s Torah, until he finds in his teacher’s words “new facets” that the teacher himself did not notice.
One who thinks his teacher is an ordinary person will not trouble himself to descend to the depth of his thinking, and will remain “like a horse or mule without understanding.” But one to whom the teacher seems like an angel grapples and struggles, raises objections and resolves them, until he merits to draw forth pearls and develop his teacher’s Torah in new directions.
With blessings for a peaceful Sabbath, S.Z. Levinger
More power to you for these words.
There is one point on which I would be glad to read your view. You write about the mistakes of the ancients. Often the way of our predecessors in the study hall was to leave matters as needing further consideration.
Where is the line between saying about a certain view among the Rishonim/Acharonim/Hazal that it requires further consideration, and saying that it is a mistake?
It is hard to determine. Sometimes it is only a polite expression, but sometimes a person really is unsure. The language is part of the tendency to preserve the status of the ancients as those who do not err. I oppose that tendency both because it is not true and because it is harmful. Therefore, when something seems clearly mistaken to me, I write that it is a mistake.
It seems that most of the commenters agree with the claim that a direct and aggressive style expresses respect. (Unlike a museum.)
In my opinion, this testifies about the commenters that they are naïve and foolish people who bought that weak and unconvincing argument.
Does any commenter think that the wording in the previous sentence expresses “respect” or “feeling at home” that I have toward the commenters?
This is an argument that calls by the word “respect” a style that is clearly disrespectful. I would have expected the rabbi to explain what “lack of respect” means in his view, since in this way one can explain anything away.
And I also agree very much with what was said, that even if the rabbi really does respect, what readers understand is that the rabbi does not respect.
(I truly respect the rabbi and the commenters; I wrote this way to clarify the point.)
It seems that most of the commenters agree with the claim that a direct and aggressive style expresses respect. (Unlike a museum.)
In my opinion, this testifies about the commenters that they are naïve and foolish people who bought that weak and unconvincing argument.
Does any commenter think that the wording in the previous sentence expresses “respect” or “feeling at home” that I have toward the commenters?
This is an argument that calls by the word “respect” a style that is clearly disrespectful. I would have expected the rabbi to explain what “lack of respect” means in his view, since in this way one can explain anything away.
And I also agree very much with what was said, that even if the rabbi really does respect, what readers understand is that the rabbi does not respect.
(I truly respect the rabbi and the commenters; I wrote this way to clarify the point.)
(To the site editor: by mistake the comment was posted in the wrong place.)
By chance, while searching for something else, I got here.
I only want to note that to judge someone’s faith or lack of faith only by how he dresses, and how he behaves in matters of social belonging, is in my humble opinion very superficial.
And also to lump together the four names you mentioned in one category is, in my opinion, very superficial. The division whereby whoever is “one of us” is certainly fine in the eyes of the Creator, and whoever is not—not.
If only it were that simple. Instead of standing alone before the Creator, who created every person as an individual, and constantly seeking and asking and learning and choosing and bearing responsibility, and after all that continuing not to know, and to worry and examine and supervise one’s path, as stated in Mesillat Yesharim, it is much easier to belong to a group and be “we” instead of “I,” and thereby solve the obligation of choice and the trial for which our soul descended into this world.
Regarding:
“And may you remain a desirable and beloved Torah scholar who advances things, beautifies the world of faith and morality, and not merely destroys and smashes with a stroke of the keyboard”
In my view, if someone destroys and smashes, when from his perspective at least he is seeking truth and is not trying intentionally to provoke and entice astray, one can engage with his words. And whether one agrees, or disagrees sharply, or sees that there are things one does not want to think about at all—in any case one grows and broadens one’s horizons, discovers something new, and becomes more of a chooser and more of a thinking person, and in this one becomes more “human” according to the Rambam’s definition—that is, to be an intellectual being—and according to the Maharal’s definition—that is, to be a being of free choice.
One who beautifies things I already thought before has brought me no benefit. On the contrary, he has distanced me from reexamining my path, as Mesillat Yesharim writes, that one should not be like a racing horse, etc., but should supervise one’s ways and deeds anew every day. And Rabbi Yoḥanan, after Resh Lakish’s death, was not comforted by a study partner who brought support for his words, but wanted someone who would raise twenty-four objections to everything he said.
