The Book of Doctrines and Opinions:

I was interviewed by Makor Rishon last year and it was published on January 18, 2023. Below is an English translation. It is a little awkward in phrasing since I gave the interview in English and it was translated into Hebrew and then back into English. some phrases and some of my voice were lost in translation. I find it interesting how I am understood in the portrait as basically all interfaith.

Here is the Hebrew original https://www.makorrishon.co.il/shabbat/567283/

R20 Conference in Bali, Indonesia -November 2022, press conference after my talk

“Hindu Meditation is Closer to Judaism than Vipassana and Buddhist Techniques”

Rabbi Professor Alan Brill teaches in a Catholic college, travels to interfaith conferences around the world, helps Indonesians articulate a moderate version of Islam, and compares Indian religions to Kabbalah; following his teacher Rabbi Soloveitchik, however, rejects the idea of a common alliance of all religions.

By Yeshaya Rosenman

“I have never taught at a secular college,” Prof. Alan Brill tells me with a smile. “I taught at the religious institutions of Jews, Muslims, Protestants, Catholics, and Hindus. I think I’m the only person in the world who has taught in each of these kinds of institutions.”

Rabbi Professor Alan Brill (61) is a full professor at Seton Hall University in New Jersey, a Catholic institution. He wrote his doctoral dissertation on the thought of Rabbi Tzadoq HaKohen of Lublin at Fordham University, another Catholic university in New York. He belongs to the large Orthodox community of Teaneck, New Jersey, and visits Israel regularly. He is now in Israel attending an academic conference at Bar-Ilan University on the legacy of the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. I took the opportunity to chat with him about his interfaith activities with Muslims and Hindus, and about his unique writing on these subjects.

For the average Israeli, studying and teaching at Catholic universities sounds almost like studying at Al-Azhar University in Cairo. How did you get there?

“Fordham is right next to Yeshiva University, where I did my bachelor’s and master’s degrees in general philosophy. I thought about doing my PhD at Columbia University, but when I came to the interview, they told me: ‘We study religions through a social sciences lens. If you want to research “from the inside,” as a religious person, go to Fordham.’ Neither did I feel at all strange at Fordham, nor was I the only religious Jew there. One of the lecturers once told us: ‘Look around: Catholics, Mennonites, Greek Orthodox, and Orthodox Jews sitting together. You are not the typical Americans!’ At Fordham, I wrote about Maimonides, and my classmates wrote about a parallel Christian figure, Thomas Aquinas. I felt at home with them more than I do with secular non-Jews.

“That is how I feel today at Seton Hall. Northern New Jersey is one of the most religiously and linguistically diverse places in the world. Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, and Hindu populations, in that order. It is the largest Indian diaspora outside Asia. The number of Muslims and Hindus at the university is steadily increasing. These are immigrants who want a conservative institution for their children, where religions are respected, where prayer is made accessible, and where the cafeteria serves Halal. By the way, in general, local Muslims trust the OU’s kashrut, and they have a website with a list of impermissible items containing alcohol. We have no violent confrontations with Muslims in New Jersey. This attendance at Seton Hall is a kind of natural, ethnic conservatism, not an ideological one like that of the Catholic justices on the Supreme Court. These are children of immigrants who want to escape the aggressive secularism of campus culture, who find a ‘Noah’s Ark’ in which there is almost no preoccupation with the culture war raging around us.”

In the wake of 9/11

During the ‘80s, Brill spent a few years in Jerusalem, and looked into the possibility of doing his doctorate at Hebrew University. After his doctorate, he taught Talmud at Maimonides High School in Boston and later Hasidism at Yeshiva University, at that time he was a sought-after lecturer at many Jewish institutions. In 2013,  he was awarded the prestigious Fulbright scholarship and chose to travel and teach Judaism at the Hindu university in Varanasi. Upon his return, he posted several recounts of his experiences to his excellent blog, “The Book of Doctrines and Opinions.” Later on, he lectured and was interviewed for various platforms, and finally authored a book called Rabbi on the Ganges (2019), an introduction to Hinduism for religious Jews. The book and its bibliography reveal impressive expertise of the English-language literature on Indian religions and is rife with ongoing comparisons to all arenas of Torah literature: Jewish thought, Kabbalah, and Hasidism.

This book was preceded by two others: Judaism and World Religions: Encountering Christianity, Islam, and Eastern Traditions (2012), and Judaism and Other Religions:Models of Understanding (2010). Selected excerpts of Brill’s books have been translated into several languages (although not into Hebrew).

“I studied general philosophy at Yeshiva University in 1978, and was ordained as a rabbi in one of the last years that people received semikha from Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (‘the Rav’). I helped organize events and the summer lectures of his, but we did not have a very close relationship. I was close with Rabbi Walter Wurzburger, the Rav’s student in philosophy. Rabbi Wurzburger engaged in interfaith dialogue with Catholics after Nostra aetate (the historic 1965 Vatican council that announced a fundamental change in the Catholic Church’s attitude towards the Jews).

“It is often said that Rabbi Soloveitchik opposed interfaith discourse, but we have to specify what exactly he opposed. He was not opposed to intellectual discussions. The lectures that became The Lonely Man of Faith were given at the Catholic St. Joseph’s Seminary and College, where the Rav tried to explain Judaism to Catholics. Famous Christian theologians such as Paul Tillich also lectured as part of the same series. The Rav opposed a ‘shared covenant’ with Christianity. He refused to discuss similarities between the religions, or a common religious-existential experience. He did not want to build commonality between Jewish and Christian theology and did not desire a common religious brotherhood.

“I hold this approach, in line with the Rav. I reject the idea that there is a shared covenant between all religions or Abrahamic religions. After all the analysis and discussions, when all is said and done, each religion has its own unique theology, setting it apart in the context of prayer, exegesis, and spirituality. I am not looking to point out connections between religions; rather, I am trying as a Jew to react to the world of great religious diversity that surrounds us today. What’s more, I believe that there is wisdom in these religions—as the saying goes, ‘There is wisdom among the nations, believe it’” (Lamentations Rabah 2:14).

Although Rabbi Wurzburger suggested he join the interfaith activities when he was a student, Brill did so beginning only in the early 2000s, as part of the global flourishing of interfaith discourse in the wake of the September 11 attacks, which were carried out in the name of Islam.

“During that period,” Brill points out, “Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ book The Dignity of Difference was published just a few months after 9/11, constituting a summary of the lectures he gave in response to the attack. Rabbi Sacks discussed questions of religious diversity and the place of Islam in the contemporary world, and this book raised his profile as an international thinker. At the same time, The Economist also published a book called God is Back. Until then, the West did not really treat religion as a living thing that influences world politics. Religious studies in universities focused on classical texts. But studying the Buddha’s sermons will not explain to you why the Rohingya are being persecuted in Myanmar, so they understood that there needed to be a change in the study materials.”

The Transformation of the Emirates

In 2004, Brill had the opportunity to explain his worldview on the subject of theology of other religions as part of a large conference of rabbis and senior Catholic clergy, under the auspices of the World Jewish Congress. “Present were figures like Rabbi Steinsaltz, senior members of the Conference of European Rabbis, and priests like Fr Patrick Debois. I gave a lecture there on the theology of other religions, which was the basis for my first book on the topic. I tried to clarify what the Torah says about other religions, employing four categories of relationships between religions, developed by others before me: exclusivity, inclusivity, pluralism, and universalism. Exclusivity means your religion is the true one, and everything else is false; inclusivity means that your religion is true, and you are willing to accept other religions on your own religion’s terms; pluralism means that there are many ways to worship God, or even many gods to worship and that all pathways are legitimate; and universalism will claim that all religions share a common kernel.

“Not all of these categories suit us as Jews, but it should be emphasized that these are not necessarily mutually exclusive categories. Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook used more than one of these categories. The breadth of the library in your beit midrash indicates what you deem legitimate.

It should be noted that this lecture was given at a completely different era from that of Rabbi Wurzburger’s interfaith activities. In the audience were Hebrew-speaking priests with degrees in Talmud, as well as Jews who were well-versed in Catholic theology. This meeting did not belong to an inchoate earlier stage, but was one in which collaboration was already underway.”

What kind of collaboration?

“There can’t be just one format; it is always contingent upon local needs. Sometimes it is the fight against antisemitism, and other times it is promoting civil rights legislation. Nor should it be expected that the goals of Jews and Catholics will always coincide. I was working in collaboration with a host of Jewish organizations.”

You don’t necessarily find deep religious questions within the struggles for human and civil rights. What do we do with instances whereby antisemitism stems from sacred texts themselves, such as Islamic antisemitism?

“Recently, I was in Indonesia, at the personal invitation of the Islamic Nahdatul Ulama party. They read excerpts from my book translated into Indonesian, and wanted me to help them build a Muslim version of what I did in my book. I was also asked to help them formulate a campaign against antisemitism in Indonesia. The country has a culture of antisemitic conspiracies, from The Protocols of the Elders of Zion to the conspiracies about the Rothschild family.

“You have to understand that Islam in Indonesia is very different from what you are familiar with in Israel. There are two major Islamic parties, and they are the pillars of support for the democratic regime in Indonesia. Their Islam is a tolerant one, resting against the backdrop of the religions that preceded it in Indonesia: Hinduism and Buddhism. Nahdatul Ulama represents traditional Islam, which is syncretistic. They do not interpret the hadith stringently, and they combine Sufism with popular religion. The second party, Muhammadiyah, are ‘modern orthodox,’ as it were. They emphasize Islamic law, but are not an offshoot of the Muslim Brotherhood. Both of these parties are opposed to extremist Salafist factions, who desire an undemocratic Sharia state. Neighboring Malaysia watches Indonesia closely. Even though it is a much more extremist state, if everyone else progresses, they will not want to be left behind.”

Can Islam be democratic?

“Islam in every country is different. Indonesia has its own unique story. You see, even their Hindus and Buddhists say they believe in the oneness of God, in the Prophecy, and in reward and punishment. On the other hand, Muslims there have no problem watching plays of the Ramayana epic, which is sacred to Indians.

From a different perspective, that of Turkey, I spent two days in the court of the Turkish Muslim scholar Fethullah Gülen in New Jersey, and I heard him lecture to his students. He is a tolerant person, which is why he had to flee Erdogan’s Turkey. Islam in Senegal is also tolerant, but for completely different reasons.”

Is de-radicalization possible, given that extremist Islam has already become deep-seated?

“In 2018, before the Abraham Accords, I was on an American Jewish Committee (AJC) delegation to the Emirates, the aim being to familiarize the Emiratis with Jews and rabbis. Right before my eyes, the Emirates went from extreme Salafism to ‘spiritual but not religious.’ Over the years I had contacts with Saudis, and they want to progress in a different way. Morocco also has its own approach.”

And where is the state of Israel in all of this?

“The process I’m observing in Indonesia is supposed to be similar to what is happening in the Emirates. In 2019, I taught a semester at the illustrious Gadjah Mada University in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, and visited major Islamic colleges in the country. This was the initial stage, and now the phenomenon is burgeoning. After laying the infrastructure in Indonesia for meetings with rabbis and Jews, the conditions will be riper to implement normalization and diplomatic relations with the state of Israel.”

The Pandits refused to eat with me

How did you arrive at your engagement with India’s religions? It is a pioneering field in which few religious Jews have engaged.

“Over the years I read Indian religious texts. In 2012, I applied for a Fulbright senior scholars award, with the goal of teaching in a foreign country. Given my prior research on Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan and his writings on Jewish meditation, the concept was to travel to India and compare Jewish techniques to Hindu meditation, which I immediately realized is more akin to Jewish methods than Vipassana and Buddhist techniques are.”

There are those who claim that Rabbi Kaplan took Indian material and rendered it in Jewish terms. Do you agree with this assertion?

“Rabbi Kaplan read Eastern texts, and essentially reframed Jewish materials within frameworks that were commonplace in Eastern discourse at the time. It should be noted that Indian materials from before the twentieth century were written using very complex, abstract, and difficult-to-understand terminology. At the beginning of the twentieth century, Swami Vivekananda, in his book Raja Yoga, adapted these texts into simple instructions for practice, and in so doing constructed Indian meditation as we know it. Other guides copied him. Rabbi Kaplan did something similar with the Jewish tradition: he translated the complex and abstract texts of the Kabbalists and Hasidim into simple language. He availed himself of his general knowledge of physics, psychology, and Eastern teachings. He did not read the Indian literature in the original.”

In your mind, why are Jews and Israelis attracted to India?

“Initially, it is because of India’s ‘exotic’ nature—Israelis don’t necessarily understand at all the difference between a Hindu, a Buddhist, or a Sikh. They see modernized ashram culture. It should be emphasized that ashram culture is neo-Hinduism, it is not the religion that Indians themselves know. For 98% of Indians, religion means dietary restrictions, marriage laws, purity and impurity, life cycle rituals, holidays, etc. In fact, the ashrams don’t call themselves Hindu, instead using other names, such as ‘followers of Advaita Vedanta.’

We have to grasp what an insult it is when an Israeli who meditated in an ashram begins to essentialize how religion functions in the East. Imagine if a non-Jewish tourist who studied ‘Kabbalah’ for a few weeks were to explain to a religious Jew how to properly pray with kavvanot.

