Another Look at “The Falsehood of Hishtadlut” (Column 279)
With God’s help
Following Rav Kook’s remarks cited in the previous column, I wanted to touch here on the question of divine involvement (some call this by the imprecise term “providence”) and our hishtadlut (human effort).[1] “The falsehood of hishtadlut” will later be explained in a double sense.
“My power and the might of my hand” (“My power and the might of my hand”)
The verses in Deuteronomy 8:17–18, ostensibly, warn us against a conception of “My power and the might of my hand”:
And you shall say in your heart: “My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.” But you shall remember the Lord your God, for it is He who gives you the power to acquire wealth, in order to uphold His covenant that He swore to your fathers, as it is this day.
Many are accustomed to interpret these verses as though they teach that the results of our actions are not really in our hands, and God is the one who brings them all about. Thus was born the bizarre thesis of “hishtadlut,” according to which we merely engage in empty “effort” in order to please God, but in the end God Himself produces the results. Therefore, saying “My power and the might of my hand” is a sin.
But the Ran, at the beginning of Derashah 10, writes about this:
What he meant is this: although it is true that individuals possess special aptitudes for certain things, just as some people are naturally suited to acquire wisdom, while others are predisposed to devise ways to gather and accumulate wealth, and accordingly it is true in a certain sense that the rich man can say, “My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth”—nevertheless, although that power is implanted within you, you must surely remember who gave you that power and from where it came. This is what is meant by the verse, “And you shall remember the Lord your God, for it is He who gives you the power to acquire wealth.” It does not say, “And you shall remember that the Lord your God gives you wealth,” for if it said that, it would imply that the power implanted in a person is not an intermediate cause in the accumulation of wealth, and that is not so. Therefore it says that although your own power produces this wealth, you should remember the One who gave you that power, blessed be He.
The Ran here argues against the conception I described above. He explains that the meaning of the verse, in context, is that God gives us power to act, but does not act in our place. When we win a war, that is not God’s action because of our prayers, and it is incorrect to say that our actions are merely “hishtadlut” (that is, empty acts that earn us divine assistance that produces the results). These are our actions, and the results come from our talent, wisdom, and dedication—except that all these are exercised through the powers we received from God. These verses call on us not to forget that.
Back to Rav Kook
In the previous column I cited Rav Kook’s remarks in Ein Ayah, Berakhot, chapter 1, sec. 101, regarding bread of shame (nahama de-kisufa). The Talmud there states that one who benefits from the labor of his hands is greater than one who fears Heaven.[2] Rav Kook explains that such a person spares himself the shame of receiving goodness from God (bread of shame), and that is what we discussed there.
But within his remarks there, Rav Kook touches on the subject of providence (= divine involvement) and writes:
The exalted feeling of one who benefits from the labor of his own hands is the most complete and finest of all the moral feelings in a person. For since the proper feeling is engraved in human nature—that because a person is free in his actions and can, through his diligence, perfect himself in all his affairs, it is not fitting that he sit with folded hands and wish that others would do for him. And with respect to divine providence as well, he ought to fix in his soul that it is proper to rely on it only where his own hand cannot reach to exert itself on its own. For wherever his hand can reach, this is the perfection that divine providence bestowed on him by giving him the power to prosper, so that his good may be in his own hand.
Here he adds that it is not proper for a person to expect God to do the work for him; rather, he must do it himself. More than that, he writes that reliance on God should come only when all possibilities have been exhausted and a person has no way to act naturally on his own. One might perhaps have understood him to mean only that we should not rely on God, but that one still may and should turn to Him in every situation. But a second reading shows that he means more than that: one should not turn to Him with requests except where we have no natural way to act.[3]
There is a considerable novelty here. Many think that dependence on God and our self-effacement before Him (like a child pleading before his father) is an advantage that points to fear of Heaven. They believe it is proper and desirable to turn to Him with every request, small or great, and the more the better. That is indeed the meaning of the term “fear of Heaven” in the Talmud, but it is not the finest path, since one who benefits from the labor of his hands is greater than one who fears Heaven. Rav Kook writes here that it is wrong to turn to God except where no other choice remains.
It is no wonder that at the end of the passage he says that divine providence gives a person the power to prosper, and this of course alludes to the Ran’s words quoted above from his homilies. That is, he sees the rejection of bread of shame as guidance also for a person’s conduct vis-à-vis God. A person is supposed to act on his own and not turn to God or rely on Him, except where there is no escaping it.
According to my view, that God is generally not involved, this is not a matter of recommendations and of what is more or less proper. I claim there is no point in turning to Him because we will not be answered. Therefore, when reciting the requests in prayer, one can at most have in mind situations in which there is no natural way out and ask God nevertheless to intervene (perhaps He does so on rare occasions. It is hard to rule that out categorically). But it is clear that there is no point or logic in turning to Him when there is a natural solution. There it is improper, and apparently He will not respond there either. There a person must act on his own.
Rav Kook continues and explains this in the next passage:
This moral power will lead a person to the loftiness of his stature, for he will also yearn to perfect himself in Torah, wisdom, and good deeds, all in order to benefit from his own labor and not have to be among those sustained by charity. And it will guide him to heights greater than the feeling of abstract fear of Heaven, which, although it spurs him to engage in service, may often be satisfied with little effort, and he can discharge his obligations through good and holy ideas that fill his heart.
He explains that the approach of fear of Heaven brings a person to slackness in his own effort, since in the end he understands that everything is in Heaven’s hands and he is only “making an effort.” In that way, things will not get done. By contrast, one who benefits from the labor of his hands does not turn to God but acts on his own. Why is this preferable? What does this argument add to the previous one? My feeling is that Rav Kook is in fact assuming here, implicitly, that without full and maximal action on our part, things will not happen. If you pray and do not act yourself, it simply will not happen, because God intervenes only where you cannot act on your own. One who benefits from the labor of his hands thus has an advantage over the person who fears Heaven also in terms of results. Again we see here the approach that God does not intervene and does not produce what happens here, at least in a situation where a person can act on his own. This is of course in direct contradiction to the “hishtadlut” approach, according to which a person merely makes an effort, while God is the one who produces the results. In this context, some cite Nachmanides’ words the decree is true and diligence is false (“the decree is true and diligence is false”) (Genesis 37:15), and many have followed in his footsteps. I am far from sure that he meant this, but even if he did—I disagree.
The opposing approach: Rabbi Shteinman’s words — the text
A few weeks ago I received a fascinating YouTube clip in which Rabbi Shteinman speaks about this subject with unusual openness and directness. At first glance it seems that he assumes the very conception Rav Kook rejects, the conception of “hishtadlut” (or “diligence”), but as I will argue below, I am not at all sure of that. This clip is interesting because of the text, but no less because of the subtext. I strongly recommend that everyone watch the video (about seven minutes). It is truly illuminating and teaches a great deal about people in general and about our dogmatic conceptions in particular. My comments from this point on are written as an accompaniment to viewing the video (which is why they follow the order of the discussion, even at the cost of some repetition). I add here a recommendation to watch it again after reading, in order to form a fresh impression of the remarks.
The video begins with a request by some communal operatives to receive a photograph of Rabbi Shteinman that will influence donors to contribute money to a kollel with 280 married full-time Torah students. He asks the petitioners jokingly whether it is written on Rosh Hashanah that a photograph is required. In other words: after all, a person’s sustenance is allotted to him from Rosh Hashanah (Beitzah 16a), and all he does is merely “hishtadlut,” which of course is not what brings the money.[4] He is basically telling them that the photograph is unnecessary. After all, all they need do is minimal hishtadlut, and God will already see to the money for them, having already determined in advance (on Rosh Hashanah itself) how much they will obtain. The conception expressed in his words is that excessive hishtadlut is objectionable, since it expresses lack of faith (or lack of fear of Heaven). This is of course in direct contradiction to what we saw above in Rav Kook, for whom fear of Heaven that leads to minimal hishtadlut will not in fact bring the results. Rather, diligence—that is, one who benefits from the labor of his hands (someone who acts seriously)—will attain them.[5]
Rabbi Shteinman goes on to say that the petitioners’ own high-flown talk about “hishtadlut” (= hishtadles) is mere lip service. They themselves do not really believe in God, and in fact nobody believes in Him. Again, the assumption underlying his remarks is that faith requires a reduction in hishtadlut (this is Rav Kook’s “fear of Heaven” approach), except that the world does not really believe. He explains that everyone recites the mantra that everything is in Heaven’s hands, but their actions testify that none of them really believes it (that is, really believes in God, on his view). For my own part, I join him on this point, and I too think that nobody believes in the thesis of “hishtadlut.” But in my opinion this is not a lack of faith in God but simply a sober view of reality. All these people certainly believe in God, but they understand that fear of Heaven does not bring results. Effort—without quotation marks—is what works, for God gave us the power to prosper. Rabbi Shteinman’s conception is not some exalted faith to whose level the public has not yet risen; rather, it is an incorrect conception that the public does not accept, and rightly so. So why does everyone (including the petitioners themselves) continue to recite slogans about the “duty of hishtadlut,” even though their actions testify like a thousand witnesses that they do not really believe it? Because everyone is convinced that this is indeed the correct faith, and that their failure to live by it is merely weakness and surrender to the inclination. No one has presented them with the possibility of thinking otherwise (as Rav Kook does), and therefore they do not see it as a legitimate possibility that a believing person could live with such a conception, and certainly, in their eyes, it is not legitimate to express it.
