Is My Theology Anorexic? On a New Hellenization (Column 352)

As usual, it was a pleasure for me to read these words. Yasher koach, Rabbi!
But how can one separate halakha from the rest of “Judaism”? After all, both in the Written Torah and in the Oral Torah, halakhic material appears in a complete mixture with stories, tales, ethical teachings, aggadah, etc. The attempt to turn halakha into a kind of independent science is a relatively late development (Brisk and the like), and even that approach had many opponents (for example, Rav Kook, who saw a necessity to create a connection between halakha and aggadah). Treating halakha as something close to being detached from context does indeed create the sense of an analytical pursuit (there is a system of axioms, and all that remains for us is to engage in pilpul over the conclusions logically). But it becomes a very strange hobby when it has no theoretical backing in the form of a burning religious faith.

Thank you very much for the column.
But there is a point missing here that I’ve already written several times: Judaism is a covenant of love between us and God, and from within that we are obligated to halakha—like a person who is obligated to his wife in all sorts of ways because of the bond and covenant between them. But if a person were to say to his wife: look, there are women better than you, but on the basis of morality I am with you—woe to such a marriage. The rabbi often brings Kant’s categorical imperative, but it doesn’t seem that this is what God wants from us. The Torah says many times that what He wants and desires from us is a covenant of love.

Whether Judaism or not, the point the rabbi is missing here in his answer to Adiel is of course really this: 1. the need for meaning (accompanied by the intuition that it really does exist, only that one has to find it). 2. the metaphysical dimensions. 3. the search for God (experiencing Him, seeing Him).

Because in truth, the Torah and prophecy in general are several floors above the search for meaning. The Holy One, blessed be He, did not reveal Himself to Abraham or to Moses just like that. These were apparently people who contemplated the world and “searched for God,” and in the end found Him (He revealed Himself to them). The problem with the rabbi (in his current version), as I already wrote here, is that in these matters he is simply autistic (or a zombie in the worse case). He does not feel the need for meaning, or he scorns that need as a psychological need (for reasons I actually understand; he looks at all the people who do search and tells himself he doesn’t want to be like them). But by the same token one could also scorn the need to eat as a psychological need (feelings that arise within us), even though it is a real need—not only the quieting of hunger but actual nutritional needs—and in truth one must seek and find nourishing, real food. Nutrition is a real thing even though it begins from a need. The same is true of meaning. There is a feeling—beyond the need—that existence has meaning, and that one ought to do nothing else until one finds it (whatever it may be). The problem is not with the rabbi’s objections to the quality of the answers to what that meaning is, but to the very search for it. The rabbi simply dodges this and denies it. The problem is in the psychological attitude. That is what everyone sees and the rabbi does not see. If the rabbi does not have this feeling, then something in him is truly atrophied.

The same is true regarding metaphysics. Here too there is a feeling that the world as it is is lacking (this is also connected to the feeling of meaning and the existence of God, and I cannot elaborate here). The question of what these metaphysical dimensions are, and whether those who see them are right or not, or are imagining them, is a good question—and indeed the charlatanism rampant in this field will create revulsion in any critical person. But one should also be critical of one’s criticality. The rabbi already went so far here on the site as to say, in a slip of the tongue (Freudian or not), about something by Rav Kook that he did not understand, that it was nonsense and meaningless, and even claimed innocently enough that this is indeed Rav Kook’s general approach.

The rabbi himself even said here that for fear of Heaven one must “set the Lord before him always.” So how does one do that? If done just like that, it’s just childish kindergarten imagination. We are talking here about a mental image. And this is not merely a condition for observing Torah and mitzvot; it is actually positive commandment number 4 among the Rambam’s positive commandments. And it is not fulfilled like taking the lulav. One cannot fear and stand in awe artificially and merely by command. It is quite clear that the command is to contemplate the world (the Rambam took the trouble to spell this out in the opening chapters of Hilkhot Yesodei HaTorah so that we would know how to fear God and fulfill this mitzvah—and also the mitzvot of knowing Him, His unity, and loving Him—“And when he contemplates these things…” ). So if you like, the doctrine of fear of God (Kabbalah, Hasidism, Jewish thought) is also part of “Judaism,” if only as preparation for this mitzvah; and here it seems to me it is even more than building a sukkah—that is, it is part of the fulfillment of the mitzvah itself, and I cannot elaborate here. For this purpose there are the books of Tanakh, the stories in the Torah, the aggadot of Hazal, and ultimately Jewish thought and Kabbalah. One cannot evade this. Unless you are autistic.

An Unclear Person, hello!
Every couple in the world could find a better partner; that is a fact. After all, there is no chance that all of us married the best partner in the world, right?
In the end, every relationship is founded on commitment to an agreement, and on the fact that we chose (for reasons that are irrelevant) to devote ourselves and commit to one and only one, and to ignore the potential inherent in all the others. This is the factual truth. You can ignore it, but that is just burying your head in the sand. 99.9 percent of us could have found a partner better than our current one if we had searched meticulously among all the women in the world—certainly! The point is that we chose and committed to one… that’s all.
This is the amazing insight the Little Prince understood when he saw the enormous rose garden upon arriving on Earth. Suddenly he saw that there were countless other roses one could potentially fall in love with. But then he understood that one can “tame” a particular rose, and then it becomes your rose, and then it becomes special above them all. Not because it is really essentially more special than they are, but only because it is the rose you chose to invest in, to tame, to make your own. (Torah dilei?)
Out of that commitment, love naturally develops, causing us also to enjoy that commitment, but commitment is always the foundation, and if it is absent, love without commitment has no meaning.
And in the analogy, the commitment to observing Torah and mitzvot is the necessary and sole foundation, without which there is nothing. If a religious experience (love) also develops, all the better—but even that has no meaning without religious commitment.
Best regards!

Many thanks. I’ve already explained this dozens of times. Please search the site and my books (especially the second one). This is not the place for it.

Simcha, well said. Even on his unfounded assumption that the relationship is like that between spouses.

So I am probably autistic.

Correction: the rabbi is a gentile obligated to observe mitzvot, or in short, a Jew (the rabbi’s column on nationality).

In my opinion, the rabbi’s theology is quite full. It posits a God who gave the Torah and who watches whether we observe it. To my taste, that is quite a lot in comparison to various immanentist, Spinozist approaches circulating around that deny the revelation at Mount Sinai openly or covertly and promise all kinds of religious experiences de la shmatte.

Even if one cannot learn something from the Bible today, it was written with the purpose that one learn from it something beyond halakha, no?

I assume so. I have no information on the matter.

Thank you very much for the response.
Indeed you are right, but the root of the commitment between spouses is a covenant of love, and from that come the actions, not the other way around. And indeed, if between spouses there are only actions, the situation is bad. And from the Torah it seems that the demand is for the relationship, and the actions flow from the relationship between God and the people of Israel.

Since the theology is lean and east-wind-blasted, its adherents must follow the ways of medicine and eat lots of sufganiyot soaked in oil and sugar, jam, chocolate, and caramel, as the paytan established: “Eat rich foods and fine flour cakes, turtledoves and young pigeons… hai hai a kor-measure of land, to sell, to rent, to lease a kor-measure of land for the sake of Hanukkah.”

And Hanukkah is only an opening and training for the excessive eating needed all year long in order to fulfill “May there be no leanness among our fat ones,” and may it be fulfilled in you, “They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be full of sap and freshness,” which R. Chaim David Rosenstein translated in the Shirah Chadashah Siddur as “fat and moist.”

Best regards, Baruch the Schlemiel, Sage of the Lean Ones

The commitment itself is a commitment to love, not a commitment to acts. Moreover, the essence of the relationship is love. In general, the analogy would be a person who listens to his father’s voice only out of obligation, but really always tries to think about the obligation and sees the relationship as unnecessary. Would his father desire that? After all, the prophets spoke about those “whose heart was far from Me”; “with their lips they honor Me, but their heart…”

Michi, as is his holy custom (or perhaps profane custom), presents an article that is brilliant and a failure at the same time.