I just wanted to hear clarification on a few things:
1) Regarding your attitude to the Rambam, you wrote here: https://mikyab.net/%D7%A9%D7%95%D7%AA/%D7%A8%D7%9C%D7%95%D7%95%D7%A0%D7%98%D7%99%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%9E%D7%97%D7%A9%D7%91%D7%AA-%D7%99%D7%A9%D7%A8%D7%90%D7%9C/
“For some reason, most gentiles do not think he is such an important philosopher worth studying, at least nowadays.” I understood from the context there that you identify with what most gentiles think. Was I mistaken?
2) I assume you do not hold of Rabbi “Y.Y.” as you hold of the Rambam, and neither do I. And indeed several times some very incorrect things, to put it mildly, have come from his mouth. Does what you wrote here:
https://mikyab.net/%D7%A2%D7%9C-%D7%A7%D7%95%D7%A4%D7%99%D7%9D-%D7%95%D7%90%D7%A0%D7%A9%D7%99%D7%9D-%D7%A2%D7%95%D7%93-%D7%9E%D7%A4%D7%A0%D7%99%D7%A0%D7%99-%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%9F-%D7%94%D7%A8%D7%91-%D7%99%D7%A6/
also describe the attitude of someone who sits and learns with him?
3) When you write “disparagingly” about politicians from various parties, in that too were we mistaken, and in truth you do not mean to disparage them but speak as one who sits and learns with them?
1. Indeed. In my estimation too, he is not a very important philosopher.
2. Next time please clarify your conversation (I only understood after I read section 3). No.
3. No.
Regarding the importance of the Rambam as a philosopher.
The Rambam emphasized in several places that in his writings he is not engaged in philosophy, and has no statement or innovation in that field.
He came only to interpret the Torah. It is like claiming that Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik was not a great philosopher, or Einstein, or Yitzhak Perlman. This is a person who dealt in another discipline. It is like saying that the Rambam was not a great pianist. That is a misleading statement. For if one is going to assess a person’s greatness, one must evaluate him within the discipline in which he operated.
For example, in Guide of the Perplexed II:2:
“Know that in this treatise it was not my intention to compose anything in natural science or to explain matters of divine science according to some opinions, or to bring proof for those things among them for which proof has been brought; nor was it my intention to explain and determine the structure of the spheres or their number, or to state their number, for the books composed on all this are sufficient; and if they are not sufficient regarding some matter, then what I might say on that matter would not be better than what has already been said. Rather the intention of this treatise is what I already informed you of in its introduction, namely the explanation of the obscurities of religion and the display of the truths of its hidden matters, which are beyond the understanding of the masses. Therefore, when you see me speaking of establishing the separate intellects and their number, or the number of the spheres and the causes of their motions, or the true nature of matter and form, or the matter of the divine overflow and similar subjects, do not think, or let it arise in your mind, that I intend thereby to establish that philosophical matter alone. For these matters have already been spoken of in many books, and proof has been brought for the truth of most of them. Rather I intend only to mention that which, when understood, will clarify some doubt among the doubts of the Torah, and many knots will be untied by knowing that matter which I explain. And you already know from the introduction to this treatise that its axis revolves around explaining what can be understood of the Account of Creation and the Account of the Chariot, and the explanation of doubts connected to prophecy and to the knowledge of God. Thus, every chapter in which you find me explaining some matter for which proof has already been given in natural science, or some matter already demonstrated in divine science, or shown to be preferable among what may be believed, or some matter connected with what has been demonstrated in the mathematical sciences—know that it is necessarily a key to understanding some statement of the prophetic books—I mean their parables and secrets—and for this reason I have mentioned it and explained it and shown how it helps us know the Account of the Chariot or the Account of Creation, or to clarify a principle regarding prophecy or believing a true opinion among the Torah beliefs.”
1. If so, I can understand why people think you are belittling the Rambam. In my opinion he did see himself as an important philosopher, and that this was even more important than everything he did in the halakhic world. The statement that his philosophy is mediocre is indeed a very harsh criticism.
2-3. Sorry for the lack of clarity; I will try to correct that in the future. As for the main point: if on the same blog you regularly criticize sharply both Rabbi Y.Y. and various politicians, people may think that your attitude toward the Rambam and toward Rabbi Y.Y. is similar, though in truth one can see from the tone that it is not exactly the same thing.