Is it really an opposing approach? The subtext
What was most interesting to me in this video was the constant smile hovering on Rabbi Shteinman’s lips as he said these harsh things (and of course the petitioners join his laughter in full agreement). Ostensibly, he is exposing the weakness of all believers and finding a deep flaw in their faith. He is rebuking them and the entire world, and yet he smiles as though he has just told a good joke. Moreover, if it had really been necessary, I am sure that in the end he would also have let them take the photograph in practice. Why? The photograph would not really bring money, would it? He himself surely knows the truth, doesn’t he? So why would he cooperate with this lack of faith and this surrender to inclination? I suspect it is because in the subtext he himself does not believe these slogans either. His words are spoken ironically. I understand this as an ironic rebuke directed at those who recite these slogans, and the discerning will understand. You who keep chanting slogans about the “duty of hishtadlut”—why are you trying so hard to act yourselves? Be honest and admit that it is not true (and not merely that you are not on the level). He is speaking according to their own assumptions. That is why he smiles, because in his eyes it really is a joke.
What surprises me even more here is that I am certain that anyone watching this video is not shocked and does not ask himself why Rabbi Shteinman is cooperating with this weakness of faith. The simple questions I raised here do not even occur to the viewer. Everyone shares in the rabbi’s and the petitioners’ amusement, and everyone understands that these are empty slogans, but the show must go on (for who has the nerve to come out against the pure worldview handed down to us by all our rabbis?). I would add that, in my estimation, most viewers are not really conscious of all this themselves. They smile, but the reason lies deep within them. Outwardly, at the level of consciousness, they continue to cling to these empty slogans and to recite with deep conviction empty mantras about the duty of hishtadlut, and apparently they really do believe it (at the conscious level, not in the subtext).
Immediately afterward the rabbi returns and says emphatically that this is a total lack of faith, and this gives me the sense that even Rabbi Shteinman himself is not aware of the rational and sober conception nesting within him. His irony is unconscious even to himself. He too continues to recite slogans about hishtadlut and pure, true faith, and alongside that about weak faith, which imagines that our deeds bring the results (the money), while in his subconscious he too understands that none of this is true.
The continuation of the video
At the next stage, the petitioners ask him where the boundary lies. So perhaps one should not make any effort at all and not collect money? Why stop only at not taking a photograph? One could simply sit at home. He then answers them that this is a stringency the public cannot withstand. That is, he encourages them to make an effort—in other words, to yield to the weakness of their faith—because they cannot manage without it. But why could they not? After all, he himself can declare that the money will come anyway (by virtue of their Torah study in the kollel, which would take place instead of wasting study time on unnecessary fundraising), just as he declared that the money would come without photographs. I am sure that these operatives, if they received a clear ruling from him, could live up to it and would sit and study in the kollel themselves instead of wasting Torah study time on fundraising trips. On the contrary, it would be much easier for them (see below, where one of them says this explicitly). This is further evidence that he himself does not really believe this absurd thesis.
After that, he moves on to say that we must not deceive God and that we should not think it is possible to deceive Him. It seems to me that here he means that we should conduct ourselves through ordinary natural means (because of our weakness), but not continue with slogans about hishtadlut. That is, we should perform these unnecessary acts, but without deception. One should honestly say: I do not believe in fear of Heaven here, but in one who benefits from the labor of his hands. And here I again wonder. Ostensibly, these are people (and it seems to me that this is the case with most of those who recite these slogans) who indeed believe that hishtadlut does not bring the results. But they do not succeed in internalizing that. In my opinion, they do not succeed because it is not true—meaning that deep in their hearts they too know it is not true, but they simply do not dare tell themselves so (the heart does not reveal to the mouth, “the heart does not reveal to the mouth”). But Rabbi Shteinman sees this as mere weakness. So what is the problem? Why not encourage them to overcome it? After all, they know that this is the truth; they are just too weak to live by it. So let him influence them to live by it anyway. I have no doubt that if he told them to do so, that is what they would do (and of course the kollel would close for lack of money). Again, in my opinion, this shows that he himself does not believe it deep down, and that he knows perfectly well that they do not either. Deep down (perhaps unconsciously?) he sees things exactly as Rav Kook does, but within the framework of Haredi conceptions and mantras he has no choice but to play the game. Instead of telling them they were educated on a falsehood, he tells them: keep making an effort, but do not recite falsehoods that you do not believe. It is possible that at later stages the generation will be fit to remove these absurd conceptions entirely, but for now this is the way he found to rebuke people for their lack of honesty.
In short, my claim is that he is not really rebuking them for lack of faith, but for lack of honesty. He argues that according to their own slogans, this is a lack of faith, and they are not being honest. By contrast, according to his own (unconscious?) view, this is a true conception, and it is proper to acknowledge it and say it explicitly. I am not entirely sure that he himself was aware of this, but in my estimation this is what was taking place in his heart, in his subconscious.
Providence according to one’s level
After that there is a hint that perhaps people of spiritual stature can live this way; that is, that God’s mode of conduct is a function of a person’s level. For the “real” believer (who understands that “hishtadlut” is unnecessary), God takes care of him even without it, while to weak believers (who think that hishtadlut does help), God gives only on the basis of hishtadlut. But this is an empty statement, since by the same logic I could say that God gives to everyone regardless of hishtadlut. Even those who made an effort received in the end only because God decided, not because of the effort. So from where does one invent the idea that God’s conduct varies according to a person’s level? There are, of course, sources for this among the medieval authorities (Rishonim), but I would ask them the same question as well.
In my opinion, this is a theory whose sole purpose is to allow us to behave normally while leaving the dogmatic slogan intact. This way we even have justification for engaging in acts of hishtadlut, because we are “not on the level,” and then everything is fine. We are even exempt from behaving as we ourselves think. That is, we actually know that hishtadlut is false, we do not manage to live that way, and therefore we really must live according to our level (that is, make an effort). If someone dared consider acting in accordance with the dogmas on which he was educated, that is, not making an effort, he would of course be rebuked (because there is a “duty of hishtadlut”). In this way, there is justification for acting as usual, but not because it is really necessary; rather, because those who are not on the level are obligated in the duty of hishtadlut. Thus each of us can do what really makes sense and is right to do, and we do not even have to give up the absurd dogmas we were educated on.
At the margins of this, one wonders why he cannot tell them to rise above and not make an effort, in which case they would automatically be on the higher level that does not require hishtadlut, and again everything would be fine (the money would come directly from God Himself). Why simply make peace with weaknesses? And again, if he really told them such a thing, I am fairly convinced that that is what they would do, and according to the “hishtadlut” approach, since their level would have risen dramatically, the money would also come without the hishtadlut. So what is the problem? Why cooperate with such faithless acts instead of encouraging people to rise higher? In the video they themselves ask the rabbi (at minute 3:20): is the conclusion that they should strengthen their faith, that is, give up the hishtadlut? The questioner adds that his wife would be very happy if he did not go abroad to collect funds. In other words, they are offering him precisely the obvious way out. But he of course does not cooperate, and continues to urge them to make an effort (but Heaven forbid without the photograph. Travel abroad, waste Torah study, knock on doors, humiliate yourselves—but do not take a photograph!!) and only asks that they not deceive themselves. This is really a loop within a loop, with internal contradictions built into it, and in my opinion it is impossible to understand the course of the discussion without assuming that there is a subtext intruding into the text. Therefore I surmise that the rabbi himself, deep down, does not really believe this.
The conclusion is that they should travel without the photograph—but travel. He adds, “We are all weak” (implicitly: he too). If there can be a stronger hint than that to the subtext, I do not know what it is. The insistence on not taking the photograph is probably only there in order to preserve the dogma, even though everyone (including he himself) acts against it. This is the compromise between theory (the absurd one) and reality (the cruel one). This is the price paid to Haredi dogmas that do not stand the test of reality or the test of Haredi behavior itself, and it is what makes it possible to behave in a normal and sensible way within an absurd theory.
The proof
Now we come to the proof. Later in the video there is a story from one of the petitioners about someone who came to his house and brought him 60,000 dollars without his having to leave home. There, then, is proof that hishtadlut is false (!!). And the conclusion is, of course, that… one should travel, but without a photograph, Heaven forbid. And I, dense and uncomprehending, do not understand: is not the obvious conclusion that there is no need to travel at all? How does one arrive at the compromise that one should travel but without the photograph (which, as noted, is a minor matter)? There before your very eyes is precisely the compromise I described above between reality (the cruel one) and theory (the absurd one).
Later on (around minute 5:00), the questioner apologizes and explains that his hishtadlut is not all that great. Some travel for months, but he is a righteous man who travels only for a few days. See how great his faith is. True, it is not perfect, but he is still undoubtedly a person of spiritual stature. When his level rises still further, he will not travel at all. This agreed-upon falsehood continues, with revolting sanctimony on all sides. It is hard to believe that one is actually watching such a grotesque spectacle before one’s eyes. Everyone knows what the truth is and dances around it, tossing out empty slogans that none of them believes, without daring to touch the elephant in the room.
Later (around 6:00), the rabbi laments that people give charity before Passover and then have an excuse and do not give throughout the rest of the year, and that this is a very great calamity. The calamity of the generation (!). And I am astonished: but this is God’s decision, not people’s. So what is the problem? What is the calamity here? Do people’s decisions determine how much money will arrive? Wasn’t that already determined on Rosh Hashanah? This duality between text and subtext continues throughout the conversation. It is clear that none of the parties really believes the slogans being tossed around there, but the discourse continues on two axes in parallel: the natural and sensible axis (weakness of faith) and the bizarre theological-dogmatic axis (which is, of course, the pure truth that we are not on the level to receive).
Two remarks on the method
I spelled out, parsed, and expounded upon every detail of the bizarre spectacle presented in the video, and not for nothing. My purpose here was to show just how ridiculous the hair-splitting around hishtadlut is. I do this by pointing out that if I go along with them, I have far better hairsplitting arguments that lead to opposite conclusions. If, however, you decide not to engage in such casuistry, then in truth everything is superfluous—both the video and my remarks. The obvious conclusion is, of course, that one should do whatever is needed in the most maximalist way possible, because only that brings the results. One simply needs to muster the courage to give up these absurd dogmas, and perhaps even dare to say so openly, even if it feels like heresy.
