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Ideal and Evolutionary Morality in the Torah:Traditional Commentary in an Age of Humanism

Rabbi Hayyim Angel is the National Scholar of the Institute for JewisIdeas and Ideals (jewishideas.org). He has taught advanced Bible courses to undergraduate, graduate, and rabbinical students at YeshivaUniversity since 1996. He lectures widely in synagogues and schools throughout North America. He lives in Teaneck, New Jersey, with his wife and four children. This article appears in issue 33 of Conversations, the journal of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals and was reprinted in issue 44.

Introduction

One of the overarching goals of the Torah is to refine people’s moral character. Many laws and narratives overtly focus on morality, and many others inveigh against the immorality and amorality of paganism. The biblical prophets place consistency between observance of God’s ritual and moral laws at the very heart of their message.

Rabbi Saadyah Gaon insists that God chooses only good things to command. He rejects the position of the medieval Islamic school of Ash‘ariyya, which maintained that whatever God commands is by definition good.^{^[1]}

Similarly, Rambam asserts that every commandment teaches justice and noble qualities, or corrects philosophical errors (Guide 3:27). Rambam cites God’s desire to have all the nations of the world perceive the moral superiority of the Torah:

Observe them faithfully, for that will be proof of your wisdom and discernment to other peoples, who on hearing of all these laws will say, “Surely, that great nation is a wise and discerning people.” For what great nation is there that has a god so close at hand as is the Lord our God whenever we call upon Him? Or what great nation has laws and rules as perfect as all this Teaching that I set before you this day? (Deuteronomy 4:6–8)

Many other Jewish thinkers likewise adopt the position that the Torah promotes the highest moral values.

In recent generations, this position has been augmented with the discovery of many ancient Near Eastern laws and narratives. Leading scholars of the twentieth century demonstrated how the Torah promotes moral values vastly superior to those of the prevailing cultures of that day.^{^[2]}Contemporary writers also have demonstrated the extent to which the Torah’s values have exerted a decisive influence on contemporary Western morality.^{^[3]}

Contemporary readers, though, confront a troubling question. Does the Torah promote the highest morality? Several commandments appear to conflict with modern moral sentiments. Although there might not be unanimity on what contemporary moral sentiments are or should be, we can point to several areas that have attracted serious attention among traditional thinkers.

For example, the Torah permits slavery and polygamy. It permits the blood relatives of one who is killed accidentally to kill the manslayer without trial if he or she fails to reach, or subsequently leaves, a City of Refuge. The Torah commands the total eradication of the Canaanites and Amalekites. Granting that both societies were depraved and evil, and that these laws are not applicable today, God’s stark commandment to kill men, women, and children remains in the Torah. There is a clash between the Torah’s severe prohibition of homosexual relations and the sentiments of many people today. While the sacrificial order of the Temple raises different issues, it also is difficult for many in the modern era to fathom.

Over the past two centuries, Jewish thinkers have engaged in a thoughtful conversation about these and related issues. Some of these discussions have roots in ancient and medieval thought, but these questions have received far more attention in the modern era, driven at least in part by humanistic values.

Rabbi Yaakov Medan, one of the Roshei Yeshiva at Yeshivat Har Etzion, rejects the dangerous fundamentalist approach that we must blindly draw our morality from Tanakh without further inquiry. He also rejects the position of Professor Yeshayahu Leibowitz (1903–1994), who insisted that there is no connection between God and morality, and that Jews simply must obey God’s laws. Rabbi Medan states that there are two basic approaches for those who believe that the divinely revealed Torah is moral: (1) Apologetics, reconciling what we see in the text with our moral sentiments. This approach is dishonest, as it imposes the will of the reader onto the text. (2) Attempting to understand God’s word on its own terms, while simultaneously retaining our own moral sense. God is beyond our comprehension, but we never stop struggling with these complex moral issues.^{^[4]}

In this essay, I adopt the latter view of Rabbi Medan. Although it is impossible to be objective, it appears that the evidence supports the notion of an evolutionary morality regarding certain tolerated practices. At the same time, the Torah’s mandatory commandments may reflect realities of its ancient setting, but remain eternally binding as God’s word. In the latter case, there is room for evolving interpretations of the law.

Ancient and Medieval Precedents

Talmud

The Torah gives laws pertaining to a “beautiful captive” (yefat to’ar) taken in battle (Deuteronomy 21:10–14). Commentators debate the plain meaning of the biblical text. Some maintain that an Israelite soldier may have one-time sexual relations with her immediately at wartime (Rambam, Hilkhot Melakhim 8:2–7, Abarbanel), while others insist that the soldier first must wait 30 days and then decide if he still wants to marry her (Ibn Ezra, Ramban). The Talmud supports the former view, and therefore the one-time sexual union with the captive is permissible in halakhah. Why would God allow this act, instead of prohibiting it outright? The Talmud answers:

With respect to the first intercourse there is universal agreement that it is permitted, since the Torah only provided for man’s evil passions. (Kiddushin 21b)

In this approach, God would have outlawed this sexual union, but knew that many ancient soldiers would violate the prohibition. Therefore, God chose the lesser of the two evils and permitted but discouraged the act by focusing on the humanity and humiliation of the captive. God thus legislated for a flawed human reality, provided a realistic law and circumscribed it, and simultaneously taught the ideal value and mode of conduct, that no soldier ever should perform this act.

Rambam

Rambam maintains that God revealed many laws to wean the Israelites away from pagan culture to the service of God (Guide 3:29). Having spent so long in pagan Egypt, the Israelites had a strong predilection to offer animal sacrifices. God recognized this propensity and therefore instituted animal sacrifices. God further prescribed specific boundaries for this form of worship by insisting that animals could be sacrificed only in authorized shrines such as the Tabernacle or later the Temple. Prayer and contemplation, which are higher forms of serving God, thereby were encouraged as substitutes for animal sacrifices (Guide 3:32).

Ramban (on Leviticus 1:9) attacks Rambam on this assertion: “Behold, these words are worthless; they make a big breach, raise big questions, and pollute the table of God.” He maintains that the Temple, sacrifices, and related laws are ideal means of communing with God, and not concessions to the ancient Israelites’ historical setting.^{^[5]}

In addition, Rambam’s view raised the fundamental question: Now that we have become more sophisticated, what would be the relevance of these ritual commandments in our times? Living in the nineteenth century, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch lamented the terrible misapplication of Rambam’s thought among assimilating German Jews. Many were using Rambam’s logic in the Guide as precedent for abandoning other ritual commandments as well.^{^[6]}Rambam himself was concerned with the possibility of the masses’ losing respect for many commandments if their reasons were revealed (Guide 3:26).^{^[7]}

Elsewhere in his writings, Rambam stresses the value of animal sacrifices, considering them among the commandments that we cannot fully understand (Hebrew hukkim, Hilkhot Me’ilah 8:8). He maintains that in the messianic future, sacrifices will be restored with the rebuilding of the Temple (Hilkhot Melakhim 11:1). More broadly, Rambam maintains that all of the Torah’s commandments are eternal, including into the messianic era (ninth principle of faith; cf. Guide 2:39; 3:34).^{^[8]}Rambam’s placing sacrifices in their historical setting, then, never renders them obsolete as laws.

To summarize, the Talmud discusses an instance where the Torah tolerates behavior as a concession to human weakness. Instead of outlawing the undesirable behavior, it circumscribes the action and makes it clear that one ideally should not do it at all. In Rambam’s explanation of the rationale behind the Temple and sacrifices, the eternal observance of the commandments is absolute regardless of the time-bound aspect of the Torah responding to its ancient pagan setting. God developed an evolutionary educational program to teach Israel certain religious ideals over time.

Regarding conventions that the Torah permits, one may pit the Torah’s ideal values against ancient social reality and explain that the Torah created an evolutionary program with the goal of eliminating certain practices that were too difficult to abolish at the time of God’s revelation of the Torah to Moses. With mandatory commandments, we may change our interpretations, but not the commandments themselves.

We now turn to a few examples where modern thinkers interpret certain tolerated practices of the Torah as parts of the Torah’s evolutionary educational program for Israel and for humanity.

Less-than-Ideal Actions Tolerated by the Torah

Polygamy

The Torah permits polygamy; yet one may argue that this permission was a concession to ancient reality and is distant from the Torah’s ideal of monogamous relationships.

The Torah introduces the concept of a loving monogamous marriage at the very beginning of human existence:

And the Lord God fashioned the rib that He had taken from the man into a woman; and He brought her to the man. Then the man said, “This one at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. This one shall be called Woman, for from man was she taken.” Hence a man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife, so that they become one flesh. (Genesis 2:22–24)

Biblical narratives that involve polygamy such as Abraham-Sarah-Hagar, Jacob-Rachel-Leah, and Elkanah-Hannah-Peninah invariably yield tension in the household. Tellingly, the biblical word for wife-in-law is tzarah, tormentor (I Samuel 1:6; Leviticus 18:18).

Given the Torah’s ideal portrayal of a monogamous marriage in Eden, its negative portrayal of polygamy, and the fact that there is no mandatory commandment for a man to marry more than one wife, we may consider polygamy an institution that the Torah tolerated as a concession to ancient reality. A monogamous society is the Torah’s ideal from its inception. The Torah set out its ideal values so that one day, they could be realized and polygamy would be abolished.

Blood Vengeance

The Torah permits a close relative to kill an accidental manslayer without trial. The manslayer must escape to the City of Refuge and remain inside that city for safety (Numbers 35:9–34; Deuteronomy 19:1–13).

The nineteenth-century commentator, Rabbi Samuel David Luzzatto (Shadal on Numbers 35:12) asks: Why does the Torah not simply outlaw vigilante justice and leave the matter to the courts? He suggests that the Torah presents a weaning process. In the ancient world, people would have felt like they did not love their deceased relative if they would refrain from killing the accidental manslayer. Many therefore would violate the Torah and kill the manslayer anyway. Acknowledging that reality, the Torah circumscribes blood vengeance by protecting the accidental manslayer and emphasizing his or her innocent blood. Ideally, the relatives should not engage in blood vengeance.

Professor Nehama Leibowitz (1905–1997) agrees with Shadal, and adds that the Torah succeeded in its evolutionary educational program. The talmudic Sages refer to going to the Cities of Refuge as “exile” (Mishnah Makkot 2:1), replacing the Torah’s usage of the term “to flee” (Exodus 21:13; Numbers 35:15; Deuteronomy 19:5). Professor Leibowitz suggests that this change in terminology stems from the fact that the Torah eradicated the urge for blood vengeance. No longer did accidental manslayers “flee” the blood relatives out of fear being killed, but instead went into “exile” as a consequence of the Torah’s legislation.^{^[9]}

Slavery

The Torah’s legislation regarding slavery is vastly more humane than any other form of slavery in the ancient world.^{^[10]}And yet, why does the Torah permit slavery at all? Several contemporary rabbinic thinkers, including Rabbis Norman Lamm and Nahum Rabinovitch, discuss this phenomenon and reach similar conclusions.^{^[11]}The following is a brief amalgam of their views.

The ultimate goal of the Torah is for humanity to realize that slavery is wrong, and should be abolished. From Creation, the Torah teaches that all people are equal. All people derive from the same ancestry, and are created in God’s image. However, humanity went astray. Men subjugated one another and distinguished between slaves and masters. When God revealed the Torah to Moses, the world economy depended on slavery, so the Torah could not realistically outlaw slavery. Rather, it taught society to advance step by step, until the goal of the elimination of slavery could be fully achieved.

Many laws remind Israel to care for the downtrodden of society, since the Israelites were slaves in Egypt. Shabbat gives a taste of the ideal world, where slaves rest also. While tolerating slavery, the Torah revolutionized the institution. It set a floor that prevented descent to the vile abuses practiced by other nations. Its ultimate goal is that over time, people should question why we have slaves at all. The abolition of slavery in most of the world today is a realization of the ideals taught by the Torah.

To summarize, God responded to a flawed human reality by revealing laws that outlawed many ancient practices immediately, while tolerating and modifying/restricting other undesirable practices with the goal of eliminating them over time. In an ideal world, God would not have permitted soldiers to take beautiful captives, polygamy, blood vengeance, or slavery. God tolerated these practices as concessions to ancient reality, and simultaneously taught ideal morality so that Israel and humanity could evolve and abolish these practices over time. The fact that many people today consider these practices morally unacceptable is a tribute to the success of the Torah’s long term educational vision of ideal divine law.

Conflicts between Mandatory Commandments and Contemporary Moral Sentiments

Sacrifices and Other Temple Rituals

As discussed above, Rambam viewed the Temple and its sacrifices as a necessary aspect of God’s evolutionary approach to reaching the ideal society. Ancient Israelites were unable to receive a religious system devoid of a Temple and its sacrificial rites. Yet, Rambam also wrote that the Temple will be rebuilt and sacrifices restored in the messianic era (Hilkhot Melakhim 11:1). This position is no different from Rambam’s suggestion that the prohibition of cooking a kid in its mother’s milk also served to wean Israel away from pagan practices (Guide 3:48), yet those laws are fully applicable for all time.

Beyond Rambam’s general view on the eternality of the Torah’s commandments, Professor Menachem Kellner offers additional reasons why the restoration of sacrifices is critical for Rambam’s position on the messianic era. Rambam’s messianism is non-supernatural, and idolatry is an ever-present threat even in the messianic era. Therefore, sacrifices are necessary to continue to wean humanity away from the immorality and foolishness of paganism. Additionally, the messianic era is restorative, returning all institutions from the time of David and Solomon to their former glory. The reinstitution of the Temple, sacrifices, and the Sabbatical and Jubilee years are central to that vision.^{^[12]}

Professor Micah Goodman adds that Rambam maintains that Abraham’s religion without commandments failed to preserve his philosophical monotheism for the long term among his descendants (Hilkhot Avodat Kokhavim 1:1–3). Absent rituals, God’s ideal religious values cannot endure in society. Rituals that uphold group identity and reinforce its core principles are required for long-term survival and religious flourishing (cf. Guide 2:31).^{^[13]}

Despite what appears to be Rambam’s position, some extend Rambam’s approach and conclude that there will not be sacrifice in the messianic future. One contemporary thinker who has expressed his struggle from different perspectives is Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo. In one article, he concludes that were God to reveal the Torah today, it would not include laws of slavery or sacrifices:

[N]ot only would the laws concerning sacrifices and slavery be totally abolished once the people outgrew the need for them, but they would actually not have appeared in the biblical text had it been revealed at a much later stage in Jewish history.^{^[14]}

Rabbi Cardozo makes no distinction between the Torah’s toleration of slavery, which is not commanded; and sacrifices, which are mandatory commandments. He does not address Rambam’s other writings that insist on the eternality of all of the Torah’s commandments or that the sacrificial order will be restored in the messianic era. Rabbi Cardozo’s leap from tolerated practices to mandatory commandments appears to go beyond the evidence in the Torah and in Rambam’s writings.

