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.
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.
R. Moshe Taragin spoke a total of five times last Shabbos, and offered many poignant thoughts. One that stuck with me was his explanation of the idol worship known as Baal Peor.
For those of you unaware, the method by which one worshiped the god Peor was by defecating before its idol. R. Taragin explained this as pointing to a worship of the natural. The acolytes of Peor felt that something natural, no matter how revolting, was inherently holy. Defecation, while revolting, is completely natural, and was therefore chosen as their form of worship.
R. Taragin progressed from here to a discussion of humanism, and ultimately settled on the Akeidah and questions of natural or rational morality vs. revealed divine will (most of which can be found in previous posts on this blog).
Nabucco (apparently Italian for Nebchadnezzar) is playing at the Baltimore Opera. I saw an ad for it somewhere online and found the teaser dialogue intriguing enough to click through:
“I am God.” --Nabucco
“I don’t think so.” --God
“Zzzzzzaaaaaaapppp!” --Lightning Bolt
Then I looked at the ticket prices, and was a little less intrigued. Culture's nice and all, but it also comes on DVD.
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).
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)