Let me add another remark about paternalism. Usually I am wary of claims that explain to a person what he really thinks and what lies in the subtext of his words. In discussion, we ought to address what a person says, not what we think he thinks or what lies inside him. Paternalistic claims are usually a way of evading argument, and they do not allow for discussion. A person raises arguments and we explain to him what he really thinks (that is, what the Jewish point deep within him is). But where there are clear indications of such duality—that is, of contradictions between the declared way of thinking and the actual way of behaving—there, reference to the subtext is called for. It seems to me hard to escape such paternalism (where I explain to Rabbi Shteinman what he really believes in his subconscious) when one watches the discourse in the video. The contradictions cry out to high heaven. In such a case, I simply do not believe people’s declarations about what they themselves think. It is important to me to say that this is not necessarily a lie (not even a holy lie. I do not suspect the rabbi of simply lying; at most this would be a holy lie)[6]. For my own part, I tend to think it is self-deception. A person is unwilling to stand before a mirror and honestly admit that he does not truly believe in the dogmas on which he was raised, that is, that he is a “heretic.”
Here is the place to return to the term in the title of the column, “the falsehood of hishtadlut.” For me this term has two meanings: on the one hand, it describes the conception expressed by Rabbi Shteinman (in the text, not necessarily in the subtext), that hishtadlut is false; and on the other hand, it hints at my own conception, that viewing our actions as mere “hishtadlut” is an agreed-upon falsehood.
Two conceptions of hishtadlut
I mentioned that the conception apparently presented (in the text, not in the subtext) by Rabbi Shteinman differs from Rav Kook’s. Rabbi Shteinman assumes that everything is in God’s hands, and hishtadlut is false. Rav Kook, by contrast, expresses a more balanced and moderate conception, according to which some things come from God and some are brought about by us. And I, for my part, advocate a third conception, according to which God disengages from the world as the generations pass, and today He is already almost uninvolved (if at all).[7]
What I showed in my comments on the video is that the first conception, according to which hishtadlut is false and everything comes from God, is absurd. But this really is a childish conception, even if many worthy people hold it. Against my own view—the third one, of disengagement from the world—many have raised Rav Kook’s conception, the second one here, according to which God is involved, even if not always. They say that I have no way to prove that there is no involvement.
Do the claims I raised here against the first approach (Rabbi Shteinman’s) have any significance in the debate between the second and third approaches? After all, I am claiming that even people who hold the intermediate approach do not really believe the conception they present. In practice, they do not behave in a way that fits it. I argue that the claims I raised here are definitely relevant to the debate between me and the more moderate approach as well. There are at least two points here that are relevant to that debate too.
First, even this partial admission (that not everything is in God’s hands) usually comes only after the kinds of arguments I raise. In everyday life, you will almost never hear this conception. On the contrary: in everyday life, we all try to understand God’s deeds in every falling leaf, and certainly when a person is harmed or dies. There is always the question whether one can understand or not, what the explanation is, whether it satisfies us or not, but the shared background assumption is that of course everything that happens is the work of God’s hands. Therefore this partial admission (the move from the first approach to the second) is itself an achievement that I record, among other things, to my own credit.
Second, there is here a lesson no less important, which also pertains to the debate with Rav Kook’s middle approach. This video demonstrates the possibility that people educated in a certain way will recite principles that deep down they themselves do not believe and do not live by, simply because they have become accustomed to them. The video shows how resilient the dogmas on which we were educated are, and how difficult it is for us to give them up. Although, as I have shown, everyone understands their absurdity, they continue to see deviation from them as weakness and the counsel of the evil inclination, and together with that, of course, they do not even entertain the possibility of giving up those deviations on the practical plane (because deep down it is clear to them that these are not deviations, but simply sensible behavior). This demonstration is certainly relevant also to the more balanced arguments raised against me. After all, the education we received accustomed us to God’s involvement (in one dosage or another). When I claim there is no involvement, I am pushing back against a very deeply rooted habit in religious education. It is no wonder that various strained excuses arise, such as that God is playing hide-and-seek with us and does not allow us to see His providence—all in order not to give up the dogma on which we were educated (our sacred tradition).
Moreover, these points apply not only on the plane of argument but also on the practical plane. On the site and in the book (the second in my trilogy), I show again and again that in our actual behavior there is no real expression of the fact that we truly believe in divine involvement. Rav Kook himself calls on us to make every effort within our power and ties the results to that. Only where things are not in our hands should one turn to God, but there, in any case, that does not pertain to our hishtadlut. In addition, for every event we have natural explanations, and even where we do not, we always attribute that to the fact that we did not fully understand the situation. As I mentioned in the book, medical studies never control for the effect of prayers and commandments, and no one even thinks to take prayer into account as a parameter that affects healing—not even among God-fearing researchers and physicians. The same applies to commissions of inquiry that examine an accident or some other event. Their conclusions will never be that this was the hand of God and that there is no natural cause. Even the greatest fearers of Heaven will not be satisfied with such a conclusion, but will seek to get to the bottom of the truth and find the cause (I do not mean in their essays in Sabbath pamphlets, but in life). In other words, everyone tacitly assumes that everything is nature, and yet together with that they continue to preach that God is the healer and we are only engaging in hishtadlut, and to speak about medical salvations and miracles or punishments from Heaven—none of which finds any practical expression in their own lives. It hardly needs saying that usually these are phenomena that also have a simple statistical explanation (see the ridiculous example of the 60,000 dollars in the video).
All the arguments and contradictions between behavior and theory appear also among those who hold the middle approach, the one that sees the world as nature and does not regard everything as the work of God’s hands. There too, people still use tools similar to those we saw in the video. If so, I argue that it is worth asking whether the same duality I pointed to in the extreme conception expressed in the video does not underlie them as well. Bottom line: people do not behave in practice in accordance with the conceptions they profess, and that means there is a subtext. Therefore I return and claim that most people agree with my conceptions (the third approach, of disengagement from the world), but are simply unwilling to admit it.
For a discussion of my claims themselves about God’s disengagement from the world, see the next column, in which I plan to address Rabbi Moshe Rat’s critique of my approach.
[1] My view on this matter is set out at length in the book Ein Adam Shalit Ba-Ruach, the second in my trilogy.
[2] Stranger still, the Talmud there implies that the advantage of one who benefits from the labor of his hands over one who fears Heaven is specifically in the World to Come (both have this world, but only one who benefits from the labor of his hands has the World to Come).
[3] With some strain one could perhaps understand him to mean that God can always act, and does act, but when the matter is within our power it is preferable not to sit with folded hands but to do it ourselves (in addition to turning to Him). This does not seem plausible to me (why turn to Him if we are doing it ourselves?!).
[4] Those who take this a step further claim that lack of hishtadlut may lead to the loss of what was decreed for us on Rosh Hashanah. This is already a truly impressive pinnacle of casuistry: our actions do not affect reality, but lack of action does affect it. What was decreed is not certain to materialize (where, then, is God’s awesomeness?!), but that is not because of our actions; it is because of our lack of action.
[5] Here is the place to refer the reader to Column 271, where I pointed out that people take actions involving prohibition despite the slogans that this is all merely hishtadlut. This is, of course, absurd, since if anything, the prohibition should only prevent divine assistance rather than draw it closer. In the present case we are dealing only with excessive hishtadlut, not with hishtadlut through prohibition.
[6] On holy lies, see Column 21.
[7] In my opinion, in terms of the gradations between the two poles, Rav Kook is fairly close to my own conception. I understand him as pushing God’s involvement off into rather remote corners.
Discussion
With your pardon, my feeling is that this twisted discussion was exhausted long ago, and anyone with common sense who was not educated on a passive, narrow-minded, exilic ultra-Orthodox outlook lives in harmony with the fact that “the one cannot do without the other.”
An article by Rabbi Aviner on the matter –
https://www.srugim.co.il/159402-%D7%9C%D7%90-%D7%9E%D7%A1%D7%A4%D7%99%D7%A7-%D7%A8%D7%A7-%D7%9C%D7%94%D7%AA%D7%A4%D7%9C%D7%9C-%D7%90%D7%95-%D7%A8%D7%A7-%D7%9C%D7%94%D7%9C%D7%97%D7%9D-%D7%A6%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9A-%D7%92%D7%9D-%D7%95
“Through us and from within us” (a phrase constantly on his son’s lips)
With God’s help, 1 Adar 5780
Perhaps Rabbi Aharon Yehuda Leib Steinman’s criticism was directed at what the questioner blurted out: that without the photograph, the donor would not give. That would be excessive hishtadlut. Is a letter from a leading Torah sage testifying to the kollel not enough? I would guess that the rabbi objected to the need for a showy presentation, which runs counter to the modesty and simplicity that characterized him.
Perhaps the test for excessive hishtadlut is when it leads to breaking out of the framework of modest, value-driven conduct appropriate to a life of Torah—something which, beyond being intrinsically deficient, also testifies to weakness of faith, in the thought that “without this, it won’t work.” Faith leads a person to set value-based limits on his hishtadlut: to act vigorously, but without blurring or “rounding off corners” in one’s ethical demands.
Best regards, Shatz
By the way, the post’s author can test empirically how much a photo adds to persuading customers. Just compare how many orders come via Facebook, where the author’s picture is displayed, and how many from the “virtual store,” where there is no picture of the author 🙂
And perhaps that is why one wears a mask on Purim—to teach that even without showing our pretty face, we can still show a pleasant face to one another.
Well said on the response, Hami.
This is what is called “panentheism” (not to be confused with pantheism).
The Holy One, blessed be He, fills reality (including us, with a “portion of God from above”), and in essence, when we act, God acts.
God’s hand operates through our hishtadlut (which, of course, had better be positive).
The point is that Rabbi Michi is a classical monotheist (tzimtzum literally understood), and he does not accept panentheistic conceptions.
Once you understand that Rabbi Kook was not a monotheist, it comes out completely differently from Rabbi Michi’s view—that there is also human hishtadlut, which is in practice also God’s action. Man acts divinity.
