Mysticism – Lesson 20

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[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I didn’t say that this has practical implications on the halakhic side, but I’m asking the question: is Religious Zionism a messianic movement? Now, in order to decide that question—which is not a halakhic question, as I already said earlier and we’ll come back to it—do I actually need to discuss whether it fits the signs in the prophets or in the words of the Sages, the signs of the Messiah as they appear in the Mishnah in Sotah and elsewhere, and discuss whether it will succeed or not succeed, or at least wait to see whether it succeeds or not? That’s often how people think about it, and I claim that this is not relevant at all, or almost not relevant. These are completely different questions. The question whether it will succeed or not is unrelated. It could be false messianism and succeed. It could fail and still not be false messianism. The fit with prophetic signs is also unrelated to the issue. Matching prophetic signs only tells us whether there really is a process of redemption here. But false messianism is not only a diagnosis of the nature of the process; there’s also some dimension here of what I do with that diagnosis. And that has nothing to do with whether it matches the signs that appear in the prophets or in the words of the Sages, or whether it doesn’t. Maybe it matches, but what I’m doing still ought not to be done. Maybe it doesn’t match, but what I’m doing still isn’t messianism. Again, that’s why I’m saying: these two questions—whether it matches the signs in the prophets and the words of the Sages, and the question of the future, whether it will succeed or not—are not the determining questions regarding whether this is a messianic movement or not. Or not necessarily the determining questions. Let’s phrase that a bit more moderately; I’ll get into more detail later. So I’m just saying this up front in order to clear off the table the kinds of discussions that are usually held in this context, because I’m talking about a question that, it seems to me, ought to be examined with somewhat different tools. But let’s start from the beginning. When we discuss the concept of a messianic movement, first we need to discuss the question of what Messiah and redemption are. What is their status, how are we supposed to relate to them; after that we can try to ask what a messianic movement is, which of course is connected to Messiah and redemption in some way.

So, Maimonides, in the thirteen principles or foundations of faith—he brings them in his commentary at the beginning of chapter Helek—Maimonides lists thirteen foundations there. Maybe I’ll share the file here. And the twelfth foundation is the days of the Messiah: that one should believe and affirm that he will come, and one should not say that he is delayed; “though he tarry, wait for him”; and one should not set a time for him, and one should not say that he is delayed; “though he tarry, wait for him”; and one should not interpret the verses in order to derive from them the time of his coming. Okay? The Sages said: “May the spirit of those who calculate the end expire.” And one should believe in him because of his greatness and love, and pray for his coming in accordance with what was said about him by every prophet, from Moses to Malachi. And whoever doubts him or belittles the matter denies the Torah, which explicitly promised him in the passage of Balaam and in “You are standing today,” in those two passages. And included in this foundation is that Israel has no king except from David and specifically from the seed of Solomon, and anyone who disputes this family line denies God and the words of His prophets. Here there is only a hint to the point that the verse “The scepter shall not depart from Judah,” on which people often base the prohibition against transferring the monarchy to another tribe—not the House of David—according to Maimonides is not understood as a halakhic prohibition. Maimonides claims that this is some kind of heresy against the divine promise, the prophecy of redemption—sorry, because redemption has to… Maimonides determines that there is an obligation to believe in the coming of the Messiah. That is the twelfth principle of his principles of faith. Yes, and also in the Mishneh Torah, in the Laws of Kings, he says the same thing.

The Talmud in Sanhedrin 99: Rabbi Hillel says, “Israel has no Messiah, for they already consumed him in the days of Hezekiah.” So Rabbi Hillel argues that there is no Messiah; there was such an option in the days of Hezekiah and it was already exhausted back then. Rav Yosef said, “May the Master forgive Rabbi Hillel.” Right, and then he brings proof from Hezekiah—from Zechariah, sorry—that Hezekiah was in the First Temple period, so if the Messiah ended with Hezekiah, how can Zechariah prophesy in the Second Temple period? In Zechariah, that is, during the Second Temple period, he prophesies about the Messiah—how can that be if the Messiah had already ended before him? Therefore Rabbi Hillel was mistaken. “May the Master forgive Rabbi Hillel.” On the one hand, “may the Master forgive him,” but on the other hand they still keep calling him Rabbi Hillel. Meaning there’s this ambivalent attitude: true, this is an error for which the Holy One, blessed be He, should forgive him, but he does not lose his rabbinic titles because of that position.

The Sefer Ha-Ikkarim discusses this statement at length. He basically argues—he brings Rabbi Hillel as proof that someone who does not believe in the coming of the Messiah cannot, against Maimonides, be considered a heretic with respect to a principle. Because there is an Amora who said this, and therefore it is not reasonable that holding such a position is heresy in a principle. But obviously he too agrees that Rabbi Hillel was mistaken. He only brings proof from Rabbi Hillel that this cannot be a principle—that is, it cannot be something such that whoever denies it is denying a principle.

By the way, in parentheses I’ll add: the claim of Sefer Ha-Ikkarim actually hints, it seems to me, at a thesis that I’ve said and written many times: that in matters of worldview, of thought—not in matters of Jewish law—there is no final ruling. Because otherwise what’s the problem? Why is the proof he brings from Rabbi Hillel’s words relevant? So Rabbi Hillel was mistaken, the ruling follows against him, and once the ruling follows against him, belief in the coming of the Messiah is a principle of faith. Fine. There are disputes about the most severe prohibitions imaginable, things punishable by death, things punishable by karet, and there are disputes about them among the tannaim and among the amoraim. The fact that something is very, very serious and fundamental does not mean that dispute cannot arise about it. I think the spirit blowing through the words of the author of the Ikkarim is that if there was such a position as Rabbi Hillel’s, it’s not reasonable that this lies outside the fold, because there is no halakhic ruling in such matters—which Maimonides also writes in several places. And in any case you cannot say that the ruling was against him and therefore this is a principle of faith. Halakhic rulings do not determine what is or is not a principle of faith. Principles of faith are not connected to halakhic rulings. So that’s just a side note.

In any event, for our purposes: whether this is a principle of faith or not, clearly belief in the coming of the Messiah is one of the foundations of the Jewish worldview, let’s call it that. Okay? Maybe not exactly in Jewish law; one has to discuss exactly what the status of these principles is. But there is no positive commandment to believe in the coming of the Messiah among the 613 commandments. There isn’t; no such commandment is counted. But it is clear that this is some kind of obligation, part of the basic framework of Jewish faith, and I think roughly everyone agrees on that.

More than that: beyond belief in the coming of the Messiah, there is also—let’s say—an obligation, again, whenever I say “obligation” here it is never a halakhic obligation, but there is some sort of obligation to await salvation. The Talmud in Shabbat says—Rava says, in Shabbat 31: “At the time a person is brought to judgment, they say to him: Did you conduct business faithfully? Did you set aside times for Torah? Did you engage in procreation? Did you await salvation? Did you engage in wisdom? Did you infer one thing from another?” and so on. You see, by the way, from this whole list—maybe procreation is a bit different; “did you conduct business faithfully,” it’s a question whether that refers to the halakhic layer or beyond it. “Did you engage in procreation” also seems to be something beyond the minimal commandment of a son and a daughter. And this whole list somehow seems to be things that are not full halakhic obligations, but matters or obligations that are non-halakhic, or however you want to define it. In any case, there is some concept of awaiting salvation.

