Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel’s Thought – Genesis – Lecture 1
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
🔗 Link to the original lecture
🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI
Table of Contents
- The structure of the second part of the book
- The non-Haredi point of view and the move from Jewish law to interpretation
- Rabbi Shilat’s warning and the parallel to warnings about Guide for the Perplexed
- Rehabilitation, the pantheon, and erasing uniqueness
- Truth, danger, Rashba’s ban, and educational myths
- History, post-Zionism, and Trumpeldor
- The limits of “did it happen or not” and the revelation at Mount Sinai
- Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel’s introduction: truth, parable, and plain meaning
- Parables, metaphors, and the distinction between literal and non-literal meaning
Summary
General Overview
The second part of the book moves from dealing with the sources of Jewish law and the application of his method to halakhic topics, to dealing with interpretation of the Torah, especially in a series of lectures on the Book of Genesis and a series of lectures on Abraham our forefather. The speaker presents Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel as someone with a “very non-Haredi” point of view, and explains that in the field of biblical interpretation Haredi sensitivity is especially strong, so he expects an even sharper expression there of his uniqueness. In this context he brings Rabbi Shilat’s warning, “There are things in this chapter that are not suited to every person,” and the speaker criticizes the assumption that ideas are measured by whether they are dangerous or familiar rather than by whether they are true. He expands on mechanisms of conservatism, bans, and educational myths, in comparison to the religious and Zionist worlds. He then quotes Rabbi Gedaliah’s “introduction”: the Torah is not a book of history, science, or philosophy, but has a moral purpose; yet when it tells facts, we must understand that it is telling the truth, alongside a distinction between the literal meaning and parable, metaphor, and figurative meaning, relying on Maimonides’ introduction to the Guide and on the concept of parable both in Scripture and in the aggadic literature of the Sages.
The structure of the second part of the book
The second part of the book comes after the introduction and includes a section on Genesis followed by an article on Abraham our forefather, described as a series of lectures on Abraham and a series of lectures on Genesis. The speaker is not sure whether these are exactly the lectures he heard about Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel giving at the end of his life in Bnei Brak, when he gave lessons on Wednesday mornings at Lederman, the synagogue associated with the Chazon Ish circle, where Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky and the Steipler prayed. The speaker says he heard reports that Rabbi Gedaliah “put in there all the things that from Bnei Brak’s perspective were total heresy,” and describes it as a fascinating phenomenon of attraction to subversion alongside condemnation. He adds that in practice he did not attend because of the timing, and that later the lectures dwindled because of Rabbi Gedaliah’s illness.
The non-Haredi point of view and the move from Jewish law to interpretation
The speaker places this new discussion as a continuation of what was seen earlier: first an article on the sources of Jewish law such as Torah-level law, rabbinic law, logical reasoning, and halakhah given to Moses at Sinai, from an “objective” point of view of a scholar with reflections; then the application of that to a halakhic topic, the law of majority and its meaning. He presents the current section as applying that same approach to interpretation of the Torah, and emphasizes that this is “twice as interesting,” because in the Haredi world people rarely engage in interpreting Genesis beyond reading Rashi, and because biblical scholarship is more sensitive than Talmudic scholarship from the standpoint of tradition and theology. He states that Haredi and Hardal are “the same thing” in this context, adding that the only difference is that the Hardalim study Tanakh, but in a Haredi style.
Rabbi Shilat’s warning and the parallel to warnings about Guide for the Perplexed
Rabbi Shilat adds a note and warning after writing that the material had been before Rabbi Gedaliah’s eyes, and in his words: “There are things in the coming chapter that are not suited to every person,” and a reader to whom these things do not sit well “should hold on to the other opinions held in these matters by great and worthy figures,” with a reference: “See the introduction of our teacher’s Guide for the Perplexed by Maimonides of blessed memory,” and he quotes a passage from the introduction. Rabbi Shilat adds that whoever studies the introduction to the book regarding the attitude of the leading rabbis of the generation “will know to be careful with his ember,” and warns against those who twist things crookedly, even interpreting “The Lord shall lead them away with the workers of iniquity” as a situation in which someone who speaks about Torah scholars thinks himself righteous, but on the day of judgment the Holy One will remove him from the line of the righteous and lead him with the evildoers. The speaker identifies this as a classic Haredi introduction, meant both to prevent slander of Rabbi Gedaliah and to block ideological influence that might “destroy the kindergarten teacher’s whole education.”
Rehabilitation, the pantheon, and erasing uniqueness
The speaker argues that after Rabbi Gedaliah’s death, a process of rehabilitation took place in which his “completely classic” halakhic Torah insights were republished in order to bring him into the yeshivish pantheon, while blurring his true uniqueness. He illustrates the mechanism of conservatism through a story about Rabbi Moshe Shapira of Jerusalem, whose father said he was “a waste” because he dealt with the Maharal, Tanakh, and thought instead of analytical Talmud study of works like Ketzot HaChoshen. He compares this to the Lithuanian tendency to see uniqueness as deviation from the standard. He adds an association to an ironic song about Ahad Ha’am, Einstein, Spinoza, and “what a waste,” and argues that in the pantheon “only the standards get in.”
Truth, danger, Rashba’s ban, and educational myths
The speaker criticizes the approach that examines ideas by whether they are “dangerous or not” rather than “true or not,” and develops this through a discussion of Rashba’s ban on allegorical interpretation associated with Yedaya HaPenini, including the question of why it matters whether Abraham chased the kings “or whether it was only in a dream.” He describes the usual explanation that “things that really happened” have more impact, but argues that this proves not factuality but at most psychology. He adds that the use of a ban is a social tactic aimed at the masses, explicitly saying that he “despises anyone on whom that works.” He connects this to further examples: claims that religious faith is dangerous, a quotation along the lines of “I don’t believe in God, but don’t tell that to my servants,” and a Bnei Akiva story comparing Hannah and her seven sons to the binding of Isaac, with the answer that “Abraham our forefather brought that power into the world,” even to the point of suggesting there may be a metaphysical layer here too, that “he brought that thing into the world.”
History, post-Zionism, and Trumpeldor
The speaker compares the allegorical controversy to arguments over Zionist myths and the “new historians” surrounding the question whether Trumpeldor said, “It is good to die for our country,” or cursed in Russian. He argues that both sides assume together that if it happened then it obligates us, and if it did not happen then it does not obligate us, and he asks why that matters if the myth educates even without factuality. He uses this to argue that there is a broad intuitive connection between historical facts and normative meaning, and that this appears “everywhere there are things people care about.”
The limits of “did it happen or not” and the revelation at Mount Sinai
The speaker mentions Rabbi Amit Kula’s book Did It Happen or Not, whose goal is to neutralize the need for a historical foundation for faith, and notes that he likes the idea but “stops” at “the revelation at Mount Sinai.” He presents a distinction between stories about the patriarchs or historical details and the foundational event of the giving of the commandments, and argues that if there was no encounter in which commandments were given, “there is probably no reason at all to observe any of this.” He adds that what interests him mainly is the giving itself and not “the pyrotechnics,” and emphasizes that the factual debate about Mount Sinai is “a different playing field” from the debate about details such as Abraham or the war of the four kings.
Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel’s introduction: truth, parable, and plain meaning
The quoted introduction states that “the Torah is not a book of history, science, or philosophy,” but rather “a book with a moral purpose,” and that “from everything in the Torah one should learn a moral lesson”; however, “when we find in the Torah stories of facts, we must understand that the Torah is telling the truth.” The introduction adds that a true story leaves a stronger impression than tales that never happened, that the deeds of the patriarchs serve as “a sign for the children,” and that the more closely one knows the heroes and the facts, the stronger the moral impression. Rabbi Gedaliah writes that it may be that “Job never was and was never created, but was only a parable” (Job, according to one opinion in Bava Batra 15), when the thing did not happen and they wanted to convey a moral lesson by way of parable; but regarding the events of creation, “they did happen in some manner,” and therefore “there is no reason at all to say that the Torah changed the truth and told false things in order to teach us a moral lesson,” adding that “recognition of the truth in itself is also a moral value.”
