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law, process, and study
Last week's Torah study produced an interesting conversation (which I predict will continue this week). What do we do when confronted with a Torah commandment we find distasteful? (The triggering issue isn't really important for this discussion, though we kept coming back to it.)
Now, many liberal Jews declare various parts of the Torah to be no longer relevant -- these were laws for another time, or a different group of people. Since most people in this camp believe that the Torah was written by men, not by God, this is easy to do. And it is a trap.
There are three basic approaches one can take to any law: follow it, interpret it, or reject it. Most of the people at the study session were of the opinion that we should simply reject this law and move on. A minority (perhaps consisting entirely of me and one other) felt that we at least need to look at process before declaring that we simply reject it. My argument was that if we simply set laws aside because we find them distasteful, where does it stop? Suppose I find laws against theft or murder or sex with goats to be distasteful; can I just set them aside too? (Or, if you prefer truly victimless issues, how about intermarriage?) If your answer is "no", then what rules tell us when it's ok and when it's not?
I think many people are too quick to say "we reject that", without thinking about the implications. The rabbis of the talmud (and later) re-interpreted quite a bit of law to suit current needs; for example, they for all practical purposes abolished the death penalty, even though the Torah commands it in places. If we can use reason in similar ways with other laws, we stay honest. If we blithely set the Torah aside whenever it is in our way, then we should stop pretending it has status that it does not. I mean, why pay any attention to the Torah at all, if this is how we respond to it?
(To answer the semi-rhetorical question, many Jews don't pay much if any attention to the Torah. And if you've made a decision to do that, I'm fine with that. It's between you and God; it's not my place to interfere, but only to be there to help you if you change your mind and seek help.)
Now, all that said, there are issues that are important enough that we can and should set the Torah aside if necessary. Egalitarianism is one of those, for me. There are a few others. But any such rejection must be done, in my opinion, with one's full knowledge of the slippery slope we stand upon.
This thought was queued up in the back of my brain when I met my rabbi Thursday to study and he asked me what I think of the war. It's really the same issue, in a way: process matters. There are necessary wars, and there are situations where it is appropriate to buck world opinion and/or law and do something you see as just, but it's a very dangerous decision to make, and it should be made only after you have exhausted the processes available for resolving disputes. We did not exhaust diplomatic avenues, and we ordinary citizens have not seen evidence that Saddam's weapons are an immediate danger. (I reject out of hand 9/11 as a justification for this war.) So while it might ultimately have been necessary to take on Iraq, we didn't do it right.
Then we went on to study. When last we left our heroes, Rabbi Yose was standing in the ruins of the Temple having a conversation with the prophet Eliyahu. (And you thought the talmud was dry!) From this conversation we learn that there are three reasons not to enter a ruin: because observers might think you're meeting a harlot (!), because it might collapse, or because a demon might attack you. The gemara spends time talking about the first two cases, but I really want to hear about the demons! I knew that in medieval times the idea of demons and the evil eye and other nefarious things entered some parts of Judaism, but this was in a baraita, one of the earliest sources we have. What gives? (Heh. My copy of the Soncino talmud on CD-ROM came recently, so perhaps this will be my inaugural query.)
The bit about being mistaken for someone visiting a prostitute is one source for the laws of marit ayin (giving the wrong impression), by the way.
Somehow we wandered onto the subject of studying Torah for its own sake -- that God desires this behavior, and so it is salvivic even if we gain nothing practical from it. (Ah yes, I remember how we got there: there is a discussion, after the Yose part, about the prayer/study habits of King David, who some say studied all night. Some Chasidim strive to emulate him.) We then discussed why we study, as this is not the theology that either of us follows. I'm not going to share my rabbi's reasons here, but I will share my own. (Hey, he knows about this journal, though I don't know if he reads. If he wants to share his reasons, he will. :-) )
Why do I study? Several reasons:
- It is intellectually stimulating.
- I am learning a lot; I don't have a lifetime of learning built up, so most things are new to me.
- It leads to fascinating philosophical and theological discussions and thoughts.
- By studying Torah, and sources derived from it such as the talmud, I feel I am drawing closer to God. It would be presumptuous to think that I could know "what God wants", but I do get some insights here and there about "what God might want from me, maybe", and that's beneficial.
no subject
Why thank you!
But if you don't enter a ruin, how will you ever get a chance to have a talk with Eliyahu the prophet?
The talmud does not address this point directly, but there are legends of people meeting Eliyahu in other circumstances, aren't there?
Also, weren't the harlots afraid of the ruins collapsing on them or demons attacking them?
The talmud gives three independent reasons for not entering a ruin, and then spends a significant chunk of a page explaining why you need all three. (Berachot 3b, FYI.) Collapse isn't sufficient because the ruin might be new. (I add: or have safe sections, as when part of a building burns.) Demons and harlots are more complicated; there is discussion about how demons won't attack men in groups (so two men are safe), and how a pair of men will not be suspected of visiting harlots, except that men of low moral character would be.
Why did they meet there, instead of in fields? More privacy?
The talmud does tell us outright that harlots don't hang out in fields, though. Really.
I'm surprised you didn't ask why Eliyahu was hanging out in a ruin given all this. :-)
He was also about as Mitnagid (anti-Chasidic) as they get.
Isn't the Vilna Gaon the canonical mitnagid, in fact? As in, the division was between him and the Besht, yes?
* It is fun
Yes, I must concur. I had initially thought of "fun" as being part of "intellectually stimulating", but they are separate, related factors.
no subject
Yes. In fact, I think that most of the legends of people meeting Eliyahu aren't while they're at a ruin. But why narrow your chances even slightly?
The talmud does tell us outright that harlots don't hang out in fields, though.
Interesting... because I would've thought that fields would actually be a place where harlots would hang out (at least during the time of the harvest): they could glean the fields, and perhaps, er, supplement their income a bit with the field-hands. (See, e.g. the book of Ruth where there's some hanky-panky going on at the threshing floor...)
I'm surprised you didn't ask why Eliyahu was hanging out in a ruin given all this.
Hmmm... maybe he was looking for a harlot himself? ;-)
Isn't the Vilna Gaon the canonical mitnagid, in fact? As in, the division was between him and the Besht, yes?
Good point. I'm not an expert on the history of the mitnagidim, but that sounds right.