On that same point—do you think that someone born into an Arab people is likewise obligated to God to be Muslim? Is that too a covenant like the covenant of Sinai? After all, the nation accepted Islam. Or at least as a kind of “national vow”? God’s approval seems less relevant to me, since there is no change in God, not even at Mount Sinai. “And the Lord descended upon Mount Sinai” reflects, in the eyes of the observer, an awakening from below, not, God forbid, any change in God.

No one is obligated to uphold an imaginary covenant that never happened. If one bright morning the Jewish people decide that there’s a law that everyone has to stand on one leg for three minutes every morning, there’s no reason I should keep it (and even if the Knesset legislates it, I assume I still wouldn’t keep it).
If you think that God revealed Himself to Muhammad and commanded him to institute Islam, and you also think there was a binding covenant here, then yes—you are obligated to keep its commandments.

Why is this comparable to state law? Every citizen is obligated to preserve civil order. But how can a contract that my grandfather signed thousands of years ago obligate me today? What does it mean that “the contract was between us and the Holy One, blessed be He”? I didn’t sign it.

You didn’t sign. The public of which you are a part signed.
State laws obligate me not because I owe something to their content, but because I am part of the public that legislated them. And that’s true even if I wasn’t among the voters (for example, if the law was enacted a hundred years ago and was never changed).

By the way, in my youth, when I studied at Gush, I asked Rabbi Medan this question. I told him that in my opinion, by simple reasoning, a person should be able to withdraw. I thought maybe that is what karet is. A person really can leave the public and stop keeping commandments, and then he is cut off, and that’s it (he becomes a historical anecdote). A public doesn’t die, but individuals do.
He then told me that every beginning philosopher knows it’s better to be in a bad state than not to exist at all. Well, well—today, when I’m a bit less of a beginner, I’m not so sure about that…

Every autonomy may legislate laws for the public good. An individual citizen cannot take the law into his own hands, and he is obligated by what everyone else is obligated by. But by his own personal choice he is certainly allowed simply to get up and leave, to go somewhere where there are laws he likes, without paying a price like karet and the like—which isn’t nearly as nice as you made it sound. We are obligated and have no option at all to leave. Since when?
I too would rather not be than be in a bad state. God, of course, hooked me up to the IV drip of life, family, and environment, but I didn’t order any of this in the first place. Why am I obligated to Him now?

I didn’t understand two points—
A. What is the difference between the covenant of Sinai and the covenant of Muhammad? In both, the ones who signed are the people, and the Holy One, blessed be He, did nothing. The Holy One, blessed be He, did not change at Mount Sinai, and no desire was added to Him that was not already there. That would be a change in the Eternal, which is impossible. It was all a matter of the nation accepting it, and that’s also the case among the Muslims. Do you think the Holy One, blessed be He, changed at Mount Sinai in making the covenant?
B. If you are obligated to the collective, then why wouldn’t you accept a law to stand on one leg, but you would wave a lulav?

Moshe, why can’t he? He can. It’s just not proper, because he is signed onto a contract. In our case, the contract covers all of life. You can’t leave, because that’s what we signed. But if you prefer to be cut off—I assume that if you leave, that’s what will happen. Why do you care if you’re defined as a sinner? Do you want divine recognition of your right to sin? I’m not authorized to give you that.

Ofir, I already explained, and I’ll say it again. If there really was a covenant between the Holy One, blessed be He, and Muhammad and his people—then it really is the same thing. The question is whether there was or not. We are not obligated by fictions. I am obligated by the acceptance of the nation when it is done within the framework of a covenant with a second party. Or a covenant among ourselves. But I am not obligated by the whims of the nation.

What does “can” mean? And what does “not proper” mean? I believe there is a God and that He gives reward and punishment. If I “leave,” I’ll pay dearly for it, and not just “be cut off and that’s it.” You’re not authorized to give me divine recognition for sin, but you could, if you’d be so kind, help me understand in a convincing and non-oppressive way why I ought to keep the commandments—and, if possible, so that I might succeed in doing so with joy. I’m only asking, of course. Thank you!

Why fictions? If my whole family promised to offer a sacrifice to God—is that fiction? I really don’t understand how the Rabbi can think differently about Islam. What’s even the initial assumption that there’s fiction here? Did Muhammad not exist? Did people not accept his words? What exactly here could be fictional? And I repeat the question—what does it mean that you need a second party? What does it mean that God “agrees” to it? It’s very important to me to understand in what sense God did not want the covenant and then afterward did want it. It’s critical for me to understand whether this is not anthropomorphizing the Creator.

God didn’t “not want the covenant and then did” but rather planned from the outset to make the covenant then (that’s how it is described in the Torah, as a chain of events leading to the Exodus from Egypt).