The Ran also writes there: “Did you await salvation?” Rashi of blessed memory explained: with regard to the words of the prophets. And one still needs to explain: “Did you await salvation in your days?” It does not say: did you await that salvation would come to Israel. This is not just some statement of whether you believed in salvation in general, but whether you awaited it in your own days. Right, there is some kind of obligation to make that anticipation something concrete. So we have basic belief in the coming of the Messiah; we have an obligation to await the Messiah, and maybe even to await concretely that he will come in our days. Again, to await does not mean to assess that he must come in our days—that’s something else—but to hope, to pray for it, I don’t know, however you want to call it. To make it present in our lives, yes? Not some general belief, to recite the thirteen principles after prayer, one of which is the coming of the Messiah, but to make it something present, tangible, existential for us. Yes, that is anticipation. Anticipation does not mean an estimate that he will come in our days; that’s something else.

The third stage I want to mention: both in the Hebrew Bible and in the Talmud, in the Mishnah in Sotah and the Talmud there in Sotah, in the words of the Sages in several places, there are characteristics that describe the generation of redemption, the form of redemption, and give us some diagnostic tools to know when the Messiah is arriving. Okay? So in that sense there is even some kind of—not sure if incentive—but they do give us some tools to try and diagnose when he is coming. Meaning the anticipation now turns into something that is also supposed somehow to occupy us, or even to make us try a diagnosis: yes? Is this the Messiah or not, has the Messiah arrived or not? Of course this already starts taking us in the direction of false messianism, because these tools could ostensibly help us determine when it’s the Messiah and when it’s a false messiah. But in any case, these signs at least seemingly give legitimacy to being occupied with this—with diagnosis, with estimating when he’s coming, whether he’s coming, and so forth.

Sometimes this is a theoretical pursuit, but usually in history we know that this engagement with the signs of redemption awakens in those situations where people feel that it’s really here. Meaning it starts becoming current. It’s not just a general issue of clarifying the signs of redemption in the abstract. Usually people do this when it seems concrete to them. Often it happens around times of suffering, because that gives people some comfort that the Messiah is coming. But when they do this investigation, they try to show that the Messiah is already here, or already knocking at the door: “The voice of my beloved knocks.”

On the other hand, we know—and I quoted earlier from Maimonides—that Maimonides, while discussing the obligation to believe in the coming of the Messiah, writes: “The Sages said: May the minds of those who calculate the end burst,” and it is forbidden to interpret the verses in order to derive from them the time of his coming, and not to set a time for him. Meaning all these things, Maimonides says, are forbidden. Again, what does “forbidden” mean? There apparently is no halakhic prohibition here, at least it doesn’t look that way; it doesn’t appear in the language of prohibition. But “forbidden” means very, very not recommended. It is something negative, even if not in the formal halakhic sense.

Now, that didn’t stop people throughout history from dealing with it anyway. The Talmud in Sanhedrin 97: “It was taught, Rabbi Natan says: this verse penetrates and descends to the abyss: ‘For there is yet a vision for the appointed time, and it speaks of the end and does not lie; though it tarry, wait for it, for it will surely come and will not delay.’ And not like our rabbis who would expound ‘until a time, times, and half a time,’ and not like Rabbi Simlai…” Never mind, there are all sorts of people here who expounded when the Messiah would come. And in the end: What is the meaning of “and it speaks of the end and does not lie”? Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani said in the name of Rabbi Yonatan: “May the bones of those who calculate the end burst,” because they would say: since the end arrived and he did not come, he will never come. Rather, wait for him, as it is said: “Though it tarry, wait for it.” Here there is already a hint as to why it is forbidden—or why the Sages generally so strongly object to those who calculate the end: because of the disappointment that is expected when it doesn’t work out. Therefore, don’t get involved with these calculations. Some kind of avoidance.

“And all these things and similar matters,” I should maybe share this too, “a person does not know how they will be until they happen, for they are hidden matters in the prophets. Even the Sages have no tradition about these things, only according to the implications of the verses.” By the way, Maimonides himself dealt with calculating the end, as is well known. “And therefore they have disputes about these matters. But in any case the sequence of these events and their details are not central to religion.” You see a language of reservation here, but not a halakhic prohibition. He says: look, this certainly isn’t something important or central, and in general it’s not desirable to deal with it. It’s not worthwhile, nobody will know it, it’s very problematic. “And one should not spend time on aggadic midrashim or on the statements in the aggadot and midrashim said concerning these matters and the like, and one should not make them essential, for they do not lead either to fear or to love. And likewise one should not calculate the ends. The Sages said: May the spirit of those who calculate the ends expire. Rather, one should wait and believe in the matter in general, as we explained.” He’s talking a bit against the Ran, yes? Believe in general that the Messiah will come; don’t get involved in the question whether he is already here. Okay? That does not contradict the Ran, because the Ran says: believe or long for his coming now. But even he does not say: start making calculations now and see whether he is coming or not. That is calculating the end. But the anticipation or belief in the coming of the Messiah should be concrete, not merely some declaration of a general principle of faith.

So that’s on the one hand, the obligation to await salvation, and on the other hand the prohibition or recommendation—the reservation against involvement in calculations of the end. Now there is another point here. Until now we’ve dealt with calculating the end in general. What about bringing redemption—doing actions that in practice will hasten redemption? And of course I’m not talking on the level of doing commandments so that by merit of those commandments the Holy One, blessed be He, will bring us the Messiah. Fine? That again could be a commandment done for ulterior motives, but there is no prohibition in that. What you are doing is an act that is itself a commandment that you have to do in any case. This motivation or that motivation—that’s not the point. I’m talking about doing things that will bring the Messiah, where the entire meaning of these things is that they will bring the Messiah.

So look: “And thus Rabbi Yehuda would say”—Talmud in Sanhedrin—“Israel was commanded with three commandments upon entering the land: to appoint a king, to wipe out the seed of Amalek, and to build the Chosen House.” So let’s say that both a king and the Chosen House are connected to redemption, say, today. Do we have some obligation to strive to appoint a king and build the Chosen House? Yes, the whole debate over building the Temple, the Temple Institute, and so on. Are we under some obligation to take practical steps to do this? Now here these are already counted commandments, note well. To appoint a king and to build the Chosen House are commandments. “Israel was commanded with three commandments upon entering the land.” Commandments—so surely we are obligated to deal with them, right? So here this is indeed not a simple question.

In the first two Temples, certainly the Jewish people built them as part of the commandment to build the Chosen House. Maimonides writes in positive commandment number twenty: “That He commanded us to build a house of worship, in which sacrifice will be offered and the fire burned continually, and to which there will be going, pilgrimage, and gathering each year, as has been explained; and that is what He, exalted be He, said: ‘And they shall make Me a sanctuary.’” There is a positive commandment, yes, clearly we are supposed to do this.