Parables, metaphors, and the distinction between literal and non-literal meaning
Rabbi Gedaliah writes that one must distinguish between “things in their literal meaning” and “things not in their literal meaning,” and that “the Torah and the books of prophecy are full of parables,” in the words of Maimonides in the introduction to the Guide, especially in matters of creation, “which are deep and hidden matters,” and likewise in the aggadic literature of the Sages there is much that is by way of parable and figurative expression. He emphasizes that words cannot say everything and that assumptions about context are required, and that the same sentence can imply one thing or its opposite depending on the tone in which it is said; yet despite that, there still exists an understanding of “literal meaning” as opposed to “by way of parable and figurative expression.” He distinguishes between cases where the parable is a story whose facts are not the main thing, and perhaps there are no facts at all, “such as Jacob’s ladder,” and cases where the facts are literal but come to teach something beyond the simple meaning, and finally he notes that there is speech using words not in their literal sense but in a broad or borrowed sense.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The second part of the book, which deals with interpretation—basically, after the introduction there’s a section here on the Book of Genesis, and after that some article on Abraham our forefather. Meaning, this is a series of lectures on Abraham our forefather and a series of lectures on the Book of Genesis. This series on Genesis, if I understand correctly—I’m not sure this is actually it, because I know that I started hearing Rabbi Gedaliah toward the end of my time in Bnei Brak, and that was already really close to the end of the period when he was giving lectures. And then he started giving lectures on Wednesday mornings at Lederman. Lederman is the synagogue of the Chazon-Ishniks; as is well known, Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky, the whole gang there prayed there, and of course the Steipler was there before all of them. And it was pretty funny. I didn’t go to any such lecture because it was Wednesday morning—I couldn’t make that time—but I heard echoes. He brought in there all the things that from Bnei Brak’s point of view are total heresy. I don’t even yet know exactly what—we’ll see here, we’ll see what it’s about—but those are the reports I heard. And it should be noted that he was a disciple-colleague, a disciple of the Chazon Ish, and he’s sitting there right in the middle—friend of Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky, in the same building, his neighbor—and right there in the middle of Lederman he’s giving these lectures. Of course, Haredi people are terribly interested in that. Meaning, you can denounce it outside, but it’s interesting. If there’s something subversive, who wouldn’t come hear it? So on the one hand they come to hear it, and on the other hand they don’t exactly slander it, but they condemn it—or I don’t even know how to define it. It was a phenomenon, a fascinating phenomenon. I would have loved to go, but it was exactly at the hour when I simply couldn’t show up on those Wednesdays. I don’t know whether these are those lectures on Genesis, but I do know they were lectures on Genesis—that I do know, because these were really almost the last lectures he gave. I think before I moved to Yeruham he had already stopped giving his lectures. He was ill, and somehow the whole thing tapered off. So I don’t know whether this is that or not, but it doesn’t matter. In any case, just to put things in the context of what we’ve seen until now: I spoke a bit about his unique point of view, in the sense that it’s very non-Haredi, and through that I tried to define a little what “Haredi” means, and why this is not that, and why this point of view is not Haredi. I won’t go back over all that again. But until now, what we saw was: his first article dealt with the sources of Jewish law—Torah-level law, rabbinic law, reasoning, halakhah given to Moses at Sinai, all those things—where you can see a kind of objective perspective, the perspective of a scholar with reflections. I spoke about how this is part of Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel’s very non-Haredi outlook. After that we saw an application of that to a halakhic topic, the law of majority, what majority means and so on, which was really just to see how it works when you enter into the study of an actual topic. And again, broadly speaking, we didn’t really get into the details of the topic itself, but into what he brings here in the book. And now, in this section, we’re basically going to see the same thing applied to interpretation of the Torah. Now, with interpretation of the Torah, this is twice as interesting from two standpoints. First, who among the Haredim even deals with interpretation of the Torah? At most they read Rashi. I mean, nobody deals with interpretation of Genesis—that’s neglect of Torah study. If you can learn Ketzot HaChoshen, who deals with Genesis? That’s one point. And on the other hand, here, of course, this ought at least to be expressed in a much stronger way than in the halakhic world. In the halakhic world, fine—you’re a Talmudic scholar. You understand that Talmudic scholarship is something far less sensitive than biblical scholarship. What can Talmudic scholarship really say? It can show similarities to other systems, that there were influences, I don’t know. Fine, okay, so they don’t like that in Bnei Brak, but it’s not the end of the world. What can happen, after all? So there were influences—so what? But in biblical scholarship it is obviously much more sensitive from the standpoint of tradition, from the standpoint of theology, and therefore, let’s say, you can expect—
[Speaker B] And Hardal too, not only from the standpoint—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. Haredi and Hardal are the same thing as far as I’m concerned in this context. Haredi and Hardal are the same thing.
[Speaker B] In Haredi eyes, Haredi and Hardal are the same thing.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The only difference is that the Hardalim do study the Hebrew Bible, but when they study the Hebrew Bible they basically study it the way the Haredim would study it if they studied the Hebrew Bible. So in that sense it’s not a real difference. Hardalim are Haredim, there’s no difference. So that’s why I’m saying that here I expect a much cruder, much stronger expression of this uniqueness of his point of view. And no wonder: this opens with some warning, item A, by Rabbi Shilat. So after he writes that this list was before Rabbi Gedaliah’s eyes—that is, that he approved what is written here—he adds a note and a warning. The author says: “In the chapter before us there are things that are not suited to every person.” Rabbi Shilat is also an old-style Jew. Even though he has a certain openness, he’s also kind of split, I think, about these matters. “There are things that are not suited to every person. A reader who finds that they do not sit well with his mind because he has become accustomed to other views should hold on to the other views held in these matters by great and worthy figures.” A completely classic Haredi preface. Meaning: yes, be careful that this won’t harm you. I remember even when I was in Gush—this was an earlier period of Gush; today nobody talks like this anymore, though there are probably even earlier periods represented here—but when I was in Gush, from a relatively early time, there was this feeling floating around in the air that Guide for the Perplexed is dangerous, and you can really… That’s not something you hear floating around Gush today, even in places less open than Gush. But back then, studying Guide for the Perplexed was still a bit unusual. And some guy came—I don’t even remember who it was—who taught Guide for the Perplexed. He didn’t teach it in the yeshiva; he taught it in the community center. So of course I went to hear it, because they said it was interesting. I don’t know, it wasn’t especially interesting, but never mind. These introductions come from that same fear. So what do they say to a person? Look, it’s very dangerous, and if you’re used to other views that’s also okay. Meaning—what? As though you adopt views according to what you’re used to. The ridiculous assumption in this warning is: what does it mean, if you’re used to other views? The question is what’s true. What do you mean, used to? Since when do you evaluate views by whether they’re dangerous or not? Since when do people evaluate things like that? You evaluate views by whether they’re true or not. It’s such a strange outlook. This warning is a classic Haredi warning. Rabbi Shilat is doing the work of the Haredi who comes to protect us from Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel. And that’s very interesting, because the purpose of the book is ostensibly the opposite. He wants to present Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel. You understand—I spoke about this—that after Rabbi Gedaliah died, even his family cooperated with the rehabilitation process. So they republish some sort of his Torah insights, halakhic, totally classic, standard yeshivish stuff. You read it, you fall asleep after two pages. I mean, it’s the usual material, standard stuff. But they’re trying to show that he too was a regular Lithuanian yeshiva scholar and learner, and therefore he can be brought into the pantheon, while all his real uniqueness is being blurred out. It reminds me of a story—I’m thinking of it now by association. There’s a Jew named Rabbi Moshe Shapira from Jerusalem. Not Rabbi Moshe Shmuel Shapira of Be’er Yaakov, of blessed memory, but Rabbi Moshe Shapira. He made headlines some time ago, not in a pleasant context, but he’s an interesting man. One of the only or very rare thinkers in the Haredi world who actually deals with the Maharal, the Hebrew Bible, thought, and topics that are not hard-core Lithuanian learning. He was the spiritual supervisor in Tifrach, and afterward he ran some kollels for people returning to repentance. I remember hearing once—I had some kind of connection with him for a certain period—that his father said he was really a waste. Because he’s a very talented man, and he really knows a great deal also in the analytic and general halakhic, Talmudic sphere. But he deals quite a lot with thought, with Maharal, and all kinds of things like that. He said: if he had studied in-depth analysis, he could have been one of the great rabbis of the generation. His father says he’s such a waste. Now, if he had studied analysis and all that, he would have been just one more out of a hundred thousand like him. And now that he deals with these topics, there are maybe two or three like that. At his level, I’m not even sure there are two or three. Right? But it’s a waste. That’s a Lithuanian outlook. The outlook that says uniqueness is a waste. There’s some song I’ve been looking for for years. I don’t know if anyone here knows it, but I can’t find it. I talked to Dan Almagor, I wrote to him—experts, nobody can tell me. There’s some song by a troupe, something like the Chizbatron or the Theater Club or something like that, that tells about Ahad Ha’am, Einstein, Spinoza, the whole gallery of the prominent figures in our history who are not from the beit midrash—what a waste.
[Speaker C] So no—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know, there’s some “no” there—it’s an ironic song. It’s a song that’s sung as though, look how these people wasted their lives on unnecessary things; they could have become a sexton in the synagogue.
[Speaker C] Yanik said about Rubachovitch that you could have quarried two Einsteins out of him.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. So that’s basically, by association, this whole idea. That’s also the claim of Rabbi Moshe Shapira’s father: that the things he contributed, which are his unique contribution, and in which nobody else deals the way he does—that’s a waste. He could go on making fine distinctions in Ketzot HaChoshen like all of us, and he would have been number one at that. Number one out of a hundred or a thousand such number ones, and millions besides. So here too, with Rabbi Gedaliah, when they try to bring him into the pantheon, they erase all the points he really contributed and really innovated, in order to leave him in the standard pantheon—because only standards get into the pantheon. And Rabbi Shilat, in this book, is trying a little to correct that. He’s trying to show the authentic Rabbi Gedaliah. But you can see that he too has that conservative recoil, as though he has to protect us from the terrible ideas we’re about to encounter.