Thanks again for the article. The continuation of the verse “And you say in your heart, ‘My power and the might of my hand’” is – “in order to establish His covenant that He swore to your fathers.” Yehezkel Kaufmann’s “double causality,” according to which events occur ostensibly in a rational causal process while being directed toward a certain purpose by God. Hegel calls this “the cunning of divine reason.” And the divine cunning is so sophisticated that it explains Rabbi Steinman’s perplexity, that of the other speakers in the situation, and probably all of ours.
Are you unwilling to make Maimonides’ distinction (regarding free choice) between God’s providence over the collective and His providence over the individual? After all, the individual can make efforts, but with the collective it is more complicated. That is, God continues to oversee the processes, but individuals have choice and exclusive responsibility for what occurs.
As someone who grew up in Haredi education, and in his youth had much contact with people of faith [until I sobered up and decided I do not accept it], I can testify that those people are not deceiving themselves. Rather, since the theory does not teach what the limit of hishtadlut is, one can never know whether I have already done my duty [and from that point on it makes no difference if I exert myself more, because everything is decreed], or whether this action too is required of me [and without it I have not fulfilled my duty in accordance with my level of faith, and thus I really will lose out]. This truly brings a lot of hesitation, etc. And Rabbi Steinman’s intention was apparently that in his view the photograph was already something beyond what is needed—but since these matters are not absolute and clear-cut, he would not forbid it.
Rabbi Dessler defined it this way: whenever, if a negative result comes, the person would reproach himself for not having done more, then he is obligated to do more, because that is a sign that he is not certain that this is not part of his duty of hishtadlut.
Therefore, from their perspective I see no contradiction at all in what you presented here. All the absurdities can be explained simply, and they truly believe it; only at the practical boundary—how much this projects onto the actual obligation of hishtadlut—do they disagree [and many indeed refrain from many actions that could help them for these reasons].
As stated, for my own part I stopped accepting this many years ago, for the realistic reasons you raise here.
Hami, I don’t fully understand these statements. Doesn’t this depend on our choice? (Are we just marionettes?) If so, then what is the meaning of saying that He acts through us (it is we who act). And if not—then the whole thing is uninteresting.
This is an interesting article, but in my opinion it speaks in several different tones and mixes them together. True, it represents Rav Kook’s view that I presented. But you are really not right in claiming that Rabbi Steinman’s view characterizes only Haredim and narrow-minded people. First, he himself was not such a person. Second, as I demonstrated in my remarks, such statements appear אצל everyone (including Rabbi Aviner in his article here. For example, in his discussion of how much one should make efforts by resorting to a doctor, he himself flatly contradicts Rav Kook’s words and his own words. After all, Rav Kook and he himself said one must make every effort that is in one’s power, and the Holy One, blessed be He, is responsible only for what is not in our hands. From this it follows that there is no limit to the duty of hishtadlut, and there is no point in all the discussion he has about a doctor abroad and the like).
The assumption that there is divine cunning is precisely the object of my criticism. There is no cunning whatsoever; it is all made up.
In the book I raised such a possibility. I am inclined not to accept it, because there are no indications of divine involvement on the collective plane either, and also because what happens to the collective is an aggregate of what happens to the individuals who compose it. The laws of nature and human choices determine both this and that.
This is exactly the self-deception I am talking about (the chatter about the boundary of the duty of hishtadlut, and of course in practice, when there is medical or other distress, there is no boundary at all and they do everything necessary and even more, hysterically). In the column I also showed indications of its existence.
Even if one accepts the distinction between individual and collective, it needs to be defined much better. Does it mean that in the case of the individual there is no involvement at all, while with the collective everything is in His hands? In the individual there is no involvement at all, and with the collective it is sometimes in His hands? In the individual the involvement is sometimes, and with the collective it is always? In the individual there is a little involvement and with the collective there is more? In my opinion, the common view is that both in the individual and in the collective there is involvement, perhaps in different doses. So there is no real distinction. Also, defining what is an individual and what is a collective is neither simple nor sharp. There are events of the individual that have public impact, and public events that have no real impact… In short, this seems to me the same vague apologetic discourse that tries to save accepted dogmas from criticism (what in politics is called “constructive ambiguity”).
Empty casuistry.
The writer has a hobby of exaggerating the Haredi position and thereby making it look ridiculous.
But the truth is that this duality between trust and effort is already found in Hazal, in the Gemara, in the Rishonim, and in the Aharonim. It did not begin with the Haredim.
Endless words and articles have been written about it, and no Haredi rabbi disagrees with the essence of Rav Kook’s words (of course the wording is different, and there are small differences in content too). Certainly our role is to act with the strength given to us and not rely on the Holy One, blessed be He—not because He does not intervene, but because we have a role here in the world.
There is no contradiction at all between this and personal providence. The Holy One, blessed be He, creates the mission for us: the situation, the tools, the abilities, etc.—and that is personal providence—and we need to act within the situation He created.
Our task is not to be lazy, but on the other hand not to enter into pressure or despair lest we not succeed in our task. For our whole task is to do as best we can what is within our ability in accordance with the situation. We did not create the situation, and what lies beyond our ability we are not required to do. Therefore the action should be done with trust, that is, with serenity.
Now to the video.
Rabbi Steinman criticizes the pressure of the activist (the request for a picture, together with the sentence “without this they won’t give him, that’s how it works today,” apparently seems improper to him), the feeling of “who knows what will happen” if he doesn’t have a picture of the rabbi.
He is basically telling him: relax. Do what the Holy One, blessed be He, wants from you calmly. At worst there will be no money, and then the Holy One, blessed be He, wants the kollel to close; nothing terrible happened—we did our part.
Just to sharpen the point:
The Hazon Ish, in Faith and Trust, explains that the decision what constitutes a proper act of hishtadlut does not depend on the quantity of acts, but on the inner psychological stance of the one making the effort.
That is, there is no limit of hishtadlut up to which I am obligated and beyond which I am not. I am obligated to do everything, but מתוך a psychological stance that I am only carrying out a role, and therefore I am completely calm. If I don’t succeed—then I don’t.
By contrast, if a person does some small act, but it is an act of pressure or despair (the example is Joseph, who asked the chief cupbearer to mention him to Pharaoh and was punished for it—not because this was too much hishtadlut, but because it was an act of despair and not a rational calculation, since it was unlikely that an Egyptian minister would remember to do a favor for a foreign prisoner).
Someone who understands the concept of trust and hishtadlut this way is not puzzled by Rabbi Steinman, and also does not see a big difference between Rav Kook and Haredi thinkers.
Rabbi, the Pele Yoetz already answered your words:
Our sages, of blessed memory, said: “and he shall surely heal” (Exodus 21:19). From here we learn that the Torah gave permission to the physician to heal (Berakhot 60a). They further said on the verse (Deuteronomy 28:59), “and evil and faithful illnesses”—that they are faithful in their mission (Rashi there), for when they are sent, it is decreed upon them that they not depart except on a certain day, by a certain person, by means of a certain medicine (Yalkut Shimoni, Yitro, sec. 289). And our sages, of blessed memory, further said (Sanhedrin 17b) that a person should not live in a place where there is no physician:
And behold, inquiry has found a place to rest, since the Name causes death and gives life, what can the physician give or add? Surely, if it has been decreed that he die, then even if all the physicians in the world stood by him, they would not be able to save him from death. And regarding this they said: the physician’s error is the Creator’s will. And none can save from His hand. And if it is decreed that he live without a physician, the Holy One, blessed be He, turns events around and brings him his cure, for the Omnipresent has many ways, and with Him is abundant redemption, and He will send His word and heal them. But the answer to this and to many such inquiries is that there are three kinds of decrees. If he is a man who has merit to suspend judgment, and his merit is strong and his fortune robust, then even if he has no physician and does things contrary to his illness, he will not die but will surely live. And there are those upon whom death has been decreed, Heaven forbid; if he guards himself with every protection in the world, the watchman keeps vigil in vain, and the physicians will neither help nor save. But there are those who, because of their sins, are left under nature: if they guard themselves and conduct themselves medically according to nature, they will live; and if not, they will die. And concerning such a case it is said (Proverbs 13:23), “and some perish without justice”:
Therefore every person must take thought and must engage in medical treatment when needed, for if he does not do so and perishes without justice, behold he becomes liable for his own life. And he is indeed liable for his life, since he transgresses what is written in the Torah (Deuteronomy 4:15), “and you shall greatly guard your souls.” And a person who does not guard himself and does not act according to nature to seek healing for his illness when it is in his power to do so—besides being punished for transgressing what is written in the Torah—also thereby relies on a miracle, and if a miracle is done for him, it is deducted from his merits (Shabbat 32a):
1. The avoidance of being photographed reminds me of a story—I don’t remember about whom—but briefly: an unsuccessful fundraiser approaches a successful fundraiser and asks him why he succeeds.
He answers that when the unsuccessful one comes to a rich man, he shows him how much he honors and esteems him. From this the rich man concludes that money is good, and therefore it is worth keeping it with himself.
The successful fundraiser, on the other hand, comes to the rich man and explains to him how unimportant money is and how important the world to come is, and therefore the rich man invests from his money.
I think this is Rabbi Steinman’s motive: if we change our behavior and our culture to be like that of the rich, it will not cause them to donate more.
From there Rabbi Steinman simply took it into the area of proving to them that they do not believe what they themselves say.
2. What the rabbi credits himself with in admitting part of the point is a bit exaggerated. Even Nahmanides on the Torah says that this is the power of free choice; one cannot believe in free choice without admitting this much. In my opinion the overwhelming majority believe in free choice, but as the rabbi said, if one does not believe in free choice, it is simply not an interesting discussion.
And proof that it is not the very intensity of vigorous hishtadlut that is objectionable, but rather the use of improper means or the psychological stance that the hishtadlut is what causes the result—after all, Rabbi Aharon Yehuda Leib Steinman made efforts far beyond being photographed in order to raise funds for the support of Torah. Even at a very advanced age, Rabbi Steinman traveled abroad frequently in order to inspire men of means to contribute.