His struggle against the traditional and confused “Adielite” Judaism is of course justified. But the “Abrahamic” alternative is at least just as bad.

Notice what Michi says about the essence of Judaism:

“Judaism is halakha. That and nothing more. All the rest are trimmings and flowers, which may or may not be true, and everyone may include or exclude them from his Jewish framework as he wishes. My claim is that they are not part of the binding framework itself, and in many cases they are baseless and incorrect.”

Really, Michi? Halakha is the first floor and everything derives from it? And who revealed this meta-halakhic secret to you? The answer to this question—the answer he adopts and rejects at the same time (and hence his confusion)—is the narrative of “Torah from Heaven.”
That is the foundation and the basis.
Had Michi, or any other Jew (and non-Jews too, presumably), not believed in a Torah from Heaven given at Sinai and containing within it ((!)) also (!) the “dry” religious law, he could not from the outset have maintained a position that assigns centrality to that halakha.

Therefore, even if Michi is right that halakha is central to the Torah, the centrality of halakha is only a second floor, not the first as he insists on saying (and in the process contradicts himself).

Now let us imagine a parallel fantasy world in which a secular white male without Yael like me really cared about Orthodox Judaism and the Torah. In such a world I would greatly regret that I had been condemned to choose between the confused Adielite Judaism on the one hand and the no less confused Abrahamic Judaism on the other. In such a world I would try to extract a more successful “synthesis” from these two failed positions.

To do this (the fantasy continues to unfold), I would say something like this:
There are at least three necessary floors in Judaism:

First floor—the narrative floor (Torah from Heaven)
Second floor—the halakha floor
Third floor—the “Adielite” floor, which includes myth, morality, esoteric doctrine, philosophy, folklore, politics, you name it.

The important difference between my proposal and Michi’s is that in my view the third floor is not “trimmings and flowers.” True, the debate over what enters this floor must be concrete—so that unnecessary “Adielite” elements do not seep into it—but its very existence is necessary once we have already accepted the first floor.

That’s all for now.

Since you addressed your speech to the public, I’ll allow myself to butt in. You said nothing. First, it is not clear what you want from the first and second floors. No one disputed that there is a first floor (factual belief). Second, you smuggled in a connection between the first floor (Torah from Heaven) and some third thing (esoteric doctrine, feelings of cleaving to God, belief in providence and reward and punishment, etc.) without any argument. So don’t smuggle it in.

In my opinion, one needs to read the Torah itself seriously (it seems to me that the two are interdependent: Bible study and one’s theological conception).
Verses like “It is a tree of life to those who hold fast to it, and happy are those who support it” — regarding what the Torah is supposed to give me besides the commandments; and also “And from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you shall find Him, if you search after Him with all your heart and with all your soul” — some kind of finding of God is mentioned here, meaning relationship, God present!
So perhaps it would be worthwhile to open the Torah and see what it tells us about this (not in the sense of “there is nothing that is not hinted at in the Torah,” but because it is written explicitly).
With Hanukkah greetings,
S.G.

Look, Thread…
You determined that in “my speech” I was supposedly criticizing the ignoring of the first floor, while in your opinion “no one disputed that.”

I suggest you reread Michi’s article, or at least the quotation I brought from him precisely on this point (“trimmings and flowers”). Maybe in light of that you’ll consider changing your assessment?

As for your point that I gave no argument—you are of course right. But I had a very practical reason for avoiding it, namely the fear that readers who aren’t all that careful anyway (there aren’t many like that here) would in any case have difficulty with reading comprehension. What do you think? Was I right about that practical consideration?
In a separate response, which will come long before the coming of the son of David, the son of Joseph, or the son of rebellion, I will present the logical and perhaps also the historical connection between the first and third floors.

Be blessed.

Hello Rabbi. I would like to share my experience with you, which I think is shared by many people who try to write what is on their heart but struggle to formulate it:
On the one hand, your columns fill life with light; many questions are resolved, many difficulties of the generation and political, social, and other problems are solved in the blink of an eye. But on the other hand, our history, our tradition, is severely wounded. So what, you ask, if this is the truth then we must accept it… True, but there is in us a strong intuition that our tradition is true, that the Ari, Rashbi, and Rav Kook were not wrong! Not because we know how to explain why, but because we simply know— a deep intuition rooted within us, as if in our DNA. You are right that this could become a basis for all rebellion: should everyone follow the inclination of his own heart? ISIS and the like also probably feel that their teachers were right, etc. But still—shall we abandon the faith of our nation that walks among us? This is my experience when reading this site. I know you will not give me an answer and will say that one cannot argue with intuitions, but it is important to me that we put the intuition on the table, because not a few of us share it.

Regarding the connection between the first and third floors.

Well, here Adielite Judaism hits the target more or less and probably knows how to provide answers much better than I can. You know them very well…

The first floor (the grand narrative of Torah and the giving of the Torah) is basically a story. And not just any story, but one heck of a story: rich in historical, legal, moral, psychological, mythical, philosophical, political, and economic aspects—shall I go on?

Since this narrative has constitutive status, meaning that it comes to impart certain contents to us, it is reasonable to assume that these are exactly the kinds of contents I just listed (and others). The problem, of course, is to derive those contents in a non-arbitrary manner and without “projecting” into it something from ourselves that is not present in the original text.

Usually a dualist (synthesizer) like Michi shouldn’t have a problem with this. But what happens? The analytical wolf lurking inside him sometimes takes over the party. In such cases he is so frightened by the arbitrariness (sometimes real) of Adielite Judaism that, out of sheer panic, he flees to the good old analytical refuge—logic (here clothed in the garb of halakhic law).

I hope the argument is satisfactory in your honorable eyes.

You formulated it excellently. I can only agree. This is indeed the dilemma many feel. Each person must resolve it for himself, but it is important to note that distinguishing between intuition and a feeling that is built into us because of upbringing and the convenience of remaining in accepted conceptions (inertia) is quite difficult. Therefore a person must be honest with himself and examine whether his intuition that all these figures were right is stronger than the arguments against their positions, and whether this is really intuition or merely feeling and the convenience of inertia.

Nonsense and blather. Are you claiming that the man (Michi) does not believe in Torah from Heaven because that’s what you understood from his post? That he allows for Judaism even without such belief? That the aforementioned man falls into contradiction within his own doctrine because on the one hand he believes in Torah from Heaven and on the other hand [on the other hand what?] and therefore even if he tells you he believes, you’ll mumble back that if so he must give up something else in his doctrine? If you meant to address him directly, then I’ll make myself scarce. In the separate response, try to focus on the logical connection (by the way, a hint, free of charge: there isn’t one) between Torah from Heaven and the whole array of goodies you laid out on the table on the third floor, because no one disputes the historical connection and it has no importance.

BS"D, this is Hanukkah 5781

In my humble opinion, when choosing a school of thought that will provide a solid and stable basis of faith, “leanness” does have significance—but not in the sense of minimalism in principles, rather in the sense of concise expression that presents its principles briefly and clearly, while grounding them in the Holy Scriptures, the words of Hazal, and straightforward reasoning.

The one who did this most successfully was the Rambam in his introduction to the chapter Helek, where he presented the Thirteen Principles of Faith—the existence of the Creator and His unity, the truth of Torah and prophecy, their divine origin and eternity, providence and reward in this world and the next, and expectation of redemption and resurrection of the dead.

There, the Rambam not only defined the basic principles but also grounded them in explicit proofs from Scripture. In this way the Rambam created a basic infrastructure regarding which an extremely broad consensus was formed. The principles defined by the Rambam would be signed onto by philosophers and kabbalists, early and later authorities. There are discussions and disputes about details and sub-details, but regarding the basic principles there is overall agreement.

The fact that the principles are founded on reason, based on Scripture and the words of Hazal and on sound judgment, gives firm confidence in their truth; their clear and concise formulation enables their absorption and internalization. To study deeply a few pages in the Rambam’s golden language—“the little that holds the much”—leads its students to a sure and clear goal.