[Speaker D] Except he’s not trying—this note isn’t about protecting from ideas, it’s protecting that someone who doesn’t accept it—he says if it doesn’t sit—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Well, if it doesn’t sit well with you, then don’t accept it. Fine. He’s worried that if for someone it—
[Speaker D] If it doesn’t sit well with him, then he’ll still accept it?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the concern is that if it doesn’t sit well with someone, then he’ll go curse Rabbi Gedaliah. So he tells him no. The concern is the opposite. The concern is that these ideas will sit well with him. That’s the concern. But after all, he grew up with a different Holy One, blessed be He, with a different Torah.
[Speaker C] Fortunate is he who believes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. So what, you’re destroying the kindergarten teacher’s whole educational system. So that can’t be. So stay with the kindergarten teacher, everything’s fine, because otherwise it might harm your tender soul. Again, the attitude is as though you’re supposed to adopt ideas according to what you’re used to, or what isn’t harmful, or all sorts of criteria whose relevance I’ve never managed to understand. I mean, what if it is harmful and I become a heretic? Fine, so I was convinced to become a heretic—what can I do? So I’m a heretic. What do you want now, that I should keep deceiving myself and say I still believe when in fact I’m a heretic? Such a strange outlook, I don’t know. Anyway, so that’s what he says: “He should hold on to the other views held in these matters by great and worthy figures.” “They too are great and worthy”—that’s of course an allusion to Raavad, right? Raavad, who says about Maimonides that Maimonides denounced those who held corporealist views, and Raavad says there that greater and better men than he held those views, and one should not think they are all heretics, and so on. “See the introduction of our teacher’s Guide for the Perplexed by Maimonides of blessed memory, who wrote: ‘He should not destroy and leap to respond to my words, for it may be that what he understood from my words is the opposite of what I intended, and he will harm me instead of benefiting from me, and repay evil for good. But let everyone into whose hands it comes reflect upon it. And if it heals the sickness of his heart even in one matter of all those things he doubts’”—if you have some doubt about something and this helps you—“the Lord knows, and that is enough for him from what he has understood.” So at least I gained that much. “And if he finds in it nothing beneficial to him in any way, let him regard it as though it had never been written.” Whoever studies the introduction of this book regarding the attitude of the leading rabbis of the generation—now these are Rabbi Shilat’s words—whoever studies the introduction of this book regarding the attitude of the leading rabbis of the generation toward the rabbi whose teaching is being reported, of blessed memory—that is, Rabbi Gedaliah—again, very Haredi in tone—“will know to be careful with his ember and not, Heaven forbid, be among those of whom it is said, ‘As for those who turn aside to their crooked ways, the Lord will lead them away with the workers of iniquity.’” Here is what Arik said earlier. Here he seems to fear the opposite fear: the fear that people will slander Rabbi Gedaliah as a heretic if they don’t accept his view. Meaning: look, all the great rabbis of the generation agreed that he was a great Jew and so on, so be careful with his ember. “And not, Heaven forbid, be among those who turn aside to their crooked ways; the Lord will lead them away with the workers of iniquity.” Then he adds: one should examine the wording, “The Lord will lead them away with the workers of iniquity,” and one may say that one who speaks ill after the death of Torah scholars presumably sees himself as righteous. Someone who criticizes Torah scholars over such matters apparently sees himself as righteous, imagining that his intentions are for the sake of Heaven, to save others, and so on. And on the day of judgment he certainly expects to go with the righteous and receive his reward. But the Holy One, blessed be He, will take him out of the line of the righteous and lead him with the workers of iniquity—and woe to that shame. Fine, that could have been written on a wall in Bnei Brak. In any case, that’s the introduction he gives. Let’s start seeing—the note Rabbi Shilat gives. Now let’s look at the introduction. The introduction is already Rabbi Gedaliah’s, yes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “The Torah is not a book of history, science, or philosophy. The Torah is a book with a moral purpose. From everything in the Torah one should learn a moral lesson. Nevertheless, when we find in the Torah stories of facts”—what lies behind this, after all, is that Genesis creates a lot of tension around science and interpretation and history and archaeology and the Big Bang and all those things. So the obvious defensive move is basically to turn everything into allegory. Everything is allegory, it’s not talking about facts, and that’s convenient in many ways. So he says: on the one hand, that’s true. The Torah is not a book of history, science, or philosophy; it didn’t come to teach us physics or history. The Torah is a book with a moral purpose. From everything in the Torah one should learn a moral lesson. Nevertheless, when we find in the Torah stories of facts, we must understand that the Torah is telling the truth. Meaning, you have to be careful not to overdo the allegorization of everything. In the end, when the Torah tells facts, you’re supposed to assume that this is something true. In a moment he’ll spell this out more, because it’s more complex than simply “literal.” Just as an aside: this point, that the Torah is not telling—meaning, it’s not a book of history and philosophy but comes to teach what one should do, a moral purpose—or I would define it as a religious purpose, not specifically moral—but the point is to instruct what one ought to do. In fact, that’s Rashi’s very first comment on the Torah, right? Where he says: Rabbi Yitzhak said, why did the Torah begin with “In the beginning” and not with “This month shall be for you the beginning of months”?
[Speaker E] But doesn’t Rashi say that it is not only Jewish law—what to do?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—first of all, the difficulty itself, that’s the point. You always have to ask: what is the difficulty? Why should the Torah have started with “This month shall be for you the beginning of months”? What’s wrong with the Book of Genesis? There’s some assumption here that the Torah comes to give us a collection of commandments, right? So what are all the stories doing there? Who needs that? Why did the Torah begin—just the fact that Rashi—what?
[Speaker B] Rashi’s second comment ends with the words, “of necessity the verse did not come to teach the order of earlier and later”—something like that. Okay.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In any case, the starting point with which Rashi opens his commentary on the Torah—at least in the question, I’m saying—is that indeed the purpose of the Torah is a normative purpose, not historical, not philosophy, not science, nothing like that—a normative purpose, a moral purpose. Even in the answer, when he says there, why nevertheless was it written? “He declared to His people the power of His works, to give them the inheritance of nations; if the nations of the world say to Israel, ‘You are robbers, for you conquered the lands of the seven nations,’” and so on, then we can answer them: “He declared to His people the power of His works, to give them the inheritance of nations.” Yes, He created the earth and gave it to whomever was upright in His eyes. So again, it sounds like some technical explanation. Basically, the Torah is really about the commandments. There’s some issue here because a large part of them are commandments dependent on the Land; if we don’t live in the Land, how will we observe those commandments? But if the nations come to us with claims, there is concern that we won’t hold on to the Land, so they give us protective gear—means of defense—to protect our hold on the Land. But that’s a technical matter. Basically it really is superfluous. In principle this wasn’t supposed to be part of the Torah. That’s basically what is written there in Rashi. It seems to me—I once said—that on the face of it, this is a bit difficult, because he asks a question about roughly a quarter of a book, right? Up until the portion of Bo, “This month shall be for you the beginning of months.” He answers about the first two chapters of Genesis, the story of creation. Why is all the rest necessary? After all, he asked why it didn’t start from the portion of Bo, and what he explained is why chapters 1 and 2 of Genesis are necessary. I think the continuation is also hinted in Rashi.
[Speaker F] No, really, for the answer, wouldn’t only the first verse have been enough?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, fine, the rest is just detail of the first verse. But the continuation, it seems to me, is hinted in Rashi too, because Rashi writes there that the Holy One created the earth and gave it to whomever was upright in His eyes. The word “upright” is not accidental. “The Book of the Upright” is the Book of Genesis. “The Book of the Upright”—that is how they expound it. What does that mean? The Netziv writes this in his introduction and elsewhere: that it teaches how to conduct oneself uprightly—Jacob our forefather, yes?—how one conducts oneself uprightly in the world; that’s the principle. And basically what this means is that yes, this is indeed an answer for the whole book, not just for the first chapter of Genesis. Because after the Holy One created the world, true, He has the right to give it to whomever He wants—but He didn’t give it just because He felt like it; He gave it to the one upright in His eyes. Now you have to explain who is upright in His eyes. For that you need to describe the patriarchs, you need to show that Israel are descendants of the patriarchs, and that the Holy One gave the Torah to Israel. So the whole development of the Book of Genesis is really a continuation of that same point. All of that is needed in order to answer the nations.
