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Hasidic Jews in House

On last week's episode of House, patient of the week was a woman who became suddenly ill at her wedding. The catch: the patient was "a music producer living in the fast lane until she converted to Hasidic Judaism."

I'd heard much about this episode, but hadn't seen it when it aired; it recently became available online and I got a chance to watch it.

House is insistent that people don't change. He is adamant that the woman's religious renewal is related to her illness. House characterizes religion as both mental illness and masochism before it is revealed that, in fact, the woman's illness was unrelated to her choice to become Orthodox. Throughout the episode, there is a parallel between House's diagnosis of the woman's illness, and his argument with Wilson regarding his girlfriend (known on the show as CTB). At the end of the episode, House consents to Wilson dating CTB, even though it will damage their friendship. Wilson accuses House of changing, but House continues to insist that people don't change.

I think House's point is: people don't change; we may make changes, sometimes even drastic ones, to our lives and lifestyles, but those changes are often only superficial, done in service to something deeper in our psyche that is unchangeable. The woman's illness, although unrelated to her religious changes, doesn't indicate that people do change. Becoming Orthodox, for her, was simply following the same inner compulsion that she had been following her whole life. Although her life may seem drastically different to the casual observer, when looked at as a whole, her entire life's actions would fit into a single context. This is also illustrated by the Dr. Taub, who left a career as a plastic surgeon to become House's intern; although a drastic change in career, the change was preserve his marriage, to prevent change. House's change of heart for Wilson is simply based on the fact that he now feels that the relationship is good for his friend.

On note of trivia: the actress who plays the patient of the week is Laura Silverman, sister of comedienne Sarah Silverman.

Hobbes and the Jews

Philosophy Bites' latest podcast interviews Quentin Skinner on Hobbes' view of the State. It's really interesting. I'm not really as adept a student of philosophy as I'd like, but it seems like Hobbes was, more or less, attempting to transition what had been traditionally a theological system of government into a humanized system. The idea of the absolute rule of the sovreign is very reminiscent of the narrative of Rosh HaShannah.

On a related note, Hobbes states in Leviathan: "Do not that to another, which thou wouldst not have done to thyself," which is notable as it follows Hillel's, rather than the Gospel's, formulation of the Golden Rule. There's also a book that explores the relationship between Maimonides, Hobbes and Nietzsche. The author is a frum Jew and a student of R. Soloveitchik.

The Narrative of the Days of Judgement and Atonement

In the beginning, Man rejects Divine authority in favor of his own reason and autonomy. This leads to all sorts of problems for Man, most of which involve other people being unhappy. At some point, a small group of Men, related by blood and recently emancipated from the tyrannical authority of an oppressive despot, subjugate themselves (not completely willingly) to Divine authority and accept upon themselves to abide by God's Law. This goes somewhat well, but, as with most things, there's a few bumps along the way; what becomes clear is that Man is locked in a constant battle, between obedience to a higher power and asserting himself as an autonomous individual; it is taken as a given that disobedient Man is not good.

As such, once a year (on what is considered the anniversary of the initial rejection of Divine authority), that nation gathers to reestablish their willing subjugation to Divine authority by submitting themselves, their deeds, their legal record, if you will, for judgment before God. As they are inevitably found lacking both on a collective and individual level in some aspect of their adherence and devotion to Divine authority and law, they enter into a plenary period of repentance, culminating in a final day of atonement for their grievances. By doing so they, to some extent, make whole the relationship with the Divine and reaffirm their acceptance of Divine Law. They begin a celebration of communion with their King by dwelling in his house for a period of time, in happiness and free from the concerns brought about by their finite nature.

Philosophy Bites Podcast on Avicenna

If you've got 13 minutes, check out the Philosophy Bites podcast episode with Peter Adamson discussing the Muslim philosopher Avicenna. Besides the fact that his philosohpy is pretty interesting, Avicenna is quoted many times by Maimonides in the Guide.

In general, the Philosophy Bites podcast is excellent.

Sacrifices in the Third Temple and the Secrets of the Guide

In Book 3, Chapter 32 of the Moreh Nevuchim (Friedlander translation available from Wikisource, which will have to suffice until the copyright on Pines' version expires), Maimonides writes:

The Israelites were commanded to devote themselves to His service; comp." and to serve him with all your heart" (ibid. xi. 13):" and you shall serve the Lord your God" (Exod. xxiii. 25);" and ye shall serve him" (Dent. xiii. 5). But the custom which was in those days general among all men, and the general mode of worship in which the Israelites were brought up, consisted in sacrificing animals in those temples which contained certain images, to bow down to those images, and to burn incense before them; religious and ascetic persons were in those days the persons that were devoted to the service in the temples erected to the stars, as has been explained by us. It was in accordance with the wisdom and plan of God, as displayed in the whole Creation, that He did not command us to give up and to discontinue all these manners of service; for to obey such a commandment it would have been contrary to the nature of man, who generally cleaves to that to which he is used; it would in those days have made the same impression as a prophet would make at present if he called us to the service of God and told us in His name, that we should not pray to Him, not fast, not seek His help in time of trouble; that we should serve Him in thought, and not by any action.

For this reason God allowed these kinds of service to continue; He transferred to His service that which had formerly served as a worship of created beings, and of things imaginary and unreal, and commanded us to serve Him in the same manner; viz., to build unto Him a temple; comp." And they shall make unto me a sanctuary" (Exod. xxv. 8): to have the altar erected to His name; comp." An altar of earth thou shalt make unto me" (ibid. XX. 2 1): to offer the sacrifices to Him; comp." If any man of you bring an offering unto the Lord" (Lev. i. 2), to bow down to Him. and to burn incense before Him. He has forbidden to do any of these things to any other being; comp." He who sacrificeth unto any God, save the Lord only, he shall be utterly destroyed * (Exod. xxii. 19):" For thou shalt bow down to no other God" (ibid. xxxiv. 14). He selected priests for the service in the temple; comp." And they shall minister unto me in the priest's office" (ibid. xxviii. 41). He made it obligatory that certain gifts, called the gifts of the Levites and the priests, should be assigned to them for their maintenance while they are engaged in the service of the temple and its sacrifices.