Vigorous hishtadlut is good when it is done in the accepted manner of the emissaries of the rabbis in all generations, who went out to the Diaspora and combined fundraising activity with spiritual influence on Diaspora Jews through classes and sermons they gave, in which they strengthened in their listeners’ hearts a love of Torah (as described generally and in detail in Dr. Avraham Yaari’s book Emissaries of the Land of Israel).
But to engage in the acts of PR people and advertisers, with the thought that being photographed in this or that pose is the cause of success—that already shows smallness of faith, aside from the spiritual damage involved in entering a culture of ostentatious external showiness, the complete opposite of the demand to “walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6).
With blessings for a good month, Shatz
With God’s help, 1 Adar 5780
About the intensity of the duty of hishtadlut even when the result is guaranteed without it—Mordechai the Jew teaches us when he says to Esther: “For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place.”
The people of Israel will be saved in any case, even if Esther does not act, for God promised in His Torah: “And yet for all that, when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not reject them, nor will I abhor them to destroy them…” But Esther is nevertheless obligated to act, to risk her life and be forever forbidden to her husband, in order to fulfill man’s duty to act with all his powers and beyond his powers, for for this man was created: “to act with God.”
Best regards, Shatz
The writer has a hobby of attributing to me things I did not say (perhaps in order to ridicule?). I did not write anywhere that this began with the Haredim. On the contrary, I brought a source from the Rishonim (Nahmanides), and there are others; these things are ancient. And yet I argue that this is a bizarre view that nobody really believes in.
As for your description, I can only refer readers to the video. It speaks for itself. All the more so because the description you offer here as an alternative is the same thing I myself described.
I must say that sometimes the Haredi outlook really does seem ridiculous to me, but I do not need to make it look ridiculous. It does that quite well on its own.
Those fellows wanted only a photograph, in perfect calm. Why does that contradict faith? Is going around knocking on wealthy people’s doors not hysterical anti-hishtadlut, while a photograph is? These are baseless excuses with no foundation, exactly as I wrote.
All the best.
That is exactly what I wrote. If there is free choice, the whole business never gets off the ground. And if there isn’t, the whole business is uninteresting.
What is the difference between speaking to the philanthropist’s heart and showing him a photograph? What is the difference between bringing Rabbi Steinman himself abroad and bringing a photograph of him? The first is proper and sufficiently minor hishtadlut, and the second is excessive hishtadlut? These really are words of nonsense.
The doctrine of faith and trust is a complete doctrine, and its foundations lie in Kabbalah. Nahmanides said these things not because of some Haredi “hashkafah” he was bound to and had to maintain tribal dogmas and beliefs, but out of his own grasp and perception of reality. The rabbi treats this topic a bit lightly (perhaps this is indeed a reaction to general Haredi shallowness). The rabbi latches superficially onto these statements and does not really try to understand their content. Indeed, at the superficial level of the matter the rabbi has a justified claim, but he addresses this issue (as with the issue of divine providence) at a coarse resolution. It is impossible really to understand these things without studying and understanding Kabbalah. It is like a person who has never studied any physics trying to criticize some popular-science article on Ynet written by a physicist.
In short: indeed there is a limit to the duty of hishtadlut. The rabbi has not noticed, but even he used the expression “excessive hishtadlut.” And that is precisely where trust in God comes in. That is, the difference between a person who makes efforts and trusts in God and one who makes efforts and does not trust comes down to one word: “madness.” One who does not believe goes crazy beyond his capacity (that is, has a nervous breakdown and collapses), and here too lies the rabbi’s mistake: indeed God’s conduct depends on the person. That is, the Holy One, blessed be He, enters to the extent that the person allows and lets Him enter (as the Kotzker Rebbe said). Only, without making an effort in the first place, one cannot speak of “giving Him room to enter,” because the space—the space for action—did not exist in the first place. In childish Haredi language this means that a person who does nothing will not recognize gratitude to God at all, because he will think that what comes to him is obvious, like a baby who thinks food gets to his plate by some law of nature, or that money grows on trees. Until a person acts on his own powers, he does not recognize God’s goodness. Because truly God only helps a person and does not act in his place. And the more room a person gives God to help him, so too (if he is worthy of it, if he is righteous) God will help him more. (Kabbalah has an almost physical terminology for everything I said—through sefirot, raising mayin nukvin, unifications, etc.) In the sense of the commandment of loading: one is only required to help the one who is loading, not to do the work in his place. And truly the purpose of all this is the knowledge of God itself and thanking Him. That is an even greater value than the specific goal the person sought to achieve through his action. In fact, the hishtadlut (the action) is the building of a vessel for the entrance of the light (the success of the action). The light comes from above and the vessel comes from below. It is like a human being who is made of matter (vessel) and spirit (light). Without spirit the body dies. That is, without God’s help the action will not succeed. Two people will perform the same action and one will succeed and one will not, because God helped one and not the other. And the conditions for God’s help are: 1. to be righteous (to be worthy of His help—He will not help you do an evil deed). 2. to pray. 3. to trust in Him that He will assist you (to make room for Him, not to go crazy).
I also did not understand what the rabbi said: “But this is an empty statement, because by the same token I could say that the Holy One, blessed be He, gives to everyone regardless of hishtadlut. Those who made efforts also in the end received only because the Holy One, blessed be He, decided, and not because of the hishtadlut.” The question is not what you could say, but what you do in the end say. I think I explained how hishtadlut plays a role here. I believe Nahmanides. He was not some Haredi who needed to maintain a faith. He was a kabbalist who spoke from his own attainment. If the rabbi does not understand, then let him study (ask him). If the rabbi does not believe him, then let him say so explicitly and be done with it.
With God’s help, 2 Adar 5780
To Rabbi M.A. – greetings,
Although my words were stated clearly, I will make one more “minor hishtadlut” to explain them to you:
The difference between proper hishtadlut and improper hishtadlut is not the intensity of the effort. As I showed, Rabbi Steinman did not refrain from grueling trips abroad. The difference is in the nature of the action. Going on a journey of spiritual influence full of classes and sermons is a fitting path for a Torah leader. By contrast, the conduct of advertisers and PR people seemed to Rabbi Steinman to be something “not fitting,” and resorting to it out of the thought that without it things will not work is smallness of faith. Can God not save us without our giving up the ways of simplicity and modesty?
Best regards, Shatz
By the way, Esther too does not do just anything to influence the king. She puts on royal garments and bows, but does not break the fast, even though her appearance after three days of fasting is not the most charming thing 🙂
I actually do feel a kind of paternalism toward my own approach. True, one cannot put one’s finger exactly on it and define what is a natural event and what is an event in which the Holy One, blessed be He, helped and acted. But in broad observation over a wide span—I do see divine providence in natural processes. That is how I see the Return to Zion, the miracle of Purim, and also a broad part of my own private life.
I don’t know why the concept of hishtadlut is attributed to Nahmanides.
Nahmanides himself explicitly asks in his commentary on Job why one needs to prepare for war if there is providence, and his answer is that most human beings are abandoned to chance and are not under providence, and because of this uncertainty one has to prepare.
And his view is explicit that one whom the Holy One, blessed be He, takes care of does not need to do anything at all (except, of course, put into his mouth the food that the Holy One, blessed be He, sends him, and one must consider what is included in that).
And the one who needs to act is only one over whom there is no providence at all.
In short, sporadic providence that cannot be ruled out 🙂
By the way, hishtadlut is also necessary for prayer. Until a person tries with his own strength to reach his goal and fails, and sees that no one in the world can help him (including himself)—that is, until he despairs of his own powers (in the language of Baal HaSulam)—he cannot truly pray. Only a person who has despaired of his own powers comes to recognize that there is no one in the world who will help him except the Holy One, blessed be He, and only then does a true request to God really burst forth from his heart that He help him (forgive the schmaltz and childish rhetorical flourish). In fact, even if he still has not uttered a word with his mouth, but this recognition already dwells in his heart, that itself is already considered a kind of prayer (prayer of order zero. In fact, even if he has despaired of human beings and his own powers but does not believe in God at all, the conscious effect will be the same. He is effectively turning to the Holy One, blessed be He, without knowing that that is what he is doing. A bit like someone who believes in karma, who is also a kind of believer in God who rewards good and evil. For God is an objective reality, like a rock. If you collide with it, you will experience it even if you declare until tomorrow that you do not believe in rocks). Without hishtadlut this recognition will never come into being. He does not really know that he needs the Holy One, blessed be He. Therefore every word he utters from his mouth will be a lie. He is not truly turning to the Holy One, blessed be He.
Regarding Rabbi Steinman, I did not see the video, but all the particulars of the discussion here are irrelevant. It is impossible to lay down general rules about what is included in hishtadlut and what is not, except for the issue of madness. Everything else is a matter of judgment and changes from case to case and from person to person. Apparently in that case, in his judgment, a photograph was already madness. And for other people maybe even fundraising itself would be madness. It depends on the eye of the evaluator. Usually a person is supposed to evaluate this relative to himself. But Rabbi Steinman could (perhaps) also evaluate it in those yeshiva men (that is, whether they were going crazy or not). The same goes for doctors, etc.
Ailon,
I did not say that Nahmanides was Haredi or that he needed to defend anything. I said that I do not agree with this doctrine (and I added that I am also not sure he himself meant it).
There is no reason whatsoever to distinguish between madness and non-madness. The question is whether the Holy One, blessed be He, is involved in the world and acts in it contrary to the laws of nature, or not. My opinion on the matter is known. But whichever way you look at it: if things depend on you and the Holy One, blessed be He, does not always act for you, then you must make every effort you can. It makes no difference whether in madness or not in madness. As much as you can and should. That is also what Rav Kook writes in the passage I cited (he says to rely on the Holy One, blessed be He, only where I cannot act. No connection to madness and the like). At most you can say that in his opinion, where your ability ends, turn to the Holy One, blessed be He, and perhaps He will save you. That is his approach, unlike what emerges from Nahmanides’ words, who speaks about all diligence (in that passage. It is known that there are contradictions in his teaching on this matter and others, and also on miracles at the end of Parashat Bo, and these things are old news). And if things depend on the Holy One, blessed be He, then why make efforts at all? To this they invented the “duty of hishtadlut,” which is empty verbiage invented only to allow people to do what really must be done without giving up the dogmas.