And does the Indian commoner have any familiarity with what is studied in ashrams?

“There are many movements in Hinduism. They each emphasize different aspects and are intended for different audiences. There is religion for the middle class, for academics, and for spiritual types. If you are a Gujarati businessman, you will go to Swaminarayan’s BAPS institutions. They build huge temples in the ancient Indian style, in the private ceremonies at home, there are no statues and no offerings. For them, everything is internalized and performed meditatively in one’s consciousness.”

So Maimonides was right when he said that the more religion progresses, the more abstract and monotheistic it becomes?

“Not necessarily. ISKCON is a movement with Christian influences, which is why they are fans of icons, and cleave to the image of baby Krishna as Christians do with baby Jesus. Two stages in the modernization of religions can be identified: first, the period from pre-modernity to modernity; and second, the twentieth century to the twenty-first century. In nineteenth-century India there were reformers who belonged to the local enlightenment movement, the ‘Bengali Renaissance,’ such as Ram Mohan Roy and his disciples, who are very much the Indian parallel to Reform Jews. Thereafter, thinkers like Sivananda articulated the Hindu commandments in ethical and non-mystical terms, similar to our own Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch. Most of the Indians I met still think of their religion in this way, and are offended when people say that their religion is mystical and not ethical.

In the twenty-first century, you see a new stage where Hindu or Buddhist meditation teachers teach meditation for the purpose of stress-reduction and achieving happiness, wealth, and the like.

Classical Indian texts already have all the layers we are familiar with in Judaism. Mimamsa corresponds to Jewish Midrashei Halakha, Nyaya corresponds to its medieval scholastic thought, and texts that I have researched in Tantra literature correspond to Kabbalistic kavvanot. I plan to publish a comparison of Tantra to Kabbalah.”

The Colonialism of Monotheism

What is your opinion on the deification of human beings in India? To the Jewish observer, this is a shocking phenomenon.

“Also to many Indian observers, certainly the Pandits. Any time you would mention to them –you might get an earful on the moral corruption of these characters.”

The Tantra literature you mentioned is a genre of Indian mystical literature known to Westerners mainly in its sexual valences. What does Tantra mean to Indians?

“In India, meditation that combines intention and action is called tantra. The purpose of tantra is the union of the male and female elements, Shiva and Shakti. This might be compared to the unification of Qudsha B’rikh Hu and His Shekhina according to the Kabbalists. Tantric techniques are very complex, with similarities to the kavvanot of the Kabbalists. I showed Indian colleagues texts of the prayer kavvanot from the early Kabbalists, and they immediately recognized the similarity. These colleagues are people who read Gershom Scholem and his disciples and already have a general familiarity.

Yoga is generally about abstract mental states of absorbtion—even if in modern versions of yoga, such as hatha yoga, there is a majority focus on breathing and postures. In Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, these body postures are described in just 13 words. Whereas in the ancient yogic texts, you will find mountains of words about different mental states.

“The transgressive things that Westerners associate with the worlds of tantra—which Indians themselves hardly engage in—are referred to as ‘left hand tantra.’ ‘Right hand tantra,’ however, centers visualizations, similar to the philosophy of kavvanot. Left hand tantra is concerned with ‘sin performed in God’s name’ (‘aveirah lishmah), that is, intentional transgression of religious prohibitions in order to be above the Law and beyond religious notions of good and evil: forbidden marriages between high and low castes, violations of purity laws, laws of worship, and more.”

When it comes to Tantra, is there a recognition of feminism?

“Indian discussions of female deities and female spirituality do not necessarily go hand-in-hand with feminism. On the contrary, sometimes such discourse is entangled with misogyny and the subjugation of women. Many more social reforms are needed in India, and religion alone will not provide for that.”

And after all is said and done, Indian culture is idolatrous. In fact, it can be associated with the most classic case of idolatry known to us from the Bible. If there is one animal we associate with idolatry, it is the cow.

Brill laughs when I mention cows. “First of all, Indians never pray to or worship cows. The cow is the symbol of motherly kindness, which gives nourishing milk to all. Therefore, it is simply on the same stratum of existence as humans, and therefore humans may not eat them. In the Dharmasastra it is written that ‘every day one should help gods, humankind, cows, and the poor.’ In India, there are different stages of religious development, wherein different reforms were undertaken. There is a striking difference between Indian and Jewish traditions: we do not claim that the worshipers of Ba’al and Ashtoreth, or the golden calf and the copper snake, are part of our tradition. But the Indians will say that all the disparate stages of their religion were once a part of their faith, and only today certain parts are no longer extent.

“It is important for me to clarify the question of polytheism and monotheism. The majority of Indians, about 70%, are Vishnu worshipers, and about 24% are Shiva worshipers. They all worship one transcendent God, above nature, who is not one of the forces of nature—irrespective of our notion that using idols even to worship one God is forbidden by the Torah. Recently there was a conference on Vaishnavism, with 16 speakers from around the world, and the lectures are about to be published as a book. Every speaker claimed to be a monotheist. They also do not worship individual idols, but indeed one God, ‘God of gods,’ as in the Torah.

This is how they see themselves today, and this is what they read back into their classical texts. Shiva worshipers have always believed in only one God. The novelty is that the Vaishnavas are even willing to ignore the Vedas, the most ancient layer of Indian religion, for this purpose. The important medieval commentaries on the classic texts all state that the highest understanding of religion is toward Oneness of the paraBrahman, as the formless divine. Sure, it’s unsurprising that they did away with Vedic horse sacrifices; theologically, however, they made an even deeper revision as a reaction to the spiritual challenge of monotheism that arose starkly via encounters with the West.”

Many Indian polemicists speak fervidly against monotheism and against the zealotry of the Abrahamic religions.

“They say ‘monotheism’ and mean ‘colonialism.’ The monotheism they hate is Christianity, which granted the British the right to conquer India in its name, and Islam, with which they are in conflict to this day. They have never heard of Judaism and think of monotheism as a single religion that strives to destroy all other religions. India’s contemporary right-wing and its spokespeople demand that Islam be tolerant again, as it has been for many years in India. They view fanatical Pakistani Islam as a mutation shaped under Arab influence, foreign to the subcontinent.”

There is a story told about the birth of the Baal Shem Tov, the founder of the Chassidic movement. His parents, Reb Eliezer and Sara, were known far and wide for their generous hospitality. Elijah the Prophet was once sent to their home to test their sincerity. One Shabbos afternoon, Eliyahu banged on their door carrying a staff in his hand and a knapsack on his back thereby clearly desecrating the Shabbos.

Reb Eliezer opened the door and warmly greeted his guest.  Although Reb Eliezer understood that the beggar had violated Shabbos, he pretended not to notice. Reb Eliezer told his guest. “Please, come and join us.” The next morning, Reb Eliezer and his wife prepared to send the beggar off with a generous donation, as well as provisions for the way. Not once did they mention a word about their guest’s lack of Shabbos observance the previous day.

As he was walking out the door, Eliyahu Hanavi revealed to Reb Eliezer his true identity. “Since you did not shame me when I came to your house,” Eliyahu told him, “you and your wife will soon be blessed with a son who will illuminate the world with the depths of his Torah.” The following year, Reb Eliezer’s wife gave birth to a son, Israel, who become the Baal Shem Tov.

In this story, the prophet Elijah serves as a divine messenger to test the sincerity of mortal humans and to bestow miracles. He also stands in for the modern Jew giving up observance.  In the 21^st century, these stories continue to flourish with ever-new permutations of Elijah as a divine helper who still shows up on the streets of New York or Jerusalem.

In his recent award-winning book Becoming Elijah: Prophet of Transformation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2022), Daniel C. Matt shows how Elijah evolved from his portrayal in the Bible as a zealous prophet, attacking idolatry and injustice, championing God to a folk hero champion of the common Jew. Though residing in heaven, Elijah revisits earth—to help, rescue, enlighten, and eventually herald the Messiah.

Daniel Matt is a noted scholar of Kabbalah who spent 18 years translating the Zohar. His nine-volume annotated translation The Zohar: Pritzker Edition – received various awards and has been hailed as “a monumental contribution to the history of Jewish thought.”. Matt received his Ph.D. from Brandeis and taught for many years at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California.  Daniel lives in Berkeley and currently teaches Zohar online (danielcmatt.com). People I know locally highly recommend his online Zohar class.

Recently, Becoming Elijah was awarded the inaugural Rabbi Jonathan Sacks Book Prize, established by Yeshiva University. It is interesting to note that this is one of the first times the university has given any award to a book not affiliated with Orthodoxy.

Matt’s book Becoming Elijah: Prophet of Transformation was published by Yale University Press in their series Jewish Lives. Therefore, he presents a biography of Elijah through the ages, the way Jack Miles wrote an award-winning biography of God. Matt surveys how this Biblical zealot evolves into a popular figure in Jewish tradition. Becoming Elijah traces how Elijah develops from the Bible to Rabbinic Judaism, Kabbalah, and Jewish ritual (as well as Christianity and Islam) culminating in Hasidut.

The book is enjoyable and a quick reading as a romantic anthology of sources, part folklore, and part literary work. Matt gives most sources no more than a paragraph, so the book is a rapid survey more than analysis, more kaleidoscope than theology. Matt’s bibliography is a gold mine of works on Elijah. I would still recommend as an ancillary reading Aaron Wiener, Prophet Elijah in the Development of Judaism: A Depth-psychological Study(Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 1978) which offers psychological analysis. Matt’s book can profitably be read alongside its out-of-print predecessor.

The commitment to the biography format treating each literary unit- Midrash, Kabbalah, Jewish ritual- as if it was a self-contained historic event or major trend may have been too restrictive in that many things were associated together that needed their own section. For example, all Kabbalistic citations are in a single overpacked chapter.

In the last chapter, Matt presents the Hasidic idea that individual people contain an aspect of Elijah in their own souls, in which there is an inner quality of Elijah within all of us. Which he interprets with his own unique Neo-Hasidic homily as the evolution to inner compassion.

The book stops without modernity at the end of the eighteenth century. Therefore, we do not hear the above story of the parents of the Baal Shem Tov. We do not get to hear how S Ansky uses Elijah as a harbinger of the breakdown and destruction of Galicia Jewry. We do not hear how Elie Wiesel treats Elijah “as the chronicler, the historian of Jewish suffering. He takes note of every tragic event, every massacre, every pogrom, every agony, and every tear; thanks to him, nothing is lost. His most magnificent role is that of witness; he is the memory of the Jewish people.“ And we definitely don’t get to hear how Jacques Derrida considers Elijah- which is his own middle name- epitomizes the “coming of the other” into the differential space of language. In the later texts, the figure of Elijah is invoked to signal the promise of a language—performative rather than affirmative, paradoxically determined by its own indeterminability.

The book will make a great gift to your hosts for Passover Seder and buy a second copy for yourself as your Passover book. Pick a nice bottle of wine for a Passover lunch and then spend the day reading the exploits of Elijah, the prophet.  Maybe when he visits everyone’s seder this year, he will recount to us his latest adventures to add to his already rich biography.

1) How long have you been interested in Elijah?

I have been interested in Elijah ever since I was a little boy, the curious son of a rabbi. Of course, we expected Elijah annually at the Seder, but he seemed to pop up so frequently, especially every Saturday night, when we sang a song about him as we said “Goodbye” to the Sabbath Queen. I wondered who he was, and if he was real.

Writing Becoming Elijah occupied me for about 5 years: two years of reading and collecting sources, a little more than a year of writing, and then about 2 years of editing and seeing the book through the publication process.

2) What did Cynthia Ozick say about Elijah? Does your book agree with her statement?

One of Cynthia Ozick’s characters (in Envy, or, Yiddish in America) has this to say: “Please remember that when a goy from Columbus, Ohio, says ‘Elijah the Prophet’ he’s not talking about Eliohu hanovi. Eliohu is one of us, a folksmensh, running around in second-hand clothes. Theirs is God knows what. The same biblical figure, with exactly the same history, once he puts on a name from King James, COMES OUT A DIFFERENT PERSON.”

In Becoming Elijah, I make a different distinction, but there is some overlap. The biblical Elijah is a fierce zealot; in his post-biblical career, he becomes a compassionate hero, helping those in need, spreading wisdom, and ultimately making peace in the world.

3) Why is your book called “Becoming Elijah”?

Throughout most of the book, the title Becoming Elijah means: how the biblical Elijah (the fierce zealot) was transformed into the compassionate hero who rescues those in need, the super-rabbi who spreads wisdom and will ultimately bring peace to the world. But at the very end of the book, the reader discovers another meaning of the title: how each of us can cultivate our own “aspect of Elijah” (behinat Eliyyahu), thereby in a sense “becoming Elijah.”

4) Why did you choose the opening quote from Cordovero?

The 16th-century kabbalist Moses Cordovero writes this about Elijah: “His mystery is really the mystery of divinity spreading. Divine energy clothes itself in him, extending to the world. . . Elijah never appears in the world without the mystery of divinity revealing itself through him. The mystery of God on earth is the mystery of Elijah . . . The closest that divinity can possibly come to humanity is the mystery of Elijah.”