[Speaker G] But still, even the ontology itself of “to whomever was upright in His eyes”—He gave it to Abraham in the covenant between the pieces, He gave it to Isaac, He gave it to Jacob—not necessarily because they were upright, maybe. He—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Gave it—
[Speaker G] The promise runs through the whole book.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, but still—that explains maybe a few more chapters or a few more paragraphs in the book, but there’s a long-term process there—
[Speaker G] Going down to Egypt, He told them they would return after four hundred years.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, true. But I’m saying still, the whole course of events—Judah, this, that, the whole story—it seems to me it all comes to show the “upright in His eyes.” That, it seems to me, is what Rashi is saying. In any case, that’s just in parentheses. For our purposes, I’m just saying that there in Rashi you really do see Rabbi Gedaliah’s starting point: that the book is not a history book but a book with a moral purpose—or a religious purpose, doesn’t matter—practical instruction. “Torah” from the language of instruction, yes? The term Torah means instruction—giving practical directives, Jewish law in practice. So that’s one side. But on the other hand, as he says, you shouldn’t take that too far. If there are descriptions of facts, they’re supposed to be true. It’s not supposed to be something untrue.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “A true story about events that happened and people who existed impresses a person far more than legendary tales that never were and were never created. For example, the deeds of great and righteous patriarchs serve as a sign for the children, and their moral influence is stronger when they are known as real facts. The more closely one knows the heroes of the stories and the facts, the stronger the moral impression.” This is interesting—it’s really current events. Just now, on the radio on the way here, I heard them interviewing some doctor of Holocaust studies—a ‘shoah-ologist,’ as my father used to call it—about the difference between meeting a survivor and seeing a film, even with that same survivor, or I don’t know, a film about the events. There’s something much stronger in meeting someone who speaks about deeds that happened to him personally. It’s some kind of unmediated encounter, much stronger. A film—we’re always used to films that are fiction. We know, okay, this is a documentary film, but still, in the background there’s always the sense that, well, there’s an editor, and we’re already very aware of all the tools of the genre. And when you meet someone who tells you—this isn’t a literary creation, he’s just telling you in prose what happened to him—then it’s a far stronger encounter. It reminds me: there’s a responsum of Rashba, one of Rashba’s well-known responsa in his responsa collection, about the ban. Yedaya HaPenini, who was a disciple of the author of Hashlamah, stood at the head of some allegorist school that interpreted the Torah allegorically, and Rashba issued a ban on the study of philosophy because of the thoughts or actions of that group. To be precise, it was a ban on studying philosophy before age twenty-five—people usually don’t remember that. Meaning, Rashba didn’t take it all the way. First fill your belly with Talmud and decisors, and afterward you can study. In any case, Rashba’s attack on allegorical interpretation always puzzled me. Because suppose I really do interpret it allegorically—so what? What’s the problem? As long as in the end I’m committed to Torah and commandments, what difference does it make whether Abraham really chased after the kings or whether it was just in a dream, or met angels, or whether that was only in a dream? Why is that important? What difference does it make? And if it’s an educational myth, what’s bad about that? What’s the problem? The Torah uses the means of educational myth—why does that disturb Rashba so much? So the explanation usually brought in this context is this explanation: that things that really happened have a much stronger effect on a person than things that are myths. But I never understood even that, because suppose they have a stronger effect—so what? Does that mean it really happened? That’s a psychological fact, that things that really happened have a stronger effect—fine. But now I have a historical question: did it happen or not? So the fact that what happened has a stronger impact means that it really happened? Fine, so what can you do—then the impact will be weaker. The question whether it happened or not is a factual question. One has to decide either it happened, or Abraham and Sarah are matter and form, or Abraham and Sarah are historical figures. That was the argument.
[Speaker B] And there’s also a huge pulse of stories circulating out there, with the people or without them—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If Yedaya HaPenini claims that it didn’t happen, that Abraham and Sarah are matter and form, it’s allegory—there was no Abraham and Sarah, let’s say, I’m taking it to the extreme now. Okay, that’s what he thinks. Now what does Rashba claim against him? Rashba says: listen, you became historically convinced that Abraham and Sarah didn’t exist, but that’s terribly harmful. So you have to give that up. You have to say that Abraham and Sarah did exist. That really is a slippery slope. What does “slippery slope” mean?
[Speaker H] Later you’ll also say, fine, the commandments too aren’t really exactly what they want you to do; the intention is that you take from this—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I understand the dangers. I don’t need explanations of the dangers.
[Speaker H] And I think that’s what Rashba wants, that—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But I’m asking a question: so what if there’s a danger? Again I go back to the same question, like with the warning of Rabbi Shilat. Is that what Rashba says? I understand. But I’m asking: so what? Does the fact that something is dangerous mean that it isn’t true? Suppose I reached the conclusion that Abraham and Sarah did not exist. There’s a terrible slippery slope; tomorrow morning he’ll become a complete heretic. Fine. So now because of that Abraham and Sarah did exist? If I reached the conclusion that they didn’t exist, then they didn’t exist. It’s a factual question. So what, I’m supposed to give that up because it’s dangerous?
[Speaker H] No, he’s also explaining why he imposes a ban, because he’s afraid that if we don’t take—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I understand why you impose a ban, because it’s dangerous. I’m only asking: what do you want from Yedaya HaPenini? What do you want now—that because they banned him, suddenly “No, no, of course not! Abraham and Sarah certainly existed! I found an Abraham our forefather stele in the Land of Canaan.”
[Speaker H] Not for him—for the public.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but the public is the same. I’m asking: if the public is convinced by Yedaya HaPenini, then what—then the public will say it.
[Speaker H] You don’t want it even to reach the level of discussion at all.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying, again, I don’t need explanations of the tactic. I understand the tactic. I understand it. I’m just saying that when I see something like that, I’m offended. What do you mean? I’m supposed to determine what’s true and what isn’t according to whether it’s dangerous? Same question I asked earlier. I determine whether things are true or false according to considerations. Maybe I’m in doubt? Fine, then I’m in doubt. But even if I’m in doubt, I’m not willing to assume that it happened just because it’s dangerous to assume that it didn’t happen. If I’m in doubt, then I’m in doubt. I don’t know. The fact that it’s dangerous—okay, so I’ll take a pill, I’ll defend myself, I don’t know what I’ll do.
[Speaker I] So that’s the pill.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The ban is the pill. Yes, but you’re joking—
[Speaker I] It’s funny to me, the pill.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Rashba is convinced that it happened, okay? Completely convinced.
[Speaker I] So if he bans me, am I really going to do something? I’d ignore it with a whistle… That’s the pill the rabbi is talking about. He should have given him a pill like that so he’d understand he was wrong.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But if I were in his place, I wouldn’t understand at all that I was wrong.
[Speaker I] Why? You wouldn’t understand in his place? Of course not.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If they put me under a ban, I’d go to the land of excommunication. What can I do?
[Speaker I] Human nature. But what does that explain? But Rabbi, you yourself even said that regarding the sociological belonging of Haredim—you once told about those guys from, I don’t know, who came to that squad commanders’ course or something like that. About the—yes, the Haredi Nahal. In the end they get married and are absorbed back into their community.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Again, I don’t need explanations of the practice. But I’m saying that this pill he gives them keeps them inside the framework, and then he’ll grow up a bit—this Penini fellow will grow up a bit—and then he’ll realize, pop, it really isn’t true, I was thinking wrongly.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying: all that I understand. I simply despise anyone on whom it works. That’s all. I understand—it works. It works on most of the world, and I understand what it does. And still I despise anyone on whom it works. That’s all. Because if that’s what you think, then that’s what you think. What can I do?
[Speaker G] He’s twenty-five and still hasn’t reached maturity.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine. Even at age two it wouldn’t have affected me. You’ll either convince me that it happened or that it didn’t happen, or you’ll tell me: you’re a two-year-old child, you don’t understand anything yet, wait until age twenty-five. That’s what he told him.
[Speaker I] He said to him, you’re two years old. He was no longer two years old, he…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He was past 25 when he received it. This wasn’t a two-year-old child, and he was also a Jew who was apparently an intelligent, educated Jew; he wasn’t a child. I’m saying, in short, we encounter these things every day. It’s not that we see this all the time and then someone explains to me, look what a terribly dangerous view this is. What do you mean, a dangerous view? Is it a correct view or an incorrect one? That’s the question. When I say “a view,” you have to judge it in terms of whether it’s true or false. Whether it’s dangerous or not—that’s an excellent question. You have to think how to defend against it. It’s like we once talked, I think, about Rabin’s murder, right? So they always said, look how dangerous it is to be a person with religious faith, certainly fanatical religious faith like that. He can end up committing murder. So what do you want—because of that I shouldn’t believe? If I believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, then I believe in the Holy One, blessed be He. If it’s dangerous because one can murder because of it, okay, then we have to think how to deal with the dangers. So what do you want me to do now? To adopt beliefs I don’t believe in because it’s dangerous to believe what I do believe? It’s so—I know this works on people now. People are constantly discussing things in terms of whether they are dangerous or not dangerous, but it makes me laugh.