In a different essay,^{^[15]}Rabbi Cardozo restates his position that the Torah contains concessions to human weakness, and sets out an evolutionary road toward higher forms of worship. What of Rambam’s ruling that the sacrifices will be restored in the messianic era? Rabbi Cardozo submits, “I believe he thus expresses his doubt that the ought-to-be of Judaism will ever become a reality in this world.”^{^[16]}This position resonates with the view of Professor Kellner stated above, that Rambam maintains that the idolatrous urge will remain even in the messianic era so sacrifices will be necessary to counter that urge.

To summarize, Rambam maintains that the laws of the Torah are eternal, and that the Temple and sacrifices will be restored in the messianic future. The law remains unchanged, but the religious meaning one ascribes to the commandments can change. When the messianic era arrives, we will be in a better position to judge what actually will happen.^{^[17]}

Homosexuality

A similar approach can apply to the Torah’s unequivocal prohibition against male homosexual relations. The prohibition is unchangeable, but there has been a meaningful evolution within rabbinic responses in certain sectors of the contemporary Orthodox community. While there remains a wide range of opinion and approach within the Orthodox rabbinate and community, it is encouraging to see these more inclusive positions.^{^[18]}

War Against Canaan

Granting that the Canaanites and Amalekites were depraved and evil, the Torah’s command to exterminate their populations, men, women, and children, remains stark. A full discussion of this issue goes beyond the parameters of this essay. It is noteworthy that of our medieval commentators, only Rabbenu Bahya (14th century) raised the moral question of the Torah’s command to kill even the children. His answers likely would not satisfy modern sentiments: It was a divine decree; once God decrees their doom they are considered as dead; they no doubt will grow up to be like their parents. Like amputating a limb to save the body, the elimination of Canaanites and Amalekites was good for humanity.^{^[19]}

It is not until the 20th century that rabbinic thinkers began to address this moral question more systematically.^{^[20]} Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook (1865–1935) maintains that this commandment was restricted to the biblical period, and reflects ancient conventions of warfare. If Israel did not eliminate the Canaanites and Amalekites, they would regroup and attack Israel. The only way to stop enemies in an immoral world is to subdue them completely. As the moral expectations of the world regarding war improve, Israel must follow the highest moral standards and not apply the rules of the war against Canaanites and Amalekites (Iggerot HaRei’ah 1:89).

Rabbi Kook thus understands the parameters of the Torah’s commandment as God’s concession to the moral limitations and reality of the ancient world. The Oral Law enables later generations to improve moral standards, rather than remaining fixated on the ancient standards of war and applying them in later periods.^{^[21]}

Rambam vs. Abarbanel on Monarchy

We have discussed the distinction between less-than-ideal non-mandatory practices that the Torah tolerated versus commandments where interpretations change while the law is eternal. One debate that proves this rule is the disagreement between Rambam and Abarbanel regarding monarchy (Deuteronomy 17:14–20).

Rambam considers monarchy to be a positive commandment (Hilkhot Melakhim 1:1–2). Abarbanel rejects Rambam’s view based on several textual considerations and maintains that although monarchy is permitted if requested, it is viewed negatively by the Torah. Abarbanel likens monarchy to the laws of the “beautiful captive” (Deuteronomy 21:10–14) where the Torah tolerates certain less-than-ideal actions to forestall worse eventualities. He invokes the talmudic principle discussed earlier in this essay, “the Torah states this in consideration of the evil inclination” (Kiddushin 21b).^{^[22]}

Monarchy reflected the prevalent form of government in Israel’s ancient setting. The Torah and the people in Samuel’s time explicitly state that Israel wanted a king “as do all the nations” (Deuteronomy 17:14; I Samuel 8:5). For Rambam, however, the Torah commands this form of government so it transcends that ancient setting and is mandatory whenever it is politically feasible. For Abarbanel, monarchy is a tolerated negative practice until such time as people develop alternative forms of government.^{^[23]}

Conclusion

The prophets and ancient and medieval rabbinic thinkers recognized the centrality of ethics in the Torah’s vision and law. In the modern era, many traditional thinkers perceived a growing gap between the morality of some of the Torah’s laws and the ideal morals of Western humanism.

The talmudic analysis of the beautiful captive (Kiddushin 21b) provides the precedent for later thinkers to conclude that certain elements in the Torah tolerate a less-than-ideal reality as a concession to ancient mores. Rambam’s discussion of the Temple and sacrifices provides the precedent for later thinkers to distinguish between practices that the Torah tolerates as a concession, while simultaneously providing its ideal vision so that over time the Jewish people and all humanity can move closer to the ideal morality of the Torah.

For matters that the Torah tolerates but does not command, such as polygamy, blood vengeance, and slavery, one may ascertain a gap between the Torah’s tolerance and its ideal to abolish these practices. For mandatory commandments, such as a Temple and sacrifices and the prohibition against male homosexual relations, the laws are eternal but there remains room for different interpretations of these commandments so that our attitudes and religious-moral experience can evolve with time.

This essay outlines several areas that have drawn the attention of modern thinkers. These discussions are a healthy and vital aspect of our relationship with God and our desire to live in accordance with the Torah’s ideal moral values.

The world has a long way to go to realize the messianic ideal. We pray for a growing embodiment of the Torah’s ideals: A loving faithful marriage as the central bond for raising a family and transmitting religious values; a universal commitment to law and justice; a realization that all human beings are created in God’s image, with no racism, sexism, or other forms of discrimination; a universal desire to connect to God through living a life of holiness; and a world where all evil is eliminated, and humanity serves God and lives ideal moral lives.

Notes

[1] Howard Kreisel, Prophecy: The History of an Idea in Medieval Jewish Philosophy (Dordrecht, Boston: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 2001), p. 38. See also Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, “Does Jewish Tradition Recognize an Ethics Independent of Halakha?” in Contemporary Jewish Ethics, ed. Menachem Kellner (New York: Sanhedrin Press, 1978), pp. 102–123.

[2] See Moshe Greenberg, “Some Postulates of Biblical Criminal Law,” and “The Biblical Concept of ‎Asylum,” in Moshe Greenberg, Studies in the Bible and Jewish Thought (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1995), pp. 25–50; Nahum M. Sarna, Exploring Exodus: The Origins of Biblical Israel (New York: Schocken, 1996), pp. 158–189. For a summary of the current state of scholarship and a discussion of religious implications pertaining to the comparison of the Torah to ancient Near Eastern literature, see Amnon Bazak, Ad HaYom HaZeh: She’elot Yesod BeLimud Tanakh, ed. Yoshi Farajun (Hebrew) (Tel-Aviv: Yediot Aharonot-Hemed, 2013), pp. 317–346.

[3] See, for example, Joshua Berman, Created Equal: How the Bible Broke with Ancient Political Thought (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008); Jeremiah Unterman, Justice for All: How the Bible Revolutionized Ethics (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2017).

[4] Yaakov Medan, HaMikraot HaMithaddeshim (Hebrew) (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2015), pp. 255-349, especially pp. 255–265. For a more expansive discussion, see Eugene Korn, “Moralization in Jewish Law: Genocide, Divine Commands, and Rabbinic Reasoning,” Edah Journal 5:2 (2006), at http://www.edah.org/backend/JournalArticle/KORN_5_2.pdf. Accessed June 19, 2018.

[5] For analysis of the debate between Rambam and Ramban, and of the apparent contradictions within Rambam’s writings on the subject of animal sacrifice, see Russell Jay Hendel, “Maimonides’ Attitude Towards Sacrifices,” Tradition 13:4–14:1 (Spring-Summer, 1973), pp. 163–179; David Henshke, “On the Question of Unity in Rambam’s Thought” (Hebrew), Da’at 37 (1996), pp. 37–51.

[6] See the eighteenth of Rabbi Hirsch’s Nineteen Letters. Russel Jay Hendel observes: “Rabbi Hirsch praises the Rambam for preserving medieval Judaism but also severely criticizes him for the effect the Moreh’s views were having at Rabbi Hirsch’s time. There is a difference in tone between the Ramban and Rabbi Hirsch. Ramban although using quite strong language, nevertheless is basically criticizing the view of the Rambam. Rabbi Hirsch however criticizes the methodology of the Rambam” (“Maimonides’ Attitude Towards Sacrifices,” p. 179, n. 48).

[7] See Isadore Twersky, Introduction to the Code of Maimonides (Mishneh Torah) (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980), pp. 374–484; David Henshke, “On the Question of Unity in Rambam’s Thought.”

[8] While this is Rambam’s view, it is not the only traditional rabbinic opinion. See survey and discussion in Marc B. Shapiro, The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles Reappraised (Oxford: The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 204), pp. 122–131.

[9] Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Devarim-Deuteronomy (Jerusalem: Eliner Library), pp. 187–194.

[10] For detailed analysis, see Elhanan Samet, Iyyunim BeParashot HaShavua (second series) vol. 1 (Hebrew) ed. Ayal Fishler (Ma’aleh Adumim: Ma’aliyot Press, 2004), pp. 377–397.

[11] Norman Lamm, “Amalek and the Seven Nations: A Case of Law vs. Morality,” in War and Peace in the Jewish Tradition, ed. Lawrence Schiffman and Joel B. Wolowelsky (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 2007), pp. 201–238. Nahum Rabinovitch, “The Way of Torah,” Edah Journal 3:1 (Tevet 5763), at http://www.edah.org/backend/coldfusion/search/document.cfm?title=The%20Way%20of%20Torah&hyperlink=rabin3_1%2Ehtm&type=JournalArticle&category=O…. Accessed June 19, 2018.

[12] Menachem Kellner, “‘And the Crooked Shall be Made Straight’: Twisted Messianic Visions, and a Maimonidean Corrective,” in Rethinking the Messianic Idea in Judaism, ed. Michael L. Morgan and Steven Weitzman (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2015), pp. 108-140 (I thank Professor Kellner for this reference). See also Moshe Halbertal, Maimonides: Life and Thought, trans. Joel Linsider (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014), pp. 223-228, 341-353; Aviezer Ravitsky, “‘To the Utmost of Human Capacity’: Maimonides on the Days of the Messiah,” in Perspectives on Maimonides: Philosophical and Historical Studies, ed. Joel L. Kraemer (Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 1996), pp. 221–256; Netanel Wiederblank, Illuminating Jewish Thought: Explorations of Free Will, the Afterlife, and the Messianic Era (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2018), pp. 547–556.

[13] Micah Goodman, Maimonides and the Book that Changed Judaism: Secrets of the Guide for the Perplexed (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2015), pp. 113–137.

[14] Nathan Lopes Cardozo, “The Deliberately Flawed Divine Torah,” at http://thetorah.com/the-deliberately-flawed-divine-torah/, accessed June 21, 2018.

[15] Nathan Lopes Cardozo, Jewish Law as Rebellion: A Plea for Religious Authenticity and Halachic Courage (Jerusalem: Urim, 2018), pp. 219–223.

[16] See Rabbi Cardozo’s further exploration of this idea in his book, Between Silence and Speech: Essays on Jewish Thought (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1995), pp. 1–12.

[17] In his commentary on the prayer book, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook suggests that in the messianic future, there will be only flour sacrifices, and no more animal sacrifice (Olat Re’iyah, 292; cf. Rabbi Kook’s LeNevukhei HaDor, chapter 10, where he suggests that if righteous people in the messianic era are unwilling to bring animal sacrifice, it is within the right of the Sanhedrin then to reinterpret the Torah so that only flour sacrifices will be offered). However, Rabbi Kook’s view is more complex based on his other writings. See Netanel Wiederblank, Illuminating Jewish Thought, pp. 557–572. See also Rabbi Haim David Halevy, Asei Lekha Rav 9:36, who espoused a similar position to that of Rabbi Kook in Olat Re’iyah. However, Rabbi Halevy elsewhere also insisted that the full sacrificial order will be restored in the messianic future. For analysis of Rabbi Halevy’s position, see Marc D. Angel and Hayyim Angel, Rabbi Haim David Halevy: Gentle Scholar and Courageous Thinker (Jerusalem: Urim, 2006), pp. 85–87. For a few other recent rabbis who suggested that there will not be animal sacrifices in the messianic future, see Marc B. Shapiro, The Limits of Orthodox Theology, pp. 128–130.

[18] For an excellent formulation of the inclusive position, see the Statement of Principles on the Place of Jews with a Homosexual Orientation in Our Community, at http://statementofprinciplesnya.blogspot.com/, accessed June 21, 2018. More broadly, see Chaim Rapoport, Judaism and Homosexuality: An Authentic Orthodox View (London: Vallentine Mitchell, 2004).

[19] See Menachem Kellner, “And Yet, the Texts Remain,” in The Gift of the Land and the Fate of the Canaanites in Jewish Thought (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014), pp. 153–179.

[20] See Hayyim Angel, “War Against Canaan: Divine and Human Perspectives,” in Angel, Creating Space between Peshat and Derash: A Collection of Studies on Tanakh (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav-Sephardic Publication Foundation, 2011), pp. 74-83; reprinted in Angel, Vision from the Prophet and Counsel from the Elders: A Survey of Nevi’im and Ketuvim (New York: OU Press, 2013), pp. 41–48; Yoel Bin-Nun, “HaMikra BeMabat Histori VehaHitnahlut HaYisraelit BeEretz Cena’an” (Hebrew), in HaPulmus al HaEmet HaHistorit BaMikra, ed. Yisrael L. Levin and Amihai Mazar (Yad Yitzhak Ben Zvi, Merkaz Dinur: 2002), pp. 3–16; Yoel Bin-Nun, “Sefer Yehoshua—Peshat VeDivrei Hazal” (Hebrew), in Musar Milhamah VeKibush (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 1994), pp. 31–40; Shalom Carmy, “The Origin of Nations and the Shadow of Violence: Theological Perspectives on Canaan and Amalek,” in War and Peace in the Jewish Tradition, pp. 163–199; Yaakov Medan, HaMikraot HaMithaddeshim, pp. 255–349.

[21] See further discussion in Amnon Bazak, Ad HaYom HaZeh, pp. 404-417. It is noteworthy that only in the 19^th century did Malbim raise the moral question of the mutilation (rather than quick execution) of Adoni-Bezek. Earlier generations of classical commentators did not.

[22] For further discussion, see Hayyim Angel, “Abarbanel: Commentator and Teacher: Celebrating 500 Years of his Influence on Tanakh Study,” Tradition 42:3 (Fall 2009), pp. 9–26; reprinted in Angel, Creating Space between Peshat and Derash: A Collection of Studies on Tanakh (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav-Sephardic Publication Foundation, 2011), pp. 1–24; Peshat Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to Bible Study (New York: Kodesh Press, 2014), pp. 80–104.