By this Divine plan it was effected that the traces of idolatry were blotted out, and the truly great principle of our faith, the Existence and Unity of God, was firmly established; this result was thus obtained without deterring or confusing the minds of the people by the abolition of the service to which they were accustomed and which alone was familiar to them.

This famous passage is used by some as a proof that Maimonides would not require sacrifices in the third Temple. There's a few problems with this, however. First is that in Laws of Kings, Rambam states that in the Messianic era, there will be a third Temple, and that sacrifices will be offered there. While bringing a proof from the Yad to contradict the Moreh is not necessarily a valid approach, since Maimonides makes a disclaimer that he will intentionally make explicit contradictions with things he has written in his earlier works, and only those with the proper understanding will be able to discern his true opinion, nevertheless, one of Maimonides foundational tenets is that the Law of Moses will not change. As such, it would seem that, although Maimonides feels that the ideal form of worship would not be through sacrifices, since the Law of Moses was implemented in such a fashion, we are tied to that implementation.

Another issue: the logical deduction made from the above passage is that since sacrifices are not the ideal form of worship, then in a future Temple, being that we have now progressed and are accustomed to a more appropriate form of worship, the older, less-than-ideal forms would be put aside. There's just one problem with this logic: the Temple itself is listed as one of those less-than-ideal modes of worship. The question, then, is not whether or not Maimonides would require sacrifices in the third Temple, but whether or not Maimonides felt a third Temple itself would even be historical reality. Granted, in Maimonides depiction of the the Messianic era in the Yad, he leaves open the possibility of there not being a Temple, there's no getting around the fact that from a logical perspective, asking whether or not sacrifices would be extant is a invalid argument.

A final note: if you've heard rumor of the secret opinion of the Guide, of how Maimonides hid his true opinion in statements that seem to coincide with the accepted, common opinion, while in actuality he is covertly communicating an idea that is very much different from, and often at odds with, the norm, the above quoted passage provides a good example of such a "secret" opinion. Read it carefully, and you will learn Maimonides true opinion.

Quantum Inderterminacy Does Not Equal Free Will, Part 2

A few weeks back, I posted my thoughts on why the fact of quantum indeterminacy does not provide grounds (or "wiggle room") for free will. Last night, while perusing one of my favorite books, The Pig That Wants to Be Eaten, I came across #9, entitled, "Bigger Brother" (you have to log in to Amazon to use their reader, the piece is a short three pages). I'm tempted to copy the whole thing, but that would probably be a breach of copyright, so I'll just give you the upshot:

The appeal to quantum indeterminacy won't do. Even if it is true that quantum theory introduces more unpredictability than our thought experiment has allowed, all it would do is replace an entirely predictable causal process with one that contains unpredictable, random elements. But our actions are no more free if they are the result of random causal processes than if they are the result of strictly determined ones. Free will appears to require that we escape the physical causal chain altogether. And that, it seems, we cannot do.

It's basically what I was saying, only clearer. The end result would not be what we're looking for in terms of free will. Instead, we would need to show that, for all intents and purposes, the equivalent of a miracle takes place each time a free choice is made.

Question: If a tree falls in the woods, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

Answer: No, it does not.

Preemptive Justice in the Torah

In the book The Minority Report (The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick, Vol. 4), by science fiction legend Philip K. Dick (and the subsequent film starring Tom Cruise), future criminals are arrested before they commit a crime. In Dick's future world, new precognition technology allows law enforcement to see into the future and stop a bad guy before he commits a heinous act. The bad guys are locked up without every having committed a crime. I won't spoil the book for you, it's an excellent read, but it does bring up an interesting question: is it just to hold someone morally responsible for a crime he has yet to commit?

The instinctive response is that this is unjust. How can one be convicted of a crime without having done anything? However, in fact, we do already punish some individuals for only thinking or planning on committing a crime; conspiracy to commit murder and reckless driving are some examples where we punish even though nothing happened. In these cases, the behavior exhibited shows that the offender would have committed a greater offense, and so punishment is justified even though nothing was actually done (part of this depends on how you view the function of punishment, but that's a post for another day).

Beyond this, however, a deeper question arises: wouldn't it be possible that, although this person planned on committing a crime, that they would, at the last minute, for some inexplicable reason, decide not to? How can we punish, or hold responsible, someone who might, at the last minute, change their mind?

Of course, this gets into a broader discussion of man's free will, or perhaps his perception of his free will, which is a topic for another time. The question I would like to address here is: what is the Torah's perspective?

I was a bit surprised to find that the Torah, in fact, addresses this topic directly. In Devarim 21:18-21, the Torah states:

18 If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son, that will not hearken to the voice of his father, or the voice of his mother, and though they chasten him, will not hearken unto them; 19 then shall his father and his mother lay hold on him, and bring him out unto the elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place; 20 and they shall say unto the elders of his city: 'This our son is stubborn and rebellious, he doth not hearken to our voice; he is a glutton, and a drunkard.' 21 And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die; so shalt thou put away the evil from the midst of thee; and all Israel shall hear, and fear.

The famous case of the Ben Sorer, the Rebellious Child. The Mishnah goes to great lengths to show that a case of Ben Sorer is extremely unlikely to ever occur; the parameters for qualification are so specific that the Talmud goes so far as to propose that the whole parsha is simply a thought experiment. But what is the thought?