But Rashi in Sukkah writes: “But the future Temple, for which we wait, is already built and perfected; it will be revealed and come from heaven, as it is said: ‘The sanctuary, Lord, which Your hands established.’” Meaning the First Temple and the Second Temple were built by us, through our effort, through ordinary human action. The future Temple, the Third Temple—ostensibly this is a commandment, a counted commandment. It is not a commandment that has lapsed; it is still in force, yes? Sacrifices too, in principle, are still a commandment—it’s just that we don’t have the Temple, so we can’t offer them. That’s only a technical problem. But if we could do what is needed in order to offer the sacrifices, ostensibly we would be obligated to do so; that is an effort one must make in order to fulfill commandments. Rashi says no: “The future Temple, for which we wait, will be revealed and come from heaven.” We are not supposed to take practical steps to build a Third Temple; it will come from heaven. Yes, this is the Haredi passivity until today, basically a clear expression of that approach.

But the Arukh LaNer there in Sukkah, in that same passage, writes on this Rashi that others also wrote like him, but he himself is not willing to accept it, and he says: “Therefore it seems to me, in my humble opinion, that certainly the future Temple will be built as an actual structure by human hands. And what is said, ‘The sanctuary, Lord, which Your hands established,’ which in Tanhuma is expounded as descending below, refers to a spiritual Temple that will come into the physically built Temple, like a soul within a body. Just as in the Tabernacle or the Temple the heavenly fire descended into the ordinary fire that was kindled with wood.” Okay? Basically he is saying: obviously we are supposed to build the Temple in practice; it is a counted commandment. Obviously we must do it ourselves; it’s not something to wait for to descend from heaven. And what the midrash says—that it will come down from heaven—this spiritual Temple will descend into the Temple that we build here, the Temple of wood and stones that we build here, like the fire from above descending into the ordinary fire.

So he is basically saying there is already a dispute even with regard to building the Temple, which according to everyone is a counted positive commandment. Even there, Rashi tells us: the first two Temples yes, but the Third Temple is supposed to descend from heaven; we are supposed to wait passively, not take actions that promote it. The Arukh LaNer won’t accept that and says what do you mean—this is really not clear halakhically. There is a positive commandment to build a Temple; we are supposed to strive to do it, like any other commandment. So there is already a dispute around this issue, and apparently—I’m saying—the dispute is not disconnected from the question of messianism. When Rashi tells us to wait passively for the Temple, he is essentially telling us, apparently, that we want to prevent messianism, messianic phenomena. And in this case that means practical action whose purpose is to bring redemption, or the Temple, or whatever it may be.

So what about the first two Temples? There there were prophets. Also the Second Temple, by the way—when it was built there was still prophecy, yes? Ezra or Nehemiah and the remnants of the Men of the Great Assembly—sorry, not remnants of the Men of the Great Assembly; the remnants of prophecy were still in the Great Assembly. From the remnants of the Men of the Great Assembly there’s Shimon HaTzaddik. So there were prophets there, and the Temple was built by prophetic instruction; that’s perfectly fine. But today, when we have no prophet, then apparently we are supposed to wait for it to descend from heaven. So that’s a bit strange—what does Rashi do with this commandment of building the Temple? Is it a commandment that lapsed? Is it not a commandment forever? It’s not entirely clear. That is why the Arukh LaNer does not accept it.

So there is already some reservation here, one that even enters the halakhic field: there is a positive commandment to build a Temple, and nevertheless Rashi tells us no, wait for it to descend from heaven. These are citations that come up a lot in today’s debates about building the Temple, and also around Zionism in general, by the way. People used this Rashi not only about the Temple; much Haredi opposition to Zionism quoted this Rashi to say that the whole matter of bringing redemption is not incumbent upon us. Even building the Temple is not incumbent upon us; we need to wait until it comes to us from above, until the Holy One, blessed be He, sends someone to do it for us. Religious Zionism did not accept this; it basically went in the direction of the Arukh LaNer, claiming that we need to do it with our own hands. Regarding the Temple, even within Religious Zionism there are, as is well known, disputes, but overall it seems that the Zionist view is fertile ground for the Temple movement. Yes, if we are already striving to bring redemption, then the Temple is obviously a central part of that, so it follows that we also ought to do what is needed to build the Temple.

So basically up to this point what we see is perhaps some kind of reservation—and even that is disputed—about taking practical steps to bring redemption. Maybe even against calculating the end, out of fear of heartbreak and disappointment and so on. But clearly one must await salvation, pray for it, believe in the coming of the Messiah. All those things are certainly true.

So what is the concept of false messianism? The concept of false messianism—even though we’ve already seen several hints of it in what I’ve said so far—it’s quite clear that there is no halakhic prohibition in it. Even if we were able to identify that some movement or some person is a false messiah, or a messianic movement that is some kind of false messianism—which we still need to understand, what exactly that means—even if there is such a thing, and we finish the diagnosis, still you can’t say that those people are criminals. There is no prohibition against being a false messiah.

To sharpen that, I’ll contrast it with a false prophet. A false prophet is subject to a counted prohibition among the commandments. It is forbidden to be a false prophet, and forbidden to accept the words of a false prophet. There it is part of Jewish law. Someone who is not a prophet and presents himself as a prophet violates a prohibition, and someone who listens to him also violates a prohibition. By contrast, someone who is not the Messiah and presents himself as the Messiah, or someone who follows him, has not violated a prohibition. There is no prohibition in that. It’s not recommended, whatever—you can argue here and there, it can lead to problems, fine, these are discussions that can be had. But there is no prohibition in it.

Take the Lubavitcher Rebbe, for example. Right? This is false messianism par excellence. A nice story I once heard—I think I already told it here—I once heard it from Ephraim Shach, the son of Rabbi Shach, on the radio. He said there that he was once at the Rebbe’s dollar distribution in Brooklyn. And when his turn came, the Rebbe said to him: Who are you, sir? What’s your name? Ephraim. Ephraim what? He said: Ephraim Shach. He said to him: You’re the son of the Rosh Yeshiva? He said yes. He said to him: Are you willing to wait here a moment? I want to speak with you. Fine, he waited there until the distribution was over. Then the Rebbe says to him: Listen, when you go back home to Israel, go in to your father and tell your father: it’s not me, it’s my Hasidim. Because Rabbi Shach, as is well known, said that Chabad is the sect closest to Judaism. So Rabbi Shach was fiercely opposed to Chabad messianism. Against that background, he says to Ephraim—the son of Rabbi Shach—when you get to your father, tell him: listen, it’s not me, it’s my Hasidim. He said okay.