I came across this quotation shortly before the book went to press. I chose it as the book’s epigraph because it conveys what Elijah eventually became: the embodiment of the Holy Spirit (ruah ha-qodesh) and a semi-divine figure.

Cordovero’s remarkable statement may strike some readers as more Christian than Jewish, with Elijah functioning as an intermediary between God and humanity. Well, Elijah is unique, and he frequently mediates between heaven and earth. He is a virtuoso of the in-between, communicating heavenly teachings to earth and inspiring the Kabbalists with new insights and revelations. Yes, Cordovero’s formulation is extreme, but already in the Midrash, God Himself affirms His similarity to Elijah:

“The blessed Holy One said, ‘I revive the dead, and Elijah revived the dead…. I bring down rain, and Elijah brought down rain. I stop the rains, and so did Elijah…. I brought down fire and brimstone upon Sodom, and Elijah similarly brought down [fire]…. He lived and will go on living until the revival of the dead.’”

5) How does Elijah evolve over the centuries?

I trace how Elijah evolves over the centuries, how he “becomes” the full-fledged Elijah. In the Bible, he is a fierce zealot, fighting for the one true God and jealous on behalf of YHVH. Already here, there are certainly mythical and legendary elements—and a hint of the mystical, as well. For example, at Mount Sinai, Elijah encounters God not in the loud phenomena of nature (wind, earthquake, fire), but in qol demamah daqqah. In the King James Bible (and ever since), this remarkable phrase is translated as “a still small voice.” But more accurately, it means “a sound of sheer stillness.” From out of stillness—a pregnant, vibrant silence—Elijah hears God’s voice. We can now appreciate this as an indication of the power of meditation: God can be found in stillness and silence.

At the end of his biblical career, suddenly a chariot of fire… appeared… and Elijah went up to heaven in a whirlwind. Was this a spectacular death? Or did he escape death entirely? The answer is not clear, but the Rabbis of the Talmud and Midrash assume that “Elijah lives and endures forever.” These rabbis transform Elijah into a super-rabbi, who appears to certain select rabbis, instructing them. He also miraculously saves worthy people in dire straits.

In medieval Kabbalah, the mystical dimension of Elijah becomes more prominent. He is the source of mystical wisdom who enlightens spiritual seekers, the embodiment of the Holy Spirit. One kabbalist, Hayyim Vital, actually describes how to stimulate “a revelation of Elijah” (gillui Eliyyahu). The various preparations he recommends include normative religious practices and more demanding spiritual ones: turning back to God (teshuvah), intense study of Torah, an ascetic lifestyle (limiting food, drink, and sensual pleasure), seclusion, immersion in a ritual bath (miqveh), meditation on the Divine Name, emptying one’s mind of wordly concerns, and love of God. As Vital concludes, “Through these practices of devotion, Elijah (gratefully remembered) will reveal himself. The greater one’s devotion, the greater [Elijah’s] revelation.”

Later, a Hasidic master teaches how each of us contains “an aspect of Elijah” (behinat Eliyyahu), which can manifest as a mystical insight, a creative urge, an eagerness to uplift others. By cultivating this aspect, or spark, we can, in a sense, “become Elijah.”

6) How is Elijah a shape-shifter?

This is one of the most remarkable things about him. I used to think that the term “shape-shifter” referred mainly to certain superheroes in comic books, but actually it’s a term from the academic study of folklore, referring to mythological characters who adopt different forms. After ascending to heaven, Elijah becomes angelic, but he is capable of assuming various human types. He can appear as an ordinary person or especially an old man, the archetype of wisdom. But often he appears in disguise, adopting whatever personality is appropriate to the situation. In various tales, he impersonates a horseman, an Arab, a Persian, a slave, a royal minister of a gentile ruler, a Roman dignitary. Elijah can mold his angelhood into any identity he needs.

Of his many transfigurations, the most shocking one involves Rabbi Me’ir, a leading sage of the second century. Me’ir had boldly rescued his sister-in-law from a Roman brothel, to which she had been condemned. Consequently, the Roman authorities posted Me’ir’s “wanted” picture on the city gates:

“They went and engraved Rabbi Me’ir’s image at the entrance of Rome and proclaimed, ‘Anyone who sees this face—bring him!’ One day [some Roman officers] saw him and ran after him; he ran away from them. . . . Some say that Elijah appeared to [the pursuing officers] as a prostitute and embraced [Rabbi Me’ir]. [The officers] said, ‘Perish the thought! If this were Rabbi Me’ir, he wouldn’t have done that.’ [Thereby he was saved.]”

To rescue Rabbi Me’ir, Elijah fashions himself into a whore and behaves accordingly. Here, he’s something of a benign trickster, making fools of gentile oppressors; he is champion of the Jews in a risky world.

7) What were your literary principles in deciding the amount of space to give to each use of Elijah in the tradition?

Elijah begins as a biblical hero, so I wanted to devote a good amount of space to the chapters in the book of Kings describing his remarkable life in the Northern Kingdom of Israel in the 9^th century BCE. The next major stage is how the Rabbis of the Talmud and Midrash transform Elijah into a super-rabbi, and this too deserves a lengthy chapter. The mystical quality of Elijah becomes more prominent in the Kabbalah, and I devoted a full, shorter chapter to this phase. The book is in a series called Jewish Lives, but Elijah is also a significant figure in Christianity and Islam, and I devoted a shorter chapter to this feature of his endless career. Most Jews know of Elijah because of his prominent role in several rituals (especially the Passover Seder and circumcision), so this demanded a separate chapter. The final, brief chapter emphasizes the mending or rectification (tiqqun) of Elijah (from zealot to compassionate hero), and thenreveals the hidden meaning of the title: how each of us can, in a sense, “become Elijah.”

The book is a biography, as are all the books in this series (Jewish Lives). But this is not a normal biography, because according to Jewish (and Christian and Islamic) tradition, Elijah never died. I constructed the book to show how Elijah is reimagined again and again. Each generation pours their yearnings into him and draws comfort from him. So the various portrayals of the immortal prophet reveal not only the multi-faceted character of Elijah, but also the mind of the people of Israel through the ages—their needs and ideals.

8) How does Elijah give hope?

Elijah gives hope because since he never died, he is available—ready to help those in need, able to traverse the world, reaching any destination “in four glides.” Furthermore, he will announce and herald the coming of the Messiah. This is foreshadowed in the Bible itself, not in the book of Kings, but in the later book of Malachi, which concludes with God’s promise: Look, I am sending you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the day of YHVH, great and awesome. He will bring fathers’ hearts back to their children and children’s hearts to their fathers.

Unlike Christians, who can pretty easily picture Jesus, it’s difficult for Jews to picture the Messiah. Elijah provides a more readily imaginable figure, which made it easier to Jews to maintain their belief in the ultimate redemption. That’s why in the Grace after Meals, we ask God to send us not the Messiah, but “Elijah the prophet…, who will bring us good tidings of salvation and comfort.”

9)  How is Elijah like Moses?

The Midrash lists about 30 parallels between the two! For example, “Moses redeemed [Israel] from Egypt…, and Elijah will redeem them in the time to come.” Both are called “man of God” (ish ha-Elohim). Moses parted the Red Sea, while Elijah parted the Jordan River toward the end of his biblical career. Both had a zealous quality, though Elijah was more extreme. Both were in a cave (or crevice) on Mount Sinai. Moses spent 40 days and forty nights on Mount Sinai, while Elijah journeyed forty days and forty nights to the same site. Both, in moments of despareration due to the stubbornness of the Israelites, asked God to take their lives. Both ended their earthbound lives in the same vicinity: east of the Jordan River, across from Jericho.

How are they different? First of all, Moses died a natural death, whereas Elijah, it is told, neve died, but rather ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot and ever since has been returning intermittently to earth to help those in need. In this sense, you could say that Elijah surpassed Moses.

In a crucial way, however, Moses outshone Elijah. After the sin of the Golden Calf, he pleaded with God to spare Israel. Elijah, on the other hand, kept accusing Israel, complaining to God, The Israelites have forsaken Your covenant… and I alone remain. Moses was rewarded with divine intimacy, whereas Elijah was relieved of his prophetic duties for failing to defend Israel. According to one early midrash, when God told Elijah to anoint a successor in your place, what God meant was: “I no longer want your prophesying!” Elijah is the only prophet who, roughly speaking, was fired!

10) Do we encounter Elijah today? Why did you not include any stories of later eras or modern encounters with Elijah?

There are many contemporary stories of encounters with Elijah, for example, those assembled by Eliezer Shore in his book Meeting Elijah. These modern accounts are certainly interesting, but they aren’t significantly different than earlier tales and traditions in the Talmud, Midrash, Jewish folklore, Kabbalah, and Hasidism.

We can encounter Elijah in several ways. One is by imagining him—opening the door for him at the Seder, or sensing his presence as the guardian of the covenant at a ritual circumcision. Another is by following the advice of Hayyim Vital, and making some of the preparations he recommends (see above, question 3), which may lead to a mystical experience, a “revelation of Elijah” (gillui Elliyahu). Another is by discovering an aspect of Elijah (behinat Eliyyahu) within ourselves (see above, questions 3 and 5).

What really happens when a person experiences a “revelation of Elijah” (gillui Eliyyahu). Is this an inner experience or a direct encounter with the immortal prophet? According to several kabbalists, the distinction is not that clear. Moses Cordovero writes, “Sometimes Elijah clothes himself in a person’s mind, revealing to him hidden matters. To the person, it seems as if he pondered those things on his own, as if that innovation suddenly entered his mind…; it feels as if he said it himself.”

A famous contemporary of Cordovero’s shares this view. Discussing a Talmudic story in which Rabbi Yehoshua son of Levi meets Elijah, the Maharal (R. Judah Loew) of Prague writes: “It makes no difference whether [Elijah] was revealed to [Rabbi Yehoshua son of Levi] in a vision or whether he was revealed as such, not in a vision. For frequently Elijah would speak words to someone, and that person did not know where they came from. It seemed to him as if those words came from himself―but they were the words of Elijah, speaking to him.”

In other words, the encounter with Elijah can take place deep within. In the words of Abraham Joshua Heschel, it is “an inner experience, a fact in the soul.”

11) You end the book with a Hasidic story and then conclude about our need to become an Elijah of compassion in ourselves. Can you explain?

Over the course of his endless life, Elijah learns to tame his fanaticism, but he never loses his passion. Rather, he channels that passion into mending himself, his people, and the world. We can “become” Elijah by imitating his transformation. By caring for others, we embody his quality.

That Hasidic story conveys this nicely: A pious Jew once asked his rabbi why Elijah never appeared on the night of the seder, even though the door was opened for him and his goblet of wine was waiting on the table. The rabbi told him: “There is a very poor family in your neighborhood. Go visit them and propose that next year you and your family will celebrate Passover with them in their house and that you’ll provide everything they need for the whole holiday. Then on the night of the Seder, Elijah will certainly come.” The man did as he was told, but after the following Passover he returned to the rabbi, complaining that once again Elijah had failed to appear. The rabbi responded, “Elijah came, but you couldn’t see him.” Holding a mirror to the man’s face, he continued, “Look, this was Elijah’s face that night.”

12) Can we compare Elijah to a Bodhisattva. Have you thought more about that comparison?

In Buddhism, a bodhisattva is a person who could enter the ultimate bliss of nirvana but instead decides to remain here in the mundane world in order to help others, both materially and spiritually. Elijah is transported to heaven, but he, too, refrains from basking eternally in celestial bliss and instead makes himself available to human beings here below. He inspires and demands ethical behavior and spiritual progress.

People often contrast Buddhism and Judaism, and there certainly are significant differences. But this parallel enables us to appreciate their shared wisdom. The bodhisattva, refusing to abandon life on earth, remains committed to the here and now. This brings to mind the contrast between Enoch and Elijah. According to the Jewish mystical tradition, Enoch, like Elijah, was transported to heaven, becoming an angel. But these two heroes proceed to act very differently. Enoch never leaves heaven. Why should he? It’s so blissful up there. But Elijah remains committed to people struggling down here on earth. That is his greatness.

13) You seem to have avoided the Jungian approaches entirely such as Aaron Wiener’s book on the prophet Elijah or Jung’s depiction in the Red Book. Why?

Wiener’s book, The Prophet Elijah in the Development of Judaism, was actually very important to me, and I cite him frequently in my extensive endnotes (12 times, to be precise). Already in the Introduction, I paraphrase one of Wiener’s basic claims, that “Elijah follows the path of the archetypal hero: uncertain origins, trials and adventures, transformation, and return into the world.” I proceed, throughout the book, to illustrate Elijah’s heroic journey. What I avoided was Wiener’s repetitive Jungian jargon, which I find tiresome.

14) Do you think you have a spark of Elijah in your soul? Do we all? What does your book mean for contemporary spirituality?

We each have a “spark of Elijah,” which the Hasidic master Nahum of Chernobyl also calls “an aspect of Elijah” (behinat Eliyyahu).

Elijah is important for contemporary spirituality because he isn’t perfect. He is a flawed human, like each of us. To me, the most striking thing about Elijah is how he undergoes a mending or rectification (tiqqun). You could say that certain rabbis of the Talmud and Midrash engineered this tiqqun because they couldn’t bear the harsh, fanatical contours of Elijah’s biblical personality. For them, he was simply too extreme, too remote and exalted, unable to mediate between God and mere humans. They criticize him, but more significantly they refashion him, softening and refining his image.