There is no philosophical statement in the Guide of the Perplexed that is not written almost verbatim in Aristotle, al-Farabi, Ibn Sina, or Ibn al-Sa’igh (better known as Ibn Bajja). Even without expertise in them, one can see in the Schwartz edition the references to sources.
If there had been even one new philosophical statement of the Rambam, then one could assess its philosophical importance and learn from that about the Rambam as a philosopher. But the fact is that there is not.
He knew extremely well and precisely the words of the above philosophers, and for that reason philosophers used his writings, and from that they appreciated him in the philosophical world. But they did not learn from him any philosophy of his own, because there is none. And as he himself testifies, that is so. Therefore it makes no sense to speak of his importance as a philosopher.
There are immense innovations in the Guide in the study of the inner meaning of Torah according to his special path, but no renewed philosophical content in the sense of general philosophy, outside the study hall.
I did not understand your distinction between “general philosophy outside the study hall” and “the study of the inner meaning of Torah,” and in my opinion the Rambam also did not distinguish between them and did not place general philosophy outside the study hall.
It is certainly true that most of the philosophical statements in the Guide are not innovations of the Rambam, but he also has something to say about them on his own. One example is his rejection of Aristotle’s proofs for the eternity of the world.
And because I want solid foundations—I will make sure to deal with them and improve them until they are impossible to shake. For foundations that I can easily shake while walking alone in my house are not sufficiently solid foundations, and they may, God forbid, collapse if I try to bring other people into my home.
To Rabbi Michi,
You wrote in several places that in your opinion there is one truth. If so, it is incumbent upon us to clarify the absolute truth in its purity (premise A).
On the other hand, you wrote in this post and in other places that from your point of view the only thing that obligates you in understanding the Torah is reason, and therefore you will not hesitate to disagree with all the Rishonim and Acharonim if it is clear to you that the truth is with you according to your own understanding (premise B).
From a third side, you wrote in this post that you greatly esteem the Rishonim and Acharonim as people, most of them full of wisdom and understanding, etc. (premise C).
And I stand astonished how these three premises can fit together:
After all, we are seeking the absolute truth (premise A). To find it, we have two ways—either to rely on our own reason, or to rely on the words of our predecessors. And if way A contradicts way B, it is far more likely that way B is correct, because with all due respect to our reason, the reason of all the predecessors together surely surpasses it in wisdom (unless it is a matter connected to changes in reality over the generations) (premise C). So if the absolute truth matters to us, we must go by the path in which it is more likely that we will reach it—according to the Rishonim and not according to our own reason! (This contradicts premise B.)
And from another angle—why rely only on what my own reason says in the discussion as such, and not on what that very same reason itself says, namely that it is likely mistaken if all the Rishonim say otherwise.
I would be glad for clarification as to where I erred in understanding your words..
First, even if I greatly esteem someone, that does not mean he is immune to mistakes. When I weigh my position, I also take into account the opinions of those who disagree and their stature, and still there may be situations in which I conclude that they erred.
But beyond all this, see my article on autonomy and authority and in the third volume of the trilogy, where I explained that halakhic ruling is based on two values: truth and autonomy (the obligation to act as I myself understand). I explained there that the value of autonomy instructs me to act according to my own opinion even where it is clear to me that the dissenter is far greater than I am and probably he is right. And in my opinion this is the meaning of the Gemara in Eruvin that they did not rule according to Rabbi Meir because his colleagues could not grasp the depth of his reasoning.
The first claim apparently does not answer my point. I too conclude that I am right and the Rishonim are wrong; that is of course according to my personal understanding. I am aware that my personal understanding is limited, and therefore in weighing all the data, i.e., a weighted average of all the opinions according to their relative weight, I reach the final conclusion that the Rishonim are right. True, it is possible that they are mistaken, but by the same token it is possible that I am mistaken, and the chance that I am mistaken is greater.
I did not understand the second claim. We’ll manage with the Gemara in Eruvin; I assume that is not the proof for your position, but rather you rely on your logic which determines that autonomy is critical in halakhic ruling even when it leads to a conclusion against the truth.
