Parashat Hukat – Reasons and Messages

יַעַן לֹאהֶאֱמַנְתֶּם בִּי לְהַקְדִּישֵׁנִי לְעֵינֵי בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל

 

Parashat Hukat is chock-full of interesting narratives. It includes several skirmishes with other nations (Bamidbar 21), the deaths of Miriam and Aharon (20), and a cryptic mention of a godly well in “B’Er” (21:16-18).  Perhaps the most well known of these stories is that of the sin of Aharon and Moshe. After Miriam’s death (20:1), Bnei Yisrael gather against Moshe and Aharon to complain about a lack of water (20:2-5), and ‘א commands Moshe and Aharon to bring water forth from a rock for the people (20:7-8). Moshe and Aharon seem to fulfill the command, but the reader is suddenly informed that they have actually failed to live up to ‘א’s expectations in this situation, when Moshe and Aharon receive a sharp reprimand.

“And the Lord said to Moshe and Aharon: ‘Since you did not trust[1] in Me, to make me holy before the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land which I have given them,” (20:12).

On a first read through, this punishment seems to come out of nowhere, as the nature of Moshe and Aharon’s mistake is not at all clear. This has prompted commentators throughout the Jewish tradition to reread the passage with great attention to detail, finding all sorts of subtle clues, which point them toward the exact nature of the misdeed.

Quoting the Sifrei, Rashi notes that where ‘א had instructed Moshe and Aharon to speak to the rock, when carrying out his command they instead struck the rock. Rambam rejects this and instead argues that Moshe’s sin was in becoming angry with the people. Ibn Ezra states that the problem was that they hit the rock twice instead of just once, as pointed out in verse 11, demonstrating a lack of faith that striking the rock only once would work. Ramban comments that all the above voices are “adding meaningless statements to meaningless statements,” and instead argues that the issue was one of phrasing; Moshe and Aharon’s statements to the people suggested that it was they, and not ‘א, who would bring forth water from the rock. Abarbanel quotes these and six other reasons mentioned by various commentators, including an opinion from the gemara that Moshe and Aharon actually did not sin, before settling on the one he thinks is correct. Topping Abarbanel’s ten, Shadal[2] quotes thirteen different opinions regarding the nature of Aharon and Moshe’s mistake. The number of opinions regarding the nature of Moshe and Aharon’s mistake has increased over time, not lessened, clouding the true meaning of the text.

Shadal, in his comments on the passage, remarked that, “Moshe Rabbeinu only sinned one sin, but the commentators burdened upon him 13 sins and more, for each one invented of his own heart a new sin.” The only evidence the text gives of a mistake on the parts of Moshe and Aharon is the rebuke they receive for it. Once the existence of the mistake has been stated, the reader then has to go back and try and piece together what that mistake might have been from errant clues and seemingly extraneous parts of the text. The only thing that is clear from the text is that the text is unclear. ‘א’s statement in 20:12 that Moshe and Aharon did not trust Him and therefore did not make Him holy in the eyes of the people is confusingly followed by the words of 20:13, “These are the waters of Merivah, where the children of Israel strove with the Lord, and He was made holy with them.” Not only is the nature of the misdeed Aharon and Moshe committed unclear, what effect it might have had is also unclear. The one thing that the text conveys clearly is Moshe and Aharon failed to properly trust in ‘א, and that was the cause of the problem

A comparison can be drawn to a similarly unclear text in the story of Akeidat Yitschak (Bereishit 22:1-19). The biblical text goes beyond its normal silence regarding the persons and places involved, into true silence regarding the nature of this “test”[3] and its taker. Consequently, the range of opinions regarding the actual nature of the test have differed greatly. Rambam, making it a test of tension between ‘א’s will and man’s, says that the command to Avraham came through and absolutely clear prophecy, and that Avraham had merely to follow through with it. The somewhat antinomian Mei HaShiloah says the opposite, that the actual nature of the test was to follow an unclear and questionable prophecy. The debate about the nature of the test is so great that commentators can’t even agree as to whether or not Avraham passed. The Meshekh Hokhmah[4], basing himself on Rashi’s comments on 22:2, actually says that Avraham failed in this test, and many thinkers have since followed in his footsteps. Throughout all of these opinions, however, one thing has remained clear: “Now I know that you revere ‘א” is a positive statement, and is the foundation of the promises to Avraham that follow (Bereishit 22:15-18). The exact nature of the test isn’t nearly as important as the proof of Avraham’s reverence for ‘א. All the more so by the sin of Aharon and Moshe, where the lack of clarity is so much greater, what is important is not exactly what they did that was wrong, but that they did it due to a lack of trust in ‘א.