But from another perspective, Elijah effects his own tiqqun. He becomes immortal because his task has not been completed; he needs to mend his ways. Frequently returning to earth, he harnesses his zeal to help the persecuted and wretched. Instead of castigating the people of Israel, he fervently defends them. His wrath is spent. Now, in helping others, he cultivates kindness; his heart opens, and he discovers how to love.

Centuries after encountering God on Mount Sinai, he finally grasps an implication of the sound of sheer stillness (qol demamah daqqah)that he experienced there: to succeed in transforming others, fierce power is often less effective than patient gentleness.

In the Bible, Elijah saw everything as black-and-white. In his later phase of existence, he realizes that conflicting views can sometimes be equally true. As he declares in the Talmud, “Both these and those are words of the Living God.” He reveals the unity within the contradictions of tradition. Eventually, paving the way for the Messiah, he will “harmonize disputes.” The biblical zealot who slayed his opponents will come “to make peace in the world.”

Having mended himself, Elijah can stimulate others to strive for personal and social tiqqun. Having been flawed, he is familiar with failure. He failed to turn Israel completely and firmly back to God, and consequently, he begged God to take his life. But, having sunk so deeply in despair, over the ages he gradually learns how to lift anyone’s spirit.

Elijah is a model for how we can deal with failure, with negativity, with our negative traits. If we feel rage, we can learn from the immortal prophet how to transmute it into compassion. By quieting our restless mind, we can become attuned to the soothing yet potent sound of sheer stillness.

Here is the third response to my last week’s interview with Rabbi Aryeh Klapper about his new book Divine Will and Human Experience   The first response was by Rabbi Yitzchak Roness- here. The second one here is by Rabbi Ysoscher Katz-here

This one is by Rabbi Johnny Solomon who teaches Halacha and Jewish Thought at Matan and Midreshet Lindenbaum, and he works as #theVirtualRabbi – offering online spiritual coaching, halachic consultations, and Torah study sessions to men, women, and couples around the world.

DIVINE WILL and HUMAN EXPERIENCE:  Review by Rabbi Johnny Solomon

‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ is a soft back book which has been self-published by the Center for Modern Torah Leadership, of which Rabbi Klapper is Dean. On its front cover is an image of a glass pyramid where a black beam of light, labelled as ‘Divine Will’, is refracted into four different light beams labelled ‘Freedom’, ‘Dignity’, ‘Equality’ and ‘Responsibility’.

Perhaps mentioning the style of the front cover of a book appears to literally fall into the trap of judging a book by its cover. The issue, however, is that unlike most books, there is no Preface or Introduction to ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’, and similarly, there are no approbations which oftentimes feature in books relating to Jewish law.

Instead, following the title page and copyright page are four pages detailing the contents of the 39 chapters of ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ (which themselves are divided into six categories: ‘MetaHalakhic Principles’, ‘Equality as a Torah Value’, ‘Halakhic Methods’, ‘Long Covid and Yom Kippur’, ‘Halakhic Illustrations’ and ‘Biblical Portraits’) which is then followed by the 39 articles (spanning approximately 230 pages).

Admittedly, there is a paragraph titled ‘About the Book’ on the back cover of ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ which is seemingly intended to inform its readers about the purpose of this book which, for the sake of considering the goals of ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’, I’d like to quote in full:

Wallace Stevens wrote that poetry is generated by the pressure of reality on imagination. Along the same lines, practical halakhah at its best is generated by the pressure of reality on Torah. ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ illuminates every stage of that process in a wide variety of contexts and genres. You’ll find the halakhot of art and the art of halakhah. You’ll find an authoritative responsum, and a psak that failed; an explanation of how a beit din practice became oppressive, and an explanation of how rabbinic powerlessness enables oppression. This book is for everyone who wants to understand halakhah deeply and share responsibility for the Torah that constructs and governs our personal and communal religious lives.

The problem is that while some of this paragraph is descriptive, some of it poetic, and some of it (specifically the statement that ‘‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ illuminates every stage of that process’) are bombastic, it actually doesn’t tell the reader who this book is for, or whether readers should treat each essay as being exhaustive, or anything about the role that ‘Freedom’, ‘Dignity’, ‘Equality’ and ‘Responsibility’ – which, on the basis of the image on the front cover are the four principles that make up the ‘Divine Will’ – play in halakhah. In fact, it is only by reading the essays in ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ and paying close attention to some brief remarks made by Rabbi Klapper in some of those essays, that the reader gets any sense whatsoever about the nature of this book.

Unlike many books incorporating halakhic essays, the halakhic essays in this book different from most others, in that, on two separate occasions Rabbi Klapper informs his readers that what he is writing is neither comprehensive nor conclusive, while the tone of writing used by Rabbi Klapper clearly points to the fact that he intends that these essays will help foster further discussion.

For example, in Chapter 11, titled ‘When Torah Clashes with our Values’, Rabbi Klapper writes that:

‘this essay is a collection of raw, first-level interpretive observations – they provide ways of thinking through the Torah narrative without (I think) imposing any conclusions… You’re welcome to send me your thoughts about what these interpretations could mean for these issues, or to politely post them (and equally politely critique such posts), and of course to challenge or support them at the level of the text’ (p. 69).

What this suggests is that the essays in ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ are not actually halakhic essays per se. Instead, they are thoughts on points of halakhah which Rabbi Klapper shared or presented at some point to members of his Center for Modern Torah Leadership.

In fact, this point is made even clearer in his remarks in Chapter 12 titled ‘Learning Torah we Disagree With’ where he writes,

‘I’m writing stream-of-consciousness to model the idea that there is value in thinking about challenging interpretations of Torah, and in sharing our understanding of such Torah, even if we won’t necessarily agree, or at least not agree fully, with the hashkafic perspectives that emerge from them’ (p. 74).

What this tells us is that while, as noted on the back cover, Rabbi Klapper is ‘a posek, lamdan, and though-leader’, the reader of ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ doesn’t encounter Rabbi Klapper-as-posek in the sense that his role isn’t to present fully reasoned halakhic thoughts and rulings. Instead, they encounter Rabbi Klapper-as-mentor-and-teacher to budding Torah scholars whom he has taken under his wing and whom he feels a responsibility to teach them about the importance of ‘Taking Responsibility for Torah’ (which, as he writes in Chapter 13 in his essay titled ‘Purely Theoretical Halakhah’, is ‘the motto of the Center for Modern Torah Leadership’, which ‘was formulated to oppose the claim that halakhah can be discussed in the beit midrash without considering real-world consequences’ (p. 83)).

Having said all of the above, I would now like to more closely examine some of Rabbi Klappers’ insights by reflecting on four of his essays:

a. ‘Chazakot and Changing Realities’

Even a quick glance at ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ leads the reader to the conclusion that Rabbi Klapper enjoys offering insights about the development of halakhah. As he writes at the beginning of Chapter 2, titled ‘Chazakot and Changing Realities’:

Practical Halakhah exists in constant dialogue with the world around it. Competent poskim know and respond to the social, political, and economic realities of their communities. In turn, halakhah shapes those realities in important ways. Consider for example the effect of capitalism on the halakhot of ribit (usury), and the effect of halakhah on the price of ungrafted citrons’ (p. 14).

Having provided readers with this background, Rabbi Klapper addresses the chazakah attributed to Rav Hamnuna (as mentioned in Gittin 89b – although for some reason Rabbi Klapper does not provide this basic Talmudic reference), as codified in the Shulchan Aruch (Even HaEzer 17:2), that ‘a woman is believed if she claims to be divorced while in her presumptive husband’s presence’, because, “a woman is not brazen in the presence of her husband”.

Yet the Rema rules ‘that because of societal changes, this chazokoh (sic) no longer generates the credibility necessary to allow remarriage’, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein (Igrot Moshe EH 1:49) ignores, and as Rabbi Klapper adds, ‘I suggest deliberately’, the question of ‘whether changes specific to his own time and place have weakened the latter chazokoh’ (p. 15). He writes in his concluding remarks to this chapter:

while chazokoh’s are influenced by social changes, there is no straight line from a change in circumstances to a change in law. The legal presumptions that Chazal created via chazakot resulted from an interplay between their evaluation of reality and their sense of what halakhic outcomes were necessary or desirable. A competent posek must consider how changed circumstance affect the reality underlying the chazokoh and also whether allowing those changes to affect the chazokoh would yield undesirable halakhic outcomes’ (p. 17).

What Rabbi Klapper does here is reveal some of the considerations that inform and inspire poskim to reach various halakhic decisions, which is particularly valuable given that these considerations are rarely made explicit by poskim.

b. ‘Changing Realities and New Rabbinic Legislation’

In Chapter 3, Rabbi Klapper contrasts the approaches of Rabbi Ovadia Yosef (Yabia Omer 1:16) and Rabbi Moshe Feinstein (Igrot Moshe OC 4:50) regarding the question of whether new decrees may be established in the modern period, with his argument being that while ‘discussions of halakhic innovation often revolve around an asserted need for new leniencies.. it stands to reason that changed circumstances will require just as many new stringencies’ (p. 19). However, as he continues, ‘if today’s halakhists are judged incompetent to issue new stringencies, they are unlikely to succeed in implementing new leniencies’ (ibid.). Given this, Rabbi Klapper notes that, ‘generating the authority to permit may require granting the authority to forbid’ (p. 24) and that, ‘my hope is that this essay opens space for serious discussion of the extent to which we wish to grant that authority’ (ibid.).

Here, Rabbi Klapper gives voice to a rarely addressed consideration in halakhic decision-making – although not one that is shared by all poskim. The question, however, is to what extent is his thesis about the need to issue new stringencies correct? While I’ll not answer that question directly, I believe that any answer demands significantly more research and consideration than reference to a singular responsum of Rabbi Feinstein (putting aside the fact that the subject of this specific responsum has been challenged by various halakhic authorities). Given this, I humbly suggest that the brevity of this and some similar essays in ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ are insufficient for Rabbi Klapper’s students to truly have a ‘serious discussion’ on this topic.

c. ‘Defining Dying’

Chapter 25 opens with the same reference to Wallace Stevens as appears on the back cover of ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ (see above), while Rabbi Klapper then continues to state that, ‘the practice of halakhah inevitably changes when reality does. But the ‘way’ in which it changes is often badly misunderstood’ (p. 155).

This statement is, to my mind, a powerful insight into what Rabbi Klapper primarily seeks to address in his book: not the ‘what’ of halakhic change, or necessarily the ‘why’ for halakhic change, but in fact the ‘way’ in which halakhah changes.

In terms of his treatment of Dying, Rabbi Klapper considers his teacher – Rabbi J. David Bleich’s –  contention (see Tradition 30:3) that ‘any patient who may reasonably be deemed capable of potential survival for a period of seventy two hours cannot be considered a ‘goses’’ (p. 155).

As Rabbi Klapper then notes, under this definition, ‘many conditions categorized as ‘goses’ in past centuries would not be ‘goses’ nowadays, for example because mechanical ventilation might extend their lives. So the practical halakhah of ‘goses’ might change in response to technological change’ (ibid.).

As he concludes the chapter, ‘we might for instance argue that medical progress has created a new class of people regarding whom it is ethical not to provide life-extending treatment, even though they do not fit the category of ‘goses’’ (p. 160). Yet, whatever the case, while it may be ‘tempting to assume that poskim who reach results we dislike on issues of technological change must be ignoring the science or distorting the sources. The truth is that sometimes they are expressing very in-the-moment moral opinions that disagree with ours’ (ibid.).

d. ‘A Tale of Two Cities’

The final section of ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ deals with what Rabbi Klapper calls ‘Biblical Portraits’, and in Chapter 38 he examines the plea that Rachav makes to the spies that they spare the lives of her family (see Yehoshua Ch. 2).

One might wonder how this story aligns with Rabbi Klapper’s overall interest in halakhah. However, what Rabbi Klapper seeks to argue here is that moral examinations must precede halakhic decision-making.

He does this by opening this chapter with a quote from Rabbi Norman Lamm that ‘Halakhah is a floor, not a ceiling’ (p. 226), and by then asking a series of questions: ‘Can human decisions lower halakhic floors, and raise spiritual ceilings? How should we evaluate decisions that do both simultaneously? Can our commitments affect other people’s spiritual range?’ (pp. 226-227).

And then, through considering the approach of a number of commentaries on the Rachav story including Ralbag who draws a parallel between this event and Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai’s petition to Vespasian (see Gittin 56a – although here too Rabbi Klapper does not provide this basic Talmudic reference notwithstanding the fact that he prompts the reader in the header introducing his essay to ‘Think of Rachav facing the spies as parallel to Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai facing Vespasian’), Rabbi Klapper reaches a conclusion that:

‘The spies’ oath raised the halakhic floor to the level of the moral floor. But it seems likely that Rachav’s demand did not raise the moral floor – she merely enabled the spies to correctly perceive its level. They were halakhically obligated once they took the oath, but they were morally obligated to take the oath. In fact, they were obligated to take the oath even before (Rachav – nb. this is missing from the original text) made any demand, because without such an oath, halakhah was setting its ceiling below the moral floor’ (p. 230).