[23] Consistent with his position, Rambam maintained that monarchy will return to Israel in the messianic era (Hilkhot Melakhim 11:1). Scholars debate whether Abarbanel believed that there will be a monarchy in the messianic era. Yitzhak Baer and Leo Strauss maintained that Abarbanel believed that the messianic leader would function as a king for the nations but not for the Jews, a situation resembling the biblical period of the Judges. However, Eric Lawee observes that Abarbanel is explaining the position of Rabbi Hillel in the Talmud, rather than explicitly expressing his own personal view. It therefore is possible that Abarbanel himself expected some form of limited monarchy in the messianic era. For discussion and references, see Eric Lawee, Isaac Abarbanel’s Stance Toward Tradition: Defense, Dissent, and Dialogue (New York: SUNY Press, 2001), pp. 137–141 and pp. 266–267, notes 62, 70. I thank Professor Lawee for this reference.

Jacob, Esau and Us: Thoughts for Parashat Vayishlah

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Angel for Shabbat—Parashat Vayishlah

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel

“Now these are the generations of Esau—the same is Edom” (Bereishith 36:1).

The Torah devotes thirty verses informing us of the extended family of Esau, including lists of the various chiefs of the family divisions. Why would we need to know this genealogical listing since Esau was the rejected son of Isaac and Rebecca? The Torah will, of course, devote its full attention to Jacob and family, but why bother with the family and chiefs of Esau?

Perhaps we can gain some insight by considering the verse that precedes the Esau list. “And Isaac died and was gathered unto his people, old and full of days; and Esau and Jacob his sons buried him” (35:29). Esau and Jacob, twin brothers, come together to bury their father. In spite of the longstanding enmity between them, they were both sons of Isaac. Although the Torah’s story is ultimately about Jacob/Israel and family, it wants us to remember that Esau is also part of our family and part of our story. The togetherness of Jacob and Esau at Isaac’s burial is reminiscent of the togetherness of Isaac and Ishmael at the burial of their father Abraham.

In Midrashic typologies, Esau and Jacob are arch antagonists. Esau is portrayed as violent and wicked, the antithesis of the Godliness that Jacob typifies. They seem to represent an endless and non-reconcilable hatred. They seem to be engaged in an eternal zero sum battle: if one wins, the other loses.

It seems that way.

But the Torah, by devoting so much attention to Esau’s family and chiefs, is offering another way of seeing things. Jacob and Esau are brothers. They come together as family to bury their father. There is a great rift between them…but there is also the possibility of reconciliation.

The Torah wants us—the family of Jacob—to look more carefully at the family of Esau. It wants us to see that Esau’s clan also have virtues; they have leaders, family solidarity, traditions. They are still our relatives, in spite of all our differences.

By listing the clans of Esau, the Torah is suggesting that the ancient and deep antagonism doesn’t have to be forever. It is not a zero sum situation where one must win and one must lose. Rather, reconciliation is possible if both sides respect each other and see each other’s humanity. Both can win. There’s no reason for endless strife and competition.

Esau and Jacob standing together at Isaac’s burial symbolize the possibility of peace between brothers. In spite of all the enmity that plagued their relationship, they were able to come together as brothers. The Torah’s listing of Esau’s family means that they continue to be important to us.

Old rivalries and hatreds can be overcome. We can win together. With all our differences, we can find common ground. The Torah points the way.

Convivencia Achieved? Jews and Non-Jews in Haifa

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Rivka Kellner, PhD, is an English teacher; Menachem Kellner is her proud father and

Wolfson Professor Emeritus of Jewish Thought at the University of Haifa and founding chair

of the Shalem College Dept of Jewish Thought and Philosophy.

Convivencia Achieved? Jews and Non-Jews in Haifa

By Rivka Kellner and Menachem Kellne

Convivencia is the term often used to describe the coexistence of Jews and Muslims (and

Christians) in the so-called Golden Age of Spain. Jews in Haifa have not yet produced figures

like Bahya ibn Pakudah, Judah Halevi, or Maimonides, nor have the Arabs of Haifa produced

figures like Averroes, but, withal, Jews and Arabs do get along pretty well in Haifa. We are

here to report on that.

Last Simhat Torah we were blissfully unaware of what was happening down South. We

heard in synagogue that Hamas had fired a few rockets at Tel Aviv, but nothing more. Since that

day, our lives have been consumed by little else. After a day or so, we were led to expect that

Hezbollah would fire on Haifa, and people in my Rambam class were talking about buying

generators in case the electricity went out…in the event, I do not think any of them actually

did buy a generator.

Overall, aside from the scores of thousands of refugees from Israel’s North living in

hotels around the city (and our attempts to help them, Menachem with laundry and Rivka with

English lessons and packing toys) there was very little sense in Haifa that Israel is at war.

Glued to the news, of course, horrified at our losses and the undeniable Hamas-caused

suffering of Gazans, endlessly frustrated by our useless government (and all too often

embarrassed by it), daily life went on much as before. This includes the remarkably good

relations between Jews and Arabs in Haifa. Menachem used to joke that it is no surprise that

Jews and Arabs get along in Haifa, the real surprise was that Jews and Jews got along as well.

Jews and Arabs continue to get along well in Haifa, despite the war (or perhaps even because

of it, on that more below), thank God, but the anger at the Haredi community grows day by

day.

Rivka and Menachem wrote the above a month ago. Then the other shoe dropped.

Consciously or unconsciously, we are now constantly listening for missile and drone alerts.

When entering any enclosed space, be it a mall or a synagogue, we scan our surrounding for

the nearest shelter. Our building, ten stories, forty apartments, was erected in the early 70’s.

We are therefore lucky enough to have a safe room on every floor. Our building was certainly

advanced when it was built. New buildings have safe rooms in every apartment. Older

buildings usually have no safe rooms and no shelters.

It turns out that we have several new neighbors on our floor. We have usually seen them

bleary-eyed, confused, sporting the latest pajama attire, in our floor’s safe room in the middle

of the night after an air raid alert has most rudely ripped us out of our beds. More than once

Menachem was caught in the middle of shaharit if the alert came in the morning; he zoomed

into the safe room in tallit and tefilln (photos available on request). Our new neighbors are

recent immigrants from Ukraine who probably never saw tefillin before (and do not know

Hebrew or even English) --- the Tower of Babel has reached our safe room.

Having brought you up to date, as it were, we want to write about Haifa’s unique spread

of religions, and the way in which we all get along, despite the war, the alerts and the rockets

(which do not distinguish Jews from Arabs).

On an unremarkable day (as if any day during this war can be unremarkable), Rivka got

into a cab and noticed what was clearly a Muslim prayer book. She asked if she could look at it

(as a sign of respect to the driver) and, when she put it back down, she treated it like a siddur,

kissing the cover. She explained to the driver that halakhah mandates respectful treatment of

Jewish religious texts, and Rivka felt it appropriate to show respect to the texts of other

religions. This took place during Sukkot, and Rivka wished the driver a chag sameach (happy

holiday). She realized that he might have been offended since it was not his holiday, and she

said as much. He replied: “Why should I be offended? It is my holiday too --- I am also

Israeli.” (This is not the sort of story one will read concerning Haifa in the New York Times.)

In our experience Jews and Non-Jews in Haifa get along fine. Thus, for example, our favorite

neighborhood (kosher) coffee shop is jointly owned by a Jew and an Arab, staffed by a

variety of people, and enjoyed by the entire neighborhood. Did we not know his name, we

would not know that the Arab co-owner was an Arab (his Hebrew is certainly better than

Menachem’s!). Although the coffee shop is kosher, the clientele is diverse, including Arabs of

various types (although once we noticed that four of the patrons were members of our

synagogue).

Our family doctor has an Arab partner, Menachem’s rheumatologist is a Muslim woman

(no hijab, but she observes Ramadan, and thinks that two 25-hour Jewish fasts are harder than

Ramadan), almost all our pharmacists are Arabs.

Unlike taxis in Jerusalem (or New York), getting into a cab driven by an Arab does not

make Rivka nervous at all. Rivka freely engages these drivers into sometimes riveting

conversations about life, politics, and weather. Despite that, it seems to Rivka that

occasionally Arab “feminism” lags decades behind that of Jewish cabbies. Rivka suspects

that behind the rare examples of sexual harassment to which she was subjected, lay more than

“simple” sexism, but was also anti-Jewish honor-based overtone to the violence. Rivka

discussed these events with a different (Arab) cabbie, who though that she was over-reacting

and should be flattered.

One of Rivka’s cabbies told her that his relatives in Lebanon were not doing well (as is

the case with Palestinians there). Rivka handed him a 20 shekel note and asked him to try to find

a way to alleviate their suffering. He was moved beyond words.

But neither Rivka nor Menachem ever felt that the Arabs with whom they dealt (in

medical contexts, in malls, at the beach) harbored anti-Jewish prejudice. We have no idea what

people feel in their hearts, but so far as outward behavior is concerned, we have never seen

evidence of such prejudice.

Rivka has been laughingly called a JAP (Jewish American Princess); she always makes it

clear that she is a JIP (Jewish Israeli Princess). As such she is an expert on the many malls in

Haifa. In these malls she sees Jews, Muslims, Christians, and Druze working and shopping.

Recently she came across a cute little toddler who was being coaxed by his bemused mother

in Arabic to get up. Rivka crouched down next to the child and in Hebrew, English and broken

Arabic tried to get him to get up. The little angel smiled, got up, and gave Rivka a hug she

will never forget. She put her hand on his head and blessed him--and earned a smile from

the mother, who was clearly pleased.

Rivka teaches supplementary English to school children of all ages in a community

Center here in Haifa. Yesterday, one of her breaks between lessons was rudely interrupted by a

siren. Rivka was pleasantly surprised by the way in which children and teachers all filed down to

the bomb shelter in an orderly fashion. When the mandatory 10 minutes were over, and

HKBH took care of them all, and nothing blew up, class resumed as if nothing had happened.

Rivka was impressed by the calm of her students and saddened that they appear unfazed by

the experience. No child should be used to such an event. It was clear to Rivka that we

protect our children, and do not use them as human shields.

Not long ago, Menachem stopped at a convenience store to pick up some milk. A

customer with a complicated issue was there before him. The customer told Menachem to go

ahead of him, since all he wanted was a liter of milk. Menachem complimented the customer for

allowing an older person to get ahead of him. Mustafa (as his name turned out to be) replied:

“it all depends on how one is raised at home.”

Why do matters work so well in Haifa? For one thing, we have a huge number of Russian

olim, strongly secular and usually very cultured, who help balance the growing Haredi

presence. For another thing, our Arab population is largely Christian and highly educated

(one of them, Prof. Mouna Maroun, a neuroscientist and expert in post-trauma stress disorder,

was recently elected to be the university’s rector). There are several varieties of Christians,

several of whom we know from our years at the University of Haifa. Among the Muslims,

very few of them appear to be Shi’ites and there is a large population of Ahmedi Muslims

whose religion commits them to peaceful coexistence

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahmadiyya). Rivka and Menachem were invited to their

annual convocation twice, where we were given kosher food! There are also Druze, most of

whom are fervent Israeli patriots, and of course Bahai

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bah%C3%A1%CA%BC%C3%AD_World_Centre). All of the

Arabs in Haifa know well that they would be murdered by Hamas and Hezbollah. This

mosaic of non-Jewish religions and their relative assimilation helps explain Haifa’s unique

success.

We do not want to give the impression that all is hunky dory here in Haifa. We both find

the war enervating and feel that we are suffering from Pre-Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. We

are also living through an old (once almost amusing) joke: 1/3 of Israelis pay taxes, 1/3 of

Israelis do army service, and 1/3 of Israelis work for a living. The problem is that it is the

same 1/3! Our shambolic government is trying to sell out that 1/3 in order to keep

Haredim in the government

Convivencia between Jews and Arabs in Haifa is strong. Convivencia between those

Jews who serve (and die) and contribute to Israeli society and those Jews who feel no obligation

whatsoever to do so, is getting weaker by the day. That may be another cost of the war.

Joseph, Judah and Us: Thoughts for Parashat Vayiggash

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Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Vayiggash

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel

This week’s Torah reading features a confrontation between two brothers—Joseph and Judah. Joseph had contrived to arrest Benjamin and keep him in Egypt. Judah approached Joseph with an impassioned plea to save Benjamin, volunteering himself to stay as slave instead. Joseph is so moved by Judah’s words that he reveals himself as a brother. As the story unfolds, Joseph’s brothers return to their father Jacob and the entire family relocate in the land of Egypt.

In his thoughts on the Parasha, Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz contrasts Joseph and Judah. Joseph was handsome, the favorite of his father; he went on to become a high official in Egypt, second only to Pharaoh. Joseph is known in Jewish tradition as Yosef Ha-Tsaddik, Joseph the righteous. He was an exemplary person. By contrast, Judah was far from perfect. The Torah describes Judah’s sinful behavior toward Joseph, and toward his daughter-in-law Tamar. Yet, Judah was the only brother with courage to confront Joseph to plead for Benjamin’s freedom. Rabbi Steinsaltz suggests that Joseph typifies a Tsaddik, a naturally righteous person; and Judah represents a ba’al teshuva, a sinner who has turned from a sinful past and has emerged as a righteous person.

Joseph was handsome, wise, and righteous by nature. By contrast, Judah had to overcome faults. His strength was in his ability to rise up after failure. He could admit error and improve his ways.

Joseph and Judah, in a sense, symbolize the two tablets of the Ten Commandments. One set was shattered by Moses when he found the children of Israel worshipping a golden calf. The other set remained intact as Moses brought it down a second time. The Talmud states that the broken pieces of the first set were placed in the ark together with the intact set (Berakhot 8b). Both, together, served as the spiritual foundation of Israel.

Similarly, Joseph—the intact set—and Judah—the broken tablets—jointly serve as models of leadership. Joseph is blessed with unblemished righteousness. He is dignified; he has amazing organizational and managerial skills; he leads by setting an example of righteousness and efficiency. Judah leads by dint of his resilience, determination and courage. He learns from his mistakes. In times of crisis, Judah rises like a lion, fearless and strong.

We need the Josephs and the Judahs working together for the wellbeing of our people and our world. We need honest, talented leaders like Joseph; we need courageous and forceful leaders like Judah.

But for our people to flourish, we not only need Josephs and Judahs. We need an entire community committed to the highest values of our tradition. We need to raise a new generation of Josephs and Judahs-- proud, capable and courageous Jews. Each of us has a role to play.

Religion and Superstition: A Maimonidean Approach

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Rabbi Marc D. Angel is Founder and Director of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals, and editor of its journal, Conversations. This article appeared in issues 3 and 12 of Conversations, Winter 2012.

Judaism seeks to bring us closer to God through proper thought and deed. Superstition seeks to circumvent God's power through the use of magical formulae or rituals. While Judaism demands intellectual and moral excellence and a direct relationship with God, superstition provides purported means of bypassing or manipulating God in order to ward off evil or to achieve some other desired goal.