To sharpen the point: God does not “agree” to the covenant but offers it. We agreed. If we had decided on our own to keep the commandments, that would not have been binding, and that’s exactly what happened with Muhammad.

Ofir,
I don’t understand the argument. The Torah explicitly writes that the Holy One, blessed be He, wants to be in a covenant with us, and the covenant obligates Him too. The only difference is that the Holy One, blessed be He, is still with us, so He is not obligated by virtue of being a member of the collective, but by virtue of His own self-obligation; whereas our ancestors are no longer with us, so our obligation stems from our being members of the collective. One could also add that the Torah is our life and the length of our days, and as Rabbi Akiva argued, just as fish do not live outside the sea, so too we have no life without the Torah. But that is really an additional layer.

To the Rabbi,
doesn’t “the generation accepted it again in the days of Ahasuerus” teach that each and every generation needs to accept the covenant מחדש of its own free will? (Obviously that is in response to the coercion at Mount Sinai, but still…)

Moshe, I explained as much as I could. There’s no point in repeating it again. You didn’t ask me to persuade you to be happy with the commandments, but why you are obligated to keep them. Those are two completely different questions. I answered the second, and for the first maybe it would be better to go to a psychologist. I don’t have prescriptions for happiness.

Ofir,
I feel like I’m writing to a wall. I explained again and again. If your family commits itself to the Flying Spaghetti Monster, that does not obligate you. That’s all.

Is that really how one answers a distressed person? I’ll ask the question again, without the bit about joy [although even the biblical command to rejoice in the commandments can be understood in the framework of your rationalist view].

What does “can” mean? And what does “not proper” mean? I believe there is a God and that He gives reward and punishment. If I “leave,” I’ll pay dearly for it, and not just “be cut off and that’s it.” You’re not authorized to give me divine recognition for sin, but you could, if you’d be so kind, help me understand in a convincing way why I ought to keep the commandments. I’m only asking, of course. Thank you!

Moshe, I truly don’t understand the question.
I explained that we signed a contract. All of us. No one is entitled to leave a contract that he is signed onto. A contract with a state is conditional on your being a resident; otherwise you have no obligation to it, and it has none to you. But the contract with the Holy One, blessed be He, exists always and everywhere (because His state is the entire universe). He sustains you, and you commit yourself to Him. That is something you cannot leave. In that sense, this situation is similar to a state.
I wrote to you that according to your reasoning, which sounds plausible to me, you can declare a timeout and abandon it. Say, “I want neither your honey nor your sting.” Either way: if it makes sense to you that one can do that, then apparently the Holy One, blessed be He, would agree as well. And if it doesn’t make sense, then presumably it will become clear to you why not. But there is a presumption that He does not come with grievances against His creatures, and therefore you will not be punished for a transgression committed unwittingly or under duress.

As for joy, it has nothing to do with my rationalist view. If someone doesn’t feel joy, I have nothing to say to him other than suggesting he go for counseling. I’m just not the right address for that. I didn’t say joy has no value. That is already a different discussion.
By the way, I wrote that entirely seriously and not sarcastically. So yes: that is indeed how one answers the distressed.

I understand. So it’s like this: there is a kind of global state here that obligates every citizen to honor his signature. Unlike another state, where you can simply emigrate, here there is nowhere to emigrate to. The founders’ signature is a “no return” signature. As for the “either way,” I know there is no such option, and I partly understand a certain logic in the idea that not everyone can just leave whenever he wants, because God can “shut down the whole shop.” That logic doesn’t feel persuasive enough to me internally.
In any case, the Holy One, blessed be He, will in fact come with grievances in such cases, because this is not a matter of mistake or duress.
I’d be glad if you could sharpen the point further. This really is an existential question that has given me no rest for quite a long time, and on the other hand it’s a question for which I haven’t found a classic rabbi to answer me.

I’ll start from the end. It is duress, because you did what you thought was right. Duress in matters of opinion is duress like any other duress.
Beyond all that, take into account that God knows better than you what is good for you. You do not have the full picture. Therefore, if you think His service is not good for you, you are probably mistaken. It’s like a child who cannot leave his parents’ home even though he doesn’t like the way they run it (and he also didn’t choose to come into the world; they brought him into it). So too there is no need to give you an opportunity to change your mind, because this is a contract signed for your own benefit, and He knows better than you that it is for your benefit.