Having considered four different chapters in ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’, I would like to address just three further issues. One relates to the way Rabbi Klapper explains certain ideas, one relates to the role of Rabbanit Deborah Klapper in this book, and one relates to notable absences in ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’.

i. Clarity of explanations

As previously mentioned, Rabbi Klapper’s ‘role’ in ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ is that of a mentor and teacher, and his skill in explaining ideas in a fun and creative way is evident throughout the book. For example, he summarizes Yoma 85b as stating, ‘one should chai by them and not die by them’ (p. 94).

Less playful but certainly very helpful for a budding Torah scholar is where he explains the meaning and significance of certain halakhic terms. For example, he writes that ‘vadai is a legal term of art; it means that the exceptions are rare enough that the law does not need to account for them’ (p. 158).

At the same time, there are times when Rabbi Klapper chooses to be so expressive as to lose most readers, such as when he writes that, ‘the hypotheticality position is a Masoretic epiphenomenon’ (p. 83).

ii. Deborah Klapper

Oftentimes, authors reference their family, or spouse, or children, in the ‘Acknowledgements’ section of a book. Yet while no such section exists in ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’, the reader is treated to something altogether different – namely a number of insights of Deborah Klapper which Rabbi Klapper then includes in his book.

For example, towards the end of Chapter 5, titled ‘Halakhah and Reality Don’t Always Have to Agree’ which discusses the role of probability in halakhah, the reader is informed that, ‘Deborah Klapper suggests… [that] not everything is probabilistic; sometimes reality just is. If halakhah and reality always corresponded in probabilistic cases, we might mistakenly conclude that they always corresponded, period, and refuse to correct even the most egregious halakhic errors of fact’ (p. 35).

Additionally, in Chapter 21 titled ‘The Private History of a Psak that Failed’, where Rabbi Klapper expressed concern about the choice to rely on certain halakhic leniencies such as Megillah livestreaming during the ‘second COVID Purim’, the reader is informed that, ‘Deborah Klapper challenged my assumptions in two ways. First, she argued that my critique of our lack of preparation was overblown… Second, she thought that because many community rabbis had issued psakim, in reliance of major poskim, telling people that they could rely on the livestream this year, it would be wrong and irresponsible for me to make people feel uncomfortable doing so (p. 131)’. Interestingly, Rabbi Klapper nevertheless began writing a responsum suggesting that listeners of a livestream video combine this with a livestream dictation – which was subsequently challenged by Rabbanit Klapper. As he wrote, ‘That should probably have been enough to stop me. However, Deborah only got involved after I had already written several drafts of an essay arguing for this proposal’ (p. 132).

Personally, I would love to see a responsa volume reflecting the blend of idealism and pragmatism that are evident from the exchanges between Rabbi and Rabbanit Klapper. Beyond this, perhaps Rabbi Klapper could have further emphasized the role that a spouse, or peer, can play as a sounding board and as a learning partner in the development of a psak.

iii. Noted Absences

Lastly, while Rabbi Klapper is clearly fascinated by halakhic development and especially by the way in which halakhah responds to real-world issues, I did find it particularly unusual that while he often quotes certain modern responsa authors (eg. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef), there are a number of significant poskim who have made major contributions to these areas (eg. Rabbi Hayyim David Halevy, Rabbi Nachum Rabinovitch, Dayan Shlomo Deichovsky, Rabbi Yisrael Rozen) whom he doesn’t quote. As the Center for Modern Torah Leadership ‘was formulated to oppose the claim that halakhah can be discussed in the beit midrash without considering real-world consequences’ (p. 83), I would have imagined that a greater number of contemporary halakhists who wrestle with these kinds of issues would have been mentioned.

Conclusion

Rabbi Klapper has a penchant to philosophize about what is halakhah, and in many instances, his observations are incredibly incisive. At the same time, there were moments when I would have preferred the halakhic texts that he quoted to speak for themselves.

As mentioned, the omission of any Preface or Introduction made it considerably harder for me to understand what this book is and who it is for. Moreover, for those who are not participants of the Center for Modern Torah Leadership, it is not entirely clear where to go next with the discussions that naturally spring from each of the chapters in this book (nb. unfortunately, Rabbi Klapper doesn’t even include his email address in ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ for readers to offer their thoughts – which I think is a missed opportunity).

Does ‘Divine Will and Human Experience’ ‘illuminate every stage’ of how ‘practical halakhah.. is generated by the pressure of reality on Torah’? No. Still, it is most certainly a stimulating read that touches on a wide range of issues relating to the intersection of halakhah and reality which many will find to be incredibly valuable especially when thinking about the ‘way’ in which halakhah changes.

Rabbi Aryeh Klapper discussed his new book Divine Will and Human Experience here in last week’s interview last week. There will be several responses -here is the first of the several responses.

Rabbi Dr. Yitzchak Avi Roness is a lecturer in various colleges [Michlala, Orot, Givat Washington] and a communal Rav in Beit Shemesh.  His Phd is on the halakhic method of Rabbi Shaul Yisraeli and he writes on contemporary issues such as family planning

Review and Response to Rabbi Aryeh Klapper – Rabbi Dr. Yitzchak Avi Roness

Rabbi Klapper’s book of explorations Divine Will and Human Experience touches upon a wide range of diverse topics from the specific to the conceptual. At times he explores the Halakhic minutiae surrounding specific narrow questions, while other explorations are dedicated to explicating some of the overarching metahalakhic questions regarding the underpinnings of Halakhic Discourse.

Thus, one essay takes the reader on an interesting ‘behind the scenes’ tour of R. Klapper’s own educational, and communal, considerations and motivations which led him to reject the accepted halakhic view regarding ‘Megillah Livestream reading’, and how he set out to establish a viable competing Halakhic alternative.

And in the interview R. Klapper explains that his unusually lengthy discussion of the Halakhic attitude towards Long Covid, stemmed from his seeing this as an opportunity “to model in real time the values of transparency, respect for autonomy, and textual/legal integrity” within Halakhic discourse.

R. Klapper’s fully candid, and wholly transparent, relationship with his readers is most apparent in his open admission of ultimately having failed. The author self-describes this attempt as a failed P’sak. He even gives a detailed description of how and why the author would choose to present his readers with a chronicle depicting the details of this type of a ‘failed’ endeavor.

Turning to the broader metahalakhic questions, I found a special interest in the attempt to clearly articulate the exact dynamic by which a Posek finds his way amongst the confusing maze of Halakhic opinions. Seeing as there are a multitude of Halakhic opinions, and various Halakhic precedents’ to draw upon, a veritable Seventy Face to Torah (Shiv’im Panim Latorah), how does any given Posek navigate his way around? Why is it that two contemporary Halakhic authorities presented with the same problem rule so differently from one another?

Two Types of Halakhic Decisors

Rabbi Klapper speaks of “two kinds of halakhic decisors” (See Divine Will and Human Experience, p. 63). He distinguishes between Poskim who rely heavily on procedural rules, as opposed to those whose decisions are animated by their attempt to weigh the respective merit of each opinion in order to arrive at the ‘correct’ Halakhic answer, based on their own subjective evaluation of the Halakhic possibilities.

Klapper proceeds to analyze the matter further, by distinguishing between different types of ‘merit’ which a Posek may prioritize in deciding upon the correct, or best, answer in any given case: Some Poskim may choose the opinion which they feel manages best to integrate the various Halakhic details into one unified, and coherent, conceptual structure, while others may evaluate the merit of any specific Halakhic opinion primarily as a function of its perceived fealty to Halakhic precedent. This Posek will attribute the most importance, and give added weight, to the Halakhic avenue which fits in best with accepted Minhag, or communal practice.

R. Klapper is well aware that these options do not even begin to exhaust all of the theoretical possibilities by which a posek will weigh, and ‘grade’, competing Halakhic pathways. Perhaps, R. Klapper proceeds to suggest, the chosen Halakhic outcome will be determined by an innate, almost intuitive, sense of propriety. In other words, the P’sak may be influenced primarily by the Posek’s asking himself which of the various opinions makes ‘more sense’ than any other? Which of the options simply ‘feels right’?  

R. Klapper’s discussion of images fits nicely into this schema. He describes a specific case where we find communal adoption of the Halakhic opinion which dovetails most closely with the community’s set of values: “Most of us live in Jewish cultures… (where) even non-philosophers instinctively agree that neither G-d nor angels look like anything in particular… “. “We also live in Jewish cultures that instinctively accept virtually every halakhic leniency regarding the production of images… It seems clear to me that these realities go hand-in-hand…” Our not considering angels as images dovetails with our leniency regarding the production of images. [page 128].At this point in his essay, Rabbi Klapper moves on to describe additional differences between Poskim.

Halakhic Intuition

As a reader I was left hoping that he would have paused a little longer to ponder this last point. I would have enjoyed if he would have allowed himself to try and untangle, and unpack further, this last claim:

What exactly constitutes, contributes to this intuitive feeling? What stands behind the subjective feeling that a given Halakhic position is more authentically true than any other?

When can we determine that it is the Posek’s subjective moral worldview that is at play? and when can we justifiably claim that some ideological tendency, or another, lead him to intuitively adopt one Halakhic path from amongst the various options laid out before him?

In any event, R. Klapper does not let himself get mired in endless theoretical philosophizing.

He quickly returns to reality and points out that no typological description can truly be seen as a full description of the practical approach adopted by a flesh-and-blood Halakhist.

A real life Posek will move back and forth between various pathways of decision making:

“Actual decisors”, he writes, “like actual human beings, are generally hybrids rather than ideal types”. To this he adds another insightful caveat: “Even decisors with generally strong and self-aware methodological commitments, may override them roughshod when dealing with issues that activate them ideologically”.

Halakhah, Ethics, and the Broader Community  

One of the additional metahalakhic questions dealt with in the interview is the relationship between Halakha and ethics, and more pointedly, situations in which Halakha stands in opposition to a person’s ethical intuitions. R. Klapper’s reply is nuanced. On the one hand, he celebrates the declaration that “Halakhah should be heavily influenced by ethics”, and believes that “students have the responsibility to challenge their teachers… especially when they are taught Torah that conflicts with their deepest intuitions about what G-d wants”.

On the other hand, R. Klapper openly acknowledges the teacher’s own limitations as a result of their membership in the broader community of Halakhically obligated individuals.

Just “as in every political system, one can be ethically bound to respect the outcome of a communal decision process even when one finds that outcome to be substantively unethical”.

This association with Halakhists of a different moral and political ilk leads to the conclusion that rulings issued by communally accepted Halakhic authorities may reflect ‘narrow perspectives’, ‘mechanical’ or even ‘magical’ thinking, and may express ethically problematic views. Nonetheless, such decision are binding for the simple reason that they were ‘made by people to whom the halakhic community gives authority’.

Thus, the harsh reality is that the teacher himself does not have the power to solve ethical conundrums. The Teachers too, no less than their students, inhabit a position of ‘uncertainty and discomfort in the context of unwavering commitment’, as they too find themselves to be “bound by halakhic outcomes that they consider unethical”.

I would add the following observation: A Rabbinic authority who sees himself as part of a community is constrained not only insofar as he must reject his own conclusions when they are contradicted by those made by ‘accepted authorities’. The actual constraint runs far deeper than that. Such an individual is held back in the degree to which he can allow himself to stray from the accepted view, in order to even propose, if only provisionally, a differing opinion, without fearing that this itself will lead to his being labeled as one who has strayed afield and broken away from the fold.

Who has authority? How do Rabbis relate to Gedolim & Chief Rabbis?

Who is the community and who are the accepted authorities invested with authority?

The current ‘working model’ grants Halakhists broad authority as a result of general acclaim and regard. However, this system tilts the scales rather heavily in the direction of certain types of individuals. Sadly, it seems that the current model highly favors those who espouse ‘narrow perspectives’, ‘mechanical’ or even ‘magical’ thinking…

The willingness on the part of individuals like R. Klapper who pay a heavy price in the sense of self-censorship in order to remain a part of the broader Orthodox community, can only exist if there is a sense of reciprocity in the guise of a minimal amount of recognition afforded by this same community.

Writing from the standpoint of an American born, yet Israeli bred communal rabbi, my thoughts naturally turn to the realities of the Israeli scene, the world that I am most intimately aware of its contours.

For many years the Religious Zionist Rabbinate gladly accepted the overarching authority of the Israeli Chief Rabbinate. And yet, something has changed. Over the past ten years or so a number of different independent organizations have sprung up, Whether it is in regard to matters of Kashrut Supervision, private Conversion Batei Din, and even independent Kiddushin more on the fringes.

The reason for this change is easy to discern: For over seventy years the Chief Rabbinate was led by Rabbinic figures who openly identified as Religious Zionist. Currently, neither one of the two acting chief rabbis is seen as such then there is an unbridgeable gap between the Rabbinate and Religious Zionist rabbinic figures.

This reality certainly has evolved over time, and yet the case may be made that the present chief Rabbis are more distant from the traditional image embodied by figures of former chief rabbis such as Rabbis Kook,, Herzog and Nissim.

