Unorthodox Jewish reflections on the issues of our day
25 Feb
Another milestone has occurred this week. We have crossed the 100,000 mark for the first time! Thanks for your support. By all means, I encourage you to participate in some of the discussions. Nobody has all the answers, and we have much to learn from one another.
Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel
19 Feb
Someone sent an interesting question the other day in an email: What is the most logical reason why the ego exists?
Why do people ask me only the easy questions?
Here is a thumbnail sketch. The answer to this question probably depends on how one wants to define the term “ego.” Philosophers, psychologists, theosophists and mystics each have their own perspective on what precisely constitutes the “ego.” According to Plato, which he identified with also identified with Nous (‘Mind’) and Descartes likewise had a similar view, namely, the ego is the personal identity of an individual that can exist independently of the body.
British skeptic David Hume was puzzled as to the nature of his core self, while other philosophers like Hobbes felt uncomfortable with anything that was so mysterious and non-physical.
Some thinkers believe that the ego pertains to the conscious areas of the personality associated with self-control and self-observation. On the other hand, Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) taught that the ego refers to a certain area of the psyche that stands at the center of the person and involves the individual’s attributes and functions. Without the ego, we would be incapable functioning. One of Freud’s best known quotes, “Where id was there shall ego be”—that situated Freud as the father of modern psychology. Freud asserts that consciousness is the ego’s awareness and mediation of the unconscious. This awareness in turn lets the ego realistically to allocate a part of the sexual force (libido) for sexual activity and love and productively, as well as sublimate the remainder for meaningful work. Without ever explaining why, Freud contends that reason enables the healthy ego to perceive a close approximation of reality. Thus, science and reason are indispensable for the individual’s salvation.
Another psychologist, Heinz Kohout, views the ego in a somewhat different light. He argues that the ego [or what he prefers to call "the self"] refers to the principle that gives unity to the mind without which we could not function. According to the French psychologist Piaget, the term egocentric does not denote a sense of self that is differentiated from the world but quite the opposite—the self is NOT separated or distinguished from the world; the ego has no sense healthy sense of separateness apart from the world. Often the word “ego” carries nothing but the most preparative connotations, but the simple truth is we would have no identity were it not for the ego. Continue Reading
11 Feb
A true Jewish mystic doesn’t need to use hype or self-promotion like Rabbi Yitzchak Batzri’s snake-oil charms. Any self-respecting Kabbalist shouldn’t live for the next photo-op.
Martin Buber has always been a great inspiration to me. His views on Jewish mysticism are grounded in the interpersonal realm of the ethical. We meet God when we respect the Other who is before us. Emmanuel Levinas expresses a similar thought in many of his writings as well, but Buber still remains my favorite.
Historically, people have often tried to control God through any kind of magical means at their disposal. The scriptural prohibition against making graven images is predicated upon the belief that man can control God; only in one’s imagination is such an absurd thought possible. Buber touches on this theme in a number of different works, but in the interest of time, I will cite one of my favorite quotes Buber is best known for concerning the danger of gnosis and magic that I think cuts to the heart of our problem today among certain types of hucksters like Rabbi Batzri.
“The two spiritual powers of gnosis and magic, masquerading under the cloak of religion, threaten more than any other powers the insight into the religious reality, into man’s dialogical situation. They do not attack religion from the outside; they penetrate into religion, and once inside it, pretend to be its essence. Because Judaism has always had to hold them at bay and to keep separate from them, its struggle has been largely internal. This struggle has often been misunderstood as a fight against myth. But only an abstract-theological monotheism can do without myth, and may even see it as its enemy; living monotheism needs myth, as all religious life needs it, as the specific form in which its central events can be kept safe and lastingly remembered and incorporated. Continue Reading
8 Feb
As of late, I have taken interest in reading the British Jewish news. After perusing through a number of articles, I came across a fascinating new-story. It isn’t every day a synagogue bans a classical Jewish book, but in one of Britain’s largest synagogues, that’s exactly what happened. Several students at an adult education class took offense to a mystical tract on self-improvement, better known as the “Tanya,” because of “racist” comments found in its early chapters. For newcomers, the Tanya is the Bible of the Lubavitcher movement. This book was composed toward the last half of the 18th century, at a time when Russian Jews struggled mightily against the czarist governments who showed little love or tolerance when it came to the Jews. Despite the questionable passages we are about to read, it was one of the 18th century’s first self-help books and most of its teachings are for the most part fairly appealing.
Here are the controversial passages that have created the controversy this past October.