And as a side note: you keep repeating your lofty kabbalistic knowledge as the solution to all difficulties. Since I studied it for several years (I do not think less than you, though not Rabbi Ashlag), I do not accept these statements at all. Kabbalah solves no philosophical or logical problem. Not even one. Anything that can be solved in kabbalistic terms can also be solved without them, and vice versa. I wrote this too in the trilogy.
Nahmanides writes many things, and I already remarked above that there are contradictions in his teaching (also in his words at the end of Parashat Bo). But the saying “diligence is falsehood” was said by him, and not for nothing is it quoted from him by all the champions of “hashkafah.” It is certainly true that there are other places where a somewhat different position is expressed, but my concern here is not to determine the exact purchase of Nahmanides’ view.
I ask that this time the rabbi read my words carefully despite their length
The rabbi is getting hung up on the concept of “obligation” in this matter. Obligations indeed do not interest me either (obligation is a self-righteous concept; same with rights. It really is repulsive). What interests me is what works. And what works is both things (man and God). What the rabbi called “at most” is the heart of the matter. That is, the question is always what counts as “I did everything I could.” What I am saying is that a person who does all he can receives new energies from his action, whereas a person who does “all he can” and goes crazy loses energy because of his action. There is a prohibition against going crazy. One who goes crazy will fail and not succeed. And indeed God’s involvement in reality plays a role here. One whom God helps experiences a hidden miracle (below the threshold of awareness of most people, but something he himself can distinguish). And the extent to which things depend on me is a function of how much room I give the Holy One, blessed be He. Only one cannot give room if I did not first create such a space (by acting; only then can I begin to withdraw). That is, I have to act and then start to withdraw from action little by little according to how reality guides me. Like an artist who invests minimal effort and gets maximal output. And indeed an artist (or a master artist, or a genius) performs a kind of miracles. Admittedly very small miracles, but everyone senses it.
But indeed the involvement of the Holy One, blessed be He, in the world is not a matter of one or zero (zero being human action), but there is a continuum between Him and man. Everything a person does in the world (choosing the good), in my view, is also a miracle. It is a breaking of the laws of nature (the Lagrangian of the brain dictates differential equations that are supposed to cause man to choose evil—that is, to do what his impulses tell him. And choosing the good is a transcendence above impulses. I have no idea why the rabbi insistently and strangely calls human choice, which is not deterministic, “nature.” It is like calling the descent of the manna in the wilderness in year 28 “nature” because they got used to it). In any case, all the rabbi’s difficulties arise because of this differentiation—between man and God. But truly God is inside man—his “soul.” The part in man that is separate from God (and that performs free choice) is the “spirit.” But there is no defined borderline between soul and spirit (spirit itself is the boundary between soul and animal life [nefesh]; spirit itself is the interface point between two adjacent segments on the line. Animals have only nefesh. If you were to inject a soul into them they would become human. And a byproduct of the meeting of soul and nefesh is spirit—the conscious, thinking, speaking, choosing awareness)). The rabbi will say that I am blurring concepts, but the truth is that one simply has to see it with one’s eyes, and the mouth cannot always contain what the eye sees (try defining color to someone blind from birth).
I do not have lofty kabbalistic knowledge, but from what I have been exposed to I do know that the rabbi understands almost nothing of Kabbalah (except the matter of right, left, and middle lines). To understand something is to see it with one’s eyes, not to read books (and remember and quote what is written in them). And by the way, I am writing this because the rabbi in his previous version at least understood the issue of right, left, and middle (in the current version he would not even see that). Kabbalah indeed does not solve things in philosophy. It simply causes the problems (the questions) not to arise in the first place. Just as in truth there is no solution to the question where the edge of the world is located (there is no such edge; the “solution” involves uprooting the initial assumption), so too Kabbalah simply undermines some of philosophy’s assumptions (those not connected to logic). A philosopher who is not a kabbalist is like someone with a sense of hearing who has never seen. All his problems are defined within a conceptual world created by hearing. But he has no idea, for example, what color is. (The matter is actually a bit more complicated than that. Because problems that arise within hearing do indeed have to be solved within hearing. But many of the problems arise because aspects of sight get mixed into auditory problems. Because all of us have some faint sense of sight [that is the soul], even if we are not aware of it.)
A philosopher who becomes a kabbalist is like a blind person who has acquired sight. A philosopher who studies books of Kabbalah is like a blind man studying a book written by someone who sees. He indeed will not find there solutions to his problems, if only because the sense of sight is so vastly superior to hearing that many problems created by hearing alone simply do not arise for one who has sight, and he is not troubled by them. By the way, Rabbi Ashlag is significant here. He is the first who established Kabbalah as dealing with the meaning of existence and not abstract questions (which always seemed ridiculous to me, like whether tzimtzum is literal or not. And to say that the issue is whether the Holy One, blessed be He, is involved in everything sounds so crude to me that it grates on my intellect. I wonder how that finds expression in the question of whether He was on all sides, and the sefirot of circles and the straight line and the windows, which continue the discussion of tzimtzum. How is that translated?). Kabbalah is meant for a person who asks what the meaning of his life is and who also wants to merit eternal life (to be purified of his ego), not for an autistic philosopher. This, by the way, is the source of all the strange prohibitions on engaging in Kabbalah before age 40 and before one has “filled his belly with meat and wine,” etc.
By the way, it is really unpleasant for me (and this is already accumulating; it now happens in every response of mine, but I truly am sorry for it—not fake “sorry” of gloating, I really hope the rabbi takes this in good spirit) to say that the rabbi in his current version lacks the imagination needed to begin to see what Kabbalah is talking about (to build models and compare them to reality). It is really depressing to see the difference between the rabbi of The Quartet and God Plays Dice and the neuroscience pieces, versus the current version (except perhaps for the part about the proofs for God, where he did really manage to innovate something). The truly creative part is finding an explanation that bridges between what our eyes see and the words of people we trust. But if you trust no one, creativity drops to zero. And no, to claim that creativity is not important and only truth matters is a bluff. An indication of truth is originality as well. The whole discussion about authority in matters of Jewish thought is also a bluff. Such a thing never occurred to Ramchal (for example, nor to any of the great thinkers and kabbalists). It is simply insecurity from Haredi and religious education. Because what obligates is truth. And this is merely an evasion of trying to understand what Ramchal is talking about in his billion books of Kabbalah and thought, for example. The rabbi’s questions are supposed to be the prism through which he understands the words of the kabbalists, not just something to wave around—“look, I have a difficulty on everyone”—like some child who thinks he has caught all the adults in a lie. Unless you think they all deceived you, in which case say it explicitly and do not hide behind “I have difficulties and I am not obligated to accept their view” (you are not—but you are obligated to understand what they are saying on the assumption that you place trust in them).
By the way, the discussion of God’s involvement in the world is not a philosophical problem but a kabbalistic one. Kabbalah is “the doctrine of divinity”—but of a living God, not of a dead (philosophical) God. And His providence, His involvement in the world, definitely belongs to it. The rabbi’s problem is with the involvement of a philosophical God in the world, but that is not so interesting. That is, the whole concept of God’s involvement is really a discussion of God’s aliveness, so the involvement of a philosophical God sounds a bit like an oxymoron to me. Problems about God’s aliveness should be directed to the doctrine that deals with the living God (Kabbalah), not to philosophy.
I read it and saw nothing new that I had not already responded to (although for some reason it is precisely you who accuse me of not reading your words carefully). Other than the slogan about a living or non-living God versus a philosophical God, and other empty declarations, I have nothing to say about it except this: the nature of God, whether He is living or not, and what that means, is an entirely philosophical matter. I do not know of even one problem that Kabbalah solves that cannot be solved philosophically, and vice versa.
Just to note that the word hishtadlut originally denotes real desire and effort, as in “where there are no men, strive to be a man,” as distinct from “hishtadlut,” which is an innovation of recent generations.
If it is empty, it is empty from the rabbi. Let the rabbi just say he simply does not understand, and that’s that. To say that something is a slogan can itself be a slogan to the same degree. I understand why the rabbi reacts this way to things phrased in such language, because truly most people who speak it are speaking slogans. But I could have imagined that the rabbi would have a little more trust in me (well, if he has no trust in Nahmanides and Ramchal, what can I complain about regarding myself). In any case, I thought it was quite clear that “a philosophical God” means the God of the “first existent”—someone external whom you have never met, and there are discussions about His existence and His ways based on proofs from natural reality. A living God is simply a God you meet directly (you experience Him, a kind of revelation)—and that is the whole story. The rabbi has probably never experienced God, and has suspicion and aversion toward people who speak about it (not without justification, it should be said; I really do understand that), and therefore the concept of a living God is empty for him. And so too the rest of the empty declarations. At least he is honest about this fact, and I will give him credit for that. Indeed, I believe that for the rabbi they are empty. Until you experience them directly, they will remain empty. I agree one hundred percent. And if I were merely quoting them from Ramchal, then they really would be empty on my side as well, but I cannot prove to the rabbi that the things I speak about have indeed been verified for me. There has to be a little trust from the other side as well. But most people (not necessarily simple ones) want to experience Him directly, and then the whole philosophical discussion is irrelevant for them. I would not see even one secular person in the world, however intelligent and honest he may be, becoming religious from the rabbi’s words. And I have also not seen any religious person cease being religious because of these arguments. No one in the world gives regard to someone who gives him no regard in return, and the rabbi is no exception. As for the fact that the rabbi is still religious: one of two things is true—either the rabbi does not believe in a God who is relevant to our lives and at some point will cease being religious, or deep down he does believe and will change his views in the future. The rabbi’s current state is unstable. Sorry for the paternalism, but I do not believe there is anyone in the world (including the rabbi) who believes these nonsense ideas (self-righteous ones, it should be said) of serving a God who does not supervise and does not intervene, etc., and still keeps mitzvot because of someone about whom he knows nothing except that He created the world. Just as I do not believe in the existence of a truly moral person who has no fear of karma, etc. For someone for whom morality is merely an aesthetic matter (that is, ethics and no more), when the impulse overpowers him he will yield to it unconditionally. The concept of a mitzvah-observant person is empty of content if on the one hand one cannot put him to the test, and on the other hand if he has no mechanism that can prepare him in advance for the moment of testing. Without providence and intervention, all these things go down the drain.