Moshe and Aharon were put in a tough situation, where it would be difficult for a person to know quite what to do. They even had the benefit of ‘א’s direct guidance, and they still acted incorrectly. Today we are often put in such situations, where the correct path is not clear, and we lack the aid of prophecy to show us the way. As such, the lack of clarity in the text of Bamidbar 20 is not stymying but enervating. It is the same lack of clarity that we face in our everyday lives. While we do not face the same difficulties as the great leaders of generations past, we are posed the same challenge. We can act out of trust in ‘א or we can fail to do so. When the horizon seems darkest we do not know which path to take, but trying to live up to this responsibility, trying to let our actions flow from total trust in ‘א, can be the light that guides our way.

 

[1] Throughout this composition, the hebrew word “אמונה”, generally translated as “faith” or “belief”, has been translated instead as “trust”, which more accurately reflects its meaning in Tanakh, and early Jewish usage.

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadal

[3] It’s worth noting that Rashbam says “And ‘א tested Avraham,” 22:1, should actually be understood as “And ‘א punished Avraham.”

[4] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meir_Simcha_of_Dvinsk

 

Advertisements

Parashat Korach – Leadership and Equality

כָל-הָעֵדָה כֻּלָּם קְדֹשִׁים

Parashat Korah opens with sudden drama, as Korah and 250 other leaders of Bnei Yisrael gather against Moshe and Aharon in open rebellion. Korah and his followers challenge Moshe and Aharon’s authority and right to rule over Bnei Yisrael, on the basis of the fact that “כָל-הָעֵדָה כֻּלָּם קְדֹשִׁים,” the entire congregation [of Israel] is holy. What is most interesting about this is that it doesn’t seem to be incorrect. In fact, it’s very reminiscent of Moshe’s comment from Bamidbar 11:29,  “וּמִי יִתֵּן כָּל-עַם יְהוָה, נְבִיאִים,” “would that all ‘א’s People were prophets.” Moshe seems to agree with Korah in his statement regarding the quality of the people. In his response to Korah, he specifically doesn’t reject Korah’s statement that the people are holy. “Come morning, ‘א will show who are His, and who is holy, and who may come near to Him; and he whom He will choose He will bring near to Him” (Bamidbar 16:5). Moshe opens by saying that ‘א will show who is holy, but then when describing the process actually occurring, he leaves that part out. Moshe seems to agree with Korah, which means that the rather harsh manner in which Moshe responds to his accusations requires an explanation. Upon inspection however, the explanation can actually be found within the extendedly harsh rebuke. Starting with a seemingly redundant second speech, Moshe begins a series of rebukes which detail the specific problems in Korah’s claim.

Korah starts his speech by saying, “רַב-לָכֶם,” “It is too much for you [Moshe and Aharon]!” (16:3). Moshe turns this exact language around on him at the end of his first rebuke, saying, “רַב-לָכֶם, בְּנֵי לֵוִי,” It is too much for you, Sons of Levi!” (16:7). Moshe builds on this by inverting the accusation in his second rebuke. “הַמְעַט מִכֶּם, כִּי-הִבְדִּיל אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶתְכֶם מֵעֲדַת יִשְׂרָאֵל,” “Is it too little for you, that ‘א has distinguished you from the Congregation of Israel?” (16:9). Korah and (some of) his followers were from the tribe of Levi, and, as such, had already been designated for distinction in Bnei Yisrael, yet they’re treating this as if it is nothing. They’re acting as if Moshe and Aharon are the only ones with special jobs, and by implication they are denigrating their status and duty as Levi’im. Moshe is asserting that although his and Aharon’s jobs are more unique, they are not more important, and that saying they are is actually belittling ‘א’s designation of the Levi’im. In line with his statement from 11:29, “וּמִי יִתֵּן כָּל-עַם יְהוָה, נְבִיאִים,” Moshe thinks that all of Bnei Yisrael are important and holy. Unlike Korah, he doesn’t think this is dependent on the jobs they are given.