The Mishneh in the eight chapter of Sanhedrin makes this clear:

בן סורר ומורה, יידון על שם סופו--ימות זכאי, ואל ימות חייב: שמיתתן של רשעים--הניה להם, והניה לעולם; ולצדיקים--רע להם, ורע לעולם.

The Rebellious Child is judged by his future deeds; better for him to die in merit, than to die after committing a crime. For death, for evildoers is a benefit to them, and to the world, while death for a righteous individual is bad for them, and bad for the world.

We see that the purpose of the passage of the Ben Sorer is to teach that, in certain circumstances, we are so certain of the future path of a particular individual, we take preemptive action to prevent it from occurring. If we have enough information as to his background, which will inevitable inform his future actions, the Torah tells us that we can, with certainty, take preemptive measures. In the case of the Rebellious Child, those circumstances are so many and specific to the point that they will never happen, but that's not the point; for some people, the Torah feels, their past completely determines their future actions, with no hope of their exercising free will to change it. In this case, it's better to act preemptively than to let the evil transpire.

As further proof that preemptive justice is the point of the parsha of Ben Sorer, take a look at the last two mishnayos in the eighth chapter of Sanhedrin. The penultimate mishnah uses the same language that was previously used to describe the Ben Sorer: "A tunneling burglar is judged by his future deeds." In this case, as the burglar has gone to so much trouble to break into a house, if confronted by the owner, he won't hesitate to commit murder. One is, therefore, allowed to kill a tunneling burglar without fear of reprisal [this case is interesting in that the burglar is destined to commit murder only if he is confronted; so there is a potential that he will not do anything - yet preemptive justice is still sanctioned]. And the final mishnah lists those the cases where one is allowed to kill another person to prevent them from harming another, the classic example of which is the rodef, one who is chasing another person with intent to kill. Again, the example shows the sanction, in this case, of preemptive action to prevent a crime from being committed.

As strange as it may sound, we see that preemptive justice is sanctioned in specific cases by the Torah. When an individual's past, a combination of his biology and experiences, unfold in specific ways, their future actions are certain, beyond the realm of choice. In these cases, the Torah instructs that it is better to prevent the certain future event from taking place, than to allow events to unfold on their own.

Quantum Indeterminacy Does Not Equal Free Will

In the comments of my last post on free will vs. determinism, Moishe Potemkin brought up a good question that I think bears further examination. Moishe's comment:

I would hesitate to "presume" determinism once it has been proven false by quantum physics.

Briefly, quantum physics has revealed that, at the molecular level, events that are thought to be causal in nature turn out to, in fact, be statistical. Read more on quantum indeterminacy if you're interested; the important point is that, at the quantum level, there is no such thing as determinism. The supposition is that this indeterminacy provides a basis for free will in the mind.

The problem is is that it doesn't. Even if we could show some kind of connection between physical brain states and cognitive decisions, we must examine what kind of "free will" we would be left with if based on quantum indeterminacy. An indeterminate free will would be random, erratic and unpredictable. The individual exercising such a free will would not appear to us to be acting in any rational fashion. What we are looking for in free will is not the potential for any random occurrence to present itself at any time, but a reasoned, rational intellect exercising a will that can make a decision independent of antecedent conditions. Quantum indeterminism does not provide the basis for this kind of free will.

In case I said that badly, here's a bit more of a professional approach to the subject.

A Short Discourse on Determinism and Free Will

Approches to the question of free will (does Man have it, or not) can be divided into three basic categories:

• Determinism: everything in the visible universe is entirely determined by causal laws. What ever happens, including actions taken by Man, they are attributable to some set of antecedent causes, be they biological, psychological or theological.


• Libertarianism: some, not necessarily all, actions are done completely free of causal laws. The individual is the sole, decisive cause of the action.


• Compatabilism (also known as soft determinism): a combination of the two previous positions, which accepts determinism but Man can still be said to be free in so far as he can still act voluntarily.

I don't want to get into the ins and outs of each position here, you can find that in Wikipedia using the links above, or pickup Introduction to Philosophy, edited by Louis P. Pojman. My personal feeling is that determinism is the most likely of the three positions. It wins out on both logical and empirical grounds. Libertarianism, if you dig into it, is mostly based on arguments made from theological or emotional premises, which is all well and good, but doesn't make for a very cogent real-world argument. Soft determinism has many forms, so it's kind of hard to go into detail as to all the reasons why the theory doesn't quite work. Quickly: arguments from semantics, that try to redefine what it means to act freely, are a cop-out, and arguments that attributes free will to second-order volitions are faulty as one could simply claim that someone is predisposed, either biologically or psychologically (or even divinely), to have such a second-order volition, in which case, their wanting to want something is not their own free choice. Determinism itself does not present an air-tight case, but I think of the three it's the least assailable.

After discussing free will, determinism and compatibilism, it is only natural to turn to a discussion of moral responsibility. And from there, things usually progress to a discussion of theories of punishment. I hope to get into this later; for now, I want to take a closer look at determinism and attempt to distinguish it from it's cousin, fatalism.

Fatalism is "the doctrine that no matter what you (or anyone else) do, certain events will occur. For example, if it is fixed by the stars, god or dates that one will die in an airplane crash on a given date, no matter what you do, even if you stay away from airplanes, that event will take place." Fatalism is usually distinguished from determinism in that fatalism does not accept that humans can intervene, whereas determinism is fully accepting that Man can influence the antecedent states that lead up to future decisions.

I would argue, however, given the definition of determinism, that this is a false distinction, and that really there is no difference between determinism and fatalism. Part of the doctrine of determinism is that, if we were capable of comprehending all the various bits of data that contribute to a decision, we would be able to reliably predict someone's actions. For example, I am about to choose between two types of soup at a restaurant. If one knew enough about me, including my entire history of experiences of eating, the past and present state of my digestive system and how that affects my psychology, and that I once got violently ill from a bad bowl of French onion soup, one could predict with absolute certainty which soup I would pick. The only reason my choice appears to be uncertain is that the outsider does not have enough information to accurately predict the outcome.