With God’s help, 4 Adar 5780
The distinction between proper hishtadlut and such as constitutes a blemish in faith is explained by Rabbi Dov יפה, zt”l (mashgiach of Kfar Hasidim Yeshiva), in his book Le’ovdecha Be’emet on Parashat Vayeshev (pp. 146–148):
“And the Hazon Ish says that this outlook on the nature of trust also determines the character of the desired hishtadlut, and also its proper boundaries.
Its character: for one who truly trusts, whose trust is based on the belief that the will of supreme providence is the cause of all causes and the ground of all grounds—will place the main part of his hishtadlut in repentance, prayer, and charity, in order to elicit from before Him a will to avert the evil decree, instead of chasing after philanthropists and ministers and seeking vain stratagems…
And likewise concerning the boundaries of hishtadlut: the reason the duty of hishtadlut does not contradict the trait of trust… is that the Holy One, blessed be He, desires to conduct man by way of nature, and therefore the halakhah was established that one may not rely on a miracle. Therefore, only acts that remove salvation from the realm of miracle are included in the duty of hishtadlut; but acts that do not do so are not included in the duty of hishtadlut, and consequently are also forbidden” (p. 147).
According to this approach, Rabbi Dov יפה explains further in the name of the Hazon Ish “the flaw in Joseph’s request to the chief cupbearer that he mention him favorably before Pharaoh. For although hishtadlut does not contradict the trait of trust, to what does this apply? To hishtadlut whose benefit is naturally likely. In such a case, the hishtadlut removes the salvation from the realm of miracle. But hishtadlut which by the way of nature is not likely to help acquires the character of an act stemming from despair, like a drowning man clutching at a straw, and this is a complete contradiction to true trust in the blessed Creator” (p. 148).
If I understand correctly, it follows from Rabbi Dov יפה’s words that the “duty of hishtadlut” is not to do something symbolic just in order to “tick the box.” On the contrary, one who trusts in God is obligated to focus his hishtadlut on the path most likely to help by natural means, and the use of means of hishtadlut whose effectiveness is doubtful is what indicates lack of trust. One who trusts in God does not sit with folded hands; rather, he chooses the path that is naturally most effective and focuses on it. Trust in God requires one to seek the most effective path of hishtadlut!
Best regards, Shatz
As for the claim that there is no problem etc. that philosophy cannot solve and vice versa—that is already a matter of semantics and classification categories for library cataloging purposes. I have already argued, and not because I am a kabbalist or anything like that, that the rabbi understands almost nothing of Kabbalah (according to my acquaintance with his words. I understand very little of the doctrine of Kabbalah, but from what I have understood of it—and I know that well—and from what I do understand and am very good at, namely understanding what it means to understand, I understood that the rabbi does not know what Kabbalah really is. Truthfully that is not such a great shame—an overwhelming majority of people, including Haredim, do not understand at all what it is talking about, much less some actual content of it [they do not live it]. When one understands something, one lives it. In a certain sense, one cannot really understand someone before one has to some extent justified him (stepped into his shoes), even if only for the sake of the understanding itself. And afterward you already will not see the world in the same way.
In any case, the rabbi has a bit of a problem formulating the claim about philosophy and Kabbalah, etc., when he does not know at all what Kabbalah is. He has fantasies of what it is, and about those he makes his claims. That does not interest me at all. Nor should it interest the rabbi. As I said, one might think the rabbi really understands what the sefirot of straightness and circles are if he talks about Kabbalah’s solutions to problems. Even nahama de-kisufa is not something one can really understand literally. Never mind that the rabbi wrote an entire post about it here. In truth, the rabbi’s claim is more or less like claiming that there is no problem in physics that philosophy could not solve, and vice versa. If the rabbi attains something and then decides that this too is called philosophy, fine (Jewish thought is a kind of garment for Kabbalah). But if the rabbi attains something, he will in any event discern that there is a difference between spiritual attainment (in what is called the true doctrine) and insights from books by Kant or Husserl and Heidegger (including metaphysical ones). Let us say that Rabbi HaNazir would sign what I am saying with both hands. Kabbalah is a kind of science (one can subject its claims to experiment among the people who live it). The rabbi could argue that there is philosophy in the infrastructure of every science, etc. But in that case, that is fine too. Philosophy is indeed a kind of science in diapers, or science is mature philosophy.
But even according to the rabbi’s own approach, language is significant for understanding. Every development in language is a development in understanding. So if there are two different languages, they also look at different aspects of the same thing when they call it by different names. Therefore the claim about the problem etc., even in such a case, is not correct. Not for nothing is it sometimes more convenient in mathematics to solve one problem when one translates it into a different language in which the problem is formulated more naturally and the solution appears easily, and that is a sign that the problem’s more natural place is the second language (the rabbi should ask his son about the proof of the Kolmogorov theorem in topology—the theorem stating that a product of compact spaces is also compact. There is a proof as long as the exile in Munkres’s book, and an elegant and beautiful one that takes the problem into the world of filters [in set theory], where it is proved in a line and a half). So even according to the rabbi’s own approach, a problem that might be solved in philosophy after two hundred years of thought could be solved in a line and a half in Kabbalah.
In paragraph 5, line 1
According to this approach, Rabbi Dov יפה explains…
By the way, God forbid—I did not accuse the rabbi of not reading my words carefully. I was simply worried that given my responses, which are as long as the exile (and somewhat wearying, if not tedious, with the double and triple parentheses and side comments nested on different levels, and in addition all the spelling mistakes stemming from my impatience with proofreading and writing), and since I very much doubt anyone else here reads them at all, the rabbi might lose his patience, and I asked him to continue to keep it. That’s all (: 🙂
With God’s help, 3 Adar 5780
To Ailon – greetings,
Often, length in clarification is necessary in order to clarify a subject fully, but it may help the reader if you add a short summary to your remarks. That way even a hurried reader will feel like reading, and once he feels the words add something for him—his desire to read the expanded version too will grow.
Best regards, Shatz
1. It seems to me that the first question one should ask is whether it is fitting that there be providence. And if not, why assume that there is reward and punishment in general? After all, the Holy One, blessed be He, does not intervene in the world even though this does not contradict His laws (He did so in the past), and even though justice would dictate that He intervene. And if so, why assume that His governance is indeed good? This seems to me the reason for the apologetics that still seek divine intervention.
Do you agree that it is “fitting that there be” providence? If so, why is there none? And if not, why assume there is reward and punishment at all?
2. People are willing to donate a lot of money and invest a lot of time in prayer for a sick family member; this implies that they really do believe it has an effect. Likewise, if there is a natural way, they will certainly use it; this implies they do not believe that the Holy One, blessed be He, will intervene directly in what they do. All in all, it seems to me that this indicates that most people (believers) believe in the middle position you presented.
To Shatz.
Would you stand behind the statement not to clutch at straws? Would you tell a dangerously ill patient not to take a treatment because there is not much chance it will help him and therefore it contradicts belief in providence?
In your defense of Rabbi Steinman you argued, “Can God not save us without our giving up the ways of simplicity and modesty?” That is, you created a new boundary for hishtadlut—one must make efforts, but only in what remains within some boundary of simplicity and modesty (which Esther, for example, certainly went beyond). And here too I ask: would you stand behind your word even in the case of some invasive treatment? Does going to plead with state leaders for a budget or against conscription fall within this boundary of modesty? And are huge demonstrations part of this simplicity? Etc.
I wrote with a bit of cynicism, but my intention is not to mock, only to try to find the boundaries of this claim, if they really exist.
To Shatz
A good suggestion.
Thank you
Hami,
It is not possible to define God anyway, and therefore (if I may) Rabbi Michael is not trying to speak about God but about human beings—who, although they understand that their mouths are speaking nonsense, in practice do not agree with their own statements and act differently from what they declare.
By the way, if according to your belief God is required to intervene, then in Judaism we are engaged in magic and differ only slightly from sorcerers and idol worshipers.
Also in Maimonides, that “one righteous individual in some of the generations”—while the “madmen” who lived before him built a palace, and that poor righteous man shelters from the sun or rain under the wall of that palace.
There too the wall does not come to the righteous man; the righteous man comes to the wall. And according to Maimonides, generations labored on the wall only for that righteous man. And again, from the righteous man’s own perspective, he himself also had to make the effort to shelter beneath the palace wall.
1. I have no idea whether it is fitting or not. I see no connection whatsoever to reward and punishment. The fact that there is no providence does not mean that the Holy One, blessed be He, does not care about what happens here. When a parent lets his child manage on his own without intervening, does that mean he does not want his child to conduct himself properly?
2. People are complex creatures. But yes, I also think most of them believe this. I only claim that they believe it because they think it is required by the sources, and because they are not skilled in philosophical thinking.
The question of reward in this world is tricky, because for an hour’s work two different people are paid differently.
Apparently what determines how much you will earn is the question of value. That is, how much value did you give? If you gave a lot—you will receive a lot.
If you gave little, you will receive little.
Do the fundraisers think that they will give more value to the donors if they appear together with the rabbi, and therefore they will be given more?