In the Tanya. the author attempts to explain why the souls of Jews are different from the gentiles: “The explanation of this matter is according to what the Rabbi Chaim Vital OBM wrote … Every Jew, whether righteous or wicked, has two souls, as it says, ‘And the souls I have made’ — that is, two souls: one soul deriving from the side of the kelipa and the side that is antithetical to holiness… also naturally good character traits that are found in every Jew, such as mercifulness and charitable deeds, stem from it, for in a Jew, the soul of this kelipa derives from kelipat noga which also contains good…But it is not the case concerning Gentile souls, for they stem from other impure kelipot which contain no good…and the second soul of the Jew is surely part of G-d on high…” [1]
And shortly afterward, the author adds, “The kelipot are divided into two levels…the lower level consists of three impure and completely evil kelipot which contain no good whatsoever … from there the souls of the Gentiles are influenced and drawn, as are the bodies and the souls of all impure animals which are forbidden to eat…However, the vital animalistic soul in the Jews, which stems from the kelipa…and the souls of pure animals, beasts, birds, and fish which are permitted to eat…are influenced and drawn from the second level of the klipot…which is called kelipat noga…and the majority of it is evil, combined with a slight amount of good…”[2]
As I have pointed out in earlier posts, it is the nature of oppressed peoples to bolster their self-esteem and image by putting down the Other. While this is certainly not the kind of behavior any moral person ought to endorse, it helps to see this passage from the writer’s perspective. Often, tragic circumstances distort the way one spiritually looks at the world. Continue Reading
12 Jan
One of the best parables told by America’s greatest psychologist of the early 20th century, William James, who tells a story about a cat that loved to hang out at the library. The cat knows all the comfortable places; he knows how to get in and get out; he knows how to identify all the individual nooks and crannies. To the cat, the library is familiar territory; it probably feels quite proud that it masters all that it surveys—except for one thing: the cat hasn’t a clue that the library is a place where readers expand their knowledge of the universe, or enjoy reading as a delightful pastime.
William James likens the materialistic scientist of his age (but the analogy would apply no less to many of the scientists of our present day as well), to the cat of our parable. James explains further, “‘Here is the universe,’ he says to himself. All of its phenomena are determined and defined by the laws of nature. There are no longer any mysteries or secrets; a few questions here and there may still remain unanswered, but ultimately we know what lies behind it all, because we know the fundamental laws of physics.” But not all humanistic scientists share this kind of attitude; there are those who view science as never-ending search, and who believe that the universe has a great many aspects of which we are still unaware, or which at least have not yet been formulated scientifically.”
James’ idea is thought-provoking. Yes, the universe is like a library full of knowledge and consciousness is the key to self-knowledge. The mysteries that suffuse the universe–especially from a Maimonidean perspective–seems to strongly suggest us that the universe does not necessarily revolve around puny humanity. Of course many Jewish thinkers like Saadia Gaon and Nachmanides see the cosmos as an essentially anthropocentric enterprise, but personally, I find Maimonides’ attitude much more intriguing and realistic. Could there be parallel earths? Several scientists and quantum scholars seem to think this is a distinct possibility–even though there is no empirical evidence that this is so.
Einstein may have had James’ parable in mind when he wrote, “The human mind is not capable of grasping the Universe. We are like a little child entering a huge library. The walls are covered to the ceilings with books in many different tongues. The child knows that someone must have written these books. It does not know who or how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. But the child notes a definite plan in the arrangement of the books – a mysterious order which it does not comprehend, but only dimly suspects.”[2]
The human child may not have a real grasp of the library is either, but at least he realizes or senses that the library contains more information than he can possibly imagine. Unlike the cat, the human child realizes that each book tells a story—whether he understands that particular story may not be so clear to the young person at his age, but he knows that as his mastery of language and ideas improve, eventually he will be able to enjoy any book he desires to read. The cat, on the other hand, will always remain a cat.
Einstein’s advice for laypeople and commoners is especially relevant today:
“The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed. It was the experience of mystery–even if mixed with fear—that engendered religion. A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, our perceptions of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which only in their most primitive forms are accessible to our minds—it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute true religiosity; in this sense, and in this alone, I am a deeply religious man.” [3]
[2] Albert Einstein, Ideas and Opinions.
[2] Albert Einstein, The World as I See It (New York: Philosophical Library, 1934), 15.
5 Jan
Many medieval commentators—both Christian and Jewish—often attribute Job’s suffering to all sorts of divine, satanic, karmic, and physical causes.[1] Most modern commentaries seldom attribute Job’s suffering to a human origin. However, an examination of his complaints reveal that much of Job’s pain was directed at a public’s failure to express compassion toward him when he needed it the most.[2] Simply put, Job did not have a community; he lived in a city where its citizens practiced a rugged ethic of individualism—every person lived for himself. Job’s community people measured God’s blessings solely in terms of wealth and property. For them, to be without financial resources rendered a person as marginal–even disposable, for in prosperous societies the wealthy frequently directed their rage towards those who could protect themselves.
