Tag Archives: philosophy

Maimonidean Theistic Naturalism: Do we use it?

There is a mild debate in Israel over a little introduction to medieval thought published by Prof Shalom Sadik who advocates a Maimonidean rational naturalism and Rabbi Shmuel Ariel who presents a religious critique

Prof Sadik in his book A Call For The Revival of Religious Philosophy. [Hebrew] (Keriah le’techiyah shel Hafilosofia Hadatit), a related English book by Sadik came out last year  Maimonides A Radical Religious Philosopher(2023)

Sadik presents many of the basics ideas of the Guide of the Perplexed as an esoteric document: the eternality of the world, that miracles are natural events, that God does not violate the course of nature, providence is naturalistic, and Mosaic prophecy is an act of his own cognition. These are standard understanding of the Guide debated by Samuel Ibn Tibbon, ibn Falquera, Albalag, Efodi, Narboni, Anatoli, Gersonides, and other Maimonideans/Averroists within Jewish thought. These are also affirmed by most modern scholars of Maimonides’s thought.

In contrast, Rabbi Ariel assume that these ideas are outside of the limits of accepted Jewish thought, that mizvot assume that one is doing them to serve a theistic God, and that Judaism is primarily about belief in the principles of Judaism. These ideas should certainly not be taught at yeshiva.

Prof Sadik points out that Crescas and Albo already show that we do not exclude people for their philosophic beliefs. However, Sadik points out that much of Kabbalah as well as Hasidut would be outside the pale of Maimonidean thought as foreign worship since they contain the wrong conception of God.

Sadik and Ariel produced an unedited Hebrew document on their discussion, but there are more pieces of the discussion on social media.  

This discussion produced long threads on social media debating the topic, but it was almost entirely about Hasidic thought and how the personified God who is moved by human action is the Jewish opinion and how now in our age Hasidut or Rabbi Kook is the horizon of Jewish thought along with a literal reading of the Bible and Yehudah Halevi’s Kuzari. Rav Nachman of Breslov has become the norm. It was as if no one knew about Maimonides and the method that medieval Jewish thought treated the Bible in a way to remove the literal anthropomorphism.

What really struck me, was that it seemed almost no one had heard of the medieval thinkers, as if no one knew the Guide of the Perplexed and its esoteric teachings and the assumption that these medieval thinkers were not part of the canon of Jewish thought. Yet, these texts and ideas are taught in every department of Jewish thought. They are a pillar of mastery of Jewish philosophic texts. No one on social media could offer a defense of medieval theistic naturalism or understood how important they are for understanding Jewish thought and intellectual history.

In order to present the issue, I asked six experts on medieval Jewish thought: Do you see the medieval Jewish rationalists and naturalists as them as important for Jewish thought and thinking? How important are medieval rationalism and the Maimonidean/Averroiest Jewish commentaries. I asked each participant for just two paragraphs so that you get a taste of the diverse justifications of these thinkers.  Those who answered were Professors Zev Harvey, Yehuda Halper, Daniel Rynhold, Sarah Pessin, Y. Tzvi Langermann, and Lawrence Kaplan. They are presented in the order in which they replied to my query. Go and Study.

From my perspective, these naturalistic ideas are already in Abraham Ibn Ezra’s commentaries, Shlomo Ibn Gabirol’s piyyutim, and Isaac Arama, Akedat Yitzhak. These works are certainly in the canon. And these ideas are needed to understand the dialectic in later works including Kabbalists such as Nahmanides, Yakov bar Sheshet, Maharal, Shelah, and the Vilna Gaon. In addition, these of works generated several Maimonidean controversies in 1230’s, 1288, 1300-1305, and then later in 16th century Eastern Europe. The study of these debates reveals the contours of Jewish thought.