Sorry for getting personal. Are you actually able to be persuaded by the argument that God knows better than you what is good for you, and that on that basis a whole system of obligation can be built?
On the one hand, it’s a bit annoying. It reminds me of the mashgiach who used to calm down students about their questions in faith with the brilliant argument that “surely the Vilna Gaon or Rabbi Akiva Eger thought about these questions, and nevertheless they believed”—as if to say, you don’t have to understand, just believe that there is something smarter than you here. And personally I feel, as I’ve learned a lot from you [perhaps indirectly], that my own intellect is stronger than anything else, and I have to understand and be persuaded by my own intellect why I am obligated to His commandments, and why sometimes I even have to suffer for it.
On the other hand, there is some logic in the idea that God cannot reveal all the cards, because transparency lowers the value, perhaps lowers the force of free choice, perhaps this is what is meant by “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter.”
Somehow I feel myself wavering between these two sides.
More power to you for your patience.

First of all, it is completely obvious that He knows better than you. Do you disagree with that? At most, you can claim that you have a desire, and perhaps even an obligation, to understand why it is better for you. But if you’re looking for reassurance, then in my opinion the knowledge that God knows better than you do does reassure distress.
Beyond that, I think you have a mistake here. Rational thinking does not mean that one has to understand everything in order to act. Not at all. One has to be persuaded that it is true. And that is not at all the same thing. When a doctor prescribes me medicine, I take it because I trust his knowledge and I do not have such knowledge. Do you think that makes me irrational? I definitely am not. Since I know I lack medical knowledge, I rely on the one who has it. An irrational person is someone who takes medicine from someone else who is not a doctor without being persuaded that it helps or that he understands it better than he himself does.
Most of the commandments in the Torah I do not understand (what benefit they have). But since I trust the Holy One, blessed be He, I assume they have benefit, and that is enough for me to keep them. Rational in the strictest sense.

I don’t think the problem with revelation is necessarily transparency. It could also be that not every mind is capable of taking it in. Maimonides writes in The Guide for the Perplexed that transparency specifically increases His honor, and he argues against those who think that unexplained scriptural decrees increase the honor of Heaven. He proves this from the verse in which the nations will say about us: “Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people.” If we do things that make no sense, how would they say that?

Honorable Rabbi:
What does the Flying Spaghetti Monster have to do with anything? I was talking about commitment to God. Allah is the God of Israel, as far as I know—and correct me if I’m wrong—you too believe in some sense in His “existence.” Why distort my question like that? If you want to sharpen my words by exaggerating them, at least shift a variable that I actually changed in the comparison between Judaism and Islam… It’s the same God, and Jewish sages in the Middle Ages engaged with Muslim views regarding His definition.
Y.D.:
What do you mean by “God was interested”? Can you explain? Are you not attributing change to God in your words? If God is eternal, how can He begin to be interested? How can He regret in His heart? How can He go down to see whether the outcry is as great as reported? Clearly the reality changed, not God. That is, human beings sinned, and so too “And the Lord descended upon Mount Sinai” must refer to a change that Israel underwent in the contemplation of the fire, in hearing the sound of the shofar, in the earthquake, in the lightning and thunder… They felt the presence of something greater than themselves and entered into a covenant. But there was no change in God. God does not need us and does not want us, philosophically speaking, and therefore ethically as well. Only on the imagistic level, which is suited to awaken the ear of the common people—and the heart of every person studying the verses, because the heart, even of a sage, is stirred by images just like that of a simple person.
By the way, “to create” in the Bible can also mean paving a way, as in: “and mark out a hand, at the head of the road to the city mark it out” (Ezekiel 21:24). In general, the section of Genesis was said about the earth and not about the whole universe, so there is no necessity that the Torah is speaking about absolute creation ex nihilo.

(Regarding the Genesis passage—of course also the stars in relation to the earth.)

I didn’t distort anything. The difference I was talking about is that among the Muslims no covenant was made, whereas among us one was. And the fact that they imagine there was does not obligate anyone. Exactly like making a covenant with the Flying Spaghetti Monster. And I told you: if you think a covenant was indeed made with them, then yes, it is the same thing as אצלנו.
I really do not understand what is so complicated here.

He (Ofir Gal-Ezer) is arguing that the covenant of the Jewish people is one-sided; that is, we decided on our own to keep commandments and God has nothing to do with it (because otherwise that would mean He changed His mind and He doesn’t do things like that, blah blah blah). Therefore, any acceptance that a nation takes upon itself in relation to God (for example, to pray five times a day in the case of the Muslims) is equivalent to the acceptance of the Jewish people.

His mistake, of course, is that God did in fact initiate the covenant with the Jewish people, and that is not actually a theological problem.

More power to you, Rabbi. And sorry, Ofir, that I kind of latched onto your topic a bit. You simply put into writing things that have been sitting in my heart for a long time, and for that I thank you.