While this may sound like a new deconstructive reading of the text, it actually has antecedents in Rashi’s commentary (12th century). Strangely, the entire book seems to be empty of metaphors depicting human or Divine compassion.[3] This would seem to substantiate Rashi’s view that the entire book is a parable about pastoral care as an antidote to the mind-numbing and senseless suffering people often experience. From a pastoral perspective, Job stresses how empathy and tenderness are essential ingredients in healing the heart of the sufferer. The general attitude espoused by Job’s friends was “Woe to the wicked, and woe to his neighbors!” Or, “Stay away from an evil person; otherwise, you may end up like him.” Job experiences this kind of rejection firsthand. One might wonder: “Why does Job put up with such friends?” The Talmud notes that human beings need friendship in order to live. Death itself is preferable to not having any friends at all—even if they are happen to be schlemiels, much like the friends of Job.[4]
More to follow…
[2] Rashi explains that the book of Job teaches us two important things: (1) that we may learn from it a response to those who condemn God’s attribute of justice (2) Job also serves to instruct us that no person ought to be blamed for words that he utters because of personal pain (Rashi’s commentary to TB Bava Batra 15a).
Elsewhere Rashi adds on the verse in Job 42:7, “For you did not comfort me with your ‘verbal defense’ as did my servant, Job.” His only sin consisted of saying ‘He destroys both the innocent with the wicked…’ (Job 9:23). And whatever else Job said came from his suffering which weighed heavily upon him and forced him to speak thusly. But you [the friends], on the other hand, were wrongful to accuse him of being wicked. In the end, it is you who are now silent and defeated before him. Instead of attacking him, you should have comforted him as Elihu did. As if Job didn’t have enough suffering, you added guilt to your sins by angering him.
[3] The absence of human compassion is most conspicuously present in the Jobian tale. For example, the word hesed (loving-kindness) appears only three times in the entire Jobian narrative and only when Job implores his friends for help. Likewise, the Hebrew word for nechama, (“comfort”), appears only seven times in the entire book. Only twice does Job ever receive nechama from his friends–the first occurs at the very beginning of Job 2:11. At this stage, Job’s friends express no verbal criticism of him. The second instance appears at the very end of the Jobian narrative (42:11)—after Job is finally vindicated.
[4] TB Taanit 23a; TB Bava Batra, 16a.
30 Dec
Chesterton on Private Religion
G. K. Chesterton (1874–1936), “Introduction to the Book of Job”:
The modern habit of saying “Every man has a different philosophy; this is my philosophy and it suits me”—the habit of saying this is mere weak-mindedness. A cosmic philosophy is not constructed to fit a man; a cosmic philosophy is constructed to fit a cosmos. A man can no more possess a private religion than he can possess a private sun and moon.
Any comments?
31 Oct
The verse in question reads:
Genesis 4:8: “Cain said to his brother Abel; Cain rose up against his brother Abel, and killed him.”
The biblical narrator does not disclose what was actually spoken between the two brothers. Ibn Ezra suggested that Cain spoke to his brother about the words YHWH had said to him. However, one might argue that it is doubtful Cain would have told his brother everything God disclosed to him, namely, the divine reprimand. Abel’s silence is striking. The Jerusalem Targum offers a moving Midrashic paraphrase of the narrative:
And it was when they went out to the field, Cain answered and said to Abel his brother, “There is neither justice nor is the world accountable to an Ultimate Judge, nor is there another world [beyond this one]; neither is there a good reward given to the just, nor will vengeance be exacted of the wicked. Nor was the world created in goodness, nor is the world conducted with goodness. Therefore this is the [real] reason why your sacrifice was accepted with good will, and mine was not accepted with good will [The universe is a capricious reality, and God is indifferent to the welfare of humankind --MS].” Abel replied to Cain, “There is justice, and there is a Judge: there is another world, and a good reward is given to the just, and vengeance taken of the wicked. The world was created with goodness and it is governed with. But ultimately, everything goes according to the quality of the deeds. Because my works were superior to yours, my offering was accepted with good will, and yours was not accepted with good will.” And as they two disputed on the field and Cain arose against Abel his brother, and killed him.
Midrashic interpretation adds a nuance that does not appear in the original biblical story that is suggestive. The absence of brotherly concern and empathy on the part of Abel toward his brother’s failure only made Cain feel more resentful toward his successful brother. Instead of de-hostilizing his angry and resentful brother, Abel’s self-righteous attitude only added more fuel to the fire. Whereas at first Cain felt anger at God, now he directs his anger toward God via his brother, who has now given him an excuse to “even the score.” So long as Abel lived, Cain thought he would live the most marginal kind of existence. Once Abel was dead, Cain thought that his low self-esteem would cease.