[Speaker B] Rabbi once quoted Voltaire, who said: I don’t believe in God, but don’t tell my servants that, because then they’ll murder me.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, no, that’s Roman, not Voltaire. It was some Roman, I think; it’s a story about a Roman. I think Cicero brings it, or someone like that.
[Speaker D] But why can’t the Rabbi accept a situation where someone says, okay, I’ve arrived at some view, it’s true, but it’s dangerous, and therefore it’s better to keep quiet?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, to keep quiet and not say it—that’s fine. But you’re trying, again I’m saying—but if you’re trying to persuade me not to believe it because it’s…
[Speaker H] You’ll go—what can be done to make him stop believing?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not—no problem. But if he had said that to me, it wouldn’t have done anything. Meaning, so I’m saying, maybe there’s some logic in saying that, because there are many—I’m not sure, could be—that there are many people who really are influenced by this, and then maybe it makes sense to manipulate them, such idiots who are influenced by that, so maybe they really deserve to be fed all kinds of things like that. I just despise that attitude, toward those who are influenced by it. In short, I despise humanity.
[Speaker C] The manipulation—that people use this kind of manipulation in order to influence?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, what I’m saying is, here one can argue: if there are many fools, then listen, stop them by foolish means because there’s no choice. It’s this attitude toward the masses, as something that—you know—you can’t treat seriously. So sometimes it’s true that you can’t; here we see that you can’t treat them seriously. The fact is, this thing works on them. It’s like the Vilna Gaon’s argument, which the Alter of Novardok, I think, brought in the name of the Vilna Gaon, if I remember correctly. He says that Maimonides writes that whoever fears he won’t succeed in avoiding evil speech should flee to the deserts. Meaning, look—even a great Jew like Maimonides, where there’s no such concern—if he fears he may come to speak evil speech, he has to flee to the deserts, so someone like us certainly has to flee to the deserts. An argument of that type. Okay. So I’m saying, once our counselor in Bnei Akiva—a classic Bnei Akiva activity—asked, he brought the story of the mother and her seven sons. There is one source where she’s called Hannah, but usually it’s anonymous. And when the seventh son is about to die, she goes up on the roof there and says: My son, when you go up to heaven, go to Abraham our forefather and tell him: you bound one son, and I bound seven sons. You were a trial, and I am the deed. Meaning, in your case in the end he didn’t die, and in my case all seven died. And that’s more or less where the midrash ends. So he asked: well really, what’s the answer? Why should there be…
[Speaker D] An answer? Why is that not correct?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, why is Abraham our forefather our founding myth and not Hannah and her seven sons? She was greater than he was. So then we should pray to the Holy One, blessed be He, in the merit of Hannah and her seven sons—why in the merit of Abraham and the Binding? And the answer, the classic answer, a kind of Bnei Akiva answer, is that Abraham our forefather brought that power into the world. Meaning, the fact that she succeeded in doing this great thing was thanks to the path that Abraham our forefather opened up, even if perhaps he opened it on a smaller scale. But that means—it’s true because he was first, but not just first chronologically, rather… And there is a certain measure of justice in that outlook. Meaning, there is someone here who paved this road, and now people already understand that this is what must be done and are prepared to pay prices, but someone had to break open that path. It could be that even Abraham our forefather’s faith was perhaps not perfect, but he introduced monotheism. Meaning, there is something here much stronger than someone who may have been a greater monotheistic thinker than Abraham our forefather, but still came after Abraham our forefather—like a dwarf standing on the shoulders of a giant, right? Or things of that sort. And once I thought that maybe what stands behind these things is not only the psychological matter—and here this connects to Rashba and everything we talked about earlier. This idea that after I heard about Abraham our forefather and what he did, it influenced me and I found the strengths within myself, and therefore I too can do it, and perhaps even greater things. It may be that there is really something metaphysical here. Forgive the slide into mystical territory. But it may be that when a person performs some act—this idea is accepted in the world of Jewish thought, I think—that after someone does an act in the world, it is not just because I heard about it and it influences me and therefore I succeed better in doing it, but there is some metaphysical influence even if I never heard about it. Meaning, he brought this thing into the world, these motivations, this power, this phenomenon. And therefore, in essence, the point—and this is what really lies behind what he writes here and Rashba’s ban and everything—the claim that the very fact that the thing influences, that the thing is meaningful, that we all feel it obligates us, is itself the proof that it really happened. Do you understand? So that really is a relevant argument, if that’s the case. Because the person says: look, if you understand that this obligates, that it’s something significant, that it educates—that if it educates, then it probably happened. That’s the argument, what Rashba says. It’s not—it’s not—it’s not a tactical consideration. Meaning, look, it’s dangerous.
[Speaker F] What’s the point—why do you need to impose a ban? What?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If that were the whole point, why impose a ban? No, that’s the argument. Why impose a ban? Because of the dangers. But that’s what we discussed before. But behind the words there sits an argument.
[Speaker D] But in what way is that better than any other argument? I mean, why is it better than the simplest argument, namely that since it’s written in the Torah, presumably the intention is what is written?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What’s written in the Torah, Yedaiah would also agree with,
[Speaker H] But he claims it’s allegorical. What’s written in the Torah, for him, is written as allegory or as an additional kind of text.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Most likely…
[Speaker D] …that it’s written there, so why say why?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, so apparently that argument isn’t strong enough for him.
[Speaker D] No, what the Rabbi is saying is perhaps an even bigger, more distant claim than the plain meaning.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The plain meaning is the tradition: this thing, what’s written in the Torah, and that’s it. What the Rabbi is saying is already—fine—but he thinks not. What’s the problem? And he thinks not even that? What? Not even that, so he thinks not? No, maybe he’ll think yes after he hears the argument. But where does this argument appear? Does Rashba write this argument? No, Rashba writes that the fact that this thing obligates us is because it happened. So I only want to claim that it’s not because there is psychological influence, but because there is something here whereby we find within ourselves this sense of obligation that was built by those events that occurred. As a result, I once wrote an article about this; it connected for me to arguments that were very topical at the time. Today they’ve somehow been swallowed up in the cloud of forgetfulness. All the post-Zionism and the breaking of the sacred cows, yes, the euthanizing of the sacred cows, the slaughtering of the sacred cows. About Trumpeldor, who cursed in Russian and didn’t say, “It is good to die for our country,” and all these myths that were shattered. The so-called new historians greatly enjoyed smashing them. And I too stood before that phenomenon in wonder, because what exactly was the argument? The Zionists said that Trumpeldor truly existed. Trumpeldor truly existed, and that saying, “It is good to die for our country,” really happened. And the post-Zionists or the new historians said, what do you mean, it’s a myth, he cursed in Russian. Why is it interesting whether that happened or not? Exactly the same question. Why is it interesting whether that happened or not? After all, by now it is already an educational myth. For my part let it be a parable—I want to educate people through this myth, so why do I care whether it happened or not? But what is fascinating here is that you almost never heard that claim. Later it came up a little more. Both sides in this argument, both sides in this argument, assume something they both agree on: that if it happened, it obligates, and if it didn’t happen, it doesn’t obligate. Meaning, when we now argue about whether to educate this way, the foundation of the matter is the question whether it happened. And now there’s a dispute—okay, these say yes it happened, those say no it didn’t—but both agree that it matters terribly whether it happened or not. And I asked, as always when I see an argument I usually disagree with both sides, I asked: why? Why does it matter, really? So if it’s an educational myth, and I’m an enthusiastic Zionist and “it is good to die for our country,” but Trumpeldor didn’t say it, he cursed in Russian—what’s the problem? Can’t I say it? I created a myth. It helps me transmit the message to the youth. What’s the problem?
[Speaker G] But then that’s you saying it and not Trumpeldor.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, true. And what, is Trumpeldor Moses? Fine, so he said it, he didn’t say it—I’m saying, what’s the problem?
[Speaker B] There are lots of myths, it all functions on myths.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If he cursed in Russian, then there is no Trumpeldor—you need to understand—even Trumpeldor is a myth.
[Speaker B] There’s a correlation here between political-social anecdotes and history and the way you see historical facts.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s why I say it’s the same phenomenon we’re meeting here. That’s why I say, it seems to us like some question of biblical interpretation, some kind of fourteenth-century question in Spain with Yedaiah HaPenini and Rashba. Yes, but understand, this continues until today. To this day every worldview that has factual events at its foundation argues about what happened and what did not happen. And this is terribly important in the eyes of the people who are fighting, that’s simply a fact. So it seems to me that what this says—I’m only reinforcing what I said before—somehow intuitively both sides feel that the fact of whether it happened or not is very relevant to the question of whether it obligates, whether it is right to live this way or educate this way or think this way. Which on second thought is very surprising, as if—but people have such an intuition. It’s the same intuition as Rashba’s, and it’s the same intuition he is speaking about here: that somehow if it happened, it’s stronger. But not as a psychological claim that if it happened it’s stronger. Fine, if it’s a psychological claim then it’s uninteresting, because it’s not an argument in favor of its having happened, but rather as a philosophical claim. Meaning, if you really believe in the Zionist myth, then apparently Trumpeldor really said it, because he planted it in history, just as Abraham our forefather planted in history the willingness, yes, to pay heavy prices for his beliefs.