Now, since we are accepting determinism, which holds that my current state is fully attributable to previous states; and, in turn, each of those states are fully attributable to states previous to them, and so on, one should have been able, given enough information, to predict, on the day I was born, what soup I would have picked on that fateful night in the restaurant! (Not to mention the fact that it should have been possible to predict that I would be in the restaurant that night, and who my date would have been). But that's exactly the same as what fatalism would say, only fatalism would base the statement on some sort of mystical or metaphysical intuition, but essentially they are the exact same claim. Therefore, there really is no difference between determinism and fatalism.

Now, one who would make a distinction between determinism and fatalism might say that the difference would be that perhaps it was my date's decision to go to a specific restaurant, and not my own. Meaning, there was input into my decision that came from outside of myself, from a third party. Fatalism would say that no matter what I or anyone else did, I would have chosen the split pea soup that night. Whereas determinism would say given all the pre-existing conditions in your life up to this point, including those by others that are outside of my control, that contributed to my choosing the pea soup. Had those outside conditions not been present, I might have done something different (although, I can tell you, there's no way I would have ever chosen the French onion soup).

This too, however, is a false distinction, because determinism applies not only to me, but to my date as well. So, given enough information, one could have predicted, at the time of my birth, that on a given date in the future, I would choose the pea soup. It doesn't matter that part of that decision was due to an outside entity injecting information into my set of pre-existing conditions; that person's actions and choices could also be known a priori due to the same rules of determinism. Granted, this is a massive amount of information to wrap one's head around, but what it all means is that there is absolutely no difference between fatalism and determinism. If a divine entity relays information regarding a future event, or it is predicted by feeding all the pre-existing conditions for myself and everyone in the whole world into some giant computer, it's exactly the same thing.

I am planning on writing more on determinism and free will, particularly how taking a determinist approach can be reconciled with moral responsibility and punishment. I would also like to attempt to outline the Torah's position on this subject, but that's really a massive topic, the best I can hope for is presenting a series of narratives/cases that show different positions. A related question: does anyone know of any books or texts that outline sources for how the Torah approaches philosophical topics like free will? Kind of like a Piskei Teshuvos, but for philosophy? If anyone could point me to something, I would be much obliged. I have a few books that detail the works of various Rishonim and how they individually approached philosophical topics, but it doesn't really get into concrete examples from Tanach or Talmud, which is what I'm really looking for.

Da'as Torah, The Zohar and Other Assorted Thoughts

On The Main Line has a great post on a new journal article by Menachem Kellner entitled Maimonides Agonist: Disenchantment and Reenchantment in Modern Judaism. It's a long post, worth reading, and brought to mind a number of thoughts.

First, the issue of da'as Torah and just how historically normative it is. I'll just add that if you consider the explanation of Genesis that we've been throwing around here (in short: that Adam eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil was Man asserting his prerogative to "know" morality by force of his own reason, and so was an inherent rejection of Divine authority) then it's clear that some kind of recognition of rabbinic authority (not necessarily modern-day da'as Torah) must be part and parcel of traditional Judaism.

Regarding the nature of da'as Torah, S. writes:

As far as I can tell that is the innovation of Daas Torah as a prescriptive ideology: the idea that a rabbi who spends the bulk of his time teaching Torah to 20 year bachelors is inherently better suited to practical leadership of the wider community than a rabbi who has street smarts, even if their Torah scholarship is otherwise equal.

Perhaps this is a result of galus, and the lack of a concrete reality in which the halachic reality can be realized. The subsequent focus of learning becomes segregated from the real world, more idealistic than practical or political. Very reminiscent of Halachic Man; and, in contrast, the Shalem Center and the Azure Journal work very hard at countering this perspective by focusing on reacquainting halacha with a political reality (in the Land/State of Israel).

It's interesting to consider the roots of this attitude: one would assume that it is Maimonidean, since it's more rational. But the article Kellner presents posits Maimonides as more practical. I haven't quite puzzled it all out yet.

One last comment: it hadn't occured to me of the import of the debate over the authorship of the Zohar as it pertains the traditional "proof" of the authenticity of the Torah, but it's a perfect example of why that argument falls flat.

The Akeidah and Morality

R. Ezra Bick, via KMTT (Yeshivat Gush Etzion's podcast), is giving a series of shiurim on the Akeidah. ">The first installment addresses the nature of morality through the lens of the Akeidah. It is excellent, I listened to it three times yesterday.

R. Bick uses Euthyphro's Dilemma to explicate the nature of morality (are things Good because God says so, or does God simply command that which is Good). If you recall, I've discussed this before in the context of Genesis, AddeRabbi and I had a lengthy discussion about it in our first podcast as well.

R. Bick delineates three positions, the first two based on Euthyphro's Dilemma:

1. What God says is Good - "good" as an independent ideal is really non-existent, that which is Good is only that which is commanded by God; subsequently, Man has no moral capacity whatsoever. In addition, evil can not be said to exist, since if something is God's will, it is good. Maimonides identifies this as the doctrine of the Ashariya (a group of Muslim philosophers), and, in R. Bick's opinion is antithetical to Judaism.


2. God commands which is Good - the problem here is that, essentially, one has "two gods;" even more so, one could say that God is subservient to the Good. This creates a dualism which is also problematic from a Jewish perspective, since God is subordinate to Good.