Korah’s fatal assumption, that the job of an Israelite is what makes them special, and that unique duties preclude equality, is addressed by a popular midrash,[2] quoted in Rashi’s comments in Bamidbar 16:1 (s.v. And Dathan.).

He dressed them with cloaks made entirely of blue wool. They came and stood before Moses and asked him, “Does a cloak made entirely of blue wool require fringes, or is it exempt?” He replied, “ It does require [fringes].” They began laughing at him [saying], “Is it possible that a cloak of another [colored] material, one string of blue wool exempts it [from the obligation of tekheleth], and this one, which is made entirely of blue wool, should not exempt itself?[2]

In the midrash, Korah argues that the equality of all of the strings throughout the garment ought to eliminate the need for special strings on the corners. Similarly, the holiness of all of Israel ought to obviate the need for certain more distinguished leading individuals.

Korah does not respond to Moshe’s accusations, but his possible response, that he, not Moshe and Aharon, should be in charge of the nation of Israel, is dealt with by Moshe in his speech regarding the deaths of Dathan and Aviram. “Hereby you shall know that ‘א has sent me to do all these works… If these men die the common death of all men… then ‘א has not sent me.” Moshe and Aharon’s leadership is not a function of their innate status, nor could it be, for the entire congregation is holy, rather it is a matter of being chosen by ‘א, being assigned a duty by God. The midrash picks up on this as well, as Moshe’s response, cut off by Rashi, is that the tekhelet strings on the corners of the garments are needed by virtue of being commanded by ‘א. So too, the leadership of Moshe and Aharon is necessary by virtue of being commanded by ‘א.

Equality is part of the basic ideology of the Torah. All people are created in the Image of God (Bereishit 1:26; Seforno Ad loc.). Despite this, differentiation in duties is a necessary fact of life, of trying to form a nation. There must be those who lead the nation and those who perform the services. Therefore, ‘א commanded as such. That does not mean that anyone is innately better than anyone else. The same holds true today, after we have lost the Temple and any form of national leadership. We’re all equal, but we’re all different, and that’s a good thing. ‘א created everyone for a specific purpose, and differentiated us in order to enable us to fulfill those purposes. No one person is better or more important than any other. We’re all part of a greater picture, and all important within it.[3]

 

[1] Bamidbar Rabbah 18:3; Midrash Tanhuma, Korah, 2.

[2] Translation from http://www.chabad.org/parshah/torahreading.asp?aid=45591&p=1&showrashi=true, with slight emendations for clarity.

[3] This conception of the nature of individuals in a society also has important ramifications for the way we think of our socio-political models. People tend to point to the emphasis the Torah places on taking care of the underprivileged as proof that the Torah supports liberal/socialist/communist political thought. However, while there are specific contradicting sources, this also runs contrary to the basic debate of the Korah and Moshe. Korah’s argument that all of Bnei Yisrael are holy and thus should be able to serve in the Mishkan lends itself to easy comparison with the liberal point of view, where all people ought to be given all opportunities. This emphasis on the whole as opposed to the individual when it comes to evaluation is classical liberalism. However, as demonstrated above, Moshe does not line up with what’s normally thought of as Conservative/capitalist political-thought. Rather, Moshe’s position really falls somewhere in the middle, emphasizing both the individual and the whole (for more on this, see Rav Jonathan Sacks’ The Dignity of Difference).

Parashat Shelah – Fear Not, For God is With Us

וַי-הוָה אִתָּנוּ אַל-תִּירָאֻם

 

Parashat Shelah is composed in large part of the narrative known as Het HaMeraglim, or “The Sin of the Spies”. Twelve men, one from each tribe, are sent to scout out the land and to assess its military and social appropriateness.[1] They come back with not simply an objective report as to the nature of the land, but also with cries of danger and warning about trying to conquer it.