With bright Hanukkah blessings, Yaron Fishel Ordner

Thread,
It is revealed and known before me that Michi’s psychology, and specifically his belief or unbelief in Torah from Heaven, occupy a central place in Jewish and world history and have far-reaching cosmic implications.
Despite all that, nonentities like me allow themselves to turn their backs on essential questions and take an interest in marginal topics like philosophy. Therefore I refer only to his principled claims, which I quoted.

If you feel like descending to such lowly regions as the ones I inhabit, and you also wish to set me right, you are welcome. Michi too, of course, is an invited guest.

Are you saying that the Torah contains things besides halakha and therefore they are all “part of Judaism”? Is that the claim? (By the way, what about the importance of Chedorlaomer’s kingship over the land of Elam?)

Are you seriously asking me whether there is a connection between what appears in the Torah and Judaism?
If so, I urgently need to speak with the mashgiach in your yeshiva. Maybe even with your first kindergarten teacher. Something went wrong along the way…

So your claim is that the Torah contains things besides halakha, and therefore all the other goodies (“myth, morality, esoteric doctrine, philosophy, folklore, politics”) are what exactly? That someone who does not accept parts of the myth (for example, does not think Abraham defeated the four kings) is what? Before we even discuss the claim, it is advisable that you explain it. Try to reduce the poetry and answer briefly and clearly.
[You wrote the first message in the style of “take note,” like one giving a speech in the town square to all listeners, so I responded. If that was only a figure of speech, let me know and I shall return home.]

I read it and was filled with joy. Thank you!

Doron, maybe read the columns that discuss this at length?

Yishai, thank you for the suggestion, but it’s not clear to me what one can do with it.
I’ve been a guest on this site for years, I’ve read many dozens of Michi’s columns, whom by the way I esteem very much and identify with in most of his positions (the declared ones at least). I’ve argued with him, and on his behalf, perhaps dozens more times. So I think I know what his view is.
But besides that, why go far? The statements in this column are sharp and clear, and to them I responded. Don’t you think so?

I thought everything was already clear.
The third floor is necessary in principle. If you want to get down to particulars, then for you specifically, as a religious guy (if you are one, as I think), it is much easier to draw the line between authentic Jewish phenomena faithful to the Torah and its spirit and those that are not. The example of the four kings is a matter for weighing that the believer must do between his knowledge (hopefully also nourished by historical research) and the spirit of the tradition itself. That is the best answer limited creatures like us can get. This is true, of course, of all textual interpretation or interpretation of cultural phenomena. There are no certain truths about anything, not here either.
And this is still very far from what Michi says. His position is not only a historical deviation from canonical Judaism; it also deviates from the principled conceptual norm that appears in the Torah. The Torah is a sacred text in its own eyes, and as such it tells us that we are obligated to interpret it. In other words, it tells us something like: live me with all your might. I provide you with hints, because that is all I can give creatures like you, but you must continue the work. “And the rest—go and learn,” isn’t that so?

Rabbi, many thanks for the answer and especially for the elaboration in the column, and happy holiday to you and your family.

I think that if you want to attack the rabbi on a certain matter, read his opinion on the matter. He writes about it in the columns on “Judaism and Jewish Identity.”

If I wanted to attack Michi, I’d already be waiting for him under his house with a crowbar and a mask over my head. My concern is only with his positions.
I’ve already read in the past what you mentioned.
Anything else?

*his opinion

I am indeed a religious guy. I’m not interested in drawing a line according to “authentic Jewish phenomena faithful to the Torah and its spirit,” but according to what the Lord my God demands of me. Historical deviation from canonical Judaism, even if true and even if unique (and it’s not, since in many generations there were people who deviated from the canon that preceded them—so why should you complain, or on the contrary, etc.)—doesn’t interest me. As for “the principled conceptual norm that appears in the Torah,” I, despite being a religious guy as mentioned (and also a great-grandson and grandson of religious men from generations of religious men), do not know of it. I know only 613 norms (and a few others not counted, but they are summarized in the halakhic books throughout the generations).

So much confusion in one short response…

Let us begin with a general methodological comment: if you do not understand that one can extract from almost any educational text, and certainly from a text like the Torah (meaning the Five Books), a principled conceptual norm, then you do not understand how philosophy works, and in fact you do not understand how the human intellect works. Including your own. Of course I mean an approximate extraction of a norm, not something positive and sharp.

As for your interest in what God demands from you (as opposed to what the Torah demands from you)… well, here I’m actually with you much more than you think. The problem is that Judaism is not with you on this matter.
Although Judaism also has room for a “direct line” to God, it is a marginal place. The irony is that this is also the conclusion you yourself already reached earlier (apparently without being aware of it) when you determined that no one disputes the primacy of the grand narrative of Torah from Heaven. In other words: you already agreed that your narrative, or Michi’s, or Moses our teacher’s, or even my grandmother’s, is subordinate first and foremost to the narrative of the giving of the Torah. Who determined that? The Torah itself (and most of the Judaism that grew on its back, but that is less important). Can you entertain the idea that the Five Books were given to us as a kind of “sidekick” to our personal theological and practical choices? If you really think that, you have invented for yourself a subjective narrative of your own that is not anchored in the fact of the giving of the Torah. There is something almost Christian in that idea. Not that I have a problem with it.

This already opens a new subject that I have written about extensively here on the site: Judaism’s inability to separate between the authority of the Torah and the authority of God. The main channel in Judaism for drawing near to God is a particular text, which prevents a Jew who is prepared to accept this point—it seems to me that you are not—from distinguishing between the two.

With pleasure.
A happy Hanukkah to you too. (By the way, strictly speaking Hanukkah is not a festival, since no festival offering is brought on it. See Beitzah 30a: “Just as ‘festival’ means unto the Lord, so too sukkah is unto the Lord.” It may perhaps be a rabbinic appointed time, or days of Hallel and thanksgiving.)

And two more examples (admittedly trivial) of “residents” who, according to the Torah, necessarily live on the third floor: God’s promise to Abraham (territory), and the exclusivity God grants to one lineage out of all humanity (the people of Israel). One need not be a great genius to see that there is something here that lies beyond the first and second floors, and which is necessary in the eyes of the Torah. The fact of an exclusive connection between God and a certain people, and between that people and a certain territory, is not a matter of possible interpretation of the text but of compelled interpretation.

A. “The spirit of the Torah” — I do not know what that is, and “faithfulness” sounds to me like a subjective feeling. Therefore I prefer a factual formulation in the present tense: what the Holy One, blessed be He, is commanding me right now. One of the ways to discover what those commands are is to search in the Torah and according to the halakhic interpretations of the sages of each and every generation.
B. The only one who has authority for me is the honored Master, God. Everything else (Torah, Hazal, Shulchan Arukh, morality) are only telescopes and lenses to understand what He demands right now. True, Hazal also developed, created, and innovated, but after they did so, the Holy One, blessed be He, now demands of me to observe this very halakha. That is a factual claim (which admittedly is not testable) about the will of the Holy One, blessed be He, right now.
C. The “principled conceptual norm” that you wrote you extract from the Torah is a demand “to live it” with all our might according to the breadcrumbs it scattered for us along the way. I do not know what that means, certainly not from which finger you sucked that out. I’d be glad for an explanation.
D. Unfortunately I do not understand what it means “how philosophy works,” and apparently also do not know how it works (although I have studied several books by Western philosophers), and I did not know at all that it deals with texts or statements (if that is what you meant; actually I am not sure that is what you meant).
E. I determined that no observant Jew disputes the idea that something in the Torah was given from Heaven. There are here and there all kinds of colorful opinions, but in my eyes they are not serious. Who determined this is not the Torah itself but I, based on what seems reasonable to me.
F. I will address your claim that I created for myself a subjective narrative etc. after we clear the table of the rest of the preliminaries, with your permission.

In biblical language even the Amalekites held a feast (1 Samuel 30:16). Laḥog means to go around in dance, and a ḥag on a fixed date comes every year, returning again and again. Then by extension the sacrifice too is called a festival-offering (ḥag) (“the fat of My festival-offering shall not remain until morning”).