Since religion and superstition ultimately transcend the domain of human reason, it is possible to blur the lines between the two. The Torah is emphatic in commanding that we not turn to shamans or wonderworkers, but that we stay focused on our personal relationship with God. "There shall not be found among you anyone... who uses divination, a soothsayer, or an enchanter, or a sorcerer, or a charmer, or one who consults a ghost or a familiar spirit, or a necromancer. For whoever does these things is an abomination unto the Lord" (Devarim 18:10-12).

Rambam clarifies the boundaries between religion and superstition in his discussion about using incantations to heal a wound:

Anyone who whispers a charm over a wound and reads a verse from the Torah, or one who recites a biblical verse over a child lest he be terrified, or one who places a Torah scroll or tefillin over an infant to enable him to sleep, are not only included in the category of sorcerers and charmers, but are included among those who repudiate the Torah. They use the words of the Torah as a physical cure, whereas they are exclusively a cure for the soul, as it is written, ‘they will be life to your soul.' On the other hand, one who is enjoying good health is permitted to recite biblical verses, or a psalm, that he may be shielded and saved from affliction and damage by virtue of the reading. (Hilkhot Avoda Zara, 11:12)

What are the characteristics of those individuals who "repudiate the Torah"? 1) They treat biblical verses as though they are magic formulae that can effect a cure. 2) They use religious objects e.g. Torah scroll, tefillin, as though they are endowed with independent magical powers. 3) They resort to incantations and magical rituals, rather than turning directly to God. In short, they behave superstitiously, rather than religiously.

If we were to confront these individuals, though, they would be surprised to be placed in the category of those who "repudiate the Torah". They might well think of themselves as being pious, Torah-true Jews. After all, they have not gone to soothsayers or diviners for help; they have recited the holy words of the Bible and have used religious items of our own Jewish tradition. Wherein have they sinned? The Rambam would answer: even if a person employs Torah words and symbols, he/she may yet be guilty of sinful behavior. To use the Torah's words and symbols in a superstitious way is also superstition! Indeed, such behavior repudiates the Torah's express teaching that we turn directly to God and that we not engage in magical practices.

The Rambam notes that if a healthy person chants biblical verses in the hope that the merit of this mitzvah will invite God's protection, this is still on the correct side of the line separating religion from superstition. The person is not attributing intrinsic supernatural power to the biblical verses; rather, he is directing his thoughts to God Himself, and hopes that the merit of his biblical readings will engender God's protection. Although this may not be an example of religion at its best, it is permissible-and not in the category of repudiating the Torah.

In the laws of Mezuzah (5:4), Rambam cites another case in which he distinguishes between religious and superstitious behavior.

There is a widespread custom to write the word Shaddai on the outer side of the Mezuzah, opposite the blank space between the two sections. Since it is written on the outside, there is no harm done. On the other hand, those who write inside the Mezuzah names of angels or names of saintly men, some biblical verse or some charms, are included among those who have no share in the world to come. Those fools not only fail to fulfill the commandment but they treat an important precept, which conveys God's Oneness as well as the love and worship of Him, as if it were an amulet to benefit themselves, since they foolishly believe that the Mezuzah is something advantageous for the vain pleasures of this world.

Here, too, the Rambam chastises those who treat a religious object as though it were a magical charm. People are included among "those who have no share in the world to come" even if they themselves may think they are acting piously. Rambam makes it clear that superstitious behavior-even if cloaked in traditional religious symbols-is a serious transgression of the Torah's teachings.

What leads people to superstitious behavior? Why doesn't everyone realize the foolishness of employing magical incantations and rites? Why would people rely on superstitious behavior rather than turning directly to God with their prayers?

Here are a few reasons:

True religion demands a lot from us. Superstition demands very little. True religion requires that we confront God directly. Superstition offers short cuts, ways to bypass that awe-inspiring confrontation with God.
Superstitious practices have been sanctioned by generations of people who seem to have religious credibility. If these great ones believed in demons and made amulets, then these things must be permissible (in spite of the Rambam's rulings).
When people are afraid and desperate, they may suspend their reason in order to adopt superstitious practices-"just in case" these might be efficacious. Why take chances by not trying everything?
A great challenge for religious leadership is to wean people from superstitious tendencies and bring them closer to God. People need to be reminded to use their reason, rather than to surrender to a mindless supernaturalism. The Torah itself was well aware of the human weakness of turning to diviners and magicians-and the Torah strictly forbade such practices that obstruct a direct relationship with God. Religion teaches responsibility, careful thinking, and reliance on God. Superstition promotes avoidance of personal responsibility, suspension of rational thinking, and reliance on supernatural forces other than God.

There are pressures within contemporary Orthodox Jewish life that foster a superstitious, rather than a true religious, view of Judaism. On the surface, these negative factors appear in the garb of religious words and symbols; yet, just as in the misuse of Torah scrolls, tefillin and mezuzot cited in the passages from Rambam earlier, these tendencies reflect the unfortunate and misguided features of superstition. That these behaviors pass themselves off as being authentic Orthodox Judaism should be a source of concern and anguish to all thinking Orthodox Jews.

Examples:

1. I (along with many others) periodically receive a brochure from an organization that provides charity to needy individuals and families. The brochure includes abundant pictures of saintly-looking men with long white beards, engaged in Torah study and prayer, and signing their names on behalf of this charity. The brochure promises us that "the Gedolei Hador are the official members of the organization." One of the Gedolei Hador is quoted to say: "All who contribute to [this charity] merit to see open miracles." We are asked to contribute to this cause so that the Gedolei Hador will pray on our behalf. We even are given choices of what merit we would like to receive from these prayers: to have nahat from our children; to have children; to find a worthy mate; to earn an easy livelihood. "Urgent requests are immediately forwarded to the home of the Gedolei Hador." If we are willing to contribute so much per name, we are guaranteed that a minyan of outstanding talmidei hakhamim will pray for us at the Kotel. If we contribute a lesser amount, we only will have the prayer recited by one outstanding talmid hakham. We are also told that we can write our request as a kvitel and it will be placed in the Kotel for forty days; we can even transmit our prayer requests by telephone hotline, after we have made a contribution via credit card.

This charity purports not only to be Torah-true, but to have the involvement and backing of the Gedolei Hador. Anyone looking at the brochure would see this as an Orthodox Jewish charity operated by highly religious individuals.

Let us grant that this is indeed a worthy charity that provides assistance to needy Jews. Let us grant that the people who operate this charity see themselves as pious Jews of the highest caliber, literally linked to the Gedolei Hador. Yet, the brochure is not an example of true religion at all, but of something far more akin to superstition.

Is it appropriate for a Gadol Hador to assure contributors that they will be worthy of open miracles? Can anyone rightfully speak on behalf of the Almighty's decisions relating to doing open miracles? Doesn't this statement reflect a belief that prayers uttered by so-called sages (similar to incantations uttered by shamans?!) can control God's actions, even to the extent of making Him do miracles?

Moreover, why should people be made to feel that they are not qualified to pray to God directly? Why should "religious leaders" promote the notion that if people will pay money, some pious individual will recite a prayer at the Kotel-and that the prayer uttered by such an individual at the Kotel is more efficacious than one's own prayers? How tasteless and contrary to religious values is the notion that a minyan of outstanding talmidei hakhamim will pray if you pay enough; but only one will pray for you if you choose to contribute less than the recommended sum?

In this brochure, dressed as it is in the garb of Torah-true religion, we have a blatant example of superstition-tainted Judaism. The leaders of this organization assume: 1) Gedolei Hador (we are not told who decides who is a Gadol Hador, nor why any Gadol Hador would want to run to the Kotel to pray every time a donor called in an "urgent request") have greater powers to pray than anyone else. 2) A Gadol Hador can promise us open miracles if we send in a donation. 3) A prayer uttered at the holy site of the Kotel has more value than a prayer uttered elsewhere i.e. the Kotel is treated as a sacred, magical entity. 4) A kvitel placed in a crevice in the Kotel has religious value and efficacy. This brochure relies on the public's gullible belief in the supernatural powers of Gedolei Hador and the Kotel.

Lest one think this charity is the only Orthodox Jewish group that promotes a superstitious (rather than truly religious) viewpoint, one may do a google search and find others who do pretty much the same thing. The Wailing Wall Kvitel Service advertises that it will deliver your personal prayers or requests to the Lord "even if you cannot travel to the holy land to visit Jerusalem in person." We are assured that once this Service receives our kvitel and donation, the kvitel will be placed between the stones of the Kotel and "you will receive a postcard from the wailing wall."

Nor is this behavior restricted to the "hareidi" sector of Orthodoxy. One website informs us that Jews and non-Jews have long had the practice of writing their private thoughts and prayers and having them inserted into the cracks of the Kotel "in the firm belief that at this holiest of locales God is always present and listening." (Doesn't Judaism believe that God is always present and listening everywhere?) The sponsors of this website which promises to insert the kvitels "on a same day basis", have also arranged with a kollel in Jerusalem to have Tehillim recited for the ill or to have Torah studied in someone's memory. This program is staffed by volunteers of the Orthodox Union, a mainstream Orthodox organization!

The Jewish Press of March 19, 2008 reported on the trip to Israel by Senator John McCain who traveled with Senator Joe Lieberman. The article included a photograph of Senator McCain placing a kvitel in the Kotel! He obviously was told that this was the "religiously correct" thing to do, bringing this practice to another level of public acceptance. Senator Barack Obama, on his recent trip to Israel, also placed a kvitel in the Kotel, also having been advised that this was the proper thing to do.

The Jerusalem Post (April 15, 2008) ran a news item reporting that the Rabbi of the Kotel and his assistants clean out the kvitels from the Kotel twice a year, before Pessah and Rosh HaShanah. They do so in order to make room for the millions of kvitels that come in from all over the world, from Jews and non-Jews. The kvitels are put into plastic-lined bins and then brought to the Mount of Olives cemetery for burial. The custom of the kvitels is raised to a level of holiness.

Certainly, those who write kvitels do so with a sense of piety, with a sincere desire to get their prayers to God. Yet, shouldn't religious leaders be telling people that they ought to bring their prayers to God-by praying directly to Him. There is no need whatever to write out prayers for deposit in the Kotel. On the contrary, this practice smacks of superstition, relying on magical powers that are attributed to the Kotel rather than on direct prayer to God.

Defenders of the kvitel practice will argue: this is an age-old custom, approved or tolerated by great sages; this is a harmless custom that doesn't hurt anyone; this is a way for people to feel that their words will have a better chance of reaching God. In response, we can say that there are various beliefs and practices that were approved or tolerated by great sages in the past-but that are more akin to superstition than religion e.g. belief in demons (sheidim and mazikim), writing and wearing magical amulets, conducting ceremonies to ward off evil spirits etc. The fact that great people believed or did these things does not make these things correct. The Rambam condemned those who used Torah scrolls, tefillin or mezuzot as magic charms-and I would assume that there were rabbis before (and after) his time who approved or tolerated these practices. The Rambam attempted to make people see the difference between religion and superstition; unfortunately, not everyone wanted to accept this distinction, but preferred to remain attached to superstitious beliefs and practices.

Superstitious practices do cause harm. According to Rambam, severe punishments (including loss of one's portion in the world to come!) are meted out to those who engage in superstitious rites. Moreover, a superstitious approach to Judaism undermines its intellectual and rational foundations, treating it more as a cult than a religion. This is a vast disservice to Judaism, and turns intelligent and reasonable people away from Torah.

People may feel that superstitious behavior is a way to gain supernatural results-but this feeling is repudiated by the Torah. Rabbis and teachers need to remind the community that one need not-and should not-seek superstitious means of controlling or appeasing God. Rather, people should be reminded of their right and responsibility to pray directly to God on their own, without needing to resort to the supposed powers of holy men, holy objects, holy places.

2. Another example of the fostering of superstition over religion relates to the recitation of the mourner's kaddish. The kaddish is a beautiful prayer, glorifying God's greatness and redemptive power. The text of the kaddish is ancient, and originally was recited as a prayer following a Torah study session (Sotah 49a). It seems to have been adopted as a mourner's prayer only in the 13th century, and became a widespread practice throughout the Jewish world with the passage of time.

Certainly, the kaddish has become imbued with deep emotion and religious feeling among mourners. It is meritorious for a mourner to chant this prayer, as a means of showing respect for the memory of a loved one and even as a way to add merit to the soul of the deceased.

Yet, it must be remembered that the kaddish is a prayer, not a magical incantation. A member of my Congregation, originally from Israel, recently returned to Israel for the burial of his father and for the Shiva period. A rabbi of the Hevra Kaddisha there informed him that he was obligated to say kaddish each day in order to get his father into heaven. If the mourner was not sure he could say kaddish each day, he should pay the Hevra Kaddisha a certain sum, and they would guarantee a daily recital of kaddish-thereby insuring the father's acceptance into heaven.

My congregant called me to ascertain whether the rabbi of the Hevra Kaddisha was giving him correct information. The answer: it is virtuous to recite the kaddish, and it is virtuous to give charity. When a mourner does virtuous deeds in memory of a deceased loved one, this is a tribute to the deceased. In some spiritual sense, the righteous deeds of the mourners may bring repose to the soul of the loved one. Moreover, the recitation of kaddish helps the mourner cope more meaningfully with the loss of a loved one.

However, it is not correct to treat the kaddish as a magic formula. Until the 13th century, kaddish was not recited for deceased loved ones-and yet surely God did not deprive them of their eternal reward. Also, God is the One who alone deals with the souls of the departed, and He surely judges people fairly. It would be ludicrous to think that God withholds justice depending on whether a mourner recites kaddish or not.

For many Jews, including pious Orthodox Jews, kaddish is treated as though it is a magic incantation rather than a prayer glorifying God's greatness. People go to extraordinary lengths to recite the kaddish in a minyan. In itself, this is a virtue. Yet, if they do so because they believe the kaddish is a magic formula to gain entry to heaven for the deceased, then the practice obviously passes into the domain of superstition.

3. Another indication of superstitious trends in Jewish life is the tendency to rely on "good luck" charms e.g. red string tied around the wrist; food or drink blessed by certain kabbalistic sages. I have known cases of otherwise rational people who have turned to "wonder workers" for help in saving a mortally ill loved one. Medical doctors have been unable to save the patient; out of desperation, relatives have asked for "spiritual" cures. In one case, a "saintly" rabbi was flown in from Israel to pray at the bedside of a dying child. (The child unfortunately died.) In another case, a "saintly" rabbi received a contribution after which he sent to a sick patient a bottle of Arak that he had blessed. (That patient also died.) It happens sometimes that people recover from their illnesses. When they do, they are ready to swear that the cure was the result of intervention by the saintly person who prayed for them or sent them holy things to eat or drink. This gives further fuel for desperately ill people to turn to magic workers for help; after all, it might do some good!