“And the men that went up with him said: ‘We are not able to go up against the people; for they are stronger than we.’ And they spread an evil report of the land which they had spied out to the children of Israel, saying: ‘The land, through which we have passed to spy it out, is a land that consumes the inhabitants thereof; and all the people that we saw in it are men of great stature. And there we saw the Nephilim, the sons of Anak, who come of the Nephilim; and we were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight.”[2] (Bamidbar 13:31-33)

Two of their own, Yehoshua and Calev, objected:

“And they spoke unto all the congregation of the children of Israel, saying: ‘The land, which we passed through to spy it out, is an exceeding good land. If the Lord favors us, then He will bring us into this land, and give it to us–a land which flows with milk and honey. Only do not rebel against the Lord, neither should you fear the people of the land; for they are our prey; their defense is removed from over them, and the Lord is with us; do not fear them.” (Bamidbar 14:7-9)

As all twelve men presumably saw the same things, the difference of opinion requires explanation. A quick look at the above-quoted passages reveals something striking: the negative report makes no mention of ‘א, as opposed to the three direct mentions in the positive one. The notable theme in the words of Calev and Yehoshua, that “the Lord is with us,” is conspicuously absent in the words of the other ten spies. This explains their negativity, as they clearly don’t believe ‘א’s statement, “I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries,” (Shemot 23:22). The question this leaves us with is why?

 

Why do the spies assume that ‘א will not help them conquer the land, despite His statements to the contrary? It seems at first to be a question without an answer – the spies were just delusional. An analysis of Shemot 23:20-25 will show that, in fact, the spies had some basis for their suspicions.

“Behold, I send an angel before you, to keep you by the way, and to bring you into the place which I have prepared. Take heed of him, and listen to his voice; do not rebel against him; for he will not pardon your transgression; for My name is in him. But if you will indeed listen to his voice, and do all that I say; then I will be an enemy to your enemies, and an adversary to your adversaries. For My angel shall go before you, and bring you in to the Amorite, and the Hittite, and the Perizzite, and the Canaanite, the Hivite, and the Jebusite; and I will cut them off. You shall not bow down to their gods, nor serve them, nor do after their doings; but you shall utterly overthrow them, and break their pillars into pieces. And you shall serve the Lord your God, and He will bless your bread, and your water; and I will take sickness away from the midst of you.”

Looking at this passage in its entirety shows that ‘א’s aid in helping Bnei Yisrael conquer the land is conditional. It requires the people to follow ‘א’s laws, or He will not help them. This is reinforced by the many times that Bnei Yisrael suffered at the hand of ‘א due to transgressing against His Will during their travels in the wilderness. One such event happened only slightly before the story of the spies in Bamibar 11 & 12. Therefore, the real doubt of the spies is not whether or not ‘א will remain in the people’s midst as they enter the land, but whether or not the people will be able to keep Him there. The spies believe that Bnei Yisrael will inevitably fail, and then disaster will strike.[3]

 

With that in mind, the debate, with Yehoshua and Calev on one side and the rest of the spies on the other, should be reframed as a debate over the potential success or failure of Kelal Yisrael. The spies feel that Bnei Yisrael are doomed to fail, while Calev and Yehoshua believe that ‘א is, and will remain, in the midst of the people. This debate leads to the fate of the “Ma’apilim”[4] in 14:40-45 and to the mitzvah of Tsitsit, which appears in 15:37-41. The Ma’apilim fail because they leave ‘א’s Presence behind. “The ark of the covenant of the Lord, and Moses, did not move from the camp,” (Bamidbar 14:44). The mitzvah of Tsitsit is intricately tied into the Sin of the Spies, both linguistically and thematically[5], and furthermore, it comes to remedy their mistaken view, as a brief analysis will show.