He gets back to Israel—this is all what he told on the radio—goes in to his father and says: Dad, listen, I was with the Rebbe, and he asked me to tell you that it’s not him, it’s his Hasidim. So Rabbi Shach, as the Litvak he was, says to him: listen, next time you’re with him, tell him to tell his Hasidim that, not me. Meaning, he’s telling me it’s not me, it’s my Hasidim? Tell your Hasidim it’s not you. In other words, you’re telling me it’s not you—or in other words, don’t confuse me with nonsense. Meaning excuses like “it’s not him, it’s his Hasidim”—if he had said unequivocally, friends, you’re talking nonsense, then presumably his Hasidim wouldn’t have said it; that’s at least my assessment, and I assume Rabbi Shach’s too.

So in short, on this point—for example, if we take the criterion of actual fulfillment, then it has already been proven that this is a false messiah. But as I said, fulfillment is not the criterion. Yes, there are the well-known excuses: we weren’t worthy, actually he was intended to be the Messiah but we were not worthy. There are always excuses after these things collapse. There are always excuses. By the way, to my mind that’s one of the symptoms of messianic movements—these excuses by which everything always works out for them. A theory that cannot be falsified. In any event, the claim is: in any case there is no halakhic transgression here. Because people wrote all sorts of books—there’s some book, I don’t remember its name, by some American rabbi from a few years ago, explaining that Chabad is terrible, Torah-level prohibitions, and all kinds of things like that. He exaggerates wildly. I was very antagonistic to Chabad messianism, but I don’t think you can say that there is any prohibition involved here. Not recommended, whatever, all true—but there is no halakhic prohibition in it. Even if the Rebbe knew he was not the Messiah and manipulated everyone into thinking he was the Messiah—let’s even grant that it really was him and not only his Hasidim—still, what prohibition is there in that? There is none.

There are concerns, and by the way those concerns have largely not materialized. The concerns were that after it collapsed all his Hasidim would become Christians. That didn’t happen. I didn’t do statistics; I don’t know, maybe there were some who fell away. But in general, the whole enterprise did not collapse after the Rebbe died—among other things, probably thanks to all the excuses we still hear to this day. There are those who say he didn’t die, so then there’s no problem at all. But in the end this whole business did not lead to the terrible results that we often fear from false messianism. Even in that sense it’s hard to see the problem here. No halakhic prohibition, and perhaps even the feared problem never arose.

So what, then? Let me maybe present two things. What exactly is the problem with false messianism? It could be that the problem is, first, the fear of disappointment. That once it turns out to be false messianism, people will somehow abandon everything, as Maimonides writes explicitly. People will abandon everything; there is a fear of collapse. And overall there are examples of this. Yes, there was also in Eastern Europe, I think at the beginning of the twentieth century or end of the nineteenth, and also in Jerusalem shortly before World War I, I think. Shulamit Lapid, I think in The Broken Pottery Shard, in that book, I think she describes this phenomenon: there was this very strong rumor going around that the Messiah was at the door. People sold their property in Europe, their furniture, everything, and got ready to move to the Land of Israel. There’s a story about various rabbis—Rabbi Yaakov Gesundheit of Warsaw, I heard it; I once heard it also about Rabbi Aharon Kotler—who got up on the platform on the Sabbath, banged on the table, and swore that the Messiah would not come in the coming year, in order to calm people down. People were about to lose their world because of this.

Or in Jerusalem, as Shulamit Lapid really describes there—and this is a well-known historical phenomenon, it’s a novel set against a historical background—there was mass conversion to Christianity in Jerusalem in the old yishuv. A phenomenon many people do not know. In the old yishuv, those dark religious Jews sitting there in the old yishuv, there was mass conversion to Christianity around World War I, a bit before and during it, because there were rumors that the Messiah was about to arrive, and when he didn’t, people broke. There was terrible poverty there and an awful famine during World War I. In any event, these fears are certainly real fears.

Beyond that, there is also apparently—at least as I understand it, and again all this is interpretation, there are no halakhic sources here and therefore no binding sources—in my impression there is also some problem beyond the consequences. There is a problem with the falsehood. If it is false messianism, then first of all it is false. Fine, maybe there won’t be bad consequences, maybe there is no halakhic prohibition—but it is false. It is not right to believe in falsehoods. Why do I need to look for consequences that will clarify for me why this thing is prohibited? First of all it is prohibited because it is false. And one ought not to believe falsehoods. And if we spoke about Maimonides and “you shall not practice divination” and spell-casting, yes, that whole family of prohibitions, “You shall be wholehearted with the Lord your God,” where Maimonides says that there is a prohibition against being foolish—this is certainly no less severe than those prohibitions. The prohibition against following falsehood, and certainly against being foolish when you follow falsehood, can indeed perhaps be learned from those prohibitions, at least according to Maimonides’ view. I don’t know.

In any case, I think there is something here… I don’t know of a halakhic prohibition in this matter; there’s a question in the chat here. And by the way, there is no halakhic prohibition against falsehood either. Falsehood as such—there is no halakhic prohibition against lying. There is “Keep far from a false matter,” but there is no prohibition counted among the commandments against falsehood. There is a prohibition against lying in court. But there is no prohibition against falsehood as such. Rabbeinu Yonah turns falsehood into a halakhic topic and has, I think, thirteen or seventeen grades of lies there, one above the next—but that’s an invention, yes, obviously that’s not correct. There is no halakhic prohibition against lying. There is no source for that; there is a great negation of it. Just as Rabbi Sherlo writes some kind of Shulchan Arukh of lying in one of the early issues of Tzohar, I think issue 2 maybe—he presented an initial Shulchan Arukh of the laws of lying. He tried to collect these things. It’s somewhat similar to the work of the Chafetz Chaim on evil speech, which is overall a work of invention of course. Meaning, there is a prohibition on evil speech, but all the details he created from it, a halakhic book, and he analyzed it and the definitions of the prohibition and so forth—a large part of that is inventions. He takes aggadot from here, aggadot from there, and produces from them some kind of Shulchan Arukh. Again, I’m not saying there is no prohibition of evil speech; there is, and it is counted among the commandments. But many of the details that were innovated there are things the Chafetz Chaim created virtually from whole cloth. From half-whole-cloth, yes—from aggadot, from various things and so on, at least a large part of them. So very often when people try to produce a sort of Shulchan Arukh out of a topic of this kind, there is an element of invention in it. Rabbeinu Yonah started that, not Rabbi Sherlo.

In any event, simply speaking there is no formal halakhic prohibition against falsehood. Okay? There is a warning in the Torah, “Keep far from a false matter,” true. Clearly the Torah objects to falsehoods. That is clear. Is it a formal halakhic prohibition that is counted? I don’t think so. Okay, so there is some problem here in this concept of false messianism.

Now, it could be that the type of prohibition can help me in diagnosis, when I ask myself how I know what false messianism is. One can try to derive it from the question of what is problematic about it. Meaning, if what is problematic about it is falsehood, then false messianism is something false. Fine; you need to know the indicators—how do I know whether some messiah is false or not? But at least I know what I’m looking for, okay? If the problem is the consequences, then again, ostensibly false messianism is something liable to lead to problematic consequences, and then it is simply historical analysis. One needs to analyze the phenomenon and see whether problematic consequences are likely to result from it or not. And that will determine whether this is false messianism or not.