The final position, which R. Bick brings from Maimonides, is based on an analysis of the interaction between God and Avraham in Parshas Vayera. When God informs Avraham of His plans to destroy Sodom, Avraham argues, insisting that it would be unjust for God to kill the righteous alongside the wicked. Therefore, we see that Man can discern that which is Good, using his intellect. At the Akeidah, however, Avraham is forced to accept the decree of God despite his moral compass telling him that it is wrong. The resolution is in understanding God as One, therefore, God does not simply convey that which is Good through his commandments, but He is the Good. I'm not sure I fully understand this position, but it would seem to equate the idea of God not with a Being, but with Morality.

I would like to propose an alternate understanding of the events in Vayera, along the same lines. The question here is not whether Man can make moral estimations; we know that he can, as he ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. When Avraham challenges God's plan, based on his own moral estimations, what begins is a series of encounters that are meant to teach Avraham that, despite his moral estimations, he must subject them to the Will of God. The culmination of this is the Akeidah. Avraham feels it is immoral, but subjugates his will in order to carry out the Divine command. In other words, it is a given that Man has a moral capacity, the ability to reason that which is Good. But he must learn to deny himself that privilege under certain circumstances (and perhaps trust that God would not cause him to committ an immoral act).

It is intersting to note that, despite Avraham's protestations, nothing really changed. God had decided to destroy Sodom, and Avraham begins bargining based on the number of righteous in the city. In the end, Avraham concedes that Sodom should indeed be destroyed, that it was in fact good to do so. The same is true by the Akeidah; nothing, in the end, immoral was actually perpetrated. This is evidence that Man's moral reasoning is, at the very least, on par with God's. The question becomes one of power and authority, not one of capacity.

One final asmachta to the idea that Man indeed has the capacity to reason morality: in the Talmud, when attempting to discern a precept, we fall back on a verse from the Torah, only if we can not logically deduce the precept. We first appeal to svarah, logic, and only afterwards look to the revealed text for an answer.

I think one thing is clear: I should have gone to Gush. Or, perhaps, I should go to Gush now.

Good God!

We're going to have several posts from The Pig That Wants to Be Eaten; I'm only a few pages in and it is already one of my favorite books of all time.

Question #8 is what's known as the Euthyphro Dilemma, found in Plato's Euthyphro:

Is what is moral commanded by God because it is moral, or is it moral because it's commanded by God?

It may seem like just a bunch of tricksy double-talk, but the difference between the two statements is really quite stark. There's a few ways to try to explain, the best I can do without a whole set of qualifications is that the latter opinion would mean that, if God commanded it, an act such as killing an innocent child would be considered moral (or good). According to the former opinion, some knowable, reasoned moral standard exists and is independent of God; we may receive this moral standard from him, but we are also able, through the power of our own reason, to discern it for ourselves.

I don't want to get into the ins and outs of the dilemma; instead, I'd like to suggest using it as a model for understanding Genesis 2. Man, before eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, related to God as the good. There was no notion of seperating out Good from God. Upon partaking of the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, however, Man was now able to discern and reason the Good on his own (astute students of Genesis 2-3 will recall both the snake's and God's statements that, after eating from the Tree, Man was "like Elohim." It is not coincidental, I think, that Elohim is the name used in Genesis 1 to describe the creative/judgemental nature of godliness, seeing that things are "good," etc.).

I haven't had much time to digest the further ramifications of this interpretation; first things first, of course, is to posit it against Maimonides interpretation in the beginning of the Guide. I'm pretty sure they are quite contradictory, Maimonides characterizing pre-Lapsarian Man as the rationalist par-excellance. I do know that the topic of the Rav's thesis was that Maimonides was really a Platonist, not an Aristotilean; those familiar with Maimonides discussion of the three opinions on the creation of the world in time might also notice a similarity between the Platonic existence of matter and the Platonic existence of a moral standard independent of God (I really, really haven't thought this last one through at all).

From the Archives: Korach, Nietzsche and Democrary

A few years back, I wrote a post about Korach and Nietzsche. Therein, I mentioned that I would be writing up someone else's explanation of Korach in connection with the idea of democracy, but I seem to have never gotten round to it. It has been a while, and I don't recall what I had heard or who I had heard it from (it was likely R. Simcha Baer), but I do seem to have some latent thoughts linking Parshas Korach and democracy, as when a someone asked me about it, the idea came to mind.

Anyways, it would seem the two correlates in explaining the parsha (Nietzsche and democracy) would be somewhat complimentary. Although I think I wrote something to the contrary in the comments of my previous post, Nietzsche's philosophy is quite authoritarian, even a little bit fascist. The slave moralities of which he so despises are not only the systems promoted by the Judeo-Chrisitian religions, but the democratic forms of government that give power to the people and not to some elite cadre of ubermenschen.

So what we have is Korach leading a rebellion against an entrenched aristocracy by appealing to the masses' sense of the value of the individual by making democratic overtures. In truth, Korach has no intention of transfering any power to the individuals (cf. the midrash detailing the arguement between On ben Peles and his wife).

The truth is, in discussing these ideas with a few friends, I'm not sure if the best analogy would be democracy (rule by the people) or communism (classeless society). Either way, the focus is a bit different, as God is the one who is ostensibly deciding who offers the korbanos.

Brain flash: I do recall what I had previously heard from R. Simcha Baer, at least a little. Basically, the question could be asked, what was Korach thinking? Did he really think that God would choose him over Aharon? And what if he chose someone else? R. Baer's explanation, which I am not doing justice, was along the lines that Korach thought that he could establish a democratic system of election for the priesthood, and that by virtue of the fact that he held the popular vote, so to speak, God would have no choice but to accept his offering and install him as the Kohen Gadol. I am sure there were elegant proofs for this, but I do not remember them. But what you then have is basically democracy vs. theocracy (in a more literal sense).