Although we can understand-and even sympathize-with this attitude, we must also state clearly that it represents a turn away from true religion and a turn toward superstition. As such, we should be teaching people to avoid falling into this way of thought and behavior. We should be urging people not to rely on red strings, or amulets, or foods/drinks blessed by "saintly" people: rather, they should turn their hearts and minds and souls entirely to God.

Rambam: Judaism and Reason

Rambam stressed the need for human beings to use their power of reason. Superstition is the antithesis of reason, and therefore a false path to truth. While philosophers surely understand this, what are we supposed to do with the masses who are more prone to fall into the ways of superstition? The answer is: we must teach the masses a philosophically sound and rational approach to religion. We must encourage people to use their powers of reason.

Rambam disdained those who were content to espouse truth on the basis of blind faith, without attempting to establish the intellectual foundations of truth. People who do not use their reason are deficient even in their faith; they are prone to superstition and are gullible to the pronouncements of charismatic (even if misguided) authority figures.

Rambam pointed out that there are things accepted as truth-which are not in fact true. Human reason is necessary as a constant and reliable agent to challenge, verify or reject long-held "truths". Just because a great authority taught something does not ensure that it is true. Indeed, truth stands on its own merit, not on the basis of the opinions of human beings.

For when something has been demonstrated, the correctness of the matter is not increased and certainty regarding it is not strengthened by the consensus of all men of knowledge with regard to it. Nor could its correctness be diminished and certainty regarding it be weakened even if all the people on earth disagreed with it.(Guide, II:13)

In his Mishneh Torah (Laws of Sanctification of the New Moon, 17:24), Rambam states that many books on astronomy and mathematics were composed by Greek sages. Similar works by ancient Jewish sages of the tribe of Issachar have not come down to us.

Since all these rules have been established by sound and clear proofs, free from any flaw and irrefutable, we need not be concerned about the identity of their authors, whether they be Hebrew Prophets or Gentile sages. For when we have to do with rules and propositions which have been demonstrated by good reasons and have been verified to be true by sound and flawless proofs, we rely upon the author who has discovered them or transmitted them only because of his demonstrated proofs and verified reasoning.

Intelligent people need to distinguish between what is true and what is spurious. Surely, we may rely on the wisdom of the prophets and rabbinic sages, just as we rely on the advice of skilled physicians or experts in other fields. Yet, even when receiving advice from these authorities, we should not suspend personal judgment altogether. In his Epistle to Yemen, Rambam warns:

Do not consider a statement true because you find it in a book, for the prevaricator is as little restrained with his pen as with his tongue. For the untutored and uninstructed are convinced of the veracity of a statement by the mere fact that it is written; nevertheless its accuracy must be demonstrated in another manner.[1]

Just because "authorities" and "scholars" have claimed something to be true does not make it true. Rambam, in his Letter on Astrology, remarks that "fools have composed thousands of books of nothingness and emptiness".[2] Men "great in years but not in wisdom" wasted much time studying these worthless books and came to think of themselves as experts. They taught nonsense to the public, imagining that they were conveying truth. Unsuspecting people believed these "experts" because they seemed to be erudite and convincing.

Rambam explains that we should only accept something as reliably true if it belongs to one of three categories. 1) It is proven clearly by human reasoning such as arithmetic, geometry and astronomy. 2) It is perceived with certainty through one of the five senses. 3) It is received from the prophets or the righteous. In considering whether or not something is true, we must determine through which category we have derived its truthfulness. If we cannot verify something through one of these three categories, we cannot accept it as being true.

A dilemma arises. Rambam categorically rejects the validity of astrology, considering it a foolish superstition rather than a bona fide science. Yet, the Talmud and Midrashim record the opinions of righteous sages who themselves seemed to ascribe veracity to astrology! Thus, by Rambam's own standards of determining truth, shouldn't we believe in astrology since we have received this belief from the righteous? Rambam resolves this seeming problem:

It is not proper to abandon matters of reason that have already been verified by proofs, shake loose of them, and depend on the words of a single one of the sages from whom possibly the matter was hidden. Or there may be an allusion in those words; or they may have been said with a view to the times and the business before him. You surely know how many of the verses of the holy Torah are not to be taken literally. Since it is known through proofs of reason that it is impossible for the thing to be literally so, the Targum [Aramaic translator of the Torah] rendered it in a form that reason will abide. A man should never cast his reason behind him, for the eyes are set in front, not in back.[3]

Once we have verified the truth of something on the basis of reason, we should not accept the literal meaning of texts that contradict this verified truth. If a sage has made a statement that violates a proven truth, then either 1) he was mistaken; 2) he was speaking in allegorical or poetic language, not to be taken literally; 3) he was speaking within the context of his time and place. If the Torah itself-which is Truth-records something that contradicts verified truth, then the Torah must be interpreted to conform to this established truth. For Rambam, it is axiomatic that the Torah of Truth cannot teach something that violates rational truth.

Rambam argued that reason was the best antidote to falling into a superstitious mindset. With all the risks of allowing people to use their reason, he thought it was essential to put religion on a philosophically sound basis. It was religiously and intellectually wrong to foster a fundamentalist, obscurantist, literalist view of religion that ascribed irrational teachings to the Bible and our Sages. If it is dangerous to rely on reason, it is even more dangerous to violate reason.

Conclusion:

There are strong tendencies in our day (evident in other religions, as well as Judaism) that foster authoritarianism, obscurantism, and fundamentalism. These tendencies promote uncritical thinking, surrender of autonomy, and reliance on holy "authorities". These are ingredients that make for a superstitious worldview rather than a truly religious worldview.

Rambam's insistence on our use of reason is of vital importance to all who would like to reclaim a philosophically-sound Judaism. Rambam teaches us to separate between true religion and superstition; between direct confrontation with God and spurious use of magical charms and incantations; between proper teachers of Torah and counterfeit "sages" who play on human weakness and ignorance.

It is a central challenge of modern Orthodoxy to foster an intellectually meaningful Judaism; to combat tendencies toward superstitious belief and action; to encourage individual responsibility and direct relationship with God. It is time to reclaim the lofty vision of Rambam of a Torah Judaism rooted in reason, that leads to a life of "lovingkindness, righteousness and judgment" (Guide 3:54).

[1] A Maimonides Reader, ed. Isidore Twersky (Springfield: Behrman House, 1972), p.454. For a fine discussion of Rambam's views on superstition, see Marc B. Shapiro, "Maimonidean Halakhah and Superstition", in his book Studies in Maimonides and his Interpreters, University of Scranton Press, Scranton and London, 2008, pp.95-150.

[2] Ibid., pp. 464-5.

[3] Ibid., p. 472.

Surprised by Anti-Semitism? Yes and No.

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Rabbi Marc D. Angel is Director of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals. This article appeared in the Jewish Journal of Los Angeles, December 23, 2024.

Although Jews have faced anti-Semitism from time immemorial, it always comes upon us as something new. It surprises us. We don’t understand it.

We strive to be good people, good citizens; we are kind hearted and generous. We devote ourselves to the education of our children, to the betterment of society, to justice and compassion. We have our share of faults along with all other human beings; but by and large, we are a good, responsible, hard-working community.

And yet, no matter what we do, people hate us! They don’t see us as individual human beings but as a vast stereotype. They don’t care if we are religious or not religious; if we are liberals or conservatives. If we are Jewish, they are against us and want to hurt us.

It was once thought that the establishment of the State of Israel would bring anti-Semitism to an end. After all, Jews would then have a feeling of security in the world, a safe haven where no one would bother us.

But the Jewish State has simply become a new target for the anti-Semites. They now couch Jew-hatred for hatred of “the Zionists.” Anti-Semites don’t have a problem with Hamas firing thousands of missiles at civilian centers in Israel; but when Israel responds by bombing the enemy, Israel is immediately condemned and vilified by the haters. For the anti-Semites, Israel is always wrong regardless of what it does or doesn't do.

Happily, there are many millions of people who feel warmly toward Jews and the Jewish State. Happily, many millions of people admire the accomplishments of the State of Israel in the face of so many obstacles; they respect Israel’s right—and obligation—to defend its citizens.

But when we see outbreaks of blatant anti-Jewish violence, anti-Jewish rhetoric, anti-Israel demonization—it surprises and pains us! In spite of thousands of years dealing with anti-Jewish hatred and persecution, we still are not used to it. We somehow think that humanity will improve, will judge us fairly. We grow optimistic at any sign of peace and understanding, mutual cooperation and solidarity.

We keep telling ourselves that most people are good and that reason will ultimately prevail. The haters will eventually overcome malice and violence; they will realize the value of peaceful and respectful cooperation. In a world of over seven billion human beings, surely there must be room for the infinitesimal presence of 15 million Jews. In a world with so many countries, surely there must be room for one tiny Jewish State that wants nothing more than to be able to live in peace and security.

But the anti-Semites and anti-Zionists don’t really care. They don’t want to be reasoned with; they don’t want to listen. They have their agenda of hate.

Saul Bellow, the American novelist who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1976, wrote in his book To Jerusalem and Back: A Personal Account: “…There is one fact of Jewish life unchanged by the creation of a Jewish state: you cannot take your right to live for granted. Others can; you cannot. This is not to say that everyone else is living pleasantly and well under a decent regime. No, it means only that the Jews, because they are Jews, have never been able to take the right to live as a natural right….This right is still clearly not granted them, not even in the liberal West.”

Bellow’s complaint is not new. Jews throughout the generations have had to face the same stark reality: Jews, because they are Jews, cannot take the right to live as a natural right.

That’s the sad part of the story.

But that’s not the end of the story. Even if there has long been hatred and violence directed against Jews…we are still here! We continue to live, to thrive, to hope.

The late Jewish thinker, Simon Rawidowicz, wrote an essay about “Israel: the Ever-Dying People.” He noted that Jews have often felt that theirs was the last Jewish generation. Jewish survival seemed hopeless. But although we were “ever-dying,” we were in fact ever-living! We often felt despair; but hope and persistence prevailed. Jews found ways to overcome all who would decimate us.

Although current manifestations of anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism are ugly and painful, we must take the long view of things. This isn’t the first period of Jewish history where Jews faced viciousness and violence. It likely won’t be the last period either. But long experience has taught us to stay strong, stay confident, stay positive. The challenge to our generation is to stand tall as Jews, to stand strong on behalf of Israel.

And we do look forward to a time when humanity will overcome the disease of anti-Semitism. Meanwhile, we recall the words of Rav Nahman of Bratslav: All the world is a narrow bridge; the essential thing is not to be afraid, not to be afraid at all.

Dignity and Inner Strength: Thoughts for Parashat Mikkets

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Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Mikkets

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel

“And Pharaoh called Joseph Zaphenath Paneah…” (Bereishith 41:45).

When Pharaoh elevated Joseph to high office, he gave Joseph an Egyptian name. Egyptologists have suggested various translations of this name: “the god speaks and he lives;” or “says the god, he will live;” or “food-man of the life.”

Jewish exegetes sought to translate Zaphenath Paneah as though it had roots in Hebrew language. Targum Onkelos translated it as “the man to whom hidden things are revealed.” Rashi interpreted it as “explainer of hidden things.” Other commentators have similarly defined the name as relating to Joseph’s talent in revealing secrets.

Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin, a 19^th century rabbinic sage known widely as the Netziv, offered an interesting analysis in his Torah commentary, Ha’amek Davar. Also seeking Hebrew roots for Zaphenath Paneah, he suggested that the “pa” of Paneah refers to glory and honor (hofa’ah); and the “neah” alludes to pleasantness and spiritual contentment (nahat). Pharaoh gave Joseph this name because he detected something amazing about Joseph, beyond ability to decipher dreams.

Pharaoh wondered: here was a young Hebrew slave who has spent long months in prison. How could someone with this background appear to be entirely comfortable assuming a position of great power and leadership? How was Joseph able to carry himself with so much confidence? Pharaoh intuited that Joseph was inherently not a slave at all; rather, Joseph had natural poise; he carried himself as a nobleman. So Pharaoh gave him a name that meant: a man who has hidden powers of glory, leadership, and serenity.

While the Netziv’s etymological theory is questionable, his psychological insight is apt. Although many people would have viewed Joseph as a lowly slave, Pharaoh was perceptive to see the “real” Joseph. He was impressed with Joseph’s self-image as a dignified, competent human being. The key to Joseph’s greatness was that he did not let negative external circumstances undermine his own self-worth.

People—especially those who suffer from various kinds of discrimination—need the strength of character to withstand negative pressures. One must be strong to avoid internalizing feelings of inferiority.

Dr. Bruno Bettelheim, who had been a Jewish prisoner in a German concentration camp, wrote that prisoners feared not only for their physical lives; they feared that they would come to see themselves as the Nazis saw them—as animals. “The main problem is to remain alive and unchanged…the more absolute the tyranny, the more debilitated the subject.”

The Jewish People have understood this idea very well. We have been subjected to all sorts of abuse, calumnies, lies, ugly stereotypes. Some Jews, unfortunately, lost their pride and self-confidence; they withered under pressure. But the masses of Jews—like Joseph—maintained their inner nobility, idealism, and self-respect.

Rabbi Ephraim Oshry, who survived the Kovno ghetto, wrote a book, “Mima’amakim,” in which he recorded his responses to various questions put to him during the Holocaust years. One person inquired whether it was still appropriate to recite the morning blessing thanking God “for not having made me a slave.” After all, Jews were indeed reduced to slave conditions.

Rabbi Oshry replied that one must continue to say the blessing, to remind himself that he is not innately a slave, that God did not create him to be a slave, that he should not internalize a slave mentality. It is vital to retain self-awareness of who we really are; we must not surrender our inner identity to the wicked oppressors who seek to debase us.

Joseph set a model of maintaining pride, dignity and self-worth even in difficult conditions. It’s a model relevant to us today.

Bridging Tradition and the Academy

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Rabbi Hayyim Angel is National Scholar of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals and teaches Tanakh at Yeshiva University. This article appeared in Jewish Bible Quarterly 50:1 (2022), pp. 19–35 and is reprinted in issue 44 of Conversations.)

Bridging Tradition and the Academy:
The Literary-Theological School in Orthodox Bible Study 1

Introduction

Traditional Judaism includes core beliefs in prophecy, the divine revelation of the Torah
through Moses, and the existence of an Oral Law that accompanies the Written Torah. Although
the precise parameters of these beliefs have been debated over the millennia, these general
axioms form the heart and soul of Jewish religious encounter with the Torah. 2

Beginning in the seventeenth century with the philosophers Spinoza and Hobbes, and
moving through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries with Liberal Protestant critical Bible
scholarship, these and other basic religious foundations came under attack by a host of studies
and new assumptions. Simultaneously, critical Bible methodology brought with it fresh questions
and tools that could enhance traditional Bible study. 3

Over the past two centuries, analysis of literary tools, comparative linguistics, and the
discovery of a wealth of ancient texts and artifacts have contributed immensely to our
understanding the rich tapestry and complexity of biblical texts. Much also has improved since
the 1970s as a result of the literary revolution in biblical scholarship. After generations of
dissecting the Torah and the rest of Tanakh, many scholars have recognized that these books can
be analyzed effectively as unified texts. Every word is valuable. Passages have meaningful
structures and are multilayered. Understanding the interplay between texts is vital. These
assumptions were far more compatible with classical Orthodox Tanakh study.

