|
B"H
Parshat Chukas, July 13, 2019
Onward to Thailand
When I was younger, I was hesitant to challenge the status quo. It’s not that I didn’t have concerns or questions, but rather I was fearful of being wrong. I attended Yeshivot that had a very hierarchical system. The higher up on the totem pole, the closer you are to God. And the closer you are to God, the more in tune you are with truth. Collectively, all students were taught to be cognizant of our limited knowledge and place our confidence in the wisdom of our leaders. We were advised to follow their teachings and to be subservient to our rabbis and elders. But as I age, my fear has diminished; I can begin to seek truths without fear or trepidation. I no longer have ample time, willingness, or patience to be subservient. I’m at the age when my decisions are based less on what others think is right for me and more on what I myself believe to be correct. It’s not that I don’t see wisdom in their approach, it’s just that I now believe it is important for me to be responsible for myself. In my formative years it was pedagogically sound to seek guidance and understanding from those greater than me, but I think I have matured to a point where I can stand on my own two feet.
And perhaps because I choose to listen to my inner voice we travel to places off the beaten track. We are currently in the nether regions of Thailand and as far as I my eyes can see there is vast openness and stillness. I hear the chirping of birds and look upon nature with slight envy as it dances to its own rhythm. I'm on a mountain overlooking unique rock formations protruding from a glorious surround of blue sea. I imagine God, Himself, with a paintbrush in hand, artistically designing this serene and picturesque scene. Being here over a Shabbat can connect one to Hashem in ways unimaginable in other more traditional locations. Opening one's eyes can be sufficient to engender an understanding of the uniqueness of the six days of creation culminating with the Shabbat, the seventh day of rest.
But the experience has left me with new questions. It behooves me to ponder if a singular focus on organizational Judaism is selling us short? I have been studying about Shabbat for well over a half century, and none of my teachers introduced me to the spirituality of nature. Why did I and a myriad of yeshiva students have to miss out on this Godly connection? Why did our rabbis think studying the laws of Shabbat are more important than seeing His creation from a more realistic perspective? King David wrote, “Esa einai el heharim, m’ayin yavo ezri - I lift up my eyes unto the mountain, from where will come my help." And although those words were part of my upbringing, when did I ever have a chance to see mountains? These words were meaningless; what I was reciting was incompatible with my underdeveloped mind. In contrast with ancient synagogues unearthed and excavated in Israel, modern day synagogues are void of scenery and nature. Some may have picturesque stained glass or fresh flowers on holidays, but do they express the magnitude of beauty that exists in God’s creations. And if Shabbat is really designed to remind us of creation, does attending shul services foster the greatest comprehension of God’s mastery or the beauty of the universe?
The closest shul from our hotel is a mere seven hour walk and I have little desire in seeking hero status. But, even if the distance were not an obstacle, I question whether it would be more beneficial on this Shabbat to be in sync with nature. Interacting with different people and playing Jewish geography is enjoyable, but can it compare with interacting with the divine on a personal level? Will my spirituality be heightened or diminished by focusing solely on God’s beauty? I can go to shul daily, but how often am I in the midst of God’s mysterious wonders?
As I contemplate the laws as traditionally understood, I know my thoughts and interpretations may be incongruous with many orthodox rabbis. Most will accept what’s written literally. They would likely support the position that it’s always preferable to pray with a minyan than to pray individually. But I no longer believe in a narrow view or that any one approach is the only correct approach. Nor do I believe that the writers of the laws believed that, as well. The laws were written not as absolute but as a default position. It was assumed that most individuals would better be able to gain spirituality by attending services than by looking at nature. However, there are some who don’t fit into the ruling authority’s assessment. And for them, an alternative may be far better than what was considered by the writers of the law. Did you know that some leaders of Chasidic Movements do not pray with their congregation? They have a room on the side of the synagogue where they sit in solitude interacting with Hashem in a deeply personal and spiritual manner. Their heightened level warrants that they pray in a unique manner that is vastly different to everyone else. Were they granted special authority to break the law or did they know that the law was never intended to be an absolute?
One of the greatest scholars in medieval times was the Rambam aka Maimonides. Nowadays Maimonides is highly regarded throughout the Orthodox Jewish world, but this was not always the case. During and immediately after his death many of his contemporaries considered his writings to be heretical and some of his writings were banned. However, the contradictions in his writings may be because he, too, understood Judaism through a prism that allowed for alternative understanding. His Mishna Torah was written for the masses articulating Jewish law in a concise and organized manner. However, Moreh Nevuchim - Guide to the Perplexed, his book on philosophy, may have only been intended for people capable of fathoming multiple approaches to Judaism.
Obviously, my ideas can lead down a slippery slope spurning ideas that I disagree with. My objective is never to minimize the sanctity and validity of the Torah and the teachings of the rabbis. On the contrary, both are fundamental to maintaining the essential elements of Judaism. One may not violate Jewish law with a justification that the violation of the law is spiritually enhancing their Judaism. (Even if it’s true, it’s misguided.) I know people who light Shabbat candles on Friday night when they arrive home after work. They do so even in the winter when Shabbat begins at 4:15pm although they don’t finish work until 6:00pm. In their minds, they are enhancing the Shabbat, and indeed they may be doing exactly that, but it’s nonetheless wrong to violate a Torah law to gain a spiritual enhancement of Shabbat. What I hope is understood from my words is that the Torah and the words of the rabbis are never limited to only one single approach. There could be multiple correct answers but all the answers have to based on a credible comprehension of the law. However, I’m vehemently opposed to the new age worldview, that if it feels right it must be right.
The commentary known by his magnum opus, Kli Yakar, expounds on a similar theme in Parshat Shoftim. He quotes the Talmud in Sanhedrin 17a that states that in order for a judge to be appointed to the Sanhedrin - the Supreme Court of 70 members they must pass an extensive test. (Thank God not a grueling congressional oversight). On the test they are asked to prove the impossible; they have to find 150 different ways to show that pork is kosher. Imagine that! The highest judge has to prove something that every first grade student knows is wrong. And in order to ensure that only the brightest candidates made the cut, 150 different proofs were necessary to prove their point. Why would they demand such a heretical test knowing without a doubt that pork is not kosher? The answer, says the Kli Yakar, is that nothing in Judaism is absolute. There are always multiple ways of looking at everything, even the possibility that what we were certain about could be seen differently. Therefore, never imagine that your way of thinking is the only correct way. Many, of course, think that their way is the only correct way. But then they would immediately be excluded from serving on the Sanhedrin.
So who knows for sure, but maybe my motivation for writing this article is that I hope and pray for Mashiach to come and hasten our redemption. And then, a vacancy may be open( for the next Sanhedrin and I might want to apply.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Jack
PS: In the home of Rabbi Itzele of Voloshin (son of Rabbi Chaim of Voloshin and father in law of the Netziv), a guest arrived late for a Shabbat meal and was given two slices of bread for lechem mishneh. (Lechem mishneh is the two whole challot used for hamotzi on Shabbat and Yom Tov) And although some sitting at the table were shocked and appalled by the rabbi’s decision, he nonetheless ruled that it was fine. (Another example of what we always believed to be an absolute, may not be.)
|