R. J.J. Schachter Recap

I didn't get a chance to write up the past week's Scholar in Residence with R. JJ Schachter. I made it to three out of four of his speeches; the shiur at the 8:15 minyan was interesting, but I won't go into detail here as it was very technical and without the sources, difficult to follow. I don't recall what was said at the main minyan (it's been a week). I missed the afternoon shiur (Penny went in my stead), in which R. Schachter discussed various customs of Jewish communities in Europe in commemoration of tragedies, ultimately addressing the question of whether Yom HaShoah has historical precedent or not (the short answer: it does).

The final speech, during seudas shlishis, was interesting, but I was hoping for a bit more depth. R. Schachter discussed the objective and subjective components of religious experience. He described the objective as the quantitative fulfillment of the commandments (davening three times a day, eating the proper amount of matzah), in contrast to the subjective, the more qualitative experience of a religious act (how does davening affect me, or what the experience of a the seder conveys to me). The source sheets quoted many passages from writings of R. Soloveitchik, particularly the newer books (Worship of the Heart, and one other).

I noted that when describing the subjective experience, R. Schachter tended to describe the resulting outcome as an experience of the Divine Presence. Although in somewhat of a different vein, it reminded me of much of what I was thinking at the time I started this blog. At the time, I was working through how to approach the concept of God from a non-objective perspective. Epistemologically speaking, an objective knowledge of the existence of God, at least as far as I figure, is impossible; I began to work through a subjective approach. What I was left with was experience. From there, I began to build a phenomenology of experiencing the Divine, or what it means to be in God's Presence. This wasn't really what R. Schachter was talking about, but I found the common association with the subjective (which in his terms meant relative, while in mine, more non-rational) and Divine Presence.

I also had an opportunity to talk with R. Schachter in a more informal setting. What I really wanted to ask him, but did not get the chance, related to the thought of R. Soloveitchik. From my limited reading of the Rav's writings, I get the sense that he views religious Man as inherently in a state of conflict. So much of the Rav's writings end in his outlining a basic division in Man that draws him in opposite directions. The Rav will outline the rules of engagement, so to speak, between the competing tendencies, but it seems that Man is always left embroiled in this conflict, never reaching a state of peace. My inclination is to identify this as the general character of what is commonly referred to today as Modern Orthodoxy, which, in my opinion, leaves one in this sort of conflicted, unresolved limbo-state between faith and reason. The "modern" component allows one to give credence to science, while at the same time, the "orthodox" component draws a line in the sand, over which, you do not cross. The end result is a constant state of conflict where one must challenge himslef to believe in that which, logically, he has accepted to deny. I'm wondering if this is an adequate characterization of the general conflict I sensed in the Rav's writings (the first question being, does this conflict exist in the Rav's work, and second, does it reduce to these terms).

Making your own Mazel

The older I get, the more I have come to realize how much of who we are and what we do is decided by forces beyond our control. Whether genetics, chemical imbalances, formative experiences or circumstances of birth beyond our control such as socio-economic or family status, so much of how our lives will play out is already decided for us. Ask yourself: How many of my life's decisions did I truly make on my own, without influence from sources beyond my control?

This is what Judaism refers to as mazel, commonly translated as luck, but more appropriately connoting that which is beyond our control (see Sotah 2A, or my explanation of the opening gemara). Religion in general tends to be very much against giving credence to Mazel, insisting instead on attributing to Man free will to guide his life however he sees fit. It is argued that a criteria for a system of justice is that Man be free to choose between good and bad; if Man is not responsible for his actions, how can he be justly punished for transgressions? Accepting determinism is viewed as incompatible with a world in which Man is responsible for his actions.

Judaism, I think, takes a different approach, recognizing Man's determined nature, while at the same time insisting he take responsibilty for his own destiny. It becomes one of life's ultimate ironies, that despite so much of a Man is predetermined and beyond his control, he (or she) alone must take responsibility for his actions.

The role of science is to help Man confront and subdue Nature through technology, in an effort to produce a better world. This science is objective, it makes no value judgements on the applications of the discovered techniques; the kind of world that is created by the application of technology is dependent upon the society that cultivates the science. In a society fueled by fame and fortune, we get blogs and stock markets. It is easy to imagine an alternate society in which technology is more directly applied to the alleviation of human suffering and increasing human dignity. Perhaps we are on the path, angling ever closer to a world in which Mazel no longer rules our destiny.

Why?

Stan: Why would God let Kenny die, Chef? Why? Kenny's my Friend. Why can't God take someone else's friend?
Chef: Stan, sometime God take those closest to us, because it makes him feel better about Himself. He's a very vengeful God, Stan. He's all pissed off about something we did thousands of years ago. He just can't get over it. So he doesn't care who he takes: children, puppies, it don't matter to him, so long as it makes us sad. Do you understand?
Stan: Then why does God give us anything to start with?
Chef: Well, look at it this way: if you want to make a baby cry, first you give it a lollipop. Then, you take it away. If you never give it a lollipop to begin with, then you would have nothing to cry about. That's like God, who gives us life and love and health just so that he can tear it all away and make us cry, so he can drink the sweet milk of our tears...You see, it's our tears, Stan, that give God his great power.
Stan: I think I understand.
- from South Park, Season Five: Kenny Dies (video)

There's No Such Thing as a Platonic Soup!

Via Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks:

[Sidney Morgenbesser] took his philosophy class into a nice Jewish restaurant in lower East Side and a waiter comes up to him and says, "What would you like to order?" And he says, "Waiter, I would like to order soup." And the waiter says, "Well, yeah, we have chicken soup. We have pea soup. We have borscht. We have minestrone. What kind of soup would you like?" And he says, "I don't want any of those kinds of soups. I just want soup!"

Read the whole article, if you have time, or just check out the Morgenbesser page on Wikipedia for more hilarious anecdotes. I'll have more to say on the themes from the article, how they relate to Channukah and Kashrus hopefully later in the week.