Great Orthodox scholars of the previous generation such as the authors of the Da’at
Mikra commentary series, Professor Nehama Leibowitz, and Rabbi Mordechai Breuer
exemplified different aspects of how Orthodox scholarship could benefit from the information
and methodology of academic Bible scholarship through the prism of traditional faith. Similarly,
the prolific writings of leading contemporary rabbinic scholars such as Yoel BinNun, Elhanan
Samet, and Shalom Carmy are intellectually and spiritually stimulating, as they benefit from the
academy while working from the viewpoint of the yeshivah.

Shalom Carmy refers to this general methodology as the “literary-theological” approach
to Tanakh. This methodology demands a finely tuned text reading, along with a focus on the
religious significance of the passage. The premises of this approach include: (1) Oral Law and
classical rabbinic commentary are central to the way we understand the revealed word of God;
and (2) It is vital to study biblical passages in their literary and historical context. 4
Although each scholar has his or her own particular style, all advocates of this
methodology are driven by several underlying core assumptions. Ezra Bick (Yeshivat Har
Etzion) enumerates the most important distinguishing principles of this school. Peshat (the
primary intent of the biblical text) is discoverable from a rigorous study of the text, as the Torah
was not given as an esoteric document to confuse people. There is an Oral Law, but that does not
diminish the pursuit of peshat. We attempt to learn in the manner of our classical commentators,
with the goal of uncovering the intended meaning of the text. In addition to attempting to
understand each word and verse locally, it is critical to consider the bigger picture, whether of a
passage, an entire book, or parallels between different parts of Tanakh. God revealed the Torah
to people, and therefore the Torah speaks in the language of people. 5 Since the Torah is divinely

revealed, every word must be taken with utmost seriousness. Since it is written in human
language, we may use literary tools that can expose dimensions of meaning in the text. There
also is value to the study of the historical context of Tanakh, comparative linguistics, and
archaeology. Since the Torah is a divine covenant with Israel, there is a religious obligation to
understand its intended meaning and messages and to apply them to our lives. 6
While Orthodox Tanakh scholarship is wedded to the primacy of classical rabbinic
interpretation, scholars of each generation incorporate new trends into their thought. Since
Jewish tradition places a premium on scholarship, we should hear the truth from whoever says it.
Rambam stated this principle long ago, 7 and many of the greatest rabbinic figures before and
since have espoused this policy. 8 This article will consider some of the seminal developments
since the mid-twentieth century in Orthodox Tanakh study, with an emphasis on the literary-
theological school. 9

Leading Figures of the Past Generation
Da’at Mikra
Well aware of the impact that critical Bible scholarship had in academic circles and
beyond, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook inspired his student Moshe Seidel to embark on an
ambitious project. Under Seidel’s leadership, a group of scholars convened in 1956 and
formulated the principles for a new verse-by-verse traditional commentary on the entire Tanakh.
In 1963, the first assignments were given out for individual biblical books. The first two volumes
of the series were published in 1970, and its final volume was published in 2003. This
monumental project is entitled Da’at Mikra (literally, “Knowledge of Scripture”), and was
published by Mosad HaRav Kook in Jerusalem. The commentary incorporates the gamut of
traditional interpretation as well as contemporary research. 10

It also is worth noting that Professor Yehuda Elitzur (1911–1997), one of the original
editors of the Da’at Mikra series, was also the head of the Bible Department at Bar-Ilan
University. His prolific work highlights the inclusion of academic disciplines into Orthodox
Tanakh study. 11

Professor Nehama Leibowitz
One of the greatest Tanakh teachers of the twentieth century was Professor Nehama
Leibowitz (1905–1997). Through her Gilyonot (weekly parashah sheets) and Iyyunim
(published, in English, as Studies in the Weekly Parashah), as well as her legendary devotion to
teaching, she enlightened Jews from all backgrounds. Nehama (as she preferred to be called)
incorporated contemporary scholarly methods into her studies on the Torah and projected them
through the eyes of its classical rabbinic interpreters. Her close text analysis, coupled with a
systematic presentation of traditional commentaries to develop compelling religious themes, has
inspired generations of teachers and students. Nehama introduced the tools of academic
scholarship to many Orthodox Jews, and simultaneously opened a window into the thinking of
classical rabbinic commentary for many non-Orthodox Jews. 12

Rabbi Mordechai Breuer
One of the most creative and controversial figures in modern religious Tanakh study was
Mordechai Breuer (1921–2007). He posited that the proposed divisions of the Documentary
Hypothesis are essentially correct, and he agreed with the critics that no one person could have

composed the Torah. However, he disagreed with the critics most fundamentally by insisting that
no person wrote the Torah. God revealed it to Moses in its complex form so that the multiple
aspects of the infinite Torah could be presented in different sections. Since we are limited as
humans, we cannot simultaneously entertain these perspectives, so they appear to us as
contradictory. The complete truth emerges only when one takes all facets into account. He
named his approach the Theory of Aspects. In this manner, Breuer accepted the text analysis of
critical scholarship while rejecting its underlying beliefs and assumptions. 13
Although Breuer’s commitment to the readings of the Documentary Hypothesis as
“science” detracted from his work, his fundamental premise, that the Torah presents aspects of
truth in different places, has significantly influenced the next generation of scholars, 14 to whom
we now turn.

Leading Contemporary Figures
Rabbi Yoel Bin-Nun
One of the most influential Tanakh teachers today, Yoel Bin-Nun of Herzog College
presents a more comprehensive approach to Tanakh than many of his colleagues, a result of his
unusual ability to address historical-archaeological scholarship on a serious level. He combines
expertise in Tanakh, rabbinics, parshanut, halakhah, history, archaeology, linguistics, and
theology. He actively confronts academic Bible study by using its own tools of scholarship to
respond to its challenges.

In his writings, Rabbi Breuer steered clear of historical criticism, concentrating
exclusively on literary issues. 15 Rabbi Bin-Nun, in contrast, believes that these disciplines, when
studied responsibly, combine harmoniously and deepen our understanding of Tanakh and other
areas of Jewish thought. 16

Rabbi Elhanan Samet
Another exemplar of the literary-theological approach is Rabbi Elhanan Samet, who also
teaches at Herzog College. Classical commentators and thinkers, ancient Near Eastern sources,
and literary tools contribute to his analyses, but Rabbi Samet is careful to evaluate all of these
elements against the biblical text itself. Rabbi Samet selectively uses both traditional and modern
sources, including those who are non-Orthodox as well as, on occasion, non-Jewish scholars. He
places great emphasis on the overall structure of the passage, often identifying chiasms as well as
imputing significance to the leitworten (lead words). One of Samet’s hallmark literary techniques
is to divide a passage—narrative, poetic, or legal—in half. He applies this principle to determine
the “central pivot” of a passage which he maintains helps the reader ascertain the inner meaning
of the text. 17

Rabbi Shalom Carmy
The leading exponent of the literary-theological approach in America is Shalom Carmy
of Yeshiva University. A student of Rabbis Joseph Soloveitchik and Aharon Lichtenstein, Carmy
has distinguished himself as a scholar of both Tanakh and Jewish thought. He has contributed
substantially to the exploration of the philosophical underpinnings of the use of academic
methodology within a religious framework. 18 The principles of his approach include the following:

1. We learn Tanakh as an intensely religious pursuit. Philology and history are important
disciplines, but not ends in themselves; they are the means to the greater end of connecting to
the living messages of the prophets and our tradition.
2. Our Sages and later rabbinic commentators guide our inquiry, both as great scholars and as our
religious polestars.
3. Great pashtanim like Ibn Ezra and Radak have more in common with Hasidic writers than with
non-Orthodox academic scholarship. Traditional commentators view Tanakh as the revealed
word of God, with enduring religious value and relevance. This central axiom defines our
outlook on every sacred word.
4. Rabbinic views have religious value even if they may not be the most likely peshat reading of a
biblical text.
5. We should draw on non-Orthodox academic scholarship when it contributes positively to the
discussion.
6. Biblical books offer multiple perspectives on complex issues. Taken together, we can appreciate
the depth of the issues they address and develop an increasingly refined religious worldview.

Other Figures
Rabbi Menachem Leibtag, a student of Rabbi Yoel Bin-Nun, successfully pioneered the
dissemination of his teacher’s methodology over the Internet. 19 Another of Rabbi Bin-Nun’s
students, Rabbi Yaakov Medan, who currently is one of the Roshei Yeshivah at Yeshivat Har
Etzion, also has published widely on Tanakh. 20 Many others teach in Herzog College and other
schools, and publish in Megadim and other journals. Hundreds of articles are archived at the
Virtual Beit Midrash of Yeshivat Har Etzion (http://vbm.etzion.org.il/en). While most of the best
work emanates from Israel, the literary-theological approach has made significant strides in
America too. 21

Entering the twenty-first century, the next generation of Orthodox scholars have taken
their place as leading educators. The most significant project to date is the Maggid Tanakh
Commentary Series. A work in progress, Maggid Press (connected to Koren) has published
collections of studies on the weekly Torah portion, 22 and has embarked on an in-depth
commentary series on the entire Tanakh. The commentary series largely features the younger
generation of scholars, including Amnon Bazak (Samuel), Yitzchak Etshalom (Amos,
forthcoming), Tova Ganzel (Ezekiel), Jonathan Grossman (Genesis), and Yael Ziegler (Ruth,
Lamentations).

Jonathan Grossman stands out for his remarkably prolific output and his efforts to present
literary analysis as a comprehensive commentary on the books of Genesis, Ruth, Ecclesiastes,
and Esther. Grossman’s work bridges the best of traditional Tanakh learning with contemporary
literary methodology. A faculty member at both Herzog College of Yeshivat Har Etzion and Bar-
Ilan University, Grossman moves seamlessly between traditional and academic scholarship,
demonstrating how both modern literary analysis and our classical commentators contribute to
our understanding of the Torah. Most importantly, he remains focused on deriving the religious
messages from the text. 23

Moshe Shamah (Sephardic Synagogue, Brooklyn) composed a commentary on the Torah,
based on previously published online essays. Rabbi Shamah justifies the need for his
commentary by noting the lack of adequate material written on the Torah focusing on peshat that
accepts the axioms of tradition along with the compelling features of modern scholarship. He

addresses a wide range of issues, including linguistic elucidations of individual words; literary
structures of passages; parallels between sections of the Torah; religious-philosophical issues;
the relationship between the Written and Oral Law; surveys of parshanut; symbolic meanings of
laws, narratives, and Midrashim; a consideration of the Torah in light of its ancient Near Eastern
setting; and poetic techniques. It is particularly valuable to have a commentary of this high
caliber that can be read by scholars and laypeople alike. 24

Also noteworthy is the website, alhatorah.org, by Hillel Novetsky. The site contains
many essays that survey approaches to a plethora of issues in Tanakh, editions of classical
commentaries, and other learning tools that have brought online Tanakh education to a new
level.

Archaeology, Realia
Archaeology was popular among early Zionist scholars and was used extensively in the
Daat Mikra commentary series and by Professor Yehudah Elitzur (1911–1997). 25 Today, there is
a heightened interest within the Orthodox world in quality scholarship of geography,
archaeology, and realia. A growing body of literature addresses this gaping hole within the
standard yeshivah education. Two particularly valuable recent contributions are Professor Yoel
Elitzur’s Places in the Parasha: Biblical Geography and Its Meaning, and the new series, The
Koren Tanakh of the Land of Israel.

When learning Tanakh with the literary-theological method, certain elements become
primary. Others lend themselves less to this type of analysis and religious exploration. To cite a
familiar example, one learning the Book of Joshua likely will focus on the gripping narratives of
chapters 1–12 and then skip to chapters 22–24. Joshua’s role as leader and his relationship to
Moses’ leadership, the balance between God’s intervention and human efforts, the reenactment
of the covenant, the thorny question of war against the Canaanites, and many other vital religious
and human issues dominate the discussion. The lengthy city lists in chapters 13–21 would
receive scant attention at best, perhaps a few scattered bullet points. Further, the classical
commentators do not offer extensive help expanding the middle chapters, since they generally
were unaware of the geography of the Land of Israel.

Now imagine an entire book about those city list chapters, written by an expert in both the text of
Tanakh and contemporary historical and archaeological scholarship. Imagine that book teaching
a rigorous methodology in a clear accessible way that enlightens our understanding of Tanakh
and strengthens our religious connection to the Land of Israel. Such a book would fill a
monumental void in our learning. Yoel Elitzur’s new book, Places in the Parasha, helps to fill
that void.

Elitzur is a researcher of the Hebrew language and biblical and historical geography, a
member of the Academy of the Hebrew Language, and heads the Land of Israel Studies
Department at Herzog College in Alon Shvut. He has made a remarkable contribution to
religious Tanakh study by focusing on the oft-neglected biblical places and names. Elitzur
combines pioneering academic research with careful text analysis, bringing both together with
rigor and religious passion.

Elitzur has given us the opportunity to greatly enhance our understanding of many
elements in Tanakh, rabbinic teachings, and even folk traditions. His volume enlightens our
learning, and will foster a more profound love of the Land of Israel through intimate knowledge
of the settings for the eternal prophetic narratives in Tanakh. 26

Koren Publishers also has embarked on an impressive new project, a popular companion
to the Torah presenting contemporary research on archaeology, flora and fauna, geology, the
languages and realia of the ancient Near East, and other areas that elucidate aspects of the
biblical text. It is presented in a similar engaging manner to the Hebrew series, Olam HaTanakh,
and like that Hebrew work was composed by a team of scholars who specialize in a variety of
fields of scholarship. There are brief articles and glossy photographs, maps, and illustrations that
bring these areas to light. Unlike Olam HaTanakh, which also offers a running commentary on
biblical books, The Koren Tanakh of the Land of Israel discusses specifically those background
areas that may enhance our understanding of the text within its real-world setting.
This series does not purport to offer original scholarship, but rather synthesizes
contemporary academic scholarship in an accessible and Orthodox-friendly manner. As of this
writing, they have published volumes on Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Samuel, and the
series ultimately is expected to cover the entire Tanakh. 27

Addressing the Religious Challenges of Critical Study of Tanakh
Orthodoxy has matured significantly in the past generation and has been increasingly
willing to confront and benefit from developments in academic Bible study. The two most
important books written recently are Amnon Bazak, Until This Very Day: Fundamental
Questions in Bible Study (Maggid, 2020), and Joshua Berman, Ani Maamin: Biblical Criticism,
Historical Truth, and the Thirteen Principles of Faith (Maggid, 2020). Both scholars are well-
versed in classical Jewish sources as well as the gamut of contemporary academic discourse.
As the revealed word of God, the study of Tanakh should lie at the heart of the learning
of religious Jews along with the Talmud and classical rabbinic thinkers. In Israel, particularly in
the Religious Zionist community, there has been a flourishing of serious Tanakh learning in
recent decades. Thankfully, some of this excitement has spilled over into America and beyond.
With every positive development, however, there are accompanying challenges.
Academic Bible study offers a wealth of valuable information and analytic tools. However, it
also poses severe challenges to the very heart of traditional faith. The academic consensus asserts
that the Torah was composed by different people and schools, all from periods after Moses.
Many scholars doubt or deny the historicity of our foundational narratives. The presence of
ancient textual witnesses such as the Dead Sea Scrolls and Septuagint lead many to claim that
these variant texts are sometimes more reliable than the Masoretic Text.