 

Tsitsit are, among other things, a constant reminder of the Priestly nature of Bnei Yisrael (Shemot 19:6).[6] Tekhelet is a symbol of the Priesthood, as is Shaatnez. Both are included in the Tsitsit. The Tsitsit are a visual reminder that each member of Bnei Yisrael is commanded to wear each day, that all of Bnei Yisrael have the status of Kohanim, those who work in the Mishkan. Thus, Tsitsit are a constant reminder of ‘א’s presence in the midst of Bnei Yisrael. The Mishkan was the location and reminder of ‘א’s Presence, and the Tsitsit remind Bnei Yisrael that each and every member of the nation is connected to it.

 

The spies assumed that, due to their performance in the wilderness, Bnei Yisrael would not be able to sustain ‘א’s Presence amongst them. Yehoshua and Calev disagreed. Right afterward, the Torah comes and gives us the mitzvah of Tsitsit to confirm the opinion of Calev and Yehoshua. The only time ‘א’s Presence leaves Bnei Yisrael is when they consciously abandon it, as in the case of the Ma’apilim. This is something that remains a problem in the modern world. ‘א is constantly with us. The only time he is not in our midsts in when we doubt His presence and therefore choose to walk away from it. We retain the same doubts about our abilities to maintain our relationship with ‘א, and these doubts often lead to our isolation. Tsitsit is connected to this parasha to remind us that ‘א is already in a relationship with us. As long as we don’t walk away, we can count on Him to remain and fight support us in all of our battles.

 

[1] Notably, the men are at no time referred to as “meraglim” in this passage (they are in the parallel in Devarim), nor is their mission specifically military. By way of contrast, see Sefer Yehoshua 1-2.

[2] Translations from www.mechon-mamre.org, with slight emendations for clarity.

[3] Rav Menachem Leibtag, http://tanach.org/bamidbar/shlach/shlachs1.html

[4] For some very interesting related-reading: http://www.scribd.com/doc/163171820/Maapilim.

[5] For more on the connection, see this article by Rav Amnon Bazak: http://www.vbm-torah.org/parsha.64/37shelach.htm.

[6] Ideas in this paragraph are taken from Jacob Milgrom, “Of Hems and Tassels,” https://drive.google.com/file/d/0BzQYdQcngakSdTVaVlhScl9PSXM/edit?usp=sharing.

 

Parashat BeHa’alotkha 5774 – Moshe’s Leadership

וּמִי יִתֵּן כָּל-עַם יְ-הוָה נְבִיאִים

Parashat BeHa’alotkha bridges the end of Bnei Yisrael’s stay at Har Sinai to the beginning of their journey to the Plains of Moab and the land of Israel. Trouble begins immediately, as Moshe faces challenges to his leadership on all levels, from “each person at the entrance to their tent” (Bamidbar 11:10), to his own family (Bamidbar 12). These challenges are part of a larger string of narratives in Sefer Bamidbar dealing with issues of Equality and Leadership. The stories found at the end of Parashat BeHa’alotkha, in Bamidbar 11 & 12, discuss these issues in context of Moshe’s Leadership specifically, and in doing so, highlight the very foundation of biblical social structure, and the very nature of prophecy.

Bamidbar 11 opens with the complaints of the people, and Moshe’s reaction to the people. Moshe goes to the people and professes his inability to bear their weight (11:10-15). ‘א responds by validating Moshe’s concerns. Moshe says that he cannot lead alone (11:14), and ‘א responds by appointing 70 elders to lead alongside him (11:16). These 70 elders are gathered with Moshe to the Mishkan and ‘א overflows Moshe’s Spirit on to them, and they prophesy (11:17).[1] The problem that this raises is that if they are sharing in the prophetic spirit of Moshe, then Moshe’s hitherto unquestioned status as Leader of the Nation, not to mention Greatest of the Prophets, suddenly becomes shaky. The obvious solution for this dilemma, that Moshe is the one in charge of the bestowal of Prophecy on the Elders, and therefore he remains in charge, is made problematic by the existence of Eldad and Medad. Eldad and Medad decide not to come to the Mishkan, and yet despite this, they prophesy anyway, in the camp (11:26). These two prophets are outside the framework established by Moshe, and thus represent a direct challenge to his leadership.