But perhaps more importantly, I believe that the shift may be traced back to the way R. David Stav was treated when he ran as a candidate for this position some eight years ago:

R. Stav who was seen as a leading Religious Zionist rabbi, of the more liberal and open minded bent, was roundly derided by leading Rabbinic authorities of the day such as R. Ovadia Yosef as well as many others.

I believe that this was a watershed moment for many in the Religious Zionist rabbinic mainstream: Simply put: If you are unwilling to even accept my candidate as someone worthy of even participating in the process, than I’m sorry, but I’m opting out… I no longer feel bound by your accepted Halakhic authorities [i.e. the Chief Rabbinate]. From that point onwards many felt free to set out on their own path and try to influence Halakha in the way they saw appropriate, unfettered by the bonds which had previously held them back.

Rabbi Klapper & Authority  

This leads me back to think of R. Klapper himself, and to wonder what would happen if he were to reach a similar conclusion: If he were to decide to ‘throw off’ some of the social restraints currently holding him in check, and set out on his own path of paskening practical Halakha in an unrestrained manner, what novel Halakhic positions would he then espouse?

On a practical level I wonder what could possibly trigger such a move on his part: Would a personal affront in the guise of a Cherem lead him to decide that ‘enough is enough’?

What about the possible realization that community-wide accepted Halakhic authorities are deciding fundamentally important Halakhic questions with complete disregard to the principles of freedom equality and dignity which he values so dearly: Would this ‘do the trick’?

I suggest that I would not find this possibility to be overly objectionable, the reason is simple:

Although our community is well served by a modicum of social conformity on part of its rabbinic leaders, at the same time this constant need to compromise with their inner sense of truth comes at a high price.

When a Halakhic scholar on R. Klapper’s level constantly holds himself back, the entire world ends up losing out on words of Torah we might never hear…

As R. Kook describes in his classic work Orot how social divisions and separations may inadvertently be seen as a source of blessing. If this social process ultimately provides each independent group with the spiritual environment needed to properly develop their respective positions in full, then in the sum total we are all better off. (Orot Yisrael, 4:6)

R. Kook explains that the greater abundance of ‘Lights’, and perspectives involved in the translation of the Divine Good into practical life, ultimately serves to elevate the entire world.

To conclude, I would like to thank R. Klapper for his current explorations and bless us all so that we merit to enjoy many more explorations in the future!

What is the Hindu view of God from a Jewish perspective? Social media is filled with those who speak with minimum knowledge of modern Hinduism. They might have once read a survey book on world religions that described the Vedic religion of ancient India 3000BCE and 200BCE and considered that minuscule amount of information about an ancient civilization as enough to address a modern religion.  And they certainly do not consider how much that textbook reflects Protestant or Orientalist perspectives that make ritual less Protestantism as the pinnacle of religion.

I will state clearly and unambiguously that modern Hinduism from a Jewish perspective has a concept of One single God and has since approached this position since the Upanishads were written ~200BCE. In the Mahabharata Narayana is the highest personal God, is the Supreme Being. All the deities are said to have been created by Him and all other deities are, therefore, parts (angas) of that one great Being. Another verse of the Mahabharata offers the same explanation of Lord Vishnu. Thus it states: “Vishnu is the unique and unparalleled Deity; He is the Supreme Being (mahabhuta); He pervades all the three worlds and controls them but He Himself is untouched by their defects. “Their medieval scholastic thinkers refined the notion to One God with philosophic rigor. And modern movements have further presented the notion of One God in contemporary terms.

So the TL:DR of this post is that Jews should recognize that the Hindu religion is about one God.

This issue should have been settled years ago. Twenty-seven years ago, Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz wrote

Under the Noahide laws, it is possible to assume that Hinduism and Buddhism are sufficiently monotheistic in principle for moral Hindus and Buddhists to enter the gentiles’ gate in heaven. Jewish law regards the compromises made or tolerated by the world’s great religions as ways of rendering essentially monotheistic theologies easier in practice for large populations of adherents.

A similar conclusion was reached whenever Jews encountered modern Hinduism. Rabbi Menashe ben Israel, Moses Mendelssohn, Chief Rabbi JH Hertz, and others have all written similar sentiments.  But the idea that Hindu conceptions of God are not AZ does not take hold even with repeated exposure and 40K Israelis traveling to India each year.

This post works with the assumptions of Rabbi Herzog about Christianity in which contemporary Christians are not AZ, it is just extending his reasoning to Hinduism. If you do not accept this, then this post is not for you. It also assumes that Jews cannot use images, statues, murti, stars, planets, or trees even if intended to serve one God. The golden calves of Jeroboam were monotheistic but still AZ.

In my book on a Jewish -Hindu encounter, I minimized direct normative statements. I was specifically waiting for Rabbi Prof Daniel Sperber to publish his book on Hinduism and AZ, which he finished in 2012. I have a draft copy of his manuscript. But at this point, it does not seem to be coming out even with years of direct prodding.

Therefore, I was going to start working on a full statement. However, this past week there was a wonderful four-day academic conference broadcast n Zoom on God in Vaishnavism, which is the main Hindu denomination of more than half of Indian Hindus. Vaishnavism is the version with many manifestations of God in different forms and with thousands, if not millions, of gods to worship. This contrasts with second-largest denomination Shaivism with its singular focus on a unique high God. Vaishnavism is known for its devotionalism, its arts, and its temple rituals. In later posts, I will deal as needed with Shaivism, Smartism, Yoga, Tantra and Advaita Vedanta. Here I limit myself to Vaishnavism.

This four-day conference was so rich in analysis that it led me to this blog post to jump-start my larger statement. My writing allows me to turn observations into prose before I forget. In addition, it allows me to post it in sections and receive feedback. Nothing in this post is final and I will return and edit the page as I gain more feedback.

The important thing is that all the speakers and listeners assumed that Vaishnavism has a single supreme being that can be translated as God. The main question is how to relate the monotheistic and theistic formulations to the monistic formulation. But notice how the various answers fall into a range of God formulations, rather than questioning the premise that Vaishnava worship one God. 40 years ago, world religion textbooks presented a dichotomy, in which, Protestant Christianity had a transcendent theist God and Hinduism as a panentheism God. Today, the mystical and panentheistic is celebrated in Western religions- think of Hasidism, Neo-Hasidism, and Kabbalah. We see the personal and transcendent aspects of God in Hinduism and see the panentheistic in Judaism.

I write this post as a scholar of Jewish studies without any claim to philological or scholarly claims to knowledge of Sanskrit, Tamil, Hindi, or Malayalam.  I will base this post on what I took from the lectures for my purposes. It will not summarize everything said at the conference or the content of any given paper. It is just my picking out various points useful to me. I may have missed many historic and philosophical subtleties. But it still proves my point.

Here are eight forms of Vaishnavism from the conference and one from my book.

(1) The Tamil devotional poets the Alvars, of the 5^th to the 10^th century have one single God Vishnu as a personal God with qualities and attributes. But at the same time, they say he has 1000 forms, which are all ultimately Vishnu. They are, according to the presenter monotheistic but use many forms to worship God. These forms are not just an expression of the Oneness behind them but have value unto themselves. The worshipper creates or craves these forms. The specifics of the forms are the means to serve the One monotheistic God. This is similar to the way Rabbi Nachum Rabinowitz ZL saw Christianity, in that Christians do not think a cross, crucifix, or icon is a separate deity, rather they are thinking of one God.

(2) The Madhvacharya or Madhva was based on the 13th-century interpretation of the Vedanta into a dualistic interpretation of a chasm between the only true reality, the infinite God, and the human. This approach is still followed in India and in my own 21st century NJ. God is the one true ruler of the universe external from the subordinate material world of humans and matter. All names of the divine point to the one God. As in Kabbalah, every word, breath, and speech points to God. In addition, God is the immanent essence in all things. A person can call God any name since it all points to the infinite God..  God is the creator God in taking pre-existing microforms to create macro forms. The millions of devas are not God or gods but spiritual beings who are not God. The principle of each and every good quality in the world is God. (God is pure love, pure justice, pure compassion)

(3) The God in Puṣṭimārga is a God of giving grace. This approach founded by Vallabhacharya (1479–1531 CE), also known as Vallabha is a devotion path directed towards  Kṛṣṇa’s early life and ‘divine play’ (līlā) among the gopīs in Vṛndāvana. Everything is grounded on the grace (puṣṭi) of Kṛṣṇa, as is eventual liberation. The Lord is accessible only through His own grace. God is visualized via descriptions in texts.  The Lord cannot be attained by a given formula or ritual done by humans. He is attainable only if He wants to be attained. (Think of George Harrisons’ song My Sweet Lord where he appeals to a personal God to show )

This approach is more panentheistic and less Biblical theism because god is everywhere and manifests everywhere and everything can be used to serve God. This approach combines God as celestial, God as monotheistic Lord, and Divine as the spark in all things. The higher primordial aspect of the divine, Brahman is the monistic source and cause of all that is in the Universe, Everything is imbibed with the spirit of the Lord and as the Lord is eternally perfect, everything is perfect just the way it is.

(4) In the Bhagavad Gita, the classic analysis is that it contains two views of God. As a transcendent Lord, infinite God over all  and also God as immanent in the cosmos. A tension between immanence and transcendence and a tension within the immanence of God pervaded by God or cosmos identified with God.

(5) In the Pancaratra  texts, there is an emanation from an unknown divine to supernal manifestations to manifestations in this world. In one example, Jayakhya Samhita God is Lord as a person. He is also the cause of the cosmos. He is also revealed in hierarchical decent forms as avatars.

(6) The presenter on the Bhagavata Purana discussed the tension between the theist God and the non-dualism in the book.  But most of all, he stressed the need for God to become manifest in which the hidden truth reveals itself in beauty. God must be beautiful and God must be a form. Therefore, one creates one’s personal image of God in one’s mind. Statutes and images are the mind’s form of God.

As a side point, it came up that Vaishnava rarely cite the Rig Veda, the text of ancient India (written 1500-1000BCE), which is the most taught in Western textbooks.

(7) The Nimbarka Sampradaya , is the text of one of the four major Vaiṣṇava subdivisions, which was founded by Nimbarka in the 12^th-13^th centuries. It is a dualistic non-dualism-  humans are both different and non-different from Isvara, God or Supreme Being. Specifically, this Sampradaya is a part of Krishnaism—Krishna-centric traditions.

This was a popular break away from the more Orthodox rule-centered Mimamsa approach to Hinduism. Here, meditation on self without symbols of God can reach liberation Under Mimamsa – only some can study Vedanta, for example, women are excluded. Here it is open to all.

It this approach Brahman as – non-creator, without beginning or end. But Krsna is identified with Brahman. Brahma is theistic but can also not be non-theistic because people have different tastes in spiritual life  Worshiping without symbols is non-theistic, with symbols is theistic.  It is only by surrender to Radha-Krishna (not through one’s own efforts) could they attain the grace necessary for liberation from rebirth; then, at death, the physical body would drop away. Thus Nimbarka stressed bhakti yoga, the yoga of devotion, self-surrender, and faith. 

(8) The Concept of God in the Caitanya Vaiṣṇava Tradition is more complex than the others presented.  This tradition is the tradition of devotional attachment to Krsna, most associate this approach with one of its offshoots Iskcon. For them, God is polyvalent as three perspectives-Brahman, paramatma and bhagwan, they are attributes on some level. Brahman is the transcendent, paamatma is God in action who converts potential to actual, the transcendent acts in the world via paramatra. And Bhagwan is the local personal deity. These three aspects of God can contradict each other in action.

As an aside in the conference, someone brought up the use of images to worship God. One person said they were only a reminder, a symbol to serve as a reminder of God, another person said they have an actual spark of God, another person said that the entire infinity of the Lord is in the image, and the fourth answer was that everything points to the Lord but under different names, in a way similar to Frege’s explanation of the morning and evening star as bother referring o Venus

(9) From my book- Swaminarayan Hinduism, also known as the Swaminarayan or BAPS sect, is a modern Vaishnava spiritual tradition, worships a form of Supreme deity Para-brahman. For many Americans, this is the Hinduism that they will encounter in a visit to their new marble Temples. Even among rabbis, this becomes one of the reference points. In 2007, the Chief Rabbi of Israel visited the vast temple complex of the Akshardem Temple in New Delhi, which, unlike traditional temples, this temple has a museum on the history of the movement, a theater showing movies about Hinduism, and even a Disney- style boat ride through Hindu themes., It also has a large restaurant and a park for the family.

In BAPS, most deities are accepted but they are not given statues rather they are included among the hundreds of gods and devas carved into the decorations of the building and its pillars. Even home worship (puja), central to Hindu life, has been reworked for decorum. They perform it as a visualization of offering rather than an actual offering of fruit and flowers. The traditional offering of flowers and foods is only in one’s mind.

Modern Monotheism

These modern temples are as monotheistic as other Americans are. Yet, those who belong to these modern temples are told in the press by non-Hindus that they are polytheists and their children are told in school textbooks that they are polytheists. The vast historical phenomena of Hinduism has many conceptions of God from theist, monist, panentheist, polytheist, henotheist, and others. However, they do not want Westerners deciding for them what they believe and how to label it.