The ostensible conflicts between tradition and academic scholarship have led many
scholars, including several who identify with the Orthodox community, to conclude that
traditional faith is incompatible with good scholarship. This supposition has led some to reject
traditional belief outright, or to radically redefine faith to make it compatible with their scholarly
conclusions, or to reinterpret classical sources in an attempt to justify such radical paradigm
shifts as being within tradition. These positions have led to counter-reactions in some Orthodox
circles that adopt excessively dogmatic and restrictive positions to prohibit scholarly inquiry or
peshat learning altogether. Both sides may be motivated by a profound and authentic religious
desire to connect to God and the Torah, but they distort aspects of tradition and create dangerous
and unnecessary rifts between us.

In Until This Very Day, Rabbi Amnon Bazak—one of the bright stars at Yeshivat Har
Etzion and its affiliated Herzog College—surveys classical sources and offers a sophisticated
understanding of Tanakh and the axioms of our faith, while simultaneously being fully open to

contemporary scholarship. Addressing the fact that many in the Orthodox world disregard
contemporary scholarship, Bazak offers three reasons why such willful ignorance is inexcusable:
1. These issues are widely publicized and available, and therefore rabbis and
religious educators must be able to address them intelligently.
2. Many of the questions from the academy are genuine and must be taken seriously
on scholarly grounds.
3. We often stand to gain a better understanding of Tanakh with the aid of
contemporary scholarship.
Bazak’s book is indispensable for all who engage with the critical issues of learning
Tanakh, and particularly for rabbis and educators. 28
Bazak frames his book as focused on the challenges from the secular academy. He
explores the following topics: (1) the authorship of the Torah and other biblical books; (2) the
reliability of the Masoretic Text; (3) archaeology and the historicity of the narratives in Tanakh
and comparative studies between Tanakh and ancient Near Eastern texts; (4) the relationship
between peshat and derash; and (5) the sins of biblical heroes.

Bazak’s central premise is that we must distinguish between facts and compelling tools of
analysis, which must be considered in our learning; and the assumptions of scholars, which we
reject when they conflict with traditional beliefs. He argues that nothing based on facts forces
one to choose between traditional faith and good scholarship.

Joshua Berman (Bar-Ilan University) has written a much-needed book for those in the
Orthodox community who have read popular works on Bible criticism but who lack the tools to
evaluate the merits of various theories or the religious implications of these theories. Informed
by decades of research into both traditional and academic methods, Berman is uniquely qualified
to address the religious and academic issues in the first book-length study of its kind. 29
Berman’s primary argument is that most purported faith-science conflicts arise from
misunderstandings of the nature of academic truth. There are several influential academic Bible
theories, such as the documentary hypothesis that posits multiple human authors of the Torah to
account for the contradictions and redundancies in the Torah, or arguments that many narratives
lack archaeological corroboration and therefore are fictional and irrelevant. Berman posits that
these positions are based on anachronistic assumptions about literature, history, and law, rather
than on the world of ideas in ancient Near Eastern texts and contexts. It is therefore critical from
a purely scholarly perspective to abandon these assumptions, and to attempt to understand the
Torah as a literary creation of the ancient world. By doing so, we also may better appreciate the
revolutionary religious and moral developments the Hebrew Bible contributed to ancient Near
Eastern culture and literature. These values transformed many areas of world culture.
Berman’s book is vital for understanding the relationship between faith and academic
Bible study, where we can benefit from those texts as useful tools in learning and appreciate the
staggering revolution of the Torah within its ancient context. We should not impose our modern
Western notions of history or Aristotelian consistency onto the Torah, nor should we impose our
modern sentiments of statutory law onto the Torah. By focusing on the Torah’s eternal lessons,
by attuning ourselves to differences between narratives to refine our understanding of the
message of each passage, and by recognizing that the Written Law was never intended as a
comprehensive code of law but always required an Oral Law, we can maintain complete faith in
revelation without hiding from the many beneficial aspects of contemporary scholarship.

In this context, it is worth noting a growing number of efforts by committed and
observant Jews who attempt to bridge tradition and scholarship in different ways. Their
conclusions sometimes attempt to push the boundaries of traditional understandings of faith in
the revelation of the Torah and Tanakh, but these scholars clearly attempt to ascertain religious
meaning in Tanakh and live religiously committed lives. 30 A leading scholar of the previous
generation was Louis Jacobs, Principles of Jewish Faith (New York: Basic Books, 1964,
reprinted 1988). A few significant contemporary contributions in this genre are the essays edited
by Tovah Ganzel, Yehudah Brandes & Chayuta Deutsch, The Believer and the Modern Study of
the Bible (Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2019); Norman Solomon, Torah from Heaven: The
Reconstruction of Faith (Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2012); and Benjamin
D. Sommer, Revelation and Authority: Sinai in Jewish Scripture and Tradition (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 2015). 31 The website, TheTorah.com, similarly contains many pertinent
essays.

Mikraot Gedolot HaKeter
One other project of note is the monumental Mikraot Gedolot HaKeter, edited by
Menahem Cohen (Bar-Ilan University). This series presents the biblical text based on the Aleppo
Codex, and carefully edited critical editions of the classical medieval commentators. 32

Conclusion
The ideal learning framework espouses traditional beliefs, regards study as a means to a
religious end, and defines issues carefully, while striving for intellectual openness and honesty.
Reaching this synthesis is difficult, since it requires passionate commitment alongside an effort
at detachment while learning, in order to refine knowledge and understanding.

The literary-theological approach in contemporary Orthodox Tanakh study is an
outstanding paradigm of this outlook and methodology. It combines a commitment to God and
Torah coupled with an unwavering sense of intellectual honesty and pursuit of scholarship to
further religious development and experience through learning.

Finally, and most importantly, as Shalom Carmy regularly emphasizes, our primary focus
must be the encounter of God’s word in Tanakh, rather than the study of ancillary subjects such
as history, linguistics, or literature for their own sake. Nor should we become overly distracted
by the challenges of Bible Criticism:

To the extent that we take seriously some of the things noticed by the critics that
were previously overlooked, or in the case of the great Jewish exegetes, were
noticed unsystematically, it is the task of contemporary Orthodox students to
show how the Torah coheres in the light of our belief in Torah mi-Sinai. The goal
of those engaged in this activity… is not primarily to refute the Documentary
Hypothesis but rather to do justice to worthwhile questions within the larger
framework of Torah study. 33

We are privileged to live in a generation where a growing number of scholars and
educators employ the highest caliber scholarship in the pursuit of religious truth in Tanakh.

Notes

1 I thank Rabbis Shalom Carmy, Yitzchak Etshalom, and Moshe Sokolow for reviewing earlier
drafts of this essay and making valuable comments and suggestions.
2 Yoshi Fargeon surveys rabbinic sources that maintain that there are minor instances of post-
Mosaic authorship in the Torah. See his “Wisdom and Knowledge Will be Given to You,” in The
Believer and the Modern Study of the Bible, ed. Tova Ganzel, Yehudah Brandes, and Chayuta
Deutsch (Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2019), pp. 42–62. See also Marc B. Shapiro, The
Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles Reappraised (Oxford: Littman
Library of Jewish Civilization, 2004), pp. 91–121; Mordechai Breuer, “On Bible Criticism”
(Hebrew), Megadim 30 (1999), pp. 97–107.
3 See Yuval Cherlow, “Ask the Rabbi: ‘Biblical Criticism is Destroying My Faith!’,” in The
Believer and the Modern Study of the Bible, ed. Tova Ganzel et al., pp. 288–299.
4 Shalom Carmy, “A Room with a View, but a Room of Our Own,” in Modern Scholarship in the
Study of Torah: Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy (Northvale, NJ: Jason
Aronson Inc., 1996), pp. 1–38.
5 See, for example, Berakhot 31a, Yevamot 71a, and many others.
6 Torat Etzion: New Readings in Parashat HaShavua, Bereshit (Hebrew), ed. Ezra Bick and
Yonatan Feintuch (Jerusalem: Maggid Press, 2014), pp. 11–18. For a review of that book and its
methodology, see Hayyim Angel, “From Etzion Comes Torah: Yeshivat Har Etzion Faculty on
the Book of Genesis,” in Angel, The Keys to the Palace: Essays Exploring the Religious Value of
Reading the Bible (New York: Kodesh Press, 2017), pp. 18–35.
7 Introduction to his commentary on Pirkei Avot (Shemonah Perakim).
8 See, for example, Ephraim E. Urbach, “The Pursuit of Truth as a Religious Obligation”
(Hebrew), in ha-Mikra va-Anahnu, ed. Uriel Simon (Ramat-Gan: Institute for Judaism and
Thought in Our Time, 1979), pp. 13–27; Uriel Simon, “The Pursuit of Truth that Is Required for
Fear of God and Love of Torah” (Hebrew), ibid., pp. 28–41; Marvin Fox, “Judaism, Secularism,
and Textual Interpretation,” in Modern Jewish Ethics: Theory and Practice, ed. Marvin Fox
(Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1975), pp. 3–26.
9 Some of this section is adapted from Hayyim Angel, “The Literary-Theological Study of
Tanakh,” in Angel, Peshat Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to
Bible Study (New York: Kodesh Press, 2014), pp. 118–136.
10 After completing the series, two of its leading contributors and editors, Yehudah Kiel and
Amos Hakham, wrote a short book describing the history and goals of the series, Epilogue to the
Da’at Mikra Commentary (Hebrew) (Jerusalem: Keter, 2003).
11 For a collection of Elitzur’s seminal essays, see Yehudah Elitzur, Yisrael ve-ha-Mikra:
Mehkarim Geografi’im Histori’im ve-Hagoti’im (Hebrew), ed. Yoel Elitzur and Amos Frisch
(Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan University Press, 1999).
12 For more on her work, see especially Yael Unterman, Nehama Leibowitz: Teacher and Bible
Scholar (Jerusalem: Urim, 2009); Pirkei Nehama: Nehama Leibowitz Memorial Volume
(Hebrew), ed. Moshe Ahrend, Ruth Ben-Meir, and Gavriel H. Cohn (Jerusalem: Eliner Library,
The Joint Authority for Jewish Zionist Education, Department for Torah and Culture in the
Diaspora, 2001); Hayyim Angel, Review Essay: “Pirkei Nehama: Nehama Leibowitz Memorial
Volume: The Paradox of Parshanut: Are Our Eyes on the Text, or on the Commentators?” in
Angel, Peshat Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to Bible Study,
pp. 36–57.

13 For analysis of Breuer’s method, see Amnon Bazak, Until This Very Day: Fundamental
Questions in Bible Study (Hebrew), ed. Yoshi Farajun (Tel Aviv: Yediot Aharonot, 2013), pp.
109–139; Shalom Carmy, “Concepts of Scripture in Mordechai Breuer,” in Jewish Concepts of
Scripture: A Comparative Introduction, ed. Benjamin D. Sommer (New York: New York
University Press, 2012), pp. 267–279; Meir Ekstein, “Rabbi Mordechai Breuer and Modern
Orthodox Biblical Commentary,” Tradition 33:3 (Spring 1999), pp. 6–23. For a collection of
Breuer’s articles on his methodology, and important responses to his work, see The Theory of
Aspects of Rabbi Mordechai Breuer (Hebrew), ed. Yosef Ofer (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2005). For
case studies of Breuer’s methodology, see especially Breuer’s Pirkei Mo’adot (Jerusalem:
Horev, 1989), Pirkei Bereshit (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 1998), and Pirkei Mikra’ot (Alon Shevut:
Tevunot, 2009).
14 See especially Yoel Bin-Nun, “Teguvah le-Divrei Amos Hakham be-Inyan Torat ha-Te’udot
ve-Shittat haBehinot” (Hebrew), Megadim 4 (Tishri 1987), p. 91; Shalom Carmy, “Concepts of
Scripture in Mordechai Breuer,” op. cit.
15 See the criticisms of Breuer’s position by Shalom Carmy, “Introducing Rabbi Breuer,” in
Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah: Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy, p.
157; and Shnayer Z. Leiman, “Response to Rabbi Breuer,” pp. 181-187.
16 For fuller analysis of Bin-Nun’s methodology, including citations to many of his published
articles through 2006, see Hayyim Angel, “Torat Hashem Temima: The Contributions of Rav
Yoel Bin-Nun to Religious Tanakh Study,” in Angel, Revealed Texts, Hidden Meanings: Finding
the Religious Significance in Tanakh (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav-Sephardic Publication Foundation,
2009), pp. 30–47. Many of Bin-Nun’s articles are archived at https://www.yoel-binnun.com/.
17 Iyyunim be-Parashot ha-Shavua (series 1, 2, and 3), ed. Ayal Fishler (Ma’aleh Adumim:
Ma’aliyot, 2002, 2004, 2012). For an overview of Rabbi Samet’s methodology, see Hayyim
Angel, “Review of Rabbi Elhanan Samet, Iyyunim be-Parashot haShavua,” in Angel, Through
an Opaque Lens, revised second edition (New York: Kodesh Press, 2013), pp. 6–18. See also
Samet’s books, Pirkei Eliyahu (Ma’aleh Adumim: Ma’aliyot, 2003), Pirkei Elisha (Ma’aleh
Adumim: Ma’aliyot, 2007), Iyyunim be-Mizmorei Tehillim (Tel Aviv: Yediot Aharonot, 2012).
Many of his articles are archived in English translation at the Virtual Beit Midrash of Yeshivat
Har Etzion, at http://www.vbm-torah.org.
18 Carmy gives an overview of his own methodology in “A Room with a View, but a Room of
Our Own,” in Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah: Contributions and Limitations, ed.
Shalom Carmy, pp. 1–38. See also especially his “To Get the Better of Words: An Apology for
Yir’at Shamayim in Academic Jewish Studies,” Torah U-Madda Journal 2 (1990), pp. 7–24;
“Always Connect,” in Where the Yeshiva Meets the University: Traditional and Academic
Approaches to Tanakh Study, ed. Hayyim Angel, Conversations 15 (Winter 2013), pp. 1–12. For
a bibliography of his published writings through 2012, see Rav Shalom Banayikh: Essays
Presented to Rabbi Shalom Carmy by Friends and Students in Celebration of Forty Years of
Teaching, ed. Hayyim Angel and Yitzchak Blau (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav, 2012), pp. 403–414.
19 See his articles archived at the Tanach Study Center, at http://www.tanach.org.
20 See his books: David u-Bat Sheva: ha-Het, ha-Onesh, ve-ha-Tikkun (Alon Shevut: Tevunot,
2002); Daniel: Galut ve-Hitgalut (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2006); Tikvah mi-Ma’amakim: Iyyun
be-Megillat Rut (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2007); Ki Karov Elekha: Leshon Mikra u-Leshon
Hakhamim (Tel-Aviv: Yediot Aharonot, 2014); Ha-Mikraot ha-Mithaddeshim: Iyyunim be-
Nevi’im u-Ketuvim (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2015); Ani Kohelet: Makhelat Kolot be-Demut Ahat