Does the rabbi’s picture carry “value” for the donors? I think Rabbi Steinman does not think so, otherwise he would gladly have given his picture.
He also thinks, and rightly so, that it is a gimmick. What will they ask of him next time? To stand on his head? The fundraisers are ridiculous in their request, they know it, and the rabbi knows it.
With God’s help, Saturday night, Parashat Terumah 5780
To Yair – greetings,
Rabbi Steinman is one of the great sages of Israel and does not need my “defense.” On the contrary, we need to delve more deeply into his words in order to understand his approach. It is not enough to make inferences from words said in one specific case (where there may be a local explanation, namely that the proposed form of hishtadlut was improper because it came from a culture of externalization), but rather to understand the guiding principles: when there is a duty of hishtadlut, since “one may not rely on a miracle,” and when the hishtadlut is improper, as Hazal said about Joseph, that he was punished by having his imprisonment extended because he asked the chief cupbearer to recommend him to Pharaoh.
I looked for a principled discussion of the question and found it in Rabbi Dov יפה’s words in the name of the Hazon Ish, who distinguishes between hishtadlut likely to help by the way of nature, clinging to which testifies to acting מתוך faith, and taking actions whose effectiveness is doubtful, which testifies to despair or panic.
Regarding the criticism of Joseph, I recall a different approach in Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler’s Michtav Me’Eliyahu. He says, according to my memory, that the claim against Joseph was not over the very request to the chief cupbearer, but because he made his salvation depend on the chief cupbearer, saying to him: “and bring me out of this house.”
According to these two explanations of Hazal’s criticism of Joseph, Rabbi Steinman’s opposition to photographs is understandable. After all, there is a well-trodden path “likely to help by the way of nature”: writing a recommendation letter from a leading Torah sage or his making a phone call to the donor. If the donor sees Rabbi Steinman as a Torah authority, that should be enough; what does a photograph of the rabbi or of the yeshiva add? And when there is an effective path, why add to it a path whose effectiveness is doubtful (both in terms of its effectiveness and in terms of the culture it reflects)? The questioner’s statement that “without the photograph, it won’t work” seemed to Rabbi Steinman to be “excessive fear.”
Best regards, Shatz
By the way, in my search for relevant material on the subject, I came upon the two volumes of Ke’ayal Ta’arog, in which statements of Rabbi Steinman about great sages and the festivals were collected. In his book on the festivals, Rabbi Steinman asks: “After all, Esther went to make hishtadlut in order to save all Israel, so how did she want to appear before Ahasuerus? Her mission would thereby be nullified, and they would also kill her!”
And Rabbi Steinman answered: “It may be that Esther thought that in this way Ahasuerus would feel his own wickedness and regret the past, and Hazal revealed to us that her calculation was mistaken, and therefore an angel came and slapped her face.”
That is to say, according to Rabbi Steinman, Esther did not rely on a miracle but acted out of judgment, thinking that sharp rebuke would positively influence the king. She acted out of judgment, and to correct her mistake there came the miraculous intervention of the angel.
Regarding your question about a treatment with little chance of success in a life-threatening case: in my humble opinion, the problem to which the Hazon Ish pointed regarding the use of means whose effectiveness is doubtful is when they are undertaken out of despair and panic. But when things are done out of cautious judgment, there is room to undertake even activity whose chances of success are slight, for then the actions are not being done out of panic but out of considered judgment.
Best regards, Shatz
What is more, in a case of danger to life there is room to permit even Torah prohibitions, and it may be that the issue of excessive hishtadlut as well—which is not a clear halakhic prohibition but an extra pious refinement in the trait of trust—would not stand in such a case. In practice, I suggest consulting a qualified halakhic decisor 🙂
***
By the way, Joseph’s expectation that the chief cupbearer would act in his favor seems problematic to me in terms of cautious judgment. After all, Joseph was sent to prison by the chief butcher on suspicion of attempting to assault his wife. Would an intervention by the chief cupbearer, who had committed a serious offense for which he had been imprisoned, who had nearly received the death penalty and had only recently gotten out by the king’s grace in a pardon—would that have been accepted, or would it have inflamed the anger of the chief butcher, who outranked him and had no “criminal record”?
Joseph was not in prison in mortal danger; he was there at the rank of “deputy warden,” effectively the commander of the prison. Why should he endanger himself by raising the affair again through a minister whose own status was in question? And if Pharaoh had intervened, what would Joseph have gained—he would have returned to the house of the chief butcher and his righteous wife 🙂 What benefit would have grown for him from returning to the “lion’s den”?
In paragraph 2, line 2
…but an extra pious refinement in the trait of trust…
The interesting part of the whole story is that they did not get a photo, but they most certainly did get a 7-minute video recording! That calls the whole idea into question.
The video was not made as part of the hishtadlut for fundraising, but for an educational purpose—conveying an ideological message.
Usually, when a person behaves in practice in a way that contradicts his declarations, there is a tendency to say that he does not really believe them in the depths of his heart. This is true in some cases (I do not know whether in most cases or not). In the other cases it is not true. A person can be in a state of cognitive dissonance in which he really does believe what he declares even though in practice he behaves contrary to it. We human beings are experts at this, naturally. That is what distinguishes us from cold calculating machines—the ability to contain contradictions simultaneously without the system sending an error command and crashing. This is a wondrous ability of the human brain. The writer Haim Hazaz describes it masterfully in his short book The Sermon, mainly regarding pre-state Diaspora Judaism, and in short: how Jews can believe with every fiber of their being in the coming of the Messiah and hope for his arrival, and at the same time do nothing in order to leave exile, because exile defines them; and if the Messiah comes, they will not know what the hell to do with him and will reject him out of hand (this summary does no justice to the writer; one must read the story to appreciate its full meaning). In any case, Hazaz did not discover the phenomenon; he only pointed to it. Rabbi Steinman and those present in the video are in a fairly typical state of cognitive dissonance. They are simply so normalized into Jewish tradition and the religious way of life that this dissonance does not create psychological pressure for them. This is not a bizarre phenomenon, but a very normal and common one among human beings. For people less normalized to the system surrounding them, the dissonance is more of a psychological burden that pushes them to change either their beliefs or their actions—but not for Steinman and his people. In the whole video there is no agreed-upon lie, no feigned self-righteousness from either side, and they are not ignoring the elephant in the room, because the elephant is in the living room—they are simply not aware of it at all.
Since from a contradiction one can derive any conclusion, there is no point in this argument. There is a contradiction there, and everyone will interpret it as he wishes: psychologically or philosophically. In the room or in the living room.
A few questions for the rabbi.
1. When the rabbi says that the level of providence has declined, does he mean the time after prophecy? That already then there is no direct connection between Creator and creature?
2. With which view does the Gemara in Niddah hold: “the one cannot do without the other”?
3. Why can’t one say that faith itself is that the Holy One, blessed be He, will help through the hishtadlut?
4. Is this connected, in your opinion, to the view that there is no individual providence, or do you think that even according to those who hold there is individual providence, the providence is not in matters of money and things dependent on human beings but only in things dependent on nature?
1. I have no concrete information. Today it seems there isn’t. In general, it seems to decline all the time.
2. ??
3. ??
4. ??
Please formulate the questions clearly.
I apologize for the misunderstanding. I hope this time I wrote clearly.
2. I mean the Gemara that says: “What should a man do and become wealthy? They said to him: he should engage much in business and conduct dealings faithfully. They said to him: many did so and it did not avail them; rather, he should ask mercy from Him to whom wealth belongs, as it is said (Haggai 2:8), ‘Mine is the silver and Mine is the gold.’ What does this teach us? That the one cannot do without the other.” My question is whether this fits Rav Kook’s approach or the approach that Rabbi Steinman presents (at least openly, not what you claim he really thinks).
3. Why is it pathetic to say that one must make efforts and that God will help? One can say that faith in God is that He helps only after hishtadlut. That is, He gives the final boost, but that does not mean one should believe that everything will come without your doing something.
4. Is the issue of faith and hishtadlut connected to individual providence? Or even if there is individual providence, is the whole idea of hishtadlut still nonsense?
2. I did not understand the question. It does not fit. The Gemara assumes that wealth depends on the Holy One, blessed be He, and prayers to Him.
3. I did not understand the proposal. This is the regular hishtadlut thesis that I have dealt with quite a bit. You are basically saying that everything happens as usual, just as any atheist understands it, but there is a demon hiding behind it all and causing everything without being seen (he hides every time one looks). This is a conspiracy theory. By the same token you could claim that when one takes an Acamol, the fever goes down because of the movement of the hand toward the medicine box. But the box has a property that every time one does not take medicine from the box but from elsewhere, that too helps because the box hides from us.
4. I did not understand this question either. The reason for the conclusion that there is no providence is that I see there is no effect from hishtadlut (only from the laws of nature).
There is a bit of disingenuousness here on the part of the writer. The Torah sets before us an ideal of trust in God, just as it set before us the mitzvah of the sabbatical of land and debts. And perhaps Shabbat too enters this category in certain periods. Human beings struggle to understand how they can make a living for a year, or one day a week (as many think today). But the Torah wishes to advance man to a higher level of faith. These are not slogans but explicit commandments. Yet there is an inherent difficulty between what our eyes see and faith in what we do not see. And faith comes to bridge that gap.
Rabbi Steinman’s YouTube gets to the picture and not to a video
and also does not interpret his words that way
Corrected
Regarding God’s involvement in the world, what would you say about Ramchal’s words in Da’at Tevunot regarding the governance of unification that leads all creation to its purpose? And even if this does not affect each and every individual in a personal way, with respect to the people of Israel and the world as a whole there is certainly a guiding hand?
What am I supposed to say about Ramchal’s words? That I disagree with him.
It seems that the disagreement between you and Rav Kook’s approach is over the definition of the Holy One, blessed be He. According to your approach, in understanding “my power and the might of my hand,” God enables us to act but does not Himself intervene; whereas according to Rav Kook’s approach, our action itself is the hand of God acting through us.