That is why in this matter we are treading on pretty virgin ground. It is very hard to come up with clear answers, because as I said earlier, even the problem there is in false messianism—the matter of interpretation—it is very unclear what the issue is. Even after I know what the problem is, applying it in diagnosis is also a problem. How would you know what will bring the severe consequences and what won’t? That is always determined only after the fact. Meaning, after everyone has shattered, now I know: this was false messianism. But I need to beware of false messianism while it is happening. After all this has already happened, what do I care that I can now determine that it was false messianism? When I tell people “beware of false messianism,” I am supposed to warn them against a phenomenon that they can identify already while it is occurring. To be wise after the fact—that’s a small wisdom. If you want to warn someone against false messianism, give him tools that tell him what false messianism is in real time, not afterward. After the fact it turned out to be false messianism. Here, Bar Kokhba. So why is he considered a false messiah? Because in the end he failed. So what? How could I have known at the beginning that he would fail in the end? What blame is there on one who believed he was the Messiah, if in the end it didn’t work out? It didn’t work out—maybe we were not worthy, as the Chabad Hasidim say. I don’t know. But that certainly is not a tool that can help me in real time to know that there is some dangerous phenomenon here, or a phenomenon that I am forbidden to join.

So what diagnostic tools can I nevertheless point to in real time? Here, since the question is not a halakhic one, one can try to use historical examples. There are several historical examples: Bar Kokhba, Christianity, David Alroy, Molcho, Shabbetai Tzvi—we have all kinds of phenomena that at least in retrospect there is some agreement that this was false messianism. Even if in real time there were disputes—and there certainly were disputes about some of these things, including Shabbetai Tzvi; there were fierce disputes among great Sages as to whether this phenomenon was genuine or not and whether it was right to join it or forbidden to join it—still, after the fact, once we saw what happened afterward, that it failed, and then—in the case of Shabbetai Tzvi, at least—it led to conversion and severe disappointment and terrible, awful fractures, it is agreed that this was false messianism. Maybe the Sages who made these judgments after the fact can help us extract from those phenomena some criteria that can serve us in real time. Yes? Shaving on someone else’s beard is always more intelligent than waiting to shave on your own beard.

I’m not going to go through all these examples. There is an analysis of them in that work I mentioned by my daughter. But in those analyses one can try to extract different characteristics, and I’ll summarize them in a moment. But first I want to distinguish between two kinds of messianism. People often use the term messianism in a context that is not religious at all, and certainly not Jewish. Yes? National liberation movements, or liberation for women and for Blacks and for—movements like communism, all kinds of movements that strive toward some sort of utopia, are often accused of a kind of messianism. But that is not the messianism I’m talking about here, because there of course this is a borrowed use of the term messianism. I am speaking about messianism in its religious, eschatological sense—a movement carried by some kind of religious spirit—not in a borrowed sense, some ideology that we believe in very strongly and want to advance. I don’t think anyone would say that advancing an ideology is not okay. Advancing an ideology is perfectly fine. But advancing the Messiah—there are those who say that is not okay. Why? That is often the claim of the messianists. Why is every ideology allowed to be advanced, but the ideology of the Messiah—which we are all supposed to believe in with complete faith, “I believe with complete faith,” yes—that one is forbidden to advance? Why? What, should a priestess be treated worse than an innkeeper? Meaning if ideologies are allowed to be advanced, then messianism is forbidden to be advanced? So I want to remove from the discussion the issue of advancing ideologies. Advancing ideologies is often called messianism—sometimes when it comes in too fanatical a form, also in the sense that you don’t understand that your utopia also has drawbacks, also in the sense of what you’re willing to do in order to advance it—yes, to kill everyone who opposes it, for example, and things like that. Then they accuse you of messianism. But that is “messianic” only in a borrowed sense, and I think accusing those examples of messianism is an incorrect use of the concept.

Because I accuse them for being murderers, not for being messianic. Meaning, I use the term messianism about communism not because they believed with complete faith in their utopia—let them believe, that’s their right—but because of what they did because of it. What did they do? They murdered everyone who opposed them, or oppressed everyone just in order to bring their utopia—assuming optimistically, yes, that those righteous ones really did it for the sake of bringing the utopia. Others, it’s not so clear that that really was their motivation, but many did. Okay? So basically my problem with them is not the question whether they are messianic; my problem is that they are murderers. And therefore the concept of messianism only tells me why they murdered. They murdered because they were some kind of messianists. Fine—but that’s not what interests me. The accusation against them is not messianism; the accusation against them is that they are murderers.

Somewhat like the analysis I made in one of my columns about racism. My conclusion there was that there is no such thing as racism—or there is no negative value called racism. Whenever we use the concept of racism, we actually mean to accuse someone that he is doing something bad, where maybe his motivation for doing it is racism. But the accusation is the bad thing he is doing: he is discriminating against people without justification. So the accusation is discrimination, not racism. If it’s on a racial basis or some other basis, what do I care? My claim against you is that you are discriminating, and it is not okay to discriminate. So similarly, I want to say here too: it is not the accusation of messianism that I’m looking for. I’m looking for where there is a problem in messianism itself, not in acts you do that are independently problematic. Okay? Rather the very thing—say, if I tell you that someone striving to advance communism by peaceful means, not by murdering opponents or other people, do I accuse him of messianism because he is striving for the realization of a utopia? No. So that means that this is not messianism—not in the sense I am talking about. I am speaking about messianism in, first, the religious sense; and second, where the accusation is messianism, not that messianism is the motivation but the accusation is murder, discrimination, or whatever. No—the accusation is messianism itself. What is the meaning of that? Why? Where do I see such a thing? What is a messianic movement in this sense?

So here, in order to save all the historical analysis, I’ll tell you broadly what the conclusion is, what conclusions emerge. First I’ll give a kind of a priori map. What exactly is the problem—what could be the problem—with messianism? The most extreme approach is Leibowitz’s approach. Yes, Leibowitz says that a messiah who arrives is not the messiah. The messiah will always come. Yes, that’s Leibowitz. A messiah who came is a false messiah. The messiah always comes in the future. Or in other words, belief in the coming of the Messiah is not factual belief that in the end a messiah will come, but some sort of engine for advancing the world or repairing the world. The attempt to bring the messiah is an engine for advancing the world, but believing that he will actually come in the end, and certainly pointing to him as already having come—that is false messianism. And he also hinted here and there at Christianity, yes—the problem with Christianity is that they believed that the messiah had arrived. And a messiah who arrived is by definition a false messiah. The messiah always arrives in the future.