But what is the logic in claiming that? If we need to fulfill God’s will, and His will is the halakhic truth, why should we act against the truth merely because that seems right to us?
Unfortunately I do not yet have the trilogy, so I would be glad if you could explain to me briefly the rational basis for your claim. And please do not push me to “the truth of the building.”
If so, what you are supposed to do is measure the intelligence of everyone in the world and stick to the wisest among them. I assume there is a fair chance he will not be Jewish. I see no point in these skeptical pilpulim.
As for your final question, I already explained that the halakhic requirement is a combination of truth and autonomy. You can read both in the article and in the trilogy. So I most definitely am pushing you to “the truth of the building.” If you want, read there.
With God’s help, 12 Tevet 5780
In measuring the value of an opinion that attempts to give a renewed halakhic or philosophical interpretation to the Torah, one must take into account not only the “intelligence” and general knowledge of the one expressing it, but first and foremost his greatness in Torah in depth and breadth, his fear of Heaven, and his greatness in the forty-eight qualities through which Torah is acquired. Then we will know how to evaluate the בעל הדעה המהפכנית, whether he is “a tanna and may disagree,” or perhaps merely “Hazon Ish for a few years” 🙂
If the man has not been recognized as a phenomenal genius before whom all the sages of Israel are like a garlic peel, there is still room to discuss his arguments if they contain conclusive proofs that override the judgment of the sages with whom he disagrees, such that had they heard his arguments they would “admit and abandon” their view. Naturally, this examination is entrusted to outstanding sages qualified to render decisions, who will find that his arguments are the clear truth against which there is no possibility of rejection or refutation.
On the contrary: let the claimant to “autonomy” present his halakhic conclusions in a “tetralogy” that encompasses all sections of the Shulchan Arukh, and also the laws of agriculture and sacrificial matters, and “let us see whether the clearly authoritative decisors agree with him and crown him upon their heads.”
With blessings, S"Z
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… as a phenomenal genius before whom all the sages of Israel…
There is also a Gemara—I don’t remember where—that writes about some tanna who said something in the name of his teacher so that people would accept it from him.
However, it seems that a person cannot check everything; rather, a person works with trust and of course with a critical system. He receives and examines things from wise people, but not every single thing all the way through; rather it is a whole body of knowledge that a person accumulates. If so, to say something in the name of a person I trust and take seriously—still, it seems puzzling to me why that would be permitted.
Hello sir, do you have a rabbi or distinguished rabbis by whose light you walk, who have laid their hands on your approach? After all, the entire tradition of transmitting Torah among the people of Israel was done by a rabbi transmitting to a student (see the first mishnah of tractate Avot), and so it has been from the giving of the Torah until our own day, and all the books of our rabbis speak of this. There is no one among the famous decisors whom, with God’s help, the Blessed One chose to lead the people of Israel throughout the generations, who dares express himself in the way you do. Not about Rishonim, not about Acharonim, and not about latter-day Acharonim. And if in your opinion the Rishonim are like ordinary people, then we…
The path you have chosen, in my opinion, somewhat resembles “Reform”… It is a new method that our rabbis never adopted. Note that throughout history there remained no name or remnant for anyone who tried to deviate from the path the Holy One, blessed be He, laid out for us in His Torah—Written Torah and Oral Torah, which also includes upright conduct. Whoever thought he was wiser than the sages of Israel, in the present or the past, was not part of the Torah chain of the people of Israel.
I assume this is “yet another comment” that will not be able to move you from your opinion, but I feel that the obligation to respond rests on me. And if I can save someone reading this comment from the false views appearing here on the site, with which the spirit of the sages is by no means at all pleased, that will be my reward.
I wish for you and for all of us that we merit to do the will of the Blessed One in perfection. Amen, may it be His will.
I, on the contrary, am indeed in a place where one very much needs to be careful that nothing breaks. Responsibility outweighs the desire to uphold and realize my own opinion at any cost.
Although on the one hand I identify completely with the rabbi’s words, it sounds hypocritical to me to say that this path is equivalent to the path and faith of the Tannaim and Amoraim, etc. After all, already one generation after the generation of the Tannaim they began asking questions from the Tannaim against the Amoraim, and no Amora dared disagree with a Tanna, and this purely because of their earlier time (and the Rambam’s words on this are very strange). And you will never find a Tanna disagreeing with a Tanna of the previous generation, and we never find Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai and Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi discussing one topic as colleagues sitting around one table.