Categories of Injustice

As I see it, there are two categories of injustice. The first type is injustice visited upon man by his fellow man; this would include murder, theft and the like. The second type of injustice is that which is commonly referred to as an "Act of God," that is some sort of natural disaster or circumstantial happenstance that causes injustice, often indiscriminately. The recent tsunami and earthquake would be examples.

The goal, or intention, as portrayed in the Torah, was for Man to be free from suffering both these types of injustice. The initial commandment to man, "to be fruitful and multiply, to conquer..." holds within it the mandate to apply Man's rational capabilities in subjugating Nature, allowing Man to live with honor and dignity. Indeed, life in Eden before the chet was free of injustice of the second kind; only after the expulsion from the Garden was the Earth cursed, pitting Man against Nature in a battle for survival.

The ten generations between Adam and Noach were successful in subjugating Nature through technological means. The Torah recounts the innovation from generation to generation, culminating in Noach himself, the Ish HaAdamah. The injustice of Nature had been conquered. The injustice of the first kind, however, that perpetrated by Man on Man, remained prevalent, to the point that God (ironically) unleashed the wrath of Nature upon Man, all but obliterating him from the face of the Earth. Noach, the Ish HaAdamah, but also the Tzadik, was spared, and chosen to rebuild Mankind.

The subsequent generation showed a marked improvement; they all but eliminated the injustice of the first kind, banding together to build a technological wonder, a Tower to the heavens. But their technology became their focus, a goal rather than a means, and they too were punished, ironically, with dispersion and confusion, seperateing Mankind into nations that would forever visit injustice upon each other.

Finally, we arrive at Avraham. In him was the potential for a leader to create a nation that would finally eliminate both types of injustice from society. A nation that would strive to dignify Mankind's existence through technological innovation, while at the same time advancing Mankind morally to all but eliminate injustice. In short, Avraham would build a nation where each and every person wakes up in the morning feeling safe, secure and content, readily experiencing the presence of kindness, justice and truth of the created world he lives in, of the Presence of God.

Orthodoxy vs. Orthopraxy

Steven I. Weiss, the man behind Protocols, has an article in the Forward discussing Marc Shapiro's new book, "The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides' Thirteen Principles Reappraised." I haven't read the book yet, but I will. It sounds similar, in more than a few ways, to Menachem Kellner's Must a Jew Believe Anything?.

It seems, from the article, that Shapiro is approaching the question of whether or not Maimonides 13 Principles of Faith are relevant today from a historical perspective; the question is whether or not the Jewish community (or communities) accepted these beliefs as dogmatic. I'm hoping that, in addition to this, Shaprio discusses Maimonides rationale for formalizing on these specific beliefs. Maimonides certainty in proclaiming these 13 articles as dogmatic did not stem from a historical tradition (quite the contrary, in fact); he proved, to himself, using the methods available to him at that time (Aristotiliean physics and metaphysics) that these statements were incontrovertably true. His position was a product of the entire intellectual climate of his time. Understanding Maimonides position requires understanding the underlying assumptions to all of his thought.

Most of the physics and metaphysics of Aritstotle has been wholy rejected by science. Maimonides motivation in affirming these beliefs stemmed from his belief that the science of his time was correct and true. If he were alive today, and knew what we know, would he write the same thing? I'm fairly certain that, without revisiting the proofs to see if they still stand, Maimonides would be hesitant to assert anything.

The other issue is the interpretation of the 13 principles. The best example is the resurrection of the dead. Looking in the original source, Maimonides makes a very curt statement as to what this belief entails. Basically he says, "The dead can be resurrected." Part of the reason why his works were set aflame with such regularity was because of this ambigious description. Not until the [Kesef | Lechem] Misheh, who re-explains Maimonides position on resurrection according to the prevailing conceptualization, do we have anything from Maimonides that seems to fit with present-day accepted dogma.

More work definetly needs to be done here. Reframing Judaism as an orthopraxis is not enough; the connection between action and belief is, at least for children of the West, too strong to sever so resolutely without setting adrift many who are already, perhaps without even knowing it, lost at sea. The ramifications for Orthodoxy's interaction with its Reform and Conservative brothers is also an important consideration.

Out of the Whirlwind

Dr. David Shatz spoke last night about R. Soloveitchik's approach to suffering. I mentioned previosly the article published in the Torah U'Madda journal as a good introduction; it turns out, Dr. Shatz's lecture focused on that exact article. In my list of sources to read before the lecture, I forgot to mention the recent book published compiling the Rav's thought on this topic, Out of the Whirlwind (co-edited by Dr. Shatz), in which that article, mysteriously absent from the RIETS home page, is reprinted (the conspiracy theorist in me says that "they" had the article pulled from the web page when the book was published).

It was an excellent lecture. I read the article about a year or two ago, but Dr. Shatz did an amazing job explaining it. The basic idea presented is that, from Judaism's perspective, theodicy is just plain wrong. Coming to terms with the cosmic appropriateness or telos of Evil hamstrings the individual, preventing him from acting successfully as a moral agent. The logical argument, similar to the proposition's of Job's friends, is that conceptualizing Evil as appropriate will cause one to withdraw from combating it.

This position, of course, while in confluence with some sources, is against a great many others. To explain this division, the Rav divides "Halacha" into two categories: Thematic and Topical.

The Thematic Halacha is what we think of as Machshava (Jewish Thought). In this sphere, we have the traditional theodicy (justification of God's ways). Evil is not really evil. If only we could see the world from God's perspective, we would understand how the needless suffering and senseless destruction in the world all serve a purpose. The Thematic Halacha also takes the approach that all suffering is justified, in response to a man's action. "There is no death without sin, no suffering without transgression."