Of course this is a very unaccepted view in the Jewish world, and I also think it is very problematic. It is very problematic because what do you want—that I should educate people on the basis of a false belief just because it leads them to do acts that improve the world? If I really know that the messiah will not come, then I also won’t act on messianic grounds. Maybe I’ll improve the world because I want it to be improved. But belief in the coming of the Messiah then becomes some sort of holy lie. Yes—no, the motivation itself is a lie. Because if you say that the messiah will come and that is what gives people motivation, that is falsehood. Because people think the messiah will come, and that is what gives them motivation, while you know that in fact he will not come. You are only pumping this into them in order to incentivize them to do certain actions. That is falsehood, what is called a holy lie. I spoke about that too in one of the columns. So that is the most extreme approach, which basically says: the messiah is an idea that is not supposed to be realized. It is only there to give people motivation for repair.

Ben-Gurion, by the way, also has a statement of that sort. So that is the most extreme approach. A somewhat less extreme approach says that any practical action you take in order to bring the messiah is what is called a messianic movement. Again, when I say messianic movement, I mean “messianic movement” in quotation marks—in the negative sense, yes? So the claim is basically that one cannot act practically in order to bring the messiah. That is a somewhat less extreme approach, but still pretty extreme, I would say.

A less extreme approach—and I think I tend more in this direction—is an approach that says: one may act, and perhaps even should act, to bring redemption, but the question is how. There are certain kinds of actions such that if you take them, that is a messianic movement in the negative sense. What kinds? I can suggest three kinds here. The first kind is actions involving halakhic prohibition. Yes, Shabbetai Tzvi did actions that are halakhically forbidden and also told his followers so. He canceled certain laws and so on. And he said that this is what would bring the messiah. Yes, we know also today of all sorts of people who commit adultery with married women or explain to them that this is what will bring the messiah—meaning all sorts of things like that, that is false messianism. Of course there you accuse them of adultery, not of false messianism, as I said earlier. But there is also false messianism there, because you are essentially taking actions that are halakhically forbidden in order to bring the messiah. So beyond the fact that you are violating halakhic prohibitions, there is also a problem with your messianic outlook itself. It is itself problematic beyond the prohibitions involved in the actions you took. So that is one possibility. Point one, yes? There are three approaches, and within the third approach, where the type of actions determines things, my first proposal is actions of halakhic prohibition. In the case of Shabbetai Tzvi this was certainly one of the parameters.

The second parameter, or second possibility, the second type of actions, is actions that perhaps are not accepted in our tradition, even if they are not transgressions in the formal halakhic sense. For example, in the Zionist movement, Religious Zionism advocated cooperation with secular people and heretics, including establishing a governmental system that is not the kingdom of Israel, not committed to Jewish law, a court system, yes? Or rebellion against the nations, forcing the end. All these are not halakhic arguments. There is no formal halakhic prohibition here—if you insist, maybe you can find one—but that is not the focus of the claim. The focus of the claim is that such a type of action is not fitting, and if your messianic belief leads you to take actions that are not accepted in our tradition, even though they are not formally halakhically prohibited, that is false messianism, that is a messianic movement. Again—not false messianism maybe; that might still need to be shown to be false. I want to talk about a messianic movement, not false messianism. Messianism but in the negative connotation, yes? But “false messianism” would be messianism that does not come to fruition, that fails—that has to be tested by outcomes. I’m not talking about that.

The third type is when the messianism leads you to take actions that have no justification in realistic thinking, where you exaggerate your power. For example, when people call on others to sell all their property and come to the Land of Israel when realistically they have no chance of successfully settling there. Okay? Or if you want, a security risk against the Arab states, or something like that. Very often the accusation against the Zionist movement—and Religious Zionism as part of it—was that you are taking actions that have no realistic chance of succeeding. As Ben-Gurion said, in Israel, anyone who does not believe in miracles is not a realist. Okay? So that is exactly this approach. It is an approach that basically says: this is false messianism, because what are you really saying? You are saying: since I am going to bring the messiah, miracles will be performed for me, and the Holy One, blessed be He, will help me, even though by realistic calculation I have no chance. That is false messianism; that is a messianic movement. One must not do that.

What are you basically supposed to do? According to the previous approaches, one should not act at all to bring the messiah. According to the third approach, which seems more plausible to me, it is permitted to act toward the coming of the messiah—but not to commit halakhic prohibitions, not to do actions that are themselves improper. In other words, bringing the messiah cannot justify an action that I would not otherwise do. And as part of that, in a more extreme form, not to take actions that have no realistic justification. It has to result from calculations of realpolitik. The messianic dimension is not supposed to take part in your deliberation. If your realistic judgment says not to do it, then don’t do it. If you do it in order to bring the messiah, counting on the Holy One to help you because this brings the messiah, that is a messianic movement. Okay?

Now, as an additional part of this, I need to shorten because we’re approaching the end. In the historical examples I can map the historical examples onto this map and show that these examples are basically divided according to the characteristics. There are messianic movements that violated Jewish law, there are messianic movements that were unrealistic, there are messianic movements that did things that were improper but did not contradict Jewish law. And one really can see that there are disputes over how to relate to these various such messiahs, these false messiahs, according to these types. I’m not going into details now, but you can see it in the writings of Sages throughout the generations and how they related to these movements.

I want to sharpen a point that arises from the map I described here, and I think it may lie at the center of contemporary movements. I think the center of the discussion around the messianism of Religious Zionism is really in the last types I described, but I’ll formulate it in a somewhat sharper, more focused way—I don’t know if more extreme. Look, there is for example a foundational story, yes, of Rabbi Herzog and the Brisker Rav. When the War of Independence broke out and they started shooting in Jerusalem, rumors spread that the Brisker Rav was about to flee the city. He was sitting in Jerusalem—Velvele, yes, the son of Rabbi Chaim—and was about to flee the city. Now Rabbi Herzog, who was the Chief Rabbi, feared the demoralization this would cause. The Brisker Rav was a very highly regarded figure, and therefore he went to him, came to him, in order to convince him not to flee. And the story goes that Rabbi Herzog came to the Brisker Rav and said to him: listen, we have a tradition handed down from our rabbis that the Third Temple will not be destroyed, so you have no reason to flee; we will win here. Okay? And the Brisker Rav answers him: and I have a tradition from my father that when people are shooting, you run away. Which is a wonderful story. A wonderful story because it so well represents these two approaches, perhaps better than anything else I can think of.

The Brisker Rav is not arguing with Rabbi Herzog about his tradition. I’m not sure the Brisker Rav would not accept Rabbi Herzog’s tradition. But he says: yes, but they’re shooting here. Leave me alone with all your traditions—what should one do according to realpolitik, or rather real security thinking? They’re shooting at you. So what, you’ll stay there because the Third Temple will not be destroyed? If they’re shooting, you run away. Again, I’m not getting into the question why not fight, why this or that—on the principled level, yes? If there’s nothing for you to do there militarily, should you flee or stay because the Third Temple will not be destroyed?