This problem is addressed by Yehoshua, who calls upon Moshe to silence Medad and Eldad (11:28). Moshe’s response is somewhat astounding. “And Moses said to him: ‘Are thou jealous for my sake? Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, that the Lord would put His spirit upon them!”[2] (11:29). With this simple response, Moshe tells Yehoshua that he should not be concerned for Moshe’s sake. In Moshe’s eyes, the ideal would be that all of Bnei Yisrael would be prophets, if not for the fact that ‘א had clearly chosen only him to be the prophetic leader of the nation. Moshe doesn’t see himself as inherently special. Rather, anyone could receive this level of prophecy and leadership, if only ‘א would bestow it upon them.

The final story of Parashat BeHa’alotkha is one of the more difficult stories to deal with in the Torah. Miriam and Aharon, Moshe’s siblings, challenge both his spousal choice (12:1), and his right to lead (12:2).  “And they said: ‘Has the Lord indeed spoken only with Moses? Has He not also spoken with us?” If ‘א spoke equally to all of them, then by what right could Moshe claim to lead? It would certainly be possible to answer that Moshe was simply better, naturally more fit to lead, but instead ‘א answers that their premise was wrong. While they saw their prophecy was being equal to Moshe’s, in fact it was not.

“And He said: ‘Hear now My words: if there is a prophet among you, I, the Lord, make Myself known to him in a vision, I do speak with him in a dream. My servant Moses is not so; he is trusted in all My house; with him I speak mouth to mouth, even manifestly, and not in dark speeches; and he beholds the depiction of the Lord; Therefore why are you not afraid to speak against My servant, against Moses?” (12:6-8)

Moshe’s leadership is not a function of a greater innate stature than others, but rather of superior prophecy. Moreover, it’s not what moshe can do that makes him the leader, but the manner in which ‘א comes to him that does so.

Sefer Bamidbar has to confront the issues inherent in the growth of a nation. After receiving the majority of their laws at the foot of Har Sinai, Bnei Yisrael begin to travel toward the land of Israel. In Israel, they will face all of the challenges involved in the running of a society, and the roots of those issues are here in Sefer Bamidbar. The primary issue of the first few books of Nevi’im is that of Leadership: who is fit to lead, how do they relate to those being led, etc. In Sefer Bamidbar, the leader in question is Moshe. How does he relate to the rest of Bnei Yisrael? Is he a part of them, or separate? Both? These questions get raised forcefully and directly, and the answer comes in kind. Moshe isn’t inherently better or different than the people, he has simply been chosen by ‘א for a specific purpose. Anyone could be chosen. In fact, Moshe seems to like the idea of everyone being chosen, as he is. That, however, is not his choice to make. What makes Israelite prophecy unique is the fact that the prophets of Tanakh are messengers sent by ‘א for a specific purpose.[3] Our purpose is not for us to decide, it comes from ‘א. It was ‘א who chose Moshe to be a prophet and the leader of the nation. It is ‘א who chooses the purpose of each person. It’s our job to remember that. We should not take an apparently superior purpose as a sign that we are inherently better than anyone else, but rather we should take time to recall, as Moshe did, that all peoples are great, and each person is imbued with divine purpose.

[1] Prophesy as an indicator of appointment to Civil Office is not unheard of in Tanakh. See Shemuel Alef 10:9-13.

[2] Translations from www.mechon-mamre.org

[3] Y. Kaufmann, The Religion of Israel.

Shavuot 5774 – Reason and Revelation: Why does it matter that the Torah is Divine?

Why Does it Matter That the Torah is Divine?

“The streams of reason and revelation either run parallel or in different directions. If they run in different directions, then only one of them leads toward truth, while the other one leads toward error. If they run parallel, why do they need river and sea at the same moment.”[1]

This dilemma, known as the problem of Reason and Revelation, is something that goes all the way back to the Greek philosopher Plato. Plato suggested that if Revelation is reasonable, as it generally seems to be, then it would contain nothing Reason could not produce on its own. Revelation would therefore serve no real purpose, being simply a repetition of Reason. Religious scholars since then have proposed multiple solutions to explain what purpose Revelation would have, what advantage it would possess over Reason. Some of the proposed motives were quantitative, stating that there was no essential difference between Reason and Revelation, but that functionally Revelation added something. Others made qualitative differentiations, stating that Reason and Revelation actually lead to the different conclusions and produce different content. However, all were trying to answer the same basic question: Why is it important that ‘א wrote the Torah?