(with Yoel Bin-Nun) (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2017); Iyyov: Ben Hoshekh la-Or (Alon Shevut:
Tevunot, 2019). For a review of his work, see Yaakov Beasley, “The Methodology of Creativity:
A Review of Rav Yaakov Medan’s Contribution to the Modern Study of Tanakh,” Tradition
45:1 (Spring 2012), pp. 61–77.
21 In addition to the prolific writings of Shalom Carmy, see especially Yitzchak Etshalom,
Between the Lines of the Bible: Recapturing the Full Meaning of the Biblical Text (Brooklyn:
Yashar, 2006), two volumes; Nathaniel Helfgot, Mikra & Meaning: Studies in Bible and Its
Interpretation (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2012); Moshe Sokolow, Hatzi Nehamah: Studies in the
Weekly Parashah Based on the Lessons of Nehama Leibowitz (Jerusalem, New York: Urim,
Lambda, 2008); In The Company of Prophets: Reflections on Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings
(New York: Kodesh Press, 2021); Hayyim Angel, Through an Opaque Lens (New York:
Sephardic Publication Foundation, 2006); Revealed Texts, Hidden Meanings: Finding the
Religious Significance in Tanakh (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav-Sephardic Publication Foundation,
2009); Creating Space between Peshat and Derash: A Collection of Studies on Tanakh (Jersey
City, NJ: Ktav-Sephardic Publication Foundation, 2011); Vision from the Prophet and Counsel
from the Elders: A Survey of Nevi’im and Ketuvim (New York: Orthodox Union, 2013); Peshat
Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to Bible Study (New York:
Kodesh Press, 2014); Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi: Prophecy in an Age of Uncertainty
(Jerusalem: Maggid, 2016); The Keys to the Palace: Essays Exploring the Religious Value of
Reading the Bible (New York: Kodesh Press, 2017); Cornerstones: The Bible and Jewish
Ideology (New York: Kodesh Press, 2020); Psalms: A Companion Volume (New York: Kodesh
Press, 2022).
22 Torah MiEtzion: New Readings in Tanakh, ed. Ezra Bick and Yaakov Beasley (Jerusalem:
Maggid, Yeshivat Har Etzion, 2011).
23 Bereshit: Sipuran shel Hathalot (Yediot Aharonot, 2017); Avraham: Sipuro shel Massa
(Yediot Aharonot, 2014); Yaakov: Sipuro shel Mishpahah (Yediot Aharonot, 2019); Yosef:
Sipuram shel Halomot (Yediot Aharonot, 2021; Megillat Ruth: Gesharim u-Gevulot (Alon
Shevut: Tevunot, 2016); with Asael Abelman, Kohelet: Sedek shel Or (Maggid Books, 2023);
Esther: Megillat Setarim (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2013); Galui u-Mutzpan: Al Kamah mi-Darkhei
ha-Itzuv shel ha-Sippur Mikrai (Alon Shevut: Tevunot, 2015). For analysis of Grossman’s first
volume on Genesis and his methodology, see Hayyim Angel, “Where Literary Analysis Leads to
the Fear of God,” Tradition 51:4 (Fall 2019), pp. 181–192.
24 Moshe Shamah, Recalling the Covenant: A Contemporary Commentary on the Five Books of
the Torah (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav, 2011). See also Hayyim Angel, Review Essay: “Seeking the
Keys to the Palace Gates: Rabbi Moshe Shamah’s Commentary on the Torah,” in Angel, Peshat
Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to Bible Study, pp. 137–154.
25 A notable exception was Nehama Leibowitz. Moshe Ahrend observes that Nehama drew on a
wide variety of sources, but generally avoided ancient Near Eastern sources. Nehama appears to
have been concerned that whatever benefits might be derived from such inquiry could be
neutralized by the religious dangers inherent in considering a divine text in light of human-
authored parallels (“From My Work with Nehama, of Blessed Memory” [Hebrew], in Pirkei
Nehama: Nehama Leibowitz Memorial Volume, ed. Moshe Ahrend, Ruth Ben-Meir and Gavriel
H. Cohn [Jerusalem: Eliner Library, The Joint Authority for Jewish Zionist Education,
Department for Torah and Culture in the Diaspora, 2001], pp. 31–49). Moshe Sokolow relates
further that “when invited by Da’at Mikra to prepare their commentary on Bereishit, Nehama

declined. When I asked her why, she replied: Because I don’t know the ancient Near East! When
I pointed out that she always hastened to eschew ancient Near Eastern texts, she clarified: One
can understand Bereishit without the ancient Near East, but one cannot write a commentary on
Bereishit without it” (Studies in the Weekly Parashah Based on the Lessons of Nehama Leibowitz
[Jerusalem: Urim, 2008], pp. 274–275).
26 See further discussion and examples in Hayyim Angel, Foreword to Yoel Elitzur, Places in the
Parasha: Biblical Geography and Its Meaning (Jerusalem: Maggid Press, 2020), pp. xv–xxv.
Abridged in Tradition Online, at https://traditiononline.org/review-places-in-the-parasha/.
27 See my reviews at Tradition Online, at https://traditiononline.org/11255-2/;
https://traditiononline.org/review-tanakh-of-the-land-of-israel-samuel;
https://traditiononline.org/traditions-2023-book-endorsements/.
28 This section is adapted from Hayyim Angel, “Faith and Scholarship Can Walk Together: Rabbi
Amnon Bazak on the Challenges of Academic Bible Study in Traditional Learning,” in Angel,
The Keys to the Palace: Essays Exploring the Religious Value of Reading the Bible, pp. 58–75.
For further discussion and sources of several critical issues and their intersection with rabbinic
tradition, see Moshe Sokolow, Tanakh: An Owner’s Manual: Authorship, Canonization,
Masoretic Text, Exegesis, Modern Scholarship and Pedagogy (Brooklyn, NY: Ktav, 2015). See
also the collection of essays in Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah: Contributions and
Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson Inc., 1996).
29 For further discussion, see Hayyim Angel, Review of Ani Maamin, Tradition 52:2 (Spring
2020), pp. 142–150. Many of Berman’s arguments in the first half of his book are summaries of
his two earlier academic books published by Oxford University Press: Inconsistency in the
Torah: Ancient Literary Convention and the Limits of Source Criticism (2017), and Created
Equal: How the Bible Broke from Ancient Political Thought (2008). Because Ani Maamin is
primarily addressed to the Orthodox community, Berman is careful to demonstrate the continuity
of his ideas and methodology with classical rabbinic sources.
30 See the important discussion of Mordechai Breuer, “The Study of Bible and the Primacy of the
Fear of Heaven: Compatibility or Contradiction,” in Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah:
Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy, pp. 159–180.
31 For further discussion, see Hayyim Angel, Review Essay: “When Blurring Peshat and Derash
Creates a New Theology: A Critique of ‘Participatory Revelation,’” Tradition 54:4 (Fall 2022),
pp. 134–145. Review of Benjamin D. Sommer, Revelation & Authority (2015), and The
Revelation at Sinai: What Does ‘Torah from Heaven’ Mean? (2021). Edited by Yoram Hazony,
Gil Student, and Alex Sztuden.
32 For further discussion, see Nathaniel Helfgot, “ ‘Mikra’ot Gedolot ha-Keter’ (Bar-Ilan
University), ed. Menahem Cohen,” Ten Da’at 14 (2001), pp. 29–38.
33 Shalom Carmy, “A Peshat in the Dark: Reflections on the Age of Cary Grant,” Tradition 43:1
(Spring 2010), pp. 4–5. For further discussions of the religious implications of this learning
methodology, see, for example, the essays collected in Hi Sihati, My Constant Delight:
Contemporary Religious Zionist Perspectives on Tanakh Study, ed. Yehoshua Reiss (Hebrew)
(Jerusalem: Maggid-Yeshivat Har Etzion, 2013); Nathaniel Helfgot, “Between Heaven and
Earth: Curricula, Pedagogical Choices, Methodologies, and Values in the Study and Teaching of
Tanakh,” in Helfgot, Mikra & Meaning: Studies in Bible and Its Interpretation (Jerusalem:
Maggid, 2012), pp. 1–53.

Light and Shadows: Thoughts for Hanukkah

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Rabbi Marc D. Angel is Founder and Director of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.

The Talmud (Shabbat 21b) records a famous debate between the Schools of Shammai and Hillel as to how to light the Hanukkah lights. Bet Shammai rules that we should light 8 lights the first night, and then subtract one light each ensuing night. After all, the original miracle of the oil in the Temple would have entailed the oil diminishing a bit each day.

Bet Hillel rules that we should light one light the first night, and then increase the number of lights night after night. (This is the accepted practice.) A reason is suggested: in matters of holiness, we increase rather than decrease. The miracle of Hanukkah is more beautifully observed with the increasing of lights; it would be anti-climactic to diminish the lights with each passing night.

Increasing lights is an appealing concept, both aesthetically and spiritually. But the increase of light might also be extended to refer to the increase in knowledge. The more we study, the more we are enlightened. When we cast light on a problem, we clarify the issues. We avoid falling into error. The more light we enjoy, the less we succumb to shadows and illusions.

Aesop wisely noted: Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow. It is all too easy to make mistaken judgments by chasing shadows rather than realities.

Professor Daniel Kahneman, the Israeli Nobel Prize winner in Economics, has coined the phrase “illusion of validity.” He points out that we tend to think that our own opinions and intuitions are correct. We tend to overlook hard data that contradict our worldview and to dismiss arguments that don’t coincide with our own conception of things. We operate under the illusion that our ideas, insights, intuitions are valid; we don’t let facts or opposing views get in our way.

The illusion of validity leads to innumerable errors, to wrong judgments, to unnecessary confrontations. If we could be more open and honest, self-reflective, willing to entertain new ideas and to correct erroneous assumptions—we would find ourselves in a better, happier and more humane world.

In her powerful book, “The March of Folly,” Barbara Tuchman studied the destructive behavior of leaders from antiquity to the Vietnam War. She notes: “A phenomenon noticeable throughout history regardless of place or period is the pursuit by government of policies contrary to their own interests.” She points out: “Government remains the paramount area of folly because it is there that men seek power over others—only to lose it over themselves.”

But why should people with political power succumb to policies that are wrong-headed and dangerous? Tuchman suggests that the lust for power is one ingredient in this folly. Another ingredient is an unwillingness to admit that one has made a misjudgment. Leaders keep pursuing bad policies and bad wars because they do not want to admit to the public that they’ve been wrong. So more people are hurt, and more generations are lost—all because the leaders won’t brook dissent, won’t consider other and better options, won’t yield any of their power, won’t admit that they might be wrong. These leaders are able to march into folly because the public at large allows them to get away with it. Until a vocal and fearless opposition arises, the “leaders” trample on the heads of the public. They are more concerned with their own power politics, than for the needs and wellbeing of their constituents.

The march of folly is not restricted to political power. It is evident in all types of organizational life. The leader or leaders make a decision; the decision is flawed; it causes dissension; it is based on the wrong factors. Yet, when confronted with their mistake, they will not back down. They have invested their own egos in their decision and will not admit that they were wrong. Damage—sometimes irreparable damage—ensues, causing the organization or institution to diminish or to become unfaithful to its original mission. The leader/s march deeper and deeper into folly; they refuse to see the light.

Bet Hillel taught the importance of increasing light. Shedding more light leads to clearer thinking. It enables people to see errors, to cast off shadows and cling to truth.

It takes great wisdom and courage to avoid having the illusion of validity. It takes great wisdom and courage to evaluate and re-evaluate decisions, to shed honest light on the situation, to be flexible enough to change direction when the light of reason so demands.

The lights of Hanukkah remind us of the importance of increasing the light of holiness and knowledge. As we learn to increase light, we learn to seek reality and truth---and to avoid grasping at shadows and illusions.

Remembering Not to Forget: Thoughts for Parashat Vayeshev

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Angel for Shabbat—Parashat Vayeshev

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel

“And the chief butler did not remember Joseph, and he forgot him” (Bereshith 40:23)

Joseph successfully interpreted the butler’s dream, assuring him that he would soon be released from prison and regain his former position in Pharaoh’s court. Joseph then asked the butler to intercede on his behalf so that Joseph too could be freed from prison where he had been unjustly held.

But when the butler regained his freedom, the Torah informs us that he 1) did not remember Joseph and 2) he forgot Joseph. While these phrases seem redundant, they point to two different things.

The butler did not remember Joseph. He was busy with his responsibilities. He had a lot on his mind. It is natural enough for people not to remember to say thank you, or to ignore responsibilities that are not pressing. If they are reminded, they might then take the proper action.

But willfully forgetting is another matter. It is not only a matter of being too busy or too careless to remember. It is about pushing the obligation far into the back of one’s mind so that it is almost totally inaccessible. The butler not only didn’t remember Joseph; he forgot Joseph. Joseph wasn’t even a faint memory tugging at his consciousness. Only after two years was the butler’s memory jarred when Pharaoh needed his dreams to be interpreted. Only then, when the butler thought he could be useful to Pharaoh, did he remember Joseph.

Like the butler, we sometimes don’t remember things because we are preoccupied with other seemingly more pressing matters. We don’t remember to call a friend; or to make that contribution; or to express appreciation to those who have helped us. A gentle reminder might get us back on track.

But sometimes, we deeply forget. We don’t feel tugs of guilt or remorse; we proceed with life as though the memories simply don’t exist. It takes a jolt to make us retrieve the past. Maybe it’s a life crisis. Maybe it’s the passing of a loved one. Maybe it’s an urgent cry from someone in need.

All people sometimes don’t remember something or someone important. This is unfortunate but understandable. But it is more problematic when one insensitively and actively forgets something or someone important.

Are there people and things we should be remembering…but we’re not remembering? A little mindfulness can help us. But are there people and things we have forgotten about…and most definitely should not have forgotten about? We need to think carefully and not wait for a crisis to awaken our memory.

The butler didn’t remember Joseph; that was bad. The butler forgot Joseph; that was very bad.

Now, let’s apply the lesson to ourselves!