BS"D, on the eve of Shabbat, “He appointed it as a testimony for Joseph when he went out over the land of Egypt,” 5781

Apparently even a day on which no festival offering is brought is called a “festival,” for regarding Rosh Hashanah it says, “Blow the shofar at the new moon, at the covered moon, for our festival day,” and Hazal explained: “Which festival is it on which the month is covered? This is Rosh Hashanah.”

At any rate, we find that the days of Hanukkah were established to be “good days with Hallel and thanksgiving,” and thus the paytan established: “Hanukkah is a good festival” 🙂 Therefore let us bless one another: “A gut yom tov.”

With bright Hanukkah blessings, Ami’oz Yaron Schnitzler

A. “One of the ways to discover what those commands are is to search in the Torah and according to the halakhic interpretations of the sages of each and every generation.”

Tell me, are you messing with me? In Judaism the Torah is only one of the ways? The text that according to your own belief was given from Heaven and all of us were commanded not only to know but also to observe its commandments is merely an “option” from Judaism’s point of view? Maybe you’d like to think again about that sentence and reformulate it?

B. “The only one who has authority for me is the honored Master, God”? “For me”…? Who asked you what your opinion is? We were commanded from above to observe the Torah. Period.

C. If I showed you a book defined as an educational book, you would presumably try to understand the messages it wishes to convey to you. This is a trivial conclusion, and there is no reason not to apply it to the Torah as well (and in fact in practice you probably already do so). So simple as that.

D. Every interpretation as such tries to extract the true meaning hidden behind texts. If it is philosophical interpretation, it will formulate what it found there in philosophical principles, i.e., abstract and general principles.

E. Again, you are the one who determines… The Torah views itself as an objective reality. According to its own approach, it is not some stream of consciousness of individuals or anything of the sort. It follows that whoever wishes to be faithful to it must calibrate his interpretation to it according to its way, not according to his own. Of course, for flesh-and-blood human beings a subjective factor is also layered onto this. So what! The main part is the objective input.

Within the meaning of ḥag there is also something that circles in a cyclical orbit, as in Isaiah 29: “Add year to year, let the festivals go round,” which may be interpreted as: “let them circle in the cycle of time.”

But there is also a “multitude surging” that moves powerfully toward a goal, as in the description of the psalmist in Psalm 42: “I would pass along to the house of God with a voice of joy and praise, a surging multitude.” Rashi brought from Midrash Tehillim that it is a Greek term for pools of water called “ḥogegin,” as the paytan Kaliri wrote: “Mighty, surging and sweeping like a river.”

May it be His will that the days of Hanukkah be not only in the sense of “festivals” circling in cyclical orbit, but also like a river surging and sweeping powerfully and widening its channel as it flows.

With blessings, Yaron Fishel Odner

It should further be noted who circles around on Hanukkah days: namely the dreidel, which spins all the days of the festival. The dreidel continues to spin even after it falls—it does not lose heart, but rises from its fall and begins to spin anew, and “immediately after a fall comes Hanukkah, a new beginning” 🙂

A. Another way is direct intuition of what He demands (morality).
B. Which opinion would sir like me to present to him? The opinion of Rabbi Hanina ben Teradyon? Perhaps the opinion of the Rebbe of Seret-Vizhnitz? I am only capable of presenting my own opinion (even though I learned it from Rabbi Michael, at the moment it is my opinion).
C. I am indeed very interested in the practical messages the Torah conveyed. Messages such as “Six days you shall eat matzot” and “A garment of mixed wool and linen shall not come upon you.” Every binding message is a practical one (an obligation is an obligation to do something), and every non-binding message is not interesting.
E. The Torah is altogether a protocol documenting various things and enabling us through it to discover what God commands us to do. It has no self-conception beyond that, and who spoke at all about a stream of consciousness. I feel I’m not getting to the bottom of your meaning, but let us set this point aside as well for later.

A. Now I understood what you meant. I did not mean that the other way comes instead of the Torah, but in addition to the Torah. Just as one of my ways of knowing how many teaspoons of sugar my sister wants me to stir into her tea is to read her WhatsApp message, and another way is to remember what she asked for yesterday, and a third way is to think what seems suitable to me because I know that today alongside this tea she is going to eat very sweet chocolate.

I mentioned above Hazal’s explanation that “our festival day” is Rosh Hashanah, which falls on the day of the month when the moon is covered.

But perhaps there is room to interpret that “for our festival day” refers to “the festival of Sukkot,” which is also called “the festival of the Lord.” On this festival, when a person gathers into his home all the fruit of his labor throughout the year, the joy of the tiller of the soil reaches its peak.

As preparation for the great joy, the shofar is sounded on the first day of the month. In anticipation of the day of joy expected over the ingathering of the fruit of our labor, we also gather together all our deeds in the year that has passed and examine them carefully: are they fit “to enter into existence,” or must we winnow them away in order to arrive at the joy of the yearly ingathering clean and pure.

With blessings, Yaron Fishel Ordner

Correction to the correction: a Jew is a person obligated in mitzvot. A gentile is the negation of a Jew, a person who is not obligated in mitzvot. Therefore a gentile obligated in mitzvot is an oxymoron. If he is obligated in mitzvot he is no longer a gentile. But both gentiles and Jews are people.

The description “one who observes mitzvot” is factual and not normative; there are Jews who do not observe mitzvot and they are still Jews. By contrast, “obligated in mitzvot” is a normative description, and therefore it is more accurate.

“Halakha” in the rabbi’s mouth accurately describes the obligation to perform mitzvot, but following Leibowitz it has taken on a sociological cast: halakha is what Jews do, and therefore that is what Jews ought to do. But there is no normative description here; Jews are obligated in observing mitzvot because God commanded them. Hence Doron’s argument arises, that the argument from halakha is analytic and not synthetic. We may note that in Leibowitz’s case he does not really have a choice. As a Maimonidean he denies that God derives benefit from the mitzvot. As a Kantian he denies that man derives benefit from the mitzvot. As a result the mitzvot lose all meaning and become sociological customs. The rabbi, by contrast, is not a Maimonidean, and therefore he has no problem attributing meaning to the mitzvot, even if only vis-à-vis Heaven (mitzvot for the sake of the higher need). In any event, it seems that instead of halakha, the precise description is accepting the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven and accepting the yoke of mitzvot.

BS"D, on the eve of Shabbat, “who provides food for all the people of the land,” 5781

To Y.D. — greetings,

Apparently, what is the practical difference? Both the gentile and the Jew are obligated in mitzvot: the gentile in the seven Noahide commandments and the Jew in the 613. And even within Israel there are gradations; for example, priests are obligated in more mitzvot than others.

On the face of it, the essential difference is that a Jew is part of the “vanguard corps” whose role is to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” that imparts the Torah’s faith and values to all humanity. The Jew is meant to be “the heart among the organs,” “who provides for all the people of the land,” awakening humanity to walk in the ways of the Lord and realize the values of justice and uprightness embodied in the seven basic commandments, and he is the one who will guide them to walk in the “paths of the God of Jacob,” which in the future will bring humanity to peace and unity.

With blessings, Yaron Fishel Korinaldi

Y.D.,
I am referring only to the latter part of your remarks.
I agree with the general direction you are going, only it seems to me that I take it more seriously than you are prepared to take it.
Accepting the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven can be done in an infinite number of ways. The Jewish way of the Torah (the yoke of mitzvot) is only one of them.
It follows that the Torah lands in the paradoxical position of commanding its most devoted adherents to observe it fully by means of abandoning it.

“It is time to act for the Lord; they have violated Your Torah.”

Good luck with that

Dear Mr. Korinaldi,

Indeed you are right. The Jew is the vanguard corps of the world, and he has the holiest mission of all (all this is part of the third floor that people like Michi and Thread are desperately trying to deny).
His mission: to give up the Torah that he is obligated to hold onto. If you have followed the discussion thus far, you can reach this conclusion on your own.