[Speaker D] So then is it only Trumpeldor who says it? I mean, suppose that if you believe in the Zionist myth that obligates that it really…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “Obligates” is too strong, but encourages, yes.
[Speaker D] Not obligates—evidence that someone said it. But surely it’s obvious there were people who were great Zionists and held that way.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He came to smash all the sacred cows, one by one. You know, the killing of a herd of cows always starts with one. Meaning, you have to kill them one at a time. Though the Nazis sometimes had more sophisticated methods, but fine. They smash him and want to smash all the rest as well. Is this a local argument only about Trumpeldor? Never. This phenomenon wouldn’t be a phenomenon otherwise. Meaning, these are myths.
[Speaker E] It wasn’t. You have a myth that is foundational, and then suddenly—a foundational myth—come, let’s destroy it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, and therefore the rest will also collapse. But I’m saying, again, I don’t want to get into that particular argument. I’m coming to illustrate a point. The point I’m trying to illustrate is that this connection between historical facts…
[Speaker F] …and…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] …their normative meanings for us, with regard to us today, is something that appears in many contexts, not only in biblical interpretations and disputes about religious tradition and so on—where it’s very easy to scoff and roll your eyes and so forth. It appears wherever there are things that matter to people.
[Speaker F] It seems to me it’s just because it’s more pleasant to think that it was someone…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, but “it’s more pleasant to think so” is not exactly a historical argument.
[Speaker F] It influences people.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The question is why the same academia, who write a scholarly article on the subject of whether Trumpeldor existed or not, and provide an ideological introduction about Zionism and so on, saying they are Zionists and against post-Zionism and all the rest—I hope there is also some thought behind that and not merely an expression of their primitive emotions.
[Speaker G] That’s exactly the core of faith. Whether you’re a Zionist or a Jew. For example, Kuzari says: how do we know about the revelation at Mount Sinai? Because a father transmitted it to a son who transmitted it to a son who transmitted… Now, once it enters my father’s mind to say, listen, it’s a myth—maybe I wouldn’t believe? Same with Zionism. Someone who defines himself as a Zionist—why am I a Zionist? Because everything I was told about the past is history. Now if they tell me that Trumpeldor didn’t say it and Herzl didn’t say it, then maybe I’m not a Zionist?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, that’s not the same thing. No, it’s not the same thing even within the religious world itself, not just in comparison to Trumpeldor, because you have to distinguish between several things. A friend of mine, Rabbi Amit Kula, from Kibbutz Alumim—right, exactly—published a book called “Did It Happen or Not?” It’s a book meant to neutralize the need to rely on history as a foundation for faith. Meaning, you can be a believing Jew without believing any factual thing about the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh). That is the goal of the book. To neutralize everything. And it’s always all wrapped in lots of apologies and so on, in the style of Rabbi Sheilat, but that is the goal of the book. And I told him that I quite like the idea, I tend toward that idea, but it seems to me that with the revelation at Mount Sinai, there I would stop. Meaning, there is a difference between saying Abraham our forefather was a myth—fine, so he was a myth, that really doesn’t matter—but if the revelation at Mount Sinai did not happen, if that too is a myth, then what? Then who invented these commandments and why do I have to keep them?
[Speaker H] That’s the difference between a moral principle and a halakhic command, what we discussed. Morality—you can say, I see it. But Jewish law—did someone command it or not?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. And therefore there still is… so that’s why I say, when you bring in the revelation at Mount Sinai, clearly it has an entirely different status. Everything I said before is simply irrelevant to the revelation at Mount Sinai. If there was no revelation at Mount Sinai, then it is certainly reasonable that there is no reason to observe any of this. He argued no, it doesn’t matter, but it sounds very reasonable to me that there is… But that’s not the same thing as Abraham our forefather, or if there was no struggle against the four kings.
[Speaker G] But look what you said earlier. Earlier you talked about the Book of Genesis—why is the Book of Genesis important? So that we know we are the people of Israel and the Holy One, blessed be He, gave it because our forefathers were upright. And once you say it’s a myth, then I don’t care at all who the forefathers are.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, truly it doesn’t matter who the forefathers are. Why does it matter? But I’ll live in the Land of Israel and keep commandments. Why do I care who the forefathers are? That’s exactly the point. If the goal is the commandments—and that is the goal, as Rashi assumes there in his first comment—then what’s the problem? Right, I’m not interested in the forefathers. Why should they interest me if they didn’t exist? Why should I care about them? They didn’t exist; it’s a myth. So what’s the problem? You assume they existed, and then you say that if I present it as a myth then it won’t interest me. But if it’s a myth, then they didn’t exist.
[Speaker E] It harms your religious commitment.
[Speaker J] But if the forefathers…
[Speaker E] …didn’t exist, then you have a disconnect with Mount…
[Speaker J] …Sinai, and it also harms the proof of the event of the revelation at Mount Sinai, because it’s a chain, a historical unfolding. I don’t see… Abraham our forefather and onward. It’s not as if a revelation suddenly came into being out of nowhere.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why not? The Holy One, blessed be He, took the Jewish people out of Egypt, brought them to Mount Sinai, gave them Torah. Who is the Jewish people? Some Egyptian tribe, I don’t know what, I don’t know from where. Habiru or I don’t know, all kinds of theories. No, Habiru is Amalek, I think—never mind. Something.
[Speaker E] No, Habiru is—Habiru is—Habiru is actually…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] …the claim that they are the Hebrews, yes.
[Speaker K] Very important links.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, I don’t know, never mind, the principle.
[Speaker K] For me personally it isn’t important to believe that Torah is from Heaven—why should I care in what ceremony it was given? Yes, exactly. No, that it was given—you do need to know that it was given.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not the pyrotechnics—the pyrotechnics aren’t what matter, only whether there was an encounter in which commandments were given to us. That’s all. What exactly happened there? How did it happen? Not interesting. Why would that matter? The pyrotechnics are not important. Just to believe that Torah is from Heaven—it doesn’t matter which myth. Exactly. That’s what I meant; I didn’t mean the details of the event there at Mount Sinai. Yes, obviously.
[Speaker E] No, there is a difference if it was given—if the faith derives from your saying that a certain person received it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, only in the sense that it convinces me more that it was really given. But I’m saying, once I’ve reached the conclusion that it really was given, that’s what I need. How do I reach that? Everyone by his own path. So I’m saying, the status of the question—for Christians this works very well.
[Speaker H] What? For Christians this works very well even if it was one person.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, true, but…
[Speaker E] Among Christians there isn’t—among Christians there isn’t transmission there; they don’t give commandments.
[Speaker H] No,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There is a transmission of the cancellation of the commandments. That too is a transmission. So I’m saying, what I only want to say is that the factual dispute over the revelation at Mount Sinai is not part of this game; that’s another field. The factual dispute over Abraham our forefather, over such-and-such events, or even over the very existence of Abraham our forefather—come on, I think it is similar to Trumpeldor in that sense. Meaning, in today’s postmodern view certainly, what’s the problem? Why do post-historians, the new historians, also have to be post-Zionists? It always goes together; they’re almost synonyms. Why? You can be a new historian who denies everything we were taught about Trumpeldor, and it’s all myths and nothing happened and none of it ever existed, and still be an enthusiastic Zionist. What does that have to do with it? Why do I need Trumpeldor? You see, there is some kind of intuition here. However we explain it, I don’t know, but the intuition of both sides in this argument is that they both agree there is relevance to the question of what really happened there. That is exactly the intuition underlying Rashba’s ban, and that is exactly what lies behind what he writes here. Namely, that practical stories, factual stories that really happened, have some kind of greater impact, and that is an argument in favor of their really having happened. Why is that an argument in favor of their really having happened? So maybe it really shouldn’t affect us so much; rather, there is apparently some assumption here: the fact is, this has held up for several thousand years and people really do feel obligated by this matter—that itself is an argument in favor of the fact, in favor of the claim, that it happened. Fine, now…
[Speaker I] One can…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] …accept that, one can reject that, I don’t know, but there is such an intuition.
[Speaker I] Why, for example, was Job real or not real?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s his next sentence. It’s about Job.
[Speaker I] If Job was real—if the claim is correct—it could be that because it is true and it is a real and correct idea, that’s what will sustain it in the world.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s not one or zero. Clearly, ideas transmitted through myth can also endure. And clearly, ideas that really happened—some of them also won’t endure. But generally speaking, I’m saying, especially when the whole framework is like that—if the whole framework is fictional or mythical, then it’s weaker. That’s the claim, basically. Now details—that’s what he says, that’s the next sentence—details, Job or things like that, fine, they can enter the table.