The correct term for the monotheism of these groups in Hindu terms is Para Brahman (Supreme Being) or Suayam Bhagwan (Lord Himself), but if they translate it as monotheism, it is not for the outsider to reject it. Para Brahman is the Highest Brahman; that is beyond all descriptions and conceptualizations. “He is the prime eternal among all eternals. He is the supreme living entity of all living entities, and He alone is maintaining all life.” (Katha Upanishad 2.2.13.). In the Bhagavad Gita, the Suayam Bhagwan (Lord Himself) intones: “There is no truth superior to Me. Everything rests upon Me, as pearls are strung on a thread” (Bhagavad Gita 7.7)

Yet, often Westerners reject these self-understandings as apologetic, cliché, and only said for show. Westerners, including Jews who have visited India, are willing to declare as definitive that any elementary school Jewish child knows that Hinduism presents the same Biblical idols.

Many Hindus that I met assumed that Judaism is still the ancient book of Leviticus and commented that they thought our synagogues without sacrificial altars are not true Judaism. If you heard this, you would want to correct them. So too here. My advice is to talk to Hindus themselves and trust their own explanations.

Is the Lurianic concept of God’s contraction (tzimzum) a metaphor or to be taken literally? The thinker who formulated the approach that treats it as a metaphor and that the divine still fills all space was Rabbi Joseph Ergas (1685–1730), an Italian rabbi, kabbalist, and halakhist. Ergas wrote a short 57 double-sided page book called Shomer Emunim which is a basic defense and introduction to Lurianic Kabbalah.

Avinoam Fraenkel did the English-speaking world a service by translating the work in a new volume, which spun the original 100 pages, as flax into thread, into an 1100-page work. The volume has two parts, a translation with introduction and footnotes, and an original exposition of Lurianic by Fraenkel. If you have never read Shomer Emunin then buy it and read it. The book Shomer Emunim (Urim 2021) Amazon.

Fraenkel is a veteran hi-tech professional working as a product manager for business management software solutions. He also has Rabbinical ordination from Rabbi Zalman Nechemia Goldberg and Rabbi Chaim Perlmutter. He translated Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin’s Nefesh Hahayim which we highlighted with an interview when it came out.

Joseph ben Emanuel Ergas studied halakhah under Samuel of Fez  and Kabbalah under Benjamin Ha-Kohen Vitale of Reggio. (Vitale also taught Rabbi Isaiah Bassan who became Ramchal’s teacher) Ergas briefly taught in his yeshiva in Pisa, however, he spent most of his career as rabbi in Livorno.  

Italian Jewish culture shifted from the rationalism and skepticism of Quattrocento and 16^th century to a 17^th century kabbalistic infused worldview. Ergas’ writings reflect the intellectual currents of this era. His Kabbalistic writings have three motivations.

First, there were still many defenders of the rationalist tradition. Rabbi Leon Modena criticized Kabbalah to which there were many responses. Just between 1727 and 1736, Benjamin Kohen Vitale, Joseph Ergas, and Aviad Sar Shalom Basilea all published semipolemical treatises on the supremacy of Kabbalah.

Second, the Sabbatian Kabbalist Nehemiah Hiyya Hayyun (ca. 1650 – ca. 1730) is his work Oz LeElokhim was using Lurianic Kabbalah for Sabbatian theology. Ergas became famous for his anti Hayyun pamphlet Tokhaḥat Megullah as well as a sequel Ha-Ẓad Naḥash (London, 1715).

Third, to explain Lurianic Kabbalah in an Italian Platonic Renaissance understanding.

Shomer Emunim brings these themes together. The work that is sometimes referred to as “the earlier edition/Shomer Emunim HaKadmon,” to distinguish it from the Toldot Aharon Hasidic work of the same name.

Shomer Emunim is structured as two short dialogues. The first defends kabbalah and the second gives Ergas’ understanding of Lurianic emanation. The short work is structured as a dialogue between two fictional characters “Shealtiel,”  and “Yehoyada”. The first, named “Shealtiel,” “the one inquiring about God,” assumes the role of a skeptical Talmudist needing to learn the importance of Kabbalah. The second protagonist named  “the one who knows God,” is a presentation from an experienced Kabbalist.

The two debates gradually ease the reader into Kabbalistic terminology and concepts, often contrasting Kabbalistic ideas with ideas from Jewish philosophy, especially Ergas’ rejection of Aristotelian and Maimonidean categories. They elaborate on key concepts such as: Kabbalah’s authenticity and the importance of its study; God’s Unity; Relating to God through Kabbalistic worlds and Sefirot; the nature of God’s Essence; Tzimtzum; Prayer; and Providence.

Returning to tzimtzum, what does it mean? Does God literally contract? Hasidut and most 19th-century works treated tzimtzum (the divine contraction), as a metaphor. God did not really contract. The source for the later thinkers to treat it as a metaphor is Ergas’ work. However, the actual creator of the idea Rabbi Abraham de Herrera’s Spanish kabbalistic work Puerta del Cielo. Herrera was held in deep respect by Amsterdam’s Rabbinic leadership. His Puerta del Cielo was paraphrased/translated by Isaac Aboab da Fonseca as Shaar Hashamayim, which is what Ergas read. Herrara’s work read Kabbalah in terms of Renaissance Platonism and Florentine academy. It also read Kabbalah as an unfolding cosmology and temporal infinite expansion, rejecting the medieval closed universe.

Ergas is also known as one of those who questioned Rabbi Moshe Hayyim Luzzatto. In one letter, Ergas wrote to Bassan, Luzzatto’s teacher about whether the Ramchal was a legitimate kabbalist. Ergas wrote that he heard from others that while the Ramchal was learned in kabbalistic teachings, he did not consider him pious since he was not married and he was not careful to immerse in the mikveh on erev Shabbat, and he cut his beard even with scissors. Elsewhere, Ergas was worried that the yihudim practiced by Luzzatto brought down an impure spirit and not the divine. Paradoxically, Luzzatto was deeply influenced by Ergas and Luzatto’s 138 Gates of Wisdom is a similar reading of Lurianic Kabbalah to that of Ergas.

The second half of Avinoam Fraenkel’s edition is his own Kabbalah Overview. Fraenkel considers that the interesting contemporary material is in the Kabbalah Overview – and therefore the primary focus of his interview with me is on the details of the Kabbalah Overview. Fraenkel tells us that the Overview presents key ideas of the Arizal’s Kabbalah, explained in the context of contemporary science and technology, providing “insight into the dramatic transformations taking place, and about to take place, in the world around us.”  

For Fraenkel, the Overview “sets out a clear framework of understanding as to how we can relate to the remarkable ongoing advancements in the technological world around us within the context of the larger Kabbalistic vision of the Messianic process and beyond.  There is nothing touchy feely in this book, it is fully grounded in authoritative Kabbalistic and scientific sources.”

To help explain his views, Fraenkel produced ten short videos – if you want to understand his views, then you should watch them. He also produced two blog posts elsewhere. One on prohibiting translating Kabbalah and the other on the type of intelligence needed for our contemporary reality.

Here is number ten on messianism where Fraenkel has discovered that the messianic age is an age of the new emergence of science, technology, and information. The messianic age is our collective consciousness in an age of emergent information systems. I am amazed about the convergence between this messianic vision of emergence and the emergence vision of the main pavilion Alif of EXPO 2020 in Dubai.

In his own words, the unfolding of messianism “is through cycles of emergence that relative underlying states of separation, uncertainty, shattered tohu [chaos] and reduction are transformed into ever higher partzufim [metaphorical figures of human likeness] of relative states of tighter integration, certainty and tikkun.

Fraenkel contrasts the reductionists, in which all laws of nature follow the rules of the behavior of the smallest subatomic particles, to his own emergent model that argues that the atomic world and the visible world can operate using different rules. Prior attempts at combining science and mysticism such as The Tao of Physics or the Dancing Wu LI Masters worked at the level of the reductionist.

Since this book is 1100 pages, (did I mention that already?) it is the largest book that I own, if I ever used this in a classroom I would take an X-Act-O knife and cut the volume into usable units.  

The volume will make a contribution to English-Language Judaica. The translation is basically correct and it has copious notes and an introduction. Fraenkel’s introduction and notes contextualize Ergas in 18th-20^th issues of the Leshem, Tanya, Ben Ish Hai, and Nefesh Hahayim, but not in the Italian milieu of Ergas himself. Fraenkel rejects Rabbi Yihya Qafih (1850-1931) for critiquing the kabbalah but not Kabbalah’s 17^th century detractors.

The footnotes properly acknowledge the role that the writings of Rabbi Moses Cordovero play in Ergas’ understanding of Luria as well as the role of the writings Rabbi Yehudah Hayyat from the 15^th century. This is important because Fraenkel regrettably denied the vast Cordovero influence in his edition of Nefesh HaHayyim.

For a historical contextualization, you can start with Alessandro Guetta, Italian Jewry in the Early Modern Era: Essays in Intellectual History or one of Moshe Idel’s essays such as “Conceptualizations of Tzimtzum in Baroque Italian Kabbalah.” 

For those looking to enter the world of the later post-Lurianic Kabbalah, there is no better book to start with than that of Ergas. In addition, Fraenkel’s introductions and notes are a gold mine of information that will steer the beginner in the right direction of further books to master.  For the second half of this tome, Fraenkel reminds us of the need for Jewish thought to start engaging more with the current cosmologies of emergence, transhumanism, Anthropocene, posthumanism, and singularity, Overall, a solid volume and a major accomplishment. And definitely worth buying for those interested in Kabbalah.  

Avinoam Fraenkel Interview on Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah

1. If Shomer Emunim is an introduction to Kabbalah, why did you write such an extensive Kabbalah Overview?

Shomer Emunim very ably communicates several key Kabbalah concepts, however, in places it touches on some deeper ideas without elaborating and requires its reader to simply accept them. This led to the birth of the appended “Kabbalah Overview” which, in effect, is a book in its own right.

Short footnote explanations did not lend themselves to the frequent appearance of these ideas scattered across Shomer Emunim, and it was necessary to build a central repository of these ideas to serve as a reference point for them. Before I knew it, building significantly on the fine platform set out in Shomer Emunim, the Kabbalah Overview transformed into a systematic presentation of the most important basic concepts of the Arizal’s Kabbalah.

Very significantly, in addition to this, these concepts have been presented in the Kabbalah Overview in the context of contemporary science and technology. In particular, the primary concept of the Arizal’s Kabbalah known as “Partzufim” has now been properly explained for the first time, using the up-and-coming framework of scientific understanding known as “Emergence.” With this explanation, I believe that the nature of the radical technological changes we are all witnessing in the world, together with the general future trajectory of these changes, become clearly understood.

2. What made you decide to integrate analogies and explanations based on contemporary science and technology into the Kabbalah Overview?

Kabbalah works have historically always been richly illuminated and tightly integrated with analogies from the contemporary science prevalent at the time of writing.

A simple example of this is Kabbalah’s deep integration of the ancient concept of the 4 elements (earth, water, air, and fire). There are several such examples and most derive from Greek philosophy which broadly prevailed as the mainstream scientific understanding of the universe for the best part of two millennia. As such, it is entirely understandable that these analogies were borrowed and assumed as the established truth throughout the corpus of Kabbalah writings.

However, it is important to bear in mind that even though some Kabbalah texts might come across as indicating otherwise, at the end of the day these are all just analogies, and if the analogies are based on what we now understand to be false assumptions, that does not invalidate the underlying idea any particular analogy was being used to explain. The Kabbalist, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzato (the Ramchal), a contemporary of Rabbi Yosef Ergas, highlighted this in his essay Maamar Al HaHaggadot,when explaining that Kabbalistic concepts are encoded in the Talmud’s story narrative (Aggadah). He stated that a “concept could have been presented differently in the context of what is well-known in other generations, and the author of the [Aggadah] statement would do so himself were he to express it in those generations.”

Therefore, now that many ancient scientific concepts are no longer considered true and we have a more sophisticated understanding of the universe around us, we are able to far more effectively communicate the age-old Kabbalistc concepts, using the language and conceptual toolset of contemporary science and technology.

More than this, as was already explained in Nefesh HaTzimtzum, the Zohar explicitly refers to the opening of the wellsprings of Kabbalistic and scientific knowledge in our times and that as we edge closer to the times of the Messiah, these ideas will become increasingly accessible to all, and even children will be able to relate to them. The Vilna Gaon goes further and highlights that it is specifically the new scientific knowledge that will provide us with an ability to properly understand the depths of Kabbalah, the depths of Torah.

3. In focusing your Kabbalah Overview on rational scientific explanations don’t you lose the mystical side of Kabbalah?

It is unfortunate that Kabbalah is associated with the “mystical,” because when properly understood Kabbalah is entirely rational and totally grounded. It is only its history of restricted highly cryptic transmission through a few elite individuals in each generation, together with its association with having deep explanations of reality, that has led many to build up a mystical culture around it.

Kabbalah provides a remarkable framework to understand the Torah and the world around us. With very recent advancements in science, we now have the tools and language to begin to tap into and publicly express the Kabbalah’s and therefore the Torah’s deeper and highly rational meaning, as applied to the reality of the world around us.