So the classic Lithuanian Haredi view says: realpolitik. If it’s dangerous, I go. Rabbi Herzog says: I make metaphysical calculations. If I have some kind of assurance that the Third Temple will not be destroyed, and that this is how I bring redemption, and all kinds of things like that—then I bring those considerations into my practical considerations. Meaning, I make decisions not only on the basis of realistic considerations and halakhic ones—of course, halakhic ones for me are realistic considerations, the considerations I am supposed to make even in peaceful times—but no: if I know that I am now riding a messianic wave, the Messiah is about to come, and certain actions need to be taken to help him come, then that is what I’m allowed to do, even though according to realpolitik and Jewish law, I’m not supposed to do it. That is exactly messianism, a messianic movement. A clear example of a messianic movement. Very clear. Because you are making decisions not on the basis of considerations—put differently, I would say, and it seems to me this is how the Jewish tradition, insofar as one can generalize, the mainstream of Jewish tradition, says unequivocally—that when you make decisions, you are supposed to make them on the basis of two things: realistic, human, security, psychological considerations, whatever they may be, and halakhic considerations. That’s it. Nothing else.

Anyone who adds to that all kinds of eschatological, metaphysical considerations, promises and traditions of one kind or another—I don’t know where that particular tradition comes from, but fine—even if it’s true. Not because it’s untrue. And you see that this motif has run through this whole series. I’m not arguing about whether these things are true. I’m arguing about whether these things—even if they are true, maybe they are true—whether they should be taken into account, whether they have standing in my decision-making. I have come back to that more than once in this series. And here it returns and connects with the matter of metaphysics.

In other words, the claim is this: the example of a messianic movement is nothing but a sharp and clear example of the entire topic I’ve discussed here, namely mysticism. The problem with a messianic movement is a fascination with mysticism—not problematic outcomes, and perhaps not even the falsehood. This mysticism could be true. Fascination with mysticism—that is what is called a messianic movement. And the flaw in a messianic movement is that very thing. The flaw is the fascination with mysticism.

Now what is fascination with mysticism? To engage in mysticism is certainly not something flawed. You can obligate it, reject it, whatever—but that is not the point. Engage in it, why not? That’s not the point. The point is when you take it and make it a tool that participates in your decision-making in life, in the world. That is what I mean by fascination with mysticism—not engaging in mysticism, but taking mysticism into account as part of your considerations. Okay? That is basically what I’m talking about. Yes? And now, of course, extend this to all the promises of kabbalists and rabbis and miracle-workers of one kind or another. All the people who take such things into account when making decisions—it’s basically the same thing. That is a religious problem, sometimes a halakhic one, maybe sometimes not halakhic, as I said about messianism—you can discuss whether it is a halakhic prohibition or not. Usually it isn’t halakhic. But basically this is the problem people see in false messianism: fascination with mysticism.

And fascination with mysticism basically means that you—think now about the map I sketched earlier. What did I say? I said that people take unrealistic actions, or maybe even prohibited ones, or actions that it is not accepted to do, that I would not do without taking into account the metaphysical, mystical, redemptive consideration. So what does that really mean? What underlies this whole map? That you take the metaphysical, eschatological calculation and use it as part of your considerations in decision-making. That is why, in extreme cases, you permit yourself to violate a prohibition; in less extreme cases, to do things that are not realpolitik, or things that are not accepted, or things you would not do without it. Again, I want to claim: the problem is not the non-realpolitik action. That is a risk that maybe violates “and live by them.” But that’s not the point. Messianism is a problem in and of itself. Every non-realpolitik action that is not realpolitik is an indication; it is not the purpose of the prohibition, it is not what defines the prohibition. Rather, if you took actions that were not correct on the level of realpolitik, that is an indication that your decision probably involved metaphysical considerations. And that is the problem. That is the problem with messianism—in the negative sense, yes?

That is why I say this is not connected to false messianism, because even if in the end this messianism is realized and it turns out that this really was the Messiah and he builds us the Temple—Bennett will be the Messiah, build the Temple, and the State of Israel will become a light unto the nations, okay? Redemption will be realized through the State of Israel—that still does not mean that Religious Zionism was not a messianic movement. It means only that it was not false messianism. But a messianic movement is evaluated through its own characteristics, not through the question of fulfillment and whether in the end it succeeds or not. Rather the question is whether you take metaphysical, eschatological considerations into account in your decision-making. That seems to me to be the definition of a messianic movement, insofar as I can understand it.

And in that sense, the Religious Zionist movement definitely does have dimensions of a messianic movement. Certain dimensions, because overall I think that in most streams the conduct is in fact more or less realpolitik. I don’t think Religious Zionism recommends suicidal steps or crazy steps in the majority view. Most groups and leaders of Religious Zionism, it seems to me, are not in that delusional wing. But yes, you can see that in the considerations involved in decision-making, this matter of “the beginning of redemption” and Messiah and all sorts of things like that, and “not stopping the messianic process,” definitely appears. It is present there. It is present. When you decide whether to cooperate with secular people or not cooperate with secular people, you can hear justifications like: yes, this is the way to bring the Messiah. In other words, actually it is not fitting to do this, but now, since we are in the final stage before redemption and this is how one brings the Messiah, then yes, one should do it. A consideration of that sort is a messianic consideration.

Again, independent of whether it is correct. Maybe one should cooperate with secular people—I think one should cooperate with them—but not because it brings the Messiah. Rather because one should cooperate with them for reasons that are entirely political and halakhic, considerations I would make without any connection to the Messiah, even if the state will eventually be destroyed and the Messiah won’t come. The moment you introduce eschatological, metaphysical reasons, it becomes a messianic movement. Therefore I say: it is not the bottom line, it is not what you do, but the justifications you bring in support of what you do. I think that is the most distilled definition I can find for a messianic movement.

Now here I really come to Menachem’s comment in the chat earlier. This characterizes both sides of the map. The Satmar opposition, and all the extreme anti-Zionist Haredi view—and by the way, not only the extreme one, the others too basically oppose on this plane, though they are more pragmatic. But in the polemical writings even of mainstream Haredism you will find the Three Oaths and all the discourse of Vayoel Moshe. Look at Rabbi Shach’s eulogy for the Satmar Rebbe when he died. You will see there that he was basically the pillar of fire going before the camp, and it was clear that in ideological terms Rabbi Shach identified with him, but practically he said one has to act differently. So that is in fact less messianic, because in practice he continues to act practically. But there is something in the view of that extreme anti-Zionist vanguard that is also found in central Haredism, let’s call it that.

Now what is happening there? After all, the dispute between Religious Zionism and anti-Zionist Haredism is over whether we are in the stage of “the beginning of redemption” or in the stage of “the footsteps of the Messiah.” Whether this is an action of the side of holiness or an action of the side of impurity. You understand that both sides rely on a metaphysical, eschatological analysis of reality. They formulate their relation to reality, including practical steps, on the basis of eschatological, metaphysical considerations. And that is true both of Religious Zionism and of anti-Zionist Haredism—both. That is what they share. That is why I have written more than once that one of the things that is very important to put on the table is what Religious Zionism and anti-Zionist Haredism have in common. What they have in common is that they take metaphysical considerations and translate them into practical decisions and ideologies. And it seems to me that one ought to object to what they both share, and to offer a more sensible, sane alternative that says: I have no idea whether we are in the beginning of redemption, the footsteps of the Messiah, or whatever other Aramaic phrase you like, which in any case nobody knows what it means. Rather, make decisions the way you would have made them in the twelfth century. Forget redemption or anti-redemption, Christ or anti-Christ. It makes no difference what metaphysical side stands behind this process. It doesn’t interest me. Even if you are right that it is all the work of Satan’s hands—what do I care? I want to discuss what I am obligated to do now, not who stands behind this person, what demons stand behind this one or that one. The demons do not interest me; what interests me are this one and that one. Even if that metaphysical diagnosis is true, it is not a consideration that should be taken into account in my decision-making. That is the meaning of not being part of a messianic movement.