And I only wish to bring to the attention of the friends the words of the Rambam, Laws of Idolatry, chapter 2, halakhah 3:
“And it is not only idolatry that one is forbidden to turn one’s thoughts after, but any thought that causes a person to uproot a principle of the Torah—we are warned not to bring it into our hearts, nor to turn our minds to it and think about it and be drawn after the thoughts of the heart, because a person’s mind is limited and not all minds can attain the truth clearly. And if every person follows the thoughts of his own heart, he will destroy the world because of the shortness of his understanding. How so? Sometimes he may seek after idolatry, and sometimes he may think about the unity of the Creator: perhaps He exists, perhaps He does not; what is above and what is below, what was before and what will be after; and sometimes about prophecy, perhaps it is true, perhaps it is not; and sometimes about the Torah, perhaps it is from Heaven, perhaps it is not. And he does not know the methods by which he should judge until he knows the truth clearly, and thus he comes to heresy. Concerning this the Torah warned and said, ‘Do not wander after your hearts and after your eyes, after which you go astray’—that is, let not each of you follow his own limited mind and imagine that his thought attains the truth. Thus said the sages: ‘after your hearts’—this is heresy; ‘after your eyes’—this is immorality. And although this prohibition causes a person to be cut off from the World to Come, it does not carry lashes.”
It seems to me that Rabbi Michael Abraham has already answered this—that apparently such a halakhah is relevant only for someone who already believes and is committed to Torah + thinks of himself as having a limited mind, and from this it follows that someone who from the outset does not believe—the authority of the Rambam (or any other great Torah giant, whoever he may be) cannot obligate him to clarify the principles of his faith, etc.; and on the other hand, someone who is convinced that he has the appropriate philosophical skill, then regarding him too the Rambam did not state his words.
I have no idea what you are referring to here. Chinese.
Forgive the mistake in wording the comment above; I meant “the authority of the Rambam cannot obligate him not to clarify,” etc.
I think my words are clear, but I will repeat the point. Although it seems logically right to me that one cannot obligate a person to believe that his opinion against the opinion of the ancients counts for nothing, the opinion of Hazal clearly is not so (though perhaps they are mistaken in this), for we see in both Talmuds and in the Mishnah that a later authority has no permission to disagree with those before him, and we have no sufficient reason for this besides what Hazal themselves said (Eruvin 53a): “Rabbi Yoḥanan said: The heart of the early ones was like the entrance to the Ulam, and that of the later ones like the entrance to the Heikhal—and we are like the eye of a fine needle.” That is, the opinion of the later ones is insignificant against the opinion of the ancients because the ancients were greater in understanding.
I am referring mainly (though in my opinion this point is fundamental) to what Rabbi Michael wrote at the beginning of the column:
“There are of course also formal considerations of authority, such as the authority of the Sanhedrin or the halakhot in the Talmud, which there is no halakhic possibility of disputing.”
And I come to say that this is not correct. The reason one may not dispute the Bavli is not because of some halakhic issue; the reason one may not dispute the Bavli is because, in Hazal’s opinion, the understanding of the later ones relative to the earlier ones is a very meager understanding. And though the Rambam did indeed interpret it that way in his introduction to the Yad, his interpretation is very novel, for according to him only the Mishnah edited by Rabbi has authority, not the baraitot; nor is there any reason that exceptional Amoraim such as Rav should be exceptions; and this also does not explain why we never find Rabbi Yehudah disagreeing with Rabbi Eliezer, or Rava disagreeing with Rav.
We certainly do find them disagreeing, even with Tannaim from time to time. And what they wrote in praise of the earlier ones need not be read literally; rather it is a literary expression meaning that one should not disagree with them, that their words are as if spoken by one whose loins are thicker than our waists. So too one must interpret the sayings that everything was given to Moses at Sinai, which is of course not true.
In any event, even if you were right, this is not a relevant argument. Even if the Talmud did not do this with respect to the Mishnah, I do not see why I should not do it with respect to the Rishonim or the Acharonim. Besides, as you noted, the Rambam and the Kesef Mishneh (beginning of chapter 2 of Mamrim) certainly held like me. And so too in the Rosh on Sanhedrin chapter 4, sec. 6, whose words are brought in Ḥoshen Mishpat sec. 25.