(I am of course deluding myself in vain… your expected Kookian response will be to find some “harmony” in which everything works out with everything…)

You say that you do not have religious experiences. If you did, it is likely that this would change some details in your intellectual awareness. So really, how is it possible that you are not taking advantage of the blessed era in which you live? How is it that you do not go to a ten-day Vipassana retreat, or at the very least devote a trip and one night to group drinking of the vine of the gods known as ayahuasca? If you travel, I’d be happy to join your ride 😉 One must say that he enjoys with all ten fingers what the halakhic world allows him. So how can one miss that? Great people and thinkers today make use of such consciousness-altering substances, and that is the coolest thing there is.

Your methodological failures simply leave scorched earth behind.

A. In Judaism, intuition is not a route of equal status with the Torah for discovering what God wants from us. Do I need to make that clear to you???
B. Your honor is indeed a subject, and like every subject he expresses positions of his own. So what? Does it seem to you that there is no external objective component in those positions? If you think so, apparently in your eyes human positions can only be arbitrary. Well, at least regarding these things you say, you are probably right.
C. “A non-binding message is not interesting”? Is that the norm guiding you…? And how will you know that it is a “binding” norm and not, heaven forbid, a description of some detached theoretical fact? By means of another second-order norm…?
E. “The Torah is a protocol documenting various things”? A moment ago you explained that the Torah is practical, meaning that it creates guiding norms, not that it “documents” facts supposedly. So in fact it does document…?

I also don’t understand your arguments, and I’m tired, and we’ve gone on quite long enough. In the past you invited me to take my leave in peace, and now I shall take my leave and make myself scarce.

BS"D, on the eve of Shabbat, “And Pharaoh awoke,” 5781

To Gil — greetings,

Pharaoh too recognized the advantages of the wondrous vine whose fruit elevates his inner world to marvelous places. For that reason he had no choice but to grant pardon to his wayward chief cupbearer, for there was no substitute for the heights of happiness and exaltation of spirit that this master blender managed to produce from the fruit of his vine.

Until one bright night a terrible realization struck Pharaoh. The wondrous experiences fade “at the end of the day,” and the bleak, gray, empty reality returns and strikes a person with even greater force. He is left with the abyssal emptiness, and all the bizarre experiences vanish as though they had never been; their memory only intensifies the frustration.

But even this time the chief cupbearer saves the situation—but not his intoxicating wine is the savior. The chief cupbearer remembers the figure of his fellow prisoner, who managed mentally to overcome his dreadful situation not through drunkenness and hallucination (there was no shortage of drugs in prison either :), but דווקא through sober thought, which knows how to look forward to a better future and plan how to advance toward it.

The master of intoxication offers the king the alternative: to attain happiness through sobriety. Joseph comes to the king and offers him the path to happiness that has an eternal dimension, happiness that does not “expire with use.” Even at a time of joy and excitement one must not get carried away. One needs to face the future, to preserve small portions of exaltation so that they will stand by us “for a day of small things.”

The additional dimension in which Joseph offers Pharaoh existing meaning is the dimension of responsibility toward his people. The new Pharaoh is no longer the slave of the chief cupbearer, focused on seeking uplifting experiences for himself. The new Pharaoh is Joseph’s student, focused not only on himself but constantly thinking and planning how he can benefit all whom he can.

And the third dimension that Joseph adds for Pharaoh is the feeling of divine mission. “It is not in me,” Joseph says to Pharaoh. “It is not I who act and do, but ‘God will answer for Pharaoh’s welfare’—I am only an emissary.”

When a person emerges from egocentric self-focus and sees himself as God’s emissary, acting with the aid of his Sender for the sake of advancing his people and all humanity toward a better future—then it is precisely sobriety, planning, execution, and reflection that fill a person with wondrous experience.

How did the prophet Micah define the “good” in his “trilogy”? “He has told you, O man, what is good… to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God,” for that is the whole of man.

With blessings for great dreams and successful execution, Yaron Fishel Korinaldi

The fruit of the wondrous vine brings joy when in the right measure. It can bring drunkenness that causes the loss of the divine image, but in small measure it stirs the heart, gladdens and draws close, and opens the mind to “thinking outside the box.”

That same chief cupbearer, expert in “and he forgot him,” is also the one who could dare suggest to the king to seek the “national savior” in a slave who had been cast into prison — “wine and fragrance make one clear-sighted.”

And therefore “there is no kiddush except in the place of the meal.” Grain-bread symbolizes understanding, for “a child does not say ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mommy’ until he tastes the taste of grain.” Wine can lull the mind, but in small measure it sharpens and intensifies thought — “wine and fragrance make one clear-sighted.”

With blessings of wine and life according to the abundance for the rabbis and their students, Ami’oz Yaron Schnitzler

What is the difference between religious feelings and spiritual intuitions (by definition)?

I agree in principle, only in my opinion the rabbi should go one further step and understand that rabbis have no authority even in matters of halakha (neither substantial nor formal). And that we need to start over and formulate a new halakha on the basis of the Torah at the level of scientific research.
We must engage much more in biblical studies instead of drowning in Gemara, even if that leads to undesirable conclusions.

The rabbi knows that this is the future and that this is where most of our efforts should be, and yet the rabbi deals with Gemara as though it contains the word of God.

I know that in the current mode of study it is impossible to draw conclusions from the plain meaning of the Torah, and everyone understands whatever he wants, but that is Hazal’s fault, because they screw things into the plain meaning and allow the formation of local and inconsistent interpretation instead of engaging in the search for meaning in the form of research, so that only interpretations that are comprehensive, consistent, and well-founded remain, rather than local and strained ones.

Regards

By the way, regarding circuses and theaters, what is really the rabbi’s (halakhic) opinion on the matter (in the Gemara in Avodah Zarah) of the prohibition of “the seat of scoffers”? What kind of prohibition is this? Neglect of Torah study? (The Gemara contrasts “he did not sit in the seat of scoffers” with “but his delight is in the Torah of the Lord,” meaning neglect of the positive commandment of Torah study?) It always seemed obvious to me that cultural, sports, and artistic performances in themselves (without things that lead to improper thoughts) cannot be forbidden. It’s a matter of common sense (but maybe I’m wrong). And indeed there is testimony about no minor rabbis who went to movies. But I did not know how to explain the Gemara and what exactly Hazal prohibited there. Even if we assume they were speaking about gladiatorial combats where people were killed (and in our times, isn’t a boxing match similar? And what about a fight on television?), they also mention in this prohibition the mokiyon, luliyon, and buliyon (Rashi: kinds of entertainment). Meaning a circus (today that would be soccer). I have no good and true explanation for this, and for me it stands as two verses that contradict one another until a third verse comes and decides between them.

Circuses are brought as a prohibition in the Rambam’s negative commandment 30, and there it is explained that it is because of the ways of the gentiles. This is something dependent on circumstances and period. And in Avodah Zarah 18b it is brought that it is because of attraction to idolatry.
“The seat of scoffers” is engagement in something devoid of value. And in the Gemara there it is stated that this is because it leads to neglect of Torah study. But again, there is an assumption here that it is devoid of value. Valuable pursuits are not forbidden because of neglect of Torah study. And see the Maharsha there, who wrote that if they contain words of wisdom or matters that bring joy, then there is no intrinsic prohibition, and the whole prohibition is only because they lead to neglect of Torah study.

But one can find value in everything. So what remains of the original prohibition?