Furthermore, these rational thinkers are studied to produce new Jewish thinking in every generation. They have produced many forms of Jewish thought including Kantian and Hegelian reading of Judaism, process theology, philosophic contemplation, theistic skepticism, theistic naturalism, and Barthian versions. Almost every generation returns to Maimonides and his commentaries to develop Jewish philosophic thinking.

Zeev Harvey, Emeritus Professor of Jewish Philosophy, Hebrew University  

Radical Philosophy and Mainstream Judaism

The genius of Jewish Thought is its cosmopolitanism and pluralism.  It is written in seventy languages and ranges from radical rationalism to radical mysticism.  Maimonides, like Rabbi Shmuel Ariel after him, believed that Judaism can be defined by dogmas.  However, as Mendelssohn said, the only truly good things that came from his 13 Principles are the beautiful piyyut Yigdal and the great books by Hasdai Crescas, Joseph Albo, and Isaac Abrabanel, which criticized those Principles and suggested different approaches. 

 It was Ibn Gabirol who brought radical philosophy into the Synagogue with his Adon OlamAzharot, and Keter Malkhut.  Ibn Ezra and Gersonides brought it into Mikraʾot Gedolot.  Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed is the most influential book in Jewish philosophy, and traditional Jews usually read it in Ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew translation, together with the radical Commentaries of Narboni, Kaspi, and Efodi.  The presence of radical philosophy in mainstream Judaism is clear and significant.   

Last February I was invited to give a series of seven shiʿurim on the philosophy of Rabbi Hasdai Crescas at the “Kerem” center in Brooklyn.  Founded by Reb Joel Wertzberger and directed by Harav ha-Gaon Yonoson Marton, “Kerem” is a group of Satmar rabbis and scholars who are wholly committed to the Satmar derekh, but interested in learning about different approaches.  Among other Israeli academics who have spoken there are Moshe Halbertal, Yair Lorberbaum, Benjamin Porat, Elhanan Reiner, and Shai Wozner.  James Diamond of Canada has also spoken there.  I was not surprised to find that the Satmar ḥasidim were well versed in Sefer Or Ha-Shem and other medieval philosophic books.  However, I was surprised when they asked me pertinent questions about the most recent writings of young Israeli scholars – not only Shalom Sadik but also more controversial authors, like Micah Goodman and Israel Netanel Rubin.  I have no doubt that in the eyes of the Satmars Rabbi Ariel’s belief that the State of Israel is atḥalta de-geʾulah is far more problematic than Professor Sadik’s views on hashgaḥah.    

Yehuda Halper, Dept of Jewish Philosophy. Bar Ilan University

Following Al-Farabi and Averroes, medieval Jewish philosophers turned to Aristotelian logical works to develop a notion of what modern logicians call second-order knowledge. This kind of knowledge is knowing that you know something. Al-Farabi had associated the Aristotelian demonstration, the pinnacle of logical argument and the foundation of mathematical and scientific reasoning, with certainty, i.e., knowing that you know what has been demonstrated. Thinkers of the Ibn Tibbon family and later commentators on Aristotelian thought adopted the demonstration as the ideal basis for math and science, but recognized that there are very few, if any proper demonstrations in Biblical or Talmudic works. Rather what we might find in those works are portrayals of beliefs whose verification is less than certain. They often looked to other forms of argument, such as dialectic, rhetoric, and poetics, to describe the arguments of such works. That is, thinkers like Jacob Anatoli and Moses Ibn Tibbon, focused on the form of Biblical and Talmudic claims and took them as non-demonstrative, but often persuasive by using other forms of argument. Using these techniques they were able to differentiate in fairly technical terms argumentative techniques for religious and scientific purposes.

Students today often think of belief as something inherently irrational, as essentially opposed to scientific or justified knowledge. As such, they seem to think that people cannot reason about belief. The medieval Aristotelians exemplify ways in which humans can reason about belief, even beliefs that are not scientific or scientifically provable. In fact, I believe that everyone can benefit from greater use of reasoning, in public, in private, about religion, about science, in general.