I’ll just note that I greatly enjoyed reading this post; I hope we continue to get you sharp and opinionated, without dulling and rounding off.
When a person follows his own intellect and wisdom, he can fall into many mistakes and obstacles, and come to great evils, God forbid. And there are those who caused much damage, such as the very great and famous wicked people who misled the world, and it was all through their wisdom and intellect. The essence of Judaism is only to go in simplicity and innocence, without any sophistries, and to look in everything one does that the name of God, may He be blessed, be there, and not to pay attention at all to one’s own honor, only whether there is honor of God, may He be blessed, in this; if so, one should do it, and if not—not. Then certainly one will never stumble.
And even when one falls, God forbid, into doubts, and there are those whose fall is very great indeed, God forbid, who fall into doubts and thoughts, and question God, may He be blessed, nevertheless the fall and descent are the ultimate ascent.
For know that the root of all creation is honor, for everything the Holy One, blessed be He, created, He created only for His honor, as it is written: “Everyone who is called by My name, and for My honor I created him,” etc. (Yoma 38). And since everything was created for His honor, it follows that His honor, may He be blessed, is the root of all creation. And even though He is entirely one, nevertheless in creation there are parts, and in each and every part of creation there is a unique aspect of honor, which is its root, as above. And this is the aspect of (Avot ch. 5): “By ten utterances the world was created—could it not have been created by one utterance? Rather, for reward and punishment, it was created by ten utterances.” And in every utterance there is a unique aspect of honor, which is its root, for honor is the root of everything, as above.
[Likutei Moharan, teaching 12]
The wise man full of suffering
And the wise man was always full of suffering, for he had established a name for himself that he was an extraordinary sage and craftsman, and a very great doctor. And some nobleman came and ordered him to make him a gold ring. And he made him a wonderfully beautiful ring, and engraved on it designs in marvelous ways, and engraved there a tree that was most wonderful. And the nobleman came, and the ring did not please him at all. And he suffered greatly, for he knew within himself that had this ring with this tree been in Spain, it would have been considered most important and wonderful.
Once a great nobleman came and brought a precious gemstone that had come from afar. He also brought him another gemstone with a design, and ordered him to engrave on the precious gemstone he brought a design like that one. And he engraved exactly the same design, only he erred in one thing, which no person could notice except he alone. And the nobleman came and received the gemstone, and it pleased him. And this wise man suffered greatly: how far my wisdom reaches, and now such an error should happen to me!
And also in the matter of medicine he had suffering: when he came to a sick person and gave him medicine, knowing clearly that if the sick person were destined for life he would certainly have to be healed by it, for it was a wonderful medicine—and afterward the patient died, and people said that he had died because of him. And he suffered greatly from this. And sometimes he gave a sick person medicine and he recovered, and people said: it was chance. And he was always full of suffering. When he needed clothing, he called the tailor and labored with him until he taught him to make the garment according to his will, as he knew. And the tailor managed and made the garment according to his will, only one corner he got wrong and did not make properly. And he was very distressed, for he knew within himself that although here it was fine, because they do not understand this, but if I were in Spain with this lapel, I would be a laughingstock. And so he was always full of suffering.
Stories of Rabbi Naḥman of Breslov
“And it has already been explained in the books and in our words in several places that one must distance oneself very, very much from examining books of philosophical inquiry at all, and even from books of inquiry composed by great men from among our Jewish brethren—one must distance oneself very much even from them, because they are very damaging to faith. For our faith received from our holy forefathers is enough for us. And this is a great principle and foundation in the service of God: to be innocent and upright, etc., to serve Him, may He be blessed, with simplicity, without any sophistries and inquiries whatsoever, absolutely not. Even from the sophistries found within the service of God itself, one must distance oneself greatly.”
[Likutei Moharan, Tinyana]
It is mentioned in the Gemara about a tanna (apparently Rabban Gamliel) that his teeth blackened from fasts because he had expressed himself with the phrase “I am ashamed of your words, Beit Shammai,” which clearly shows the great caution the Tannaim exercised when they held a different view.
He who gives an honest answer kisses the lips.