I must comment on something regarding humility. I’m not coming to claim anything personal in the context of your humility, but I think you excessively limited the place of humility’s influence on shaping a worldview. According to you, the role of humility is only in “listening and seriously considering every argument and position”—only the basis for discussion. I think humility also has a role beyond that:
When a person deals with subjects that cannot be decided by clear proofs, but only by weighing which doubts are greater or lesser—for example the issue of the creation of the world according to the Rambam, or more relevant in our case, determinations about the manner of God’s providence in the world—humility should prevent a person from setting matters in stone in areas where he has no ability to decide, and in such matters one should also rely on tradition. Thus the Rambam recommends suspecting our intellect in deciding the question of creation versus eternity when there is no demonstrative proof, and relying on the prophets of Israel; and perhaps so too one should act in matters such as whether there is divine providence and whether He intervenes in reality.
In short, humility should not cause you to cancel your own opinion when you have evidence to the contrary, but it should prevent you from deciding as certainty an opinion contrary to tradition when you have no such evidence.
This is how the sages of Israel acted throughout the generations: they disagreed with earlier sages, but only when they had extremely strong arguments did they rule against them. Sometimes when reading your words it seems as though you follow a kind of mima nafshakh approach: if it doesn’t seem right to me, then why should I care that it comes from the tradition? And if it does seem right to me, then in any case there is no need for tradition. It is a bit like that Muslim ruler who burned the books, because if it is not written in the Quran then it is not true, and if it is written there then in any case it is already written.
The role of humility and faith in sages is not to nullify the intellect, but to see my intellect as part of a huge beit midrash in which there are many other opinions. And those opinions are no less good than mine when I have no good way to dismiss them with clear proofs.

Absolutely not true. What prevents decisive adoption of a position when you have no evidence for it is reason, not humility.

A Jew is someone who believes in Moses our teacher.
All the rest are heretics.

Living according to the commandments is the core, and that is everything.

After all, both accepting the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven (“the narrative,” “the first floor” according to Doron) and love of God (“the third floor” according to Doron) are included within the commandments.

Everything else (“trimmings and flowers,” according to Rabbi Michi) may pave the way toward a life according to the commandments. Some need them and some do not.

Rabbi Michi perhaps does not need them. The map of the world is clear and lucid to him. He sticks in a pin and he is there. Others do need a compass and Waze. Each according to his nature, inclinations, abilities, and talents. Some need the Guide for the Perplexed, and some need the Baal Shem Tov; some must understand every letter and crown in the verses of the Torah, and some are satisfied with the “geshmak” of a Talmudic sugya that has become clear to them.

To draw a distinction, for the sake of the analogy only—there is a prophet like Moses our teacher—a direct approach to the core. And there are those who need a harp and lyres or the song of the Levites for the spirit of God to rest upon them.

Whoever music interferes with his concentration—let him not listen to it. Whoever music helps him concentrate—let him choose the music that suits him.

Anything that helps lead to understanding the Torah and the commandments and to the observance of the commandments, and does not contradict any halakha at any stage of the way—is fitting and good.

And of course there is nothing novel in my words here. Only an attempt to emphasize a few things.

Dear N.B.,

First, your words contradict even the basic position that Michi himself is trying to advance (though he fails at it from time to time). Commandments (and laws in general) exist on the normative plane—“the desirable.” Narrative exists on a completely separate plane—the factual plane (“the existent”). Any attempt to blur this basic distinction produces empty discourse on the theoretical level.
On the practical level, in any case no one lives like that (just as no skeptic jumps into abysses merely to check whether gravity always works).

Second, it seems to me that you are giving Michi a bit too much credit. The man is very talented and brilliant (and his contribution to Israeli culture in general will yet receive recognition), but your claim that he has no need at all for the third floor has no grip on reality in my opinion. I am of course not determining this on the basis of personal acquaintance with the man—I have none—but on the basis of a philosophical assumption about the nature of human motivations. In this case, we are speaking of Michi’s passion for truth (theoretical truth) and his burning vision to fix Judaism, etc. All that fervor belongs to the third floor no less than the fervor of the bizarre Na-Nachs dancing at intersections, or that of the hilltop youth who go out to beat up “Arabs” in order to fulfill the commandment of wiping out Amalek.

Doron, it seems to me you did not get to the bottom of my words.

Of course, I did not presume to present Rabbi Michi’s position. I spoke only in my own name. It is quite possible that he does not agree with what was said.

In any case, I do not have the slightest doubt about his sincerity, his self-sacrifice, and his intellectual honesty. Without knowing him personally, of course.

It seems to me that the suit of lean Judaism cannot fit everyone. But there are those for whom only it will fit.

Still trying to understand.

According to the rabbi’s words, no sage has knowledge about Judaism that we do not have, and therefore there is also no authority to determine principles.
On that basis, I would expect that halakha too would be outside the area that the rabbi defines as Judaism,
after all, the Gemara too was written by sages whose knowledge does not surpass ours.
I would expect that the only source for what Judaism is (and halakha) from the rabbi’s perspective would be the Torah and what is written in it (and the Tanakh), since it is the only source brought to us as it is from God.
If the rabbi accepts a tradition of Oral Torah and halakha, why should he not also accept a tradition of Jewish belief and theology?
If the rabbi does not accept tradition and the authority of sages, then let it be all the way.

N.B.,

Allow me to say to you, in my audacity, that not only did you not understand me, you also do not understand your own words.

The question whether the suit of lean Judaism fits someone is a factual question from the field of psychology. Philosophically (that is, in terms of truth) it is uninteresting and in fact irrelevant.

My claim is philosophical (and therefore it also includes a sub-claim about our psychology): all of us, as limited human beings, are condemned to exist on the third floor as well. True, there are talented people like Michi who can “slim down” that floor—and may they be blessed for it. But to escape it entirely… there is no such thing.

Therefore, the problem in Michi’s philosophy (generally, but also specifically regarding the essence of Judaism, a subject he deals with extensively) is not in the very attempt to reduce the third floor. The problem is in the pretension (analytical in character) to abolish it entirely.
That is, of course, also the pretension of the Torah itself.
As a religious person, I would be much more worried about that last matter than about what Michi says…

The truth is embodied in the observance of the commandments. Therefore anything that leads to the observance of the commandments as they ought to be observed is relevant. Call it whatever you like.

May your honor forgive me, but these are empty pilpulim. If truth is embodied in the commandments, then there is no truth at all (for truth is numerically identical with the commandments). In any event there are also no commandments resting on it. The fact that you nevertheless acknowledge the existence of commandments means that you do not believe at all what your mouth is saying.

As I noted somewhere: the analytical thesis you keep returning to in this context draws its inspiration from the basic model of Judaism (“Torah from Heaven”). There, the role of “truth” is replaced by God, and the role of “the commandments” by the Torah. And there too, according to your method, you could come back and say that “God is embodied in the Torah” and no more… meaning there is no God without the Torah… and in more graphic language: poor God depends for His existence on the Torah…

I recommend returning again to Michi’s doctrine on this matter, and even better than that—read Zev Bechler.

Not true. Halakha deals with norms and not with facts, and therefore one can define formal authority regarding it. That is, there is an obligation to obey someone even if he is not right. Regarding facts, such authority cannot be defined. Search the site for discussion; I have elaborated on this several times. And of course also in my trilogy.

It seems to me that the commandment to love God is also a commandment.

The mature response of the decade. Congratulations.

And who said there is no humor on this site 🙂

You have a mistaken assumption, namely that Rabbi Michi educates or pretends to educate. He does not. The important role he has taken upon himself is to challenge. Sometimes it spills over into trolling. Not terrible. Educators must take into account piles of important considerations that Rabbi Michi is not willing to accept (that is, he accepts them as relevant to the educational field, and even that—only at favorable times from before him).

In my opinion, on the basis of this assumption, my teacher Rabbi Yehuda also made his claim. One cannot turn Rabbi Michi’s words into an educational doctrine (even if you are trying to educate yourself) except after processing them. Go and succeed.

Indeed, that is how it is when dealing with a machine-learning algorithm. Or with especially rare people. Fortunate are we that we merited it.

Hello Rabbi!