[Speaker I] I’m saying, if an idea is true and correct, then even if someone conceived it, it really doesn’t matter whether he said it or didn’t say it—it will remain in the world.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That was the starting point from which I set out. That’s why I said I don’t understand Rashba—what do you want? If it’s true, it’s true; if it’s false, it’s false. If I think Abraham and Sarah never existed, then they never existed. So what difference does it make now? And how is this argument relevant—that it’s dangerous? That was the starting point.
[Speaker E] Job is really even farther removed than if we look at the order of Mount Sinai, Abraham and Sarah, and Job.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And Job is off to the side altogether, obviously. It has no theological importance in that sense.
[Speaker E] Yes, right, obviously.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s an idea meant to present an idea.
[Speaker E] It has theological…
[Speaker F] …significance.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He says it does not—no, theological significance in the sense of “the righteous suffers,” theological questions—yes, it has that. In the sense of our tradition, how the Jewish people came into being, why the Torah obligates us—in that sense it is not part of that chain.
[Speaker I] By the way, there’s a question from someone who wrote to Maimonides asking whether the messiah has arrived or not; I don’t remember where I read it there. And he writes back, why do you care at all? Meaning, if you do what is right and live the truth, what will it add to you and what will it take away from you?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Otherwise you could say that David…
[Speaker F] …did not rise from his sins, and with Job it’s harder to say.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine. So he says as follows: “Moreover, even if there can be a literary creation by way of something that never actually existed but was only a parable,” in parentheses, “Job according to one opinion in Bava Batra 15”—that is, when the thing did not happen and they wanted to convey a certain moral lesson by way of a parable. “But the events of creation certainly occurred in some manner, and there is no sense at all in saying that the Torah changed the truth and told false things in order to teach us some moral lesson.” This is a very interesting argument, by the way. Meaning, he says as follows: the claim is that when a description is given to you of this and that happened—so-and-so went and did this and did that—apparently that’s how it happened. But that’s also true of Job. “There was a man in the land of Uz,” and so on; it all sounds like a historical description. This argument is also true with regard to Job, and the fact is that the Sages, at least according to one opinion, say that Job never existed but was only a parable.
[Speaker F] So he says that this opinion is rejected, after all here he…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t remember what the Talmudic conclusion there is. Fine, never mind, but in the end there is such an opinion. So I simply don’t remember; I’m quoting cautiously. In any case, his claim has a kind of twist. He says: after all, the world was created somehow, right? Somehow the world was created. Today we certainly know that. Once people thought there was an option that the world was eternal. No, just a second—but the world certainly was created. No, this speaks about everything, because in the end we too somehow came into being, the Jewish people. The Jewish people also originated from somewhere. Meaning, all this somehow happened; I just don’t know how. Now the Torah describes a chain of the world’s creation, the formation of the Jewish people, and all these things, and these are events that really happened in some form. Now when you combine those two, then here to say it’s a parable—for what? You take something that really happened, describe it falsely in order to convey a message by way of a parable? If it really happened, then describe what happened.
[Speaker H] No, but if it’s boring it won’t teach me anything.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, that’s a further step.
[Speaker K] But it relates to me—you invent here something that relates to you, that one day a week should be a day of rest, which in the end was a huge innovation in that world, and you present it as God created—make up—God created like this, but you invent it, that’s much stronger.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I agree, but I’m saying his claim is that, let’s say, you need a much better reason—or there is less chance, or it is less likely that this interpretation is reasonable—when you are talking about events that in any case really happened and the Torah presents some description of them, to say of that that it is a parable is strange. With Job it may be that it never existed at all; they invented a parable and wanted to convey to us that lesson, that message, or teach us something. There is no principled problem with that. That is much easier to accept than a description of events that clearly happened, where you actually want to tell me that the Torah describes them not as they were, that it lies—and “lies” already has a certain connotation, never mind—that it says it incorrectly only in order to, I don’t know, convey some message. You want to convey a message? Invent something else. Don’t tell me this story about history that really happened and then describe it falsely. Invent for me “There was a man in the land of Uz,” or whatever, “Moishe Yankel was his name, and every seven days he kept the Sabbath, and therefore we all need to keep the Sabbath.” But don’t tell me this about the Holy One, blessed be He, and how He created the world, if in any event He did create the world in some fashion and you’re telling me a false story about it.
[Speaker H] You’re getting yourself into trouble because they can find your mistake. Huh? You’re getting yourself into trouble because they can find your mistake.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s even worse, yes. But I’m saying beyond that, he says this is already really closer to a lie. Meaning, you’re basically saying—it’s not just a parable. A parable is when you invent a story. Now I come to you and tell you what happened yesterday morning with my son, when in any case something was there, I don’t know exactly what, and I’ll tell you how it was. And none of that ever happened; it’s all only in order to tell you a lesson. That’s a lie. Meaning, if I invent a child who never existed and I tell you that such-and-such happened with him and he did such-and-such, fine, then I’m telling a parable, through which I convey a lesson or a message. But when you describe things that happened not in the way they happened but in another way because you have goals of conveying a lesson—that’s already a lie. So there is an interesting argument here that this is different from Job. Huh?
[Speaker L] Based on a true story.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, based on a true story—which today we already accept in everything, yes. Based on a true story.
[Speaker M] Ah, but surely creation in seven days is not a true story. Huh? Creation in seven days.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, we’ll now have to see what he says. We’re learning him in order; we’ll see what he says, he’ll get to it. We’re dealing with the Book of Genesis, so all this is introduction to what he’ll say there. “And certainly there is what to learn from the facts of God’s acts as they were. And also, the recognition of truth in itself is a moral value.” This sentence here I didn’t quite understand—the recognition of truth is a moral value. Telling the truth is a moral value; recognizing the truth is an intellectual value, factual, I don’t know, but why moral? What does it have to do with morality? I don’t know.
[Speaker D] Well, moral in the sense of anything that is proper recognition or important.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but that’s not morality. It’s important to know the truth. Fine, okay. The striving to know the truth. Huh? The striving to know the truth. No, I’m not speaking about the striving; I’m speaking about the Torah when it tells us the story. So I’m saying, the recognition of truth is a moral value. Why? What? I don’t know. Fine. So apparently he meant to say: the recognition of truth also has value. Value is always moral—to know exactly what happened. Yes, yes. “However”—this is section b—“however, in the narrative mode of the Torah one must distinguish between things in their plain sense and things not in their plain sense. The Torah and the books of prophecy are full of parables. Thus Maimonides teaches us in the introduction to the Guide. One must pay special attention to this especially in matters of creation, which are deep and hidden matters. Not only in Scripture, but also in the words of the Sages in aggadic literature there are many things that are by way of parable and rhetorical flourish.” This is Maimonides’ introduction, where he writes that there are three groups among those who interpret the aggadic teachings of the Sages. There is the group of fools who think that all these aggadot are to be taken literally. Yes, Rabbah bar bar Hannah and all those things—they explain them literally. It’s known in the name of the Brisker Rabbi, it is said in his name, that if the Sages say the messiah will come on a white donkey, then he will come on a white donkey, period. And that is Maimonides’ group of fools.
[Speaker K] No, that they sprouted from a beard hair?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That I don’t know if he said. But the idea is: don’t make it into a parable or anything—what’s written is what will be. A statement of that sort. So that is the group of fools. The second group—pardon me, with all due respect to the Brisker Rabbi—the second group is the group of the wicked.
[Speaker E] Since it’s between the Brisker Rabbi and Maimonides, what, you’re not taking sides in this? It’s between Maimonides and the Brisker Rabbi.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, yes. I was just connecting them, right.
[Speaker H] But it’s interesting to decide when something is a parable and when it isn’t, even according to Maimonides.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but I think the Brisker Rabbi wanted to say that there’s no such thing there—what is written happened, that’s what happened.