Eliezer Berkovits book, “God, Man and History”, was devoted to founding a whole theology on his resolution to the Reason/Revelation problem. He resolved it by saying that  while Reason and Revelation do lead to the same content, only Revelation creates Obligation. In order for there to be Law, there must also be a Law-Giver, one who enforces the law. Therefore Revelation, which involves the relationship between the Law-Giver and those who must keep the law, also gives the law binding force. If someone thinks up the law on their own, there’s really no motivation for them to necessarily follow it, as opposed to when you have an external force, in this case ‘א, to enforce the Law, in this case the law of the Torah. Reason can generate laws, but only Revelation can obligate you to keep them.

Rav Saadia Gaon, leader of the Babylonian academies in the 9th-10th centuries, took a slightly different approach. He said that the idea that Reason and Revelation could generate the same information was only mostly true. For the most part Reason can keep up with Revelation, but not quite. For Rav Saadia Gaon, Reason falls short on two levels. Firstly, it doesn’t always get the details. Reason can tell you that stealing is wrong, but it won’t necessarily tell you that borrowing something without asking is tantamount to stealing (for example). More importantly, Reason as an abstract concept is one thing, but on a practical level Reason is something that varies from person to person, and not every person will reason out the same laws. You can’t make a law system in which each person is required to obey different laws. This problem is avoided by having one law-giver who reveals the laws to the society.

Of all the Kabbalists, Ramban is perhaps the most well known and certainly the most well read. This is due to the popularity of his commentary on the Torah. In addition to its sharp, text-oriented comments, Ramban’s commentary also features very mystically oriented comments. Some of these are famously clipped and cryptic,[2] but many go on to explain at length the mystical secrets hidden behind the surface layer of the text. These mystical understandings of the text could never be derived by Reason. As divine secrets, they have to be revealed by the Divine. Thus a revealed law is only partially reasonable; it’s also a godly mystery.

Heschel took a fairly unique approach to this issue. Taking the principle of Divine Authorship very seriously, he proposed a model of the Torah that could not possibly be written by man.

The Bible is primarily not man’s vision of God but God’s vision of man. The Bible is not man’s theology but God’s anthropology, dealing with man and what He asks of him rather than with the nature of God.[3]

Heschel suggested that the Torah contains information that Reason could not possibly conceive, because it requires the Divine perspective. This mean that even if all the information in the Torah were completely reasonable, Reason and Revelation would still not be comparable. The divine perspective means that everything in the Torah is considered to be important by ‘א. While Reason is powerful, perhaps even theoretically unlimited,[4] ‘א’s perspective is something it could never compete with.

These are just a few many resolutions that have been suggested to this problem throughout history, from within the Jewish Tradition and from without. However, the most important part of the discussion is something seen most obviously in the arguments of Heschel and Berkovits. Berkovits emphasizes the part of the “revealer” in Revelation. Heschel focuses on ‘א and His Perspective as the basis of the Torah. The basic idea behind both of these ideas is that what makes Revelation important is that it is the Revelation of ‘א. The Torah is not just a book of laws created by a divine being. It is a book created by the Creator of the World. In the Torah, the Redeemer of Israel reveals His Will. Our God, and the God of our Fathers, placed His Wisdom in a text for us to study, to immerse ourselves in, not just because of the Torah itself, but because it is a way to connect to Him. It matters that the Torah is divine because learning a Divine Torah puts us in relation to the God of Israel. We used to hear His word from the mouth of his prophets; now we hear it from the text of His Torah.

[1] A.J. Heschel, The Quest For Certainty in Saadia’s Philosophy, “Reason and Revelation”, Pg. 50

[2] Ramban’s student, Rabbeinu Bachye, also wrote a commentary on the Torah, and many of his comments explicate the secretive statements of his teacher.

[3] A.J. Heschel, Man is not Alone, 129

[4] Rav Re’em HaKohen, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Otniel, in a shiur given at Yeshivat Har Etzion.