The rabbi paints a picture in which there is our Jewishness, which includes commitment to Torah and mitzvot alone, and alongside it our universal humanity, which includes philosophy, art, morality, etc., etc.
I would like to suggest a nuance—perhaps more of a quibble, and I hope not a poor quibble. To my taste this seems important.
The rabbi places these two worlds of content side by side in the hierarchy, and I think (and believe you also agree) that it is proper for a Jew to place the fact of his being a Jew obligated to Torah and mitzvot above all his other pursuits in life, and to see all his other pursuits as a framework that enables him to be a servant of God and as secondary to that service. Therefore, although I agree with you that there is no such thing as Jewish thought or Jewish philosophy, there is philosophy, folklore, and art of a Jew; morality of a Jew; humanity of a Jew; engagement in the vanities of the world of a person who sees at the center of his life commitment to Torah and mitzvot.
I would be glad to know your opinion.
Thank you very much for your enlightening work.
Good night!

I did not understand what there is here beyond semantics.

What the rabbi explains here is why Moses our teacher broke the first tablets.

He understood that he was dealing with heretics who would perform every possible intellectual acrobatics in order to deny.

And therefore the conception the rabbi represents should be seen as a punishment given to heretics.

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God

BS"D, 7 Tevet 5781

To Immanuel — greetings,

It seems to me that cleaving to God has several facets and several directions.

There is cleaving to God in the emotion of love and deep awe, as you described;

There is intellectual cleaving to God through the study of His Torah, in halakha and in thought, for “He and His wisdom and His will are one,” and when a person’s intellect grasps the wisdom and will of his Creator, he cleaves to Him, as described by the author of the Tanya and Nefesh HaChaim;

There is cleaving to God in doing His will and observing His commandments, as described by R. Moshe David Valle. When a person asks himself at every step in life, “What does God require of me?” he lives all the time with God and is constantly engaged in doing His will.

There is cleaving to God through morality and good character traits, by which a person fulfills “to cleave unto Him”—“cleave to His attributes: just as He is merciful, so you too be merciful; just as He is gracious, so you too be gracious.”

And there is cleaving to God through love and attachment to the entirety of Israel, for “for the Lord’s portion is His people,” and especially through attachment to Torah scholars, which Hazal also included in “to cleave unto Him.”

Just as a person’s personality is complex and multi-faceted and layered, and requires cultivation on all levels, each person according to the emphases and measure unique to him, so too the relationship with God must develop on all planes—the personal and social, the intellectual, emotional, and practical—all complementing one another.

With blessings, Simcha Fishel Plankton.

I asked once and I will ask again: what is the purpose of all this?

After all, there must be a reason both from our perspective and from God’s perspective.

From God’s perspective, in the sense that He has some reason for which He said to observe the commandments—that is very easy to assume. Intuitively, many people feel that the supreme purpose is to connect to God, to elevate their thought from the vanities of this world and materiality, and to immerse themselves in the radiance of the Divine Presence…
In short, I think there is indeed a tremendous lack in a method that forgets the reason the Torah and halakha were given, since only through that can one judge what the reason is to observe the commandments. Beyond the fact that one cannot rule out anything, there is a necessity here for an additional layer beyond dry observance of halakha and mitzvot.

And also from the human perspective this seems very strange to me: why should one observe commandments if he does not know what he gets out of them? And what kind of strange instruction is it to tell a person, “I unequivocally obligate you to observe a thousand and one things; what will come of it for you? Oh, actually, maybe nothing…” Here too there is a necessity for something additional beyond what we know. Reward and punishment, the World to Come, paradise, something…

If you trust the Giver of the Torah, then you assume there is benefit in observing His commandments. I have written this more than once. The reason to observe the commandments, which you want to judge, is not identification with the commandments but trust in the Giver of the Torah. This is what I called at the beginning of the third book of the trilogy a principle of sweeping and not specific value.

The current column does indeed bring some order!
True, even in the trilogy itself there is an incidental reservation that there is room for additional approaches—but the sharpening in this column, according to which its goal is to distill the minimal necessary framework without denying the possibility of additional floors above it, even if they are the thinker’s own creation—is an important clarification. In my opinion the need for it existed, because in the trilogy there is intensive discussion of examples illustrating the emptiness of “Jewish thought” in those subjects—and the blend sounds to the reader like a challenge and refutation of the very legitimacy, and not only of those examples.
Many thanks for the clarification.

I would add that even if someone may feel (as I did) that in some places a certain vacuum indeed remains—it is absurd in my eyes to undermine the composition because of this: could one reject it for exposing flaws in accepted conceptions merely because, for the time being, the basis on the new foundations has not yet been built?!

It seems to me analogous to rejecting the conclusions of (or undermining the value of) the Michelson–Morley experiment merely because it refuted the ether hypothesis without coming in a package deal with relativity and answering the question “what yes”… and the analogy is understood.

At the same time, there is one thing I would be curious to know:
Does the rabbi not think that the goal (observing halakha) sanctifies at least some means?
Let me clarify that I am not coming to justify all the fences, and certainly not the baseless customs that became fixed in parts of the Haredi public; I will go even further and say that not even their claim that (say what we will about them) they succeeded in preserving a Jewish character relative to other streams am I convinced by, for those who say so tend to ignore and deduct from the statistics the massive secularization over the last two hundred years from within those very communities themselves (perhaps due to certain fixations regarding what is tangible);

And yet, one cannot ignore the rush in recent decades of yeshiva students and broad parts of the observant public after the fields of thought in general and Hasidism in particular (especially Chabad thought)—while at times openly declaring that they seek and need a fuller ideological basis as a motive for observance, perseverance, and engagement within the halakhic framework—that same binding core distilled in the trilogy.

Alongside this is also well known the devotion and heightened scrupulousness in mitzvah observance characteristic of Chabad Hasidim (by virtue of those discourses exposing deeper layers in the meaning of the mitzvot in general and of each mitzvah and its details in particular) and of thinkers immersed in their writings—writings that purport to be based on kabbalistic thought—which your honor himself does not dismiss in the trilogy (even if their interpretation of them is not a logical interpretation but contains intuitions, though perhaps very sharp ones, of the writers).
(And do not answer me with sukkah and prayer times—for these are a drop in the bucket relative to the practical commandments among the 613 today, and they have already been clarified as a conscious compromise in favor of another important / more fundamental aspect at times within that very commandment itself, and I will not go into it here.)

I and many others tend to see in this greater meticulousness empirical support for the view that acting out of richer thought, even if based on spiritual intuition (provided it has not been refuted), can indeed—not on an irrelevant basis like reward or other forms of not-for-its-own-sake—harness the average Jew to the binding core: the result is not accidental in light of the a priori engagement with this in those contents. For example, a substantial part of the foundational discourses in Chabad deals with deepening the aspect of the greatness of man’s being a servant of God, and why this does not contradict his existence and reality, and what the greatness is of service specifically out of a sense of independent existence and separateness characteristic of most ordinary people—when the service itself is of course expressed in observance of mitzvot and Torah study, with emphasis on studying and refining halakha (Hemshekh 5666).

I intentionally latched on to the example of Chabad because in the sea of charlatans that has spread today in the area of halakha, there is principal value (even if not formal authority) to the reliability of the thinker when we come to examine a body of thought that is almost entirely claims with no way to verify them. Therefore I chose to demonstrate from the thought of Jews for whom there is a statistical-empirical basis to substantiate their spiritual level by virtue of documented thousands of cases and more (in non-random percentages) of acts of intervention difficult to explain naturally (even if in each case individually one may challenge the statistical skill of the person involved).

Now consider for yourself:
If there is a conception such that
A. it has at least a principled place in the sense that it has not been refuted at its root (and do not answer me with tzimtzum not to be taken literally—for on the merits of the matter Chabad writings describe under this title a balanced picture and not an interpretation of “everything is an illusion,” which is the interpretation you assumed in the analysis of the letter surveying the four methods);
B. it demonstrably helps strengthen observance of the binding core—which your honor also says is God’s will, not only its distillation, after which everyone may do what is right in his own eyes;
C. those who observe on its basis are holding onto the right reasons (acknowledgment that it is fitting to serve Him, together with illustrations and contemplation to bring this closer to their understanding), and not reward or substitute compensations;

Do not all these amount to an illustration (and perhaps even without it, by a priori conceptual analysis we would arrive there) that it is not enough “to refute the ether hypothesis,” but that one should seek a fuller theory that also gives the ability to perform mechanical calculations (for all velocities / systems of reference), and not merely throw out the baby (classical mechanics) with the bathwater?