The Topical Halacha, which, I think, would associate most similarly to the Halacha that we think of, i.e. Jewish Law, takes a completely different view on Evil. Evil is real, it does not make sense. Don't spend your time coming up with reasons for it or justifing it. Fight it in any way that you can. A close look at the laws of mourning reveal that this is indeed the attitude that is taken; Evil is treated with respect, not explained away as illusory.

The Rav's opinion, according to Dr. Shatz, is that Judaism, while containing traditions attributable to both ways of understanding, strongly favors the latter. Our role as Jews is to eradicate Evil, not justify it. Although Dr. Shatz didn't mention it, I was drawing connections to confronted vs. non-confronted Man (which the Rav discusses in Kol Dodi Dofek). Suffice it to say, there is a lot more to say on this subject; I'm ordering the book to get the full version of the essay along with whatever other materials it contains.

I asked Dr. Shatz if there is any precedent for this kind of approach, either in philosophy or theology. I'm not sure I phrased my question very well (I asked if the division between theodicy and response appears elsewhere; I was really only interested in the idea of response), but his reply was that he wasn't sure. Not that I've read that much, but I think this is a novel approach to the Problem of Evil. The trend in contemporary Judaism is to either multiply the number of rational explanations for Evil to the point where the individual is unable to deduce a single causal explanation, getting them nowhere (this would be the haredi approach) or to limit in some God's power, thereby making room for Evil (this would be Harold Kushner, et. al.). I've yet to really delve into Emil Fackenheim's work on Tikkun Olam, but from my basic understanding, his approach is somewhat similar in that he refuses to assimilate or justify the Holocaust. Fackenheim's idea of Tikkun Olam (fixing the world) becomes compulsory because of the suffering of the Jews in the Holocaust. Tikkun Olam is a direct response to Evil. I think Fackenheim takes this elsewhere, however. Also similar in concept are the ideas of Emmanuel Levinas, whose philosophy basically states, "ethics precedes ontology," or that the ethical response precedes the rational one. Evil would require an ethical response first, followed, if at all, by a rational one.

I found this so intriguing because it fits with how I have come to understand this problem philosophically (I refer you to one of my earlier posts, The Only Question). There are differences between my ideas and the Rav's (rightly so, as the Rav was a Talmud Chacham of incomparable brilliance and a first-rate philosopher; I'm more of a hack), which I would like to explore further, but it gave me great support to see some of my thoughts in someone else's words (this is not what I was referring to in the previous post about others beating me to the punch with brilliant ideas; that was something else).

To delve a bit deeper into the differences (big, big lehavdil here), the Rav posits the Thematic and Topical halacha as separate entities. There would be no change in the treatment or conceptualization of Evil depending on the context (for example, at a time when God's Presence is immanent). A Presence based explanation, however, shifts the focus on Evil as God's Presence becomes manifest. The ethical response is mandated, but the theodicy becomes more real as God becomes more present. I have to think about this more. Re-reading what I wrote, it appears that what I am proposing would be that the Thematic approach is an ideal, the Topical a means to that ideal.

Either way, I think the ethical response to Evil is a product of modernity. Only in a world where God's Presence is so intangible to the senses, where our understanding of the world has shifted so far away from the religious to the mechanistic, could this approach become possible.

Dr. Shatz coming to Baltimore

Dr. David Shatz is coming to Baltimore in two weeks (Feb. 20). He will be speaking at various locations, over the weekend, including Shomrei. He is also scheduled to give a lecture on Saturday night entitled, "R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik on the Problem of Suffering." (7:45 PM at Yeshivat Rambam).

I'm definetly going to go Sat. night. For those interested, here is a short list of background reading to prepare for Dr. Shatz's lecture.

• A Halakhic Approach to Suffering, by R. J.B. Soloveitchik. Torah U'Madda Journal, Volume 8 (previously available online from RIETS).
• Is There a "Halakhic" Response to the Problem of Evil?, by Moshe Sokol. Harvard Theological Review (previously availabe from findarticles.com; Google cached copy of first page.)

If you know of any other relevant source material, leave a comment or email me and I'll add to the list.

A side note: I was all excited when I started compiling this list of source materials, mostly because I thought they were freely available online (I printed out the Sokol article just last week). Now it seems that this information has disappeared. How sad. It seems RIETS has removed most of Volume 8 of the Torah U'Madda journal from their site. I'm going to hope this is just an oversight and not some ploy at controlling information.

Certainly for Every person

Ronald H. Isaacs: Every Person's Guide to Jewish Philosophy and Philosophers

Overall, this book is a bit on the light side, but gives a good overview of the positions and influences of the major Jewish philosophers. The book even covers modern personalities, including Fackenheim, Soloveitchik and Berkovits (who, apparently, thought of my whole Presence/Hester Panim theory). No source material is quoted, just a few pages on each topic. The book does a decent job in showing the connections between Jews working within the tradition (and some without) in the context of the major philosophical movements of their time. Overall, this is a good introduction, not too deep, very good for the beginner. I would have liked a bit more detail, perhaps some quotes from primary sources (there were none). But it is a good reference for quick information. [Posted via blam!]

No Surprises Here

So I took the Ethical Philosophy Test, and, big surprise, my best match was the Epicureans (those of you familiar with Talmud will know that the word Apikorus is supposedly derived from Epicurus).

Other high-scoring matches were Kant, Bentham and Spinoza. Kant I could hear. Bentham or Spinoza? Not quite.

Whatsmore, we know this is wrong, as I am clearly a Nietzschean. But what self-respecting Charedi isn't?

Just as a comparison, I took their Religion test. My top three results were Baha'i (which I will freely admit to knowing nothing about), Reform and Orthodox Judaism (in that order). Maybe I'll pick up some Epircursus on the way home...