[Speaker H] But he could have brought something much more bizarre. There are far more bizarre parables than a white donkey. There are all kinds of strange natural phenomena.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, on the other hand, precisely because of that we said—if he comes in a gray Mercedes, would that bother you? What’s the problem? Like HaGashash HaHiver say, yes—where’s the road to Ayalon? Do you know their skit where the messiah arrives and asks how to get to Ayalon from here? So that is the first group. The second group is the group of the wicked, who since these stories, these aggadot, are implausible, they mock them and say it’s all nonsense—so the Sages are idiots, as it were—that’s the group of the wicked. And the group of the wise is the group that understands that very often the Sages use parables in order to convey messages, and one should not relate to them as factual description. Okay? So he too is basically talking about this matter. “In truth, in every verbal expression the words cannot say everything. That is impossible. There are always certain assumptions required regarding the context of the words. Words in themselves can bear many meanings and even a thing and its opposite, such as according to the tone of the words. For the same sentence can be said calmly and can be said as a question, and the meaning will be the opposite. Indeed, when you say a sentence sarcastically, you are actually saying the opposite of what you really mean. Now go figure from something written whether it was said sarcastically or not. Nevertheless, there is an understanding that we call the plain meaning of the words, and an understanding in which the words are by way of parable and rhetorical flourish.” What is he trying to say? Beyond parable and rhetorical flourish, here he added—in the previous paragraph, the previous sentence—beyond the fact that things can be parable and rhetorical flourish, there are things interpreted non-literally not because they are parable, but because the mode of expression uses metaphors, uses more complex or more sophisticated expressions that still convey things in their straightforward meaning. It’s not a parable, but it conveys them in a non-linear way, yes, not a simple translation of the words. And therefore it is actually quite hard to define, even sharply distinguish, between parable and non-parable, because even things that are not parable do not always have the simple literal meaning of the words. Meaning, language is in any case a much more complex phenomenon. It’s not just either parable or not parable. So he says: and still, despite all that, there is an understanding we would call the plain meaning, and an understanding that is not the plain meaning. Take Maimonides’ anti-anthropomorphism, for example—the anti-corporeal understanding. Today when we read in the Torah that God raised His mighty hand or something like that, it never occurs to us that this refers to an actual hand. It’s obvious—it’s figurative, it’s a metaphor, right? Today we call that a plain-sense reading; it’s not midrash, it’s peshat. Right? Nobody thinks twice before explaining it that way. For Maimonides this was a huge innovation; Maimonides had to fight for the claim that it is correct to interpret it that way. Let’s say people who grew up on the basis of standard religious education don’t even blink when they see such a thing. It’s obvious—“hand” is a metaphor. They don’t even consciously account for it to themselves; I simply read it that way. That’s the plain meaning. Now from this you can understand that there is no pure reading, what’s called thin reading—there is no pure reading. Every reading is always wrapped in a lot of connotations and contexts and assumptions and all kinds of things we bring with us from home. Language does not have one simple objective meaning. That is pretty clear. On the other hand, to take this in the opposite direction and say, well then there is no such thing as a correct and incorrect interpretation—that’s deconstruction. Meaning, the hermeneutic approach in interpretation theory that says that interpretation is nothing but a reflection of the interpreter. Meaning, there is nothing in the text itself that says that this interpretation is correct and that one is incorrect; it’s all a reflection of the interpreter. That takes things too far. That’s basically what he wants to claim. True, there is flexibility and complexity and it isn’t simple—all true—but still there is peshat and there is non-peshat. Meaning, it’s not… There is an interpretation that when you hear it, you understand that this is the simple meaning of the words, and there are interpretations that are by way of parable and not the plain meaning, or midrashic exposition.
[Speaker E] But even plain meaning and exposition are sometimes created as a result of the connotation of the environment.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, true. People always say that your plain meaning is my exposition and vice versa, yes, that. “And in this too there are several ways. Sometimes the parable is a story in which the facts are not the main thing, and it may be that there are no facts here at all, but only the ideas it comes to teach, such as Jacob’s ladder. And sometimes the narrated facts are indeed in their plain meaning and just as they are.” By the way, Jacob’s ladder is a bad example—
[Speaker K] A bad example, because Maimonides says in the Guide of the Perplexed that the matter of the ladder is a hundred percent allegory, as if nothing there…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But obviously, because Jacob really dreamed it. The Torah itself describes it as a dream.
[Speaker K] Then argue with Maimonides; that’s exactly what he writes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but…
[Speaker K] Therefore, though, other things are seventy-thirty, like that…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe. But I’m saying that to my mind this is a very bad example, because this is an example where the Torah itself says it was a dream. We are speaking about a case where the Torah describes things as though they were historical events. Fine, one can argue about the meaning of that dream, but here this is not a good example. Because when you now come to apply this to a place where things are described as events that really happened and then say that it is a parable—from the ladder I could not have inferred that conclusion. I’m willing to accept that even about the ladder you can say that it was a prophetic vision and that he really saw something true there despite it being a dream. But to bring proof from there that things can be conveyed by way of a parable—that’s not a good proof. It’s simply not a successful proof. Balaam’s donkey? What? Balaam’s donkey? Could be, yes.
[Speaker I] I think that in the Guide of the Perplexed he actually brings “and a man wrestled with him,” that it isn’t necessarily… the angels… Nachmanides goes to the heavens over that—“parable, I’m telling you that this is that, the ladder…” But also about that he said…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That the angels, he brings…
[Speaker I] He describes how a person can get up in the morning with his leg injured because he dreamed about it at night.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, okay. The allegorists, by the way—the followers of Yedaya ha-Penini, whom I mentioned earlier, the ones against whom Rashba’s ban was issued—they relied on Maimonides. Meaning, they took Maimonides as the basis for their allegorist approach. And sometimes the facts being told are indeed literal, exactly as they happened, and still they come to teach things beyond their simple meaning. In other words, sometimes the events being described are a parable even though the story really did happen. Why? Because what they’re trying… because the motivation for bringing this story is not to teach you the historical events, but to use them to illustrate an idea—they’re just using a story that actually happened. On the contrary, many times the best parables are events that really happened, and you don’t notice some angle that appears in that story, and then someone with a sharper eye tells you: pay attention, look at what happened here. In other words, it teaches something. So once I remember some story—I don’t remember all the details, it was really beautiful, it’s a shame to tell it because if I don’t remember it properly I’ll ruin it. There was Yedidya Meir—Yedidya Meir is his name, right? Sivan Rahav Meir’s… so he was on their Friday program; they have a program on the radio in the afternoon. In one of the first programs they started, he told there about some event before an election at some point, I don’t remember exactly what. There was a beautiful story there, and I’m sure that if I had experienced it myself I would have just gone home from there and not felt that anything had happened at all. Meaning, he passed some intersection and there was some guy standing there, a Meretz activist I think, with signs and so on, already sweating all over and so on, so he opens the window and says to him, listen, brother, you… and then he takes him to a kiosk, and at the kiosk he takes—he takes a sandwich with—no, he doesn’t take him at all, sorry, Yedidya Meir goes to bring him a drink and food, and then he takes a sandwich and chocolate milk and goes to the seller, and the seller—Ahmed, it says here, an Arab—says to him: that sandwich is meat, and you’re taking it with chocolate milk? What—how can that be? You need to switch it. He hadn’t noticed that he took a meat sandwich. He switched the sandwich. In short, everything there was upside down, a story straight out of the prophetic reading, and everything was—he says, this really happened, and I’m sure that if I had gone through that whole chain of events, I wouldn’t have noticed at all that anything special had happened here. Meaning, you need some kind of bird’s-eye view to suddenly see that whole unfolding and see that—it’s like the Book of Esther, where everything happens in sequence, you understand? This happens, and then that, and when you look from the side, suddenly you see there’s a story here. Now that means—it’s basically a parable, even though the whole incident really happened. By the way, that’s the art of a photographer, the art of—
[Speaker B] Kishon claimed that he never made anything up, ever—things exactly as they were.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. But the art of a photographer is even stronger. There’s a book by Roland Barthes about photography, and with a photographer it’s even stronger, because a photographer captures a situation that all of us pass by. Meaning, it’s a situation that exists—he didn’t do anything there, he didn’t paint, he’s a photographer—but he captures a situation that you could pass by and see nothing there, and then suddenly you see two Arab workers—yes, like Leibov with that famous photograph in Herzliya, there, with Herzl, with the statue of Herzl there by the side of Highway 2, where two Arab workers are standing there and Herzl says, “Welcome to the land of Hebrew labor,” I don’t know, something like that. There’s a whole story there, some wonderful photograph, and it’s clear that if I had passed by it I wouldn’t have felt even half of it.
[Speaker B] Going back, turning left, yes.
[Speaker L] So, Rabbi, in the Knesset there’s a sign that a photographer photographed, and it says, “Beware of dogs”—it really is, he photographed it—
[Speaker B] At the last station of the light rail in Jerusalem, there’s an electrical transformer station, and on it there’s a giant sign that says “Station of Hatred”—hatred, yes—and I sent it by email to some of my friends. They told me it’s the counterpoint to “Peace Station” in Tel Aviv.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Nice. You should send that to us, to the blog of—what’s his name—Asaf Ong, do you know “Oneg Shabbat”? He collects anecdotes like that with—
[Speaker K] Headlines—“If you will it, it is no—”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “Aggadah,” yes, exactly, right, yes. So that’s the parable of the second kind that he brings here: it’s a story that really happened, but it isn’t brought for the factual description, rather for the lesson contained in it. That’s the art of the photographer. Meaning: take a story that all of us saw, it happened, but what’s the lesson from it? It’s not the facts that occurred, but the context, or what it means—that’s what serves as the parable. And sometimes the speech is in words that are not being used in their literal meaning, but in a broader or borrowed meaning, okay? In short, a metaphor, yes, yes. He’ll now get to Guide for the Perplexed. This is all an introduction to Guide for the Perplexed. He says he takes this from Guide for the Perplexed. I’m saying, fine, this is his introduction toward—we’ll see later, we’ll finish the introduction and then move on in order to his commentary.