I ask because it seems that beyond the impressive work of thought done in the trilogy to distill the core—there is implied in it a sort of agenda according to which one can, and it is preferable, to remain with the core alone.
And I wonder—what is your criterion for what is fitting to do?

Is the degree of success of a method (among those that do not replace the ends of divine service with an alternative end on other foundations that are not “for its own sake”) not a measure when considering whether it is enough to make do with the core?

As I explained, my aim was to distill the minimal framework. Everything else remains for each person’s own decision. But the examples I brought show that many times those additions are baseless nonsense lacking reason.
In my view, the result of greater scrupulousness in mitzvot is irrelevant to assessing the philosophical doctrine. The question is whether it is true, not whether it is useful.

Yes, but does the subject you are dealing with conceptually allow this separation?
That is, does the fact that its content speaks about what ought to be done not inevitably bind together what is correct (= correctly describes what ought to be) and what helps one fulfill what ought to be? (Provided that its tactical usefulness is not founded on grounds contrary to “what is correct”)?

I did not understand. Of course one can separate, and indeed one must separate.

I mean something like “and you shall keep My charge”—make a safeguard for My charge.
You distilled the “factual” basis.
Its content is what the Holy One, blessed be He, expects us to do.
If one accepts (even without the midrash on the verse / the above tradition) the assumption that in His eyes there is value in the scope of observance of His commandments—does this not introduce into that very framework itself that additional floor of a “safeguard,” which helps in that regard?

Just as a moral principle obligates action according to it in a situation where it points in a certain direction, and thereby turns that action into a moral one—so too, it seems to me, God’s will regarding how *each Jew* should conduct himself also concerns indirect actions (which are not explicitly part of the core) according to their effect on its observance.

That is, if we were to assume negatively that this is not so—it would mean that the Holy One, blessed be He, does not care at all about thought and engagement in a conceptual basis beyond observance of the commandments—even though its absence can detract from and even harm observance of the commandments (when in our times, at any rate, one cannot deny what is obvious in this).

And in short one should ask: is one who believes in individual providence, the eternity of the Torah, the World to Come, the coming of the Messiah, and the resurrection of the dead—kosher according to the “trilogy,” because these beliefs may strengthen him in observance of halakha, or perhaps anyone who adds a principle to the principles of religion—the existence of the Creator, something given at Sinai, the people of Israel accepted the Talmud, and the principle of principles: halakhic, moral, and intellectual autonomy—is a heretic (according to the “trilogy”)?

May the teacher instruct us in all this, and so may it be his word (if there is any reward at all…), with the blessing of Shay Gates, nicknamed Samson Letz

I would be glad for a response from the author of the column(s) to my original question and not to appendices such as this.
I focused on the question whether a broader basis (kabbalistic or philosophical in general) that focuses on the content of the binding core—such as deeper aspects of the mitzvot—is not itself part of that core?

I am intentionally speaking about belonging to the core—as distinct from the division into Torah as object and Torah as subject made in the trilogy (according to which it certainly can belong to Torah as subject).

By way of emphasis on the fact that specifically because I *think*, therefore I exist, since this is compelled from itself by the fact that at the very least there is someone who thinks.
So too here—if the core is not merely a list but a list whose meaning is the things that the Holy One, blessed be He, *wants* us to fulfill—does this not almost compel from itself (even without the midrash of “and you shall keep My charge”) the actions that assist in fulfilling the will?

Let me illustrate with an interesting example I found in Israel’s Basic Law: The Knesset:

Regulations

37.    (a)  The minister charged with the execution of a law is authorized to enact regulations for its implementation.

          (b)  A law may authorize the Prime Minister or a minister to enact regulations in a matter determined in the authorization.

Are such regulations, and in our case let us call them “engagement in the inner dimension of Torah regarding the reasons for the mitzvot,” not simply an example of a regulation such as those which the minister / prime minister is authorized here to enact, and by virtue of that are legally sheltered under the Basic Law: The Knesset, even if their content in practice deals with a side aspect?

I see no point in wasting time on these empty pilpulim. The example is not an example and the question does not exist. I answered.

So let us set aside the examples and ask from the perspective of explicit halakha:

Rema’s glosses, siman 98:
Gloss: Before prayer, one should contemplate the exaltedness of God, may He be blessed, and the lowliness of man.

Let us assume for the sake of discussion that we have accepted this ruling of the Rema as though it were an explicit determination of the Talmud itself / a pure interpretive move of his on it.

Are contents that assist in fulfilling the halakha’s instruction (once it has been verified that they illustrate God’s exaltedness for most of their learners, and have not yet been refuted) not worthy of being called part (even if instrumental) of the binding core?

No.

BS"D, Saturday night, “and I will surely bring you up as well,” 5781

To R. Yitzhak Bernstein — greetings,

And after all the claims and objections of the author of the “trilogy,” which have no substance—there remains the “hard core” of the thirteen principles listed by the Rambam in his introduction to the commentary on the Mishnah, all of which are based on the Holy Scriptures, and therefore are agreed upon by almost all the great sages of Israel.

There can be disputes in the details—such as whether the redemption will be natural or miraculous, and whether individual providence is only in Israel or over all humanity, and the like—but in the general principles there cannot be dispute, since the matters are explicit in the Holy Scriptures.

There is no point in seeking approval from the author of the “trilogy,” but there is no need for such approval. The God of the philosophers who does not watch over His world—is not the God of the Torah, neither the Written Torah nor the Oral Torah.

With blessings, S.Z. Levinger

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… in his introduction to the commentary on the chapter Helek, all of which…

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… approval from the author of the “trilogy,” but …

I am not seeking such approval, and as you noticed I did not ask about his personal positions on these matters, but precisely about the boundaries of such a minimal core—whose unique value in my eyes lies in its being more forceful in relation to more speculative floors (without contradicting the fact that above it, even the author of the trilogy seems to acknowledge the possibility of additional floors (Kabbalah and in general), even if they are not as necessary and verified as the first one).

Therefore I wondered whether in his view the obligation to study and engage with “I am the Lord your God” and “You shall have no…” (the roots of fulfillment of positive and negative commandments, which as I understand are a general root in the sense that they include the fulfillment of the entire 248 positive commandments / 365 prohibitions) are not also within the implementation of the lean core—so long as they assist commitment to it and its fulfillment.

I am not convinced I understood why not (for does the overall will, or the collection of wills that we fulfill each of the 613 commandments, not also include a general will that we help ourselves fulfill them?) but I will try to think about it.

Beyond the fact that the Rambam’s thirteen principles are anchored in the Holy Scriptures—the historical experience teaches that reducing Judaism to observance of commandments alone was tried in two periods: by extreme Aristotelians in Spain who thought that “the God of the philosophers” neither supervises nor is interested in human actions, and by Moses Mendelssohn, who also thought that Judaism is only commandments and laws, whereas belief derives from philosophy (which in his own personal case also included belief in providence and the persistence of the soul).

The Aristotelian conception in Spain led to mass conversion to Christianity, because if the God of the philosophers does not care what a person does, and religion is needed only so that a person will not act licentiously, then many concluded from this that it makes no difference whether you are a Jew or a Christian. Likewise Mendelssohn’s conception did not endure. He himself still observed the commandments, but most of his descendants converted to Christianity.

Conceptions of this kind—that Judaism is only halakha—can help someone who has adopted, under the inspiration of philosophy, a different system of “beliefs and opinions,” so that he still will not entirely abandon the religious way of life. But in the long run, and all the more so in the next generation—the yoke of commandments without strong faith and without vitality in serving God—will not endure.

So “consider well what is before you.”

With blessings, S.Z. Levinger

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… that historical experience teaches…

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… in two periods: by …

As far as I know, Mendelssohn sought already in his lifetime to change halakha according to a fashionable moral-philosophical-scientific view, to align with the authorities regarding delaying burial for three days out of concern that death had not been properly determined.