Just as it is with science, which currently only explains a tiny part of the workings of the world around us, there are also huge unexplained aspects of Kabbalah. However, just as no-one calls the many unknowns in science “mystical,” so too it is a mistake to refer to the unknowns in Kabbalah as “mystical.” Therefore, in providing rational scientific explanations for the basic concepts of Kabbalah, I intentionally removed the word “mystical” from my book. I even went so far as to ask permission from one Rabbi who had initially referred to Kabbalah as “mystical” in his approbation published in the book, if I could remove the word. He kindly agreed.

4. How can contemporary science help us to relate to the concept of Kabbalistic Worlds?

It is common knowledge that the physical world around us is filled with things that are made of smaller entities. A simple piece of paper is made of paper molecules. Those molecules are comprised of atoms, which in turn are made of protons, neutrons, etc. Protons and neutrons are made of quarks and quarks are theorized to be made of strings. So, what is the reality of the piece of paper, is it paper or perhaps atoms, maybe its protons and neutrons, or perhaps quarks or possibly strings. The truth is that the piece of paper is comprised of all these things, and all are simultaneously true. However, the way we see the paper depends on our perspective. If we just look at it, we see the paper. If we look through an electron microscope, we will see shadows of atoms and if we use a Hadron Collider, we might infer the existence of traces of quarks.

Kabbalah explains that there are an infinite number of what it calls “worlds” that are all tightly interconnected, cascading down in a chain from the Essence of God all the way down to us in our physical world. Rabbi Ergas explains that the meaning of a “Kabbalistic World” is a level of perception. All these worlds occupy the same larger environment (although this is not what we would call a physical environment), and they are analogous to the simultaneous existence of strings, quarks, protons and neutrons, atoms, and molecules within every physical entity. In the paper analogy, each of these levels can be viewed as being like different physical worlds with the lowest “world” in this example being the strings and the highest “world” being the piece of paper.

Each higher Kabbalistic world above us is defined to be a higher dimension of existence that is associated with a higher level of perception that a lower world simply cannot relate to. With our paper example, there are properties at each higher level of perception of the reality of the paper that don’t exist at the lower levels. So, the piece of paper itself is seen under normal circumstances to be highly stable and used for drawing or writing on. In stark contrast, quarks are seen to be subject to uncertainty, and it is inconceivable that they can be used to communicate information by drawing or writing on them. Each higher level within the paper has an additional dimension of existence that cannot be related to from the lower relative level.

There is a Kabbalistic principle that no entity in any particular world level can perceive anything higher than that world level. Therefore, we can relate to the paper and all the levels below it, but we cannot even imagine what it means to live in a higher dimensional existence. This is just beyond our comprehension.

The Kabbalists explain that our physical world is a cut down, dramatically limited experience of an unimaginable multi-dimensional reality of worlds. They broadly categorize the world levels into 5 general levels of world groupings and we, in our physical world, inhabit the lowest world of the lowest world grouping. There is nothing physical about any world above ours. A key point resulting from this understanding is that even though we are totally unaware of it and only relate to our physical world, we simultaneously exist within all levels and Kabbalistic worlds above it, and ultimately, within the Essence of God Who permeates throughout all existence.

5) Is our physical world real or an illusion?

Often those first engaging in Kabbalah study question the reality of our physical world around us.

A Kabbalah beginner will learn about the world levels, he will also learn about the Kabbalistic axiom that the creation of any lower world level does not change any higher world levels and also does not change the Creator in any way. When first encountering the idea that our physical reality is embedded within all the higher “worlds” and within an unchanged Creator, it is all too easy to conclude that while we don’t perceive the higher “worlds,” nevertheless all the higher “worlds” and ultimately our unchanged Creator, are ever present, and therefore our physical world must just be an illusion.

This is a fundamental error! Although paradoxical to us and requiring more detailed explanation, Kabbalah explains that notwithstanding our Creator being unchanged by the Creation, our physical world is still very real.

More than that, the Torah was given by the Creator to the Jewish People, and it defines how to live in our physical world and as a result, how to get closer to the Creator all around us. It prescribes commandments (Mitzvot) that must be performed within the very specific limits of physical space and time. If the physical world is to be related to as an illusion, then the Torah, God’s instruction as to how to live in this physical world, could be seen to be meaningless.

6. Can you share a scientific insight in relation to the Sefirot?

The Sefirot are generally associated with the process stages of the creation of every lower world/entity from a higher world/entity. The essence of the Sefirot is the creation of the other, and therefore of separation, where a newly created lower entity sees itself as separate from the higher entity that creates it. A useful way of remembering this key point is that the Hebrew word “Sefirot,” has the same consonants “s-p-r-t,” as the English word “separate.”

There is much to discuss about the Sefirot, but to home in on one central aspect of them, the Sefirot process stages occur through relationships between at least pairs of Sefirot. At a deeper level every relationship between a pair of Sefirot can be understood in terms of a relationship between what are called “Chasadim” and “Gevurot.” In contemporary terms we can relate to “Chasadim” as being “energy,” and “Gevurot” as being a “constraint” of that energy. For anything to happen in this world, there must be an interaction between both “energy” and a “constraint.”

For example, when walking along a floor, energy is provided by a person’s leg. The floor in turn provides a constraint of resistance and friction that prevents the foot from slipping and allows the foot to push against the floor and thus the energy in the leg propels the person forward. However, if a person tries to walk on ice, there is no constraint, there is no friction. There is nothing for the energy of the foot to push against, so the foot slips backwards, the person falls and goes nowhere. Without the constraint, energy cannot have any impact and simply dissipates.

Everything in the world, whether the development of an abstract idea, the generation of movement or the production of an entity can be understood as being a relationship between some type of supply of energy, Chasadim, and its constraint, Gevurot.

7. What is the Tree of Life and how does it relate to the Sefirot and the Arizal’s concept of Partzufim?

The Tree of Life is a well-known diagrammatic presentation of the Sefirot, represented as circles, connected to each other with various lines (e.g., see the website logo and also the image of the flashlight shedding light on a Tree of Life on my website homepage screen here).

Many who describe Kabbalah, only talk about the Sefirot and unfortunately don’t refer to Partzufim. However, while it is true that the Tree of Life contains Sefirot, most are entirely unaware that it depicts what is called a “Partzuf” (the singular of “Partzufim”), an entity formed by the integration of the underlying Sefirot into a larger “Whole,” that is much more significant than the Sefirot it contains.

8. Using science, the Kabbalah Overview innovates an entirely new understanding of Partzufim. Can you briefly explain this?

It is only with an up and coming relatively recently understood framework of scientific understanding of the world called “Emergence,” that we now have the tools and language to talk about Partzufim in a truly meaningful and relatable way.

In a nutshell, Emergence relates to new properties that arise specifically from the integration and combination of underlying separate “parts,” (i.e., Sefirot,) into a greater “whole,” (i.e., Partzuf), where the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Perhaps the most significant example of this is the human brain, which is comprised of a very specific configuration of some 80+ billion neurons. No-one would ever say that a single neuron can think or have consciousness. However, it is the specific configuration of the individual separate neurons (the Sefirot) into a larger whole of the brain (the Partzuf) that results in the emergence of conscious thought. The key point about Emergence is that the emerging properties of the whole (the Partzuf) simply cannot even be predicted from a complete knowledge of everything about the separate parts (the Sefirot).

The framework of Emergence, although still in its infancy, seriously challenges the mainstream understanding of science and turns it on its head. It challenges the common scientific understanding of “Reductionism” that posits that if we can reduce all of existence down to its smallest underlying separate component parts, say quarks or strings, and then build a grand theory of precisely how those separate parts work, then we can not only know everything about the parts, but can also know everything about the “whole” of the world that is built from an integration of these parts.

The framework of Emergence counters this from the consistent observation of real-life systems across many areas of science, highlighting that even when none of the separate system parts have changed, it is the specific integration of these parts into a larger whole that causes new unpredictable properties, such as conscious thought, to emerge. At the same time, it should be emphasized that this framework is simply a different perspective of the same scientific facts that are evident in the world around us and does not challenge the validity of those facts.

What is becoming increasingly clear from many independent scientific disciplines, is that in stark contrast to Reductionism, it is specifically Emergence that is a key factor required to properly understand those disciplines. For example, in chemistry it is well-known that graphite and diamonds are both comprised of the identical underlying parts, i.e., carbon atoms. Configure the carbon atoms in one combination and they become soft and pliable graphite, a black substance that conducts electricity well and is perfect for use in pencils. Integrate the same carbon atoms in another combination and we end up with clear diamonds, one of the hardest materials known to man, an electrical insulator. The diverse macroscopic properties of graphite and diamond cannot be understood solely from the carbon atoms in isolation. It is therefore specifically Emergence that causes the field of chemistry to exist and that the reductive knowledge of the physics of single atoms in isolation is not enough on its own to infer the field of chemistry from physics.

It is similarly true that biology, psychology, and economics are disciplines that ultimately emerge, are independently relevant and cannot be predicted from a knowledge of physics.

When properly analyzing the texts of the Arizal’s Kabbalah written hundreds of years ago, it is remarkable that the concepts of Reductionism and Emergence directly parallel the concepts of Sefirot (the underlying reduced parts) and Partzufim (the larger emerging wholes) respectively. Both concepts are valid and necessary to understand the world around us.

The concept of Emergence and Partzufim, which is the dominant factor, is very much the primary teaching of the Arizal’s Kabbalah. When deeply looking at the Arizal’s Kabbalah in the context of the contemporary understanding of Emergence, there is a clear “emerging” understanding of the trajectory of the accelerating pace of change in the world around us through science and technology. On a personal level, every time I reflect on this, it never ceases to astonish me.

9. Your way of connecting science to Kabbalah is different from others. Why do you think you are right?

There are many who have a simplified understanding of the process of the cascading down of Kabbalistic Worlds from higher to lower world levels. They understand this process to be a straightforward top-down creation process. With this simplified understanding it becomes tempting to look at our understanding of our world, and to suggest that the greater the level of Reduction, the higher the level, and therefore the higher the Kabbalistic World/level.

So, using the piece of paper example mentioned earlier, they would say that the piece of paper itself is the lowest Kabbalistic level and the molecules, and then atoms, then protons and neutrons are all increasingly higher levels, ultimately reaching the highest levels of quarks and then strings. They therefore associate quantum mechanics and quantum uncertainty with higher relative Kabbalistic levels.

In all honesty, before I delved more deeply into Kabbalah study, I used to also think this way. However, this pure top-down approach to understand Kabbalistic Worlds is not the whole story. While the worlds are indeed created with an overall top-down cascading of higher world levels to lower world levels, nevertheless, within each individual world level there is a bottom-up building up of that individual world. So, every lower world is created by the higher world first creating the lowest level underlying components of the lower world. These components are then built up within the lower world on a bottom-up basis. Therefore, using the piece of paper example, the lowest levels that we are aware of within our physical world are the strings and quarks. Then, ascending the levels we reach protons and neutrons, and then atoms and then molecules, it is only then that we reach the highest level in this example, of the piece of paper.

Therefore, according to this more refined understanding of Kabbalah, quantum mechanics and quantum uncertainty and all that goes with them, do not relate to higher Kabbalistic levels, but rather, relate to lowest Kabbalistic levels. Therefore, all the theories assuming a juxtaposition of quantum mechanics with higher Kabbalistic levels are misleading! It is only by appreciating the bottom-up creation process within each Kabbalistic world level that we can properly relate science to Kabbalah, and when doing so it becomes abundantly clear that this bottom-up process is entirely synonymous with the concept of Emergence.

10. How is your explanation of the interplay of Sefirot and Partzufim related to what the Talmud calls “Maaseh Bereishit” and “Maaseh Merkava,” and what does this tell us about future times?

The Talmud (Chagiga 11b) refers to the deepest understanding of Torah in terms of two areas of knowledge that it calls “Maaseh Bereishit/the Act of Creation” and “Maaseh Merkava/the Act of Merkava.”

In Shomer Emunim, R. Ergas explains that the Maimonidean understanding of these terms, as described in detail in Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah, Chaps. 1–4, is simply wrong. While R. Ergas highly respects Maimonides’ teachings and frequently quotes from them, at the end of the day, he demonstrates that Maimonides was not part of the chain of illustrious rabbis through whom the Kabbalah was passed down the generations.

In contrast, the Arizal explains Maaseh Bereishit and Maaseh Merkava as being the essence of what Kabbalah is about.

The Arizal, in effect explains that Maaseh Bereishit is about reduction and the Sefirot. In contrast he relates the word “Merkava” to “Harkava,” meaning “grafting” or “integration,” and that therefore Maaseh Merkava is about emergence, integration and the Partzufim.

Once we properly understand the interplay between Maaseh Bereishit and Maaseh Merkava, as between reduction and emergence, between the Sefirot and Partzufim, then, and only then, can we begin to properly understand the Kabbalah and the astonishing trajectory of the accelerating scientific and technological processes in the world around us.

Perhaps the most amazing thing though, is that once we have a clear understanding of the Arizal’s teachings of Maaseh Merkava, Emergence and Partzufim, then the precise identity of the Messiah (Mashiach ben David) becomes utterly obvious. It is likely to be very different to who and what you might think. It is the collective consciousness, the larger Partzuf whole, that will ultimately emerge from the specific integration of all the separate Sefirot parts of humankind and the world around us!