To deal with the world according to accepted rules: realpolitik plus Jewish law. And reasonable, sensible considerations, ideologies, all the good things, values—excellent, of course they should play a role. But not metaphysics. Not metaphysical analyses of what stage on the road to redemption we are in. Not because they are incorrect. It has nothing to do with whether they are correct or not. Nobody knows whether they are correct or not—not those who support them and not those who oppose them. Both sides are talking nonsense. But that does not matter, because it has nothing to do with whether it is correct or not. The thesis I am presenting here is neither Haredi nor Religious Zionist. It is the third way, yes. I think one has to disagree with both of them, and it seems to me that once this option is presented to people as such, many, many people will find themselves identifying with it.

Today people somehow divide the map into either you are with us or against us. And each person is supposed to place himself—if he’s not with us then apparently he’s against us, or vice versa. And everyone keeps pumping us with the claim that there are only two poles, and everyone has to place himself in one of them. Either you are anti-Zionist or you are Religious Zionist. Religious Zionist meaning yes, eschatological, yes, this is the beginning of redemption; or this is the footsteps of the Messiah. And I say: I don’t care whether this is the beginning of redemption, the footsteps of the Messiah, or “May the One who brings salvation…” or any other Aramaic phrase you can find. It simply makes no difference to me. What matters is the question: what is happening here and what is the right way to act toward what is happening here? I look at the people and not at the demons behind them. And the question is how I should relate to these people. That is what matters. What do I care about all the demons?

Now in practice many people do behave this way. In practice, many people do behave this way, but the ideologies are still stuck in one of those two poles. Therefore people often think of themselves as weak for not clinging to ideology but rather being practical, pragmatic, even though most people are pragmatic—both Haredim and Religious Zionists. So I think that once this third way is placed on the map—and this is a good ending to this series on mysticism, because here we already see a practical implication for our own time—once this anti-mystical way is placed on the map as a practical path, and it is made clear that this is not opposition to mysticism but only putting mysticism in its proper place—if you think it’s true or not true, decide whatever you want, it doesn’t matter—but it is not supposed to take part in decision-making. Then one can kick to the winds the ideologues of Religious Zionism and of anti-Zionist Haredism, and remain with sane people.

And in that sense I think this discussion we had here about mysticism is very important. Very important practically, even though it sounds like something terribly airy and theoretical and what difference does it make anyway. Because all along I was careful not to take a position on the question whether it is true or not true. I kept trying to show why that question is not so important, whether it is true or not. So here is the strongest final blow: it is not important because it is not supposed to take part in my decision-making in any area. Except as thoughts I think to myself, as I analyze reality—you can also analyze reality with mystical tools, everything is fine. But in the end, in the end, I need to remain with an analysis of reality and work with that. If mysticism gives me inspiration, fine, that’s legitimate. Sources of inspiration can come from all sorts of places. But in the end you have to see what is actually happening here.

Take Har HaMor, for example, or that clique of theirs, who make mystical analyses. If they would just stay with the explanations they always give after the fact for everything that happens, by which in the end everything fits their theory, I’d have no problem with that. It’s nonsense, but I’d have no problem with it. The problem is that they make decisions based on that analysis. When they send letters of support to Moshe Katsav because they are convinced that the European Union and the New Israel Fund are persecuting him—their demons are simply so tangible that they make decisions in the world on the basis of that mysticism. If they just stayed with their nonsense pilpulim and explained everything that happens through the footsteps of the Messiah and the beginning of redemption—health to them, if they enjoy playing in Aramaic they don’t understand, that is perfectly fine, I have no problem with such people, to each his own hobby. But once you start making decisions on the basis of considerations of that kind, that is a cult. That is a cult in every sense. And therefore this is, again—there is no prohibition against being in a cult, I don’t know what that means, there is no formal prohibition on it—but it is a very dangerous and very problematic phenomenon.

Well, it seems to me that on this optimistic note we can finish this series. Whoever wants to comment still can, and if not, then we part until after Passover.

[Speaker B] Thank you very much.

[Speaker D] A comment—I asked a question in the chat: regarding the Holy One, blessed be He, promising the land to the Patriarchs and to the Jewish people, say when they left Egypt and the covenant—should that have any practical implication for us? No.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No practical implication whatsoever. The only practical implication is the commandment of settling the Land of Israel. Because it is a commandment. Jewish law has to be observed. Promises and things like that—that’s like Joseph, who wanted, yes, Nachmanides on Joseph, who says that he acted in order to realize the dreams that the Holy One, blessed be He, had sent him. So everyone cries out against Nachmanides: that wasn’t his job, to realize the dreams. If the Holy One, blessed be He, promises him things, He’ll carry them out, no problem. But I am supposed to make decisions based on what is right, not in order to realize God’s dreams. Even though they are dreams from the Holy One, blessed be He, and it’s true, it’s not that it isn’t true—but that’s His role. I am supposed to make my decisions according to my own tools.

[Speaker D] Hypothetically then, according to the view that there is no commandment to conquer the Land of Israel, what reason would he have to have

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] specifically as a Jew, for that Jew, toward the Land of Israel? He can say it’s not a commandment, but there is value in settling the Land of Israel—perfectly fine. So let’s not get into the issue of commandments. Values are legitimate.

[Speaker D] Fine, but what practical connection would he have, specifically as a Jew, that that Jew would have to the Land of Israel if in his view there is no commandment?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He still accepts that the Land of Israel is—yes, all those things they open with in Rabbi Kook, right? How does it go there? An essential acquisition of the nation—I don’t remember, some phrase like that. Doesn’t matter. If you believe that, then good for you. So you think there is value in settling the Land of Israel, in living in the Land of Israel; all of this is also anchored, I think, in the Torah, it’s not something absurd. There are many commandments dependent on the land. It doesn’t have to be Jewish law; values are also fine. But not a metaphysical analysis of processes. I need to help some metaphysical process that the Holy One, blessed be He, is advancing? If there is value, fight for the value—that’s fine. Even communism, by the way. Someone who believes in communism and strives to realize it—that is not a messianic movement, it’s the promotion of values. That’s perfectly fine. Sometimes the line is a bit thin, but it seems to me it still has two fairly clear sides. Thank you very much. Anyone else? Okay then, have a happy and kosher holiday, Sabbath peace, and after Passover we’ll continue.

[Speaker B] Thank you.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’ll publish the topic.