Daniel Rynhold, Dean & Professor of Jewish Philosophy, Yeshiva University

It’s difficult to attribute immense historical importance to the thinkers you mention since they are little studied by the Jewish masses. Some are likely unknown to the average yeshiva bochur, and even in the academy, with the possible exception of Gersonides, they are only studied by specialists in medieval thought. However, they are incredibly important (again, particularly Gersonides given that his biblical commentaries place his works – even if unopened – on the shelves of many Batei midrash alongside the classical and oft-studied commentators) for modelling a path for a relatively silent but sizable enough minority in the Orthodox Jewish world. And that path is one that allows halakhic study and commitment to sit side by side with a theology that veers far from the mainstream. It troubles me when such approaches are not accommodated. It’s not that those opposed to such philosophies need to accept them. But however difficult it is for some to understand how those non-mainstream philosophies can support halakhic commitment, for people of a certain religious sensibility, it is only those theologies that can inform their religious commitments. One person’s heresy is another’s “divrei elokim hayyim” as anyone who has, for example, read both Ramban and Rambam can attest.

Sarah Pessin, Professor of Philosophy, University of Denver

The question of rationalism in a thinker like Maimonides is itself wrapped up in a pre-modern sense of ‘the rational’ where ‘the rational’ includes a depth of commitment to logic, math, and science, yes, but all at once also to ethics and theology. It’s a wonderful Greco-Islamo-Jewish framework for seeing the hand of God and with it the heart of divine wisdom in the details of botany and also in the invitation to minister with respect to neighbors. Living a life b’zelem, in this context, is living a life which aspires to a hint of God’s wisdom and a trace of God’s goodness all at once such that a life of Torah and a life of science and life of ethics are all intertwined parts of a life-with-God.

Yes Torah—and yes Torah because yes wisdom and ethics; for the attentive person-of-God, the Torah is a gift just as our God-given talents of intellect and virtue are gifts. When in doubt, the Torah guides—but if the Torah appears to guide against reason and virtue, it’s a fine indicator that we’ve made a wrong turn.

While different in epistemological frameworks from a modern thinker like Buber, I think Maimonides would agree with Buber’s take on “theomania” as the error humans make when we are so excited to meet God (or relatedly, so confident that we have already met God) that we feel confident overlooking responsibilities to neighbors. I think Judaism–and also, humanity in general–is richer for Maimonides’ ancient sense of reason–shared by Greek, Islamic, Christian, and other thinkers–which features the sort of wisdom that imitates God’s wisdom not only of head but of heart, inspiring and inviting a life of religion-with-science-with-goodness-to-neighbors that mirrors the generosity of God’s overflowing hesed

Y. Tzvi Langermann, Professor Emeritus, Bar Ilan University

It is impossible for me anyway to answer questions about relevancy without thinking about how the figures you mention are relevant to me, on a personal rather than professional level. I find inspiration and guidance in the thought of many figures across the cultures and ages, especially Maimonides. In this context the most important point is this: Maimonides wrote a guide for the perplexed–a book whose aim is not to inculcate doctrine but to show the way. It is fundamental to Judaism that there is only one Truth–with a capital T, because God is al-Haqq, the Truth, but each individual must make his/her own struggle or journey to approximate the Truth as best as one can. Maimonides’ chief aid is in coaching us how to avoid errors along the path.For this reason Maimonides, and not a few other medieval thinkers, are relevant–chief among them, Yehudah ha-Levi who, in my understanding, is no less rational than Maimonides.

The proof of the pudding is in the eating., Maimonides is clearly still relevant. The questions are how and why. To the best of my understanding of Maimonides’ historical setting and intellectual milieu, the question, rationalist or not, is out of place. Making this a focus of discussion is another example of the ubiquitous yet unavoidable act of imposing contemporary categories (whose parameters are not clear to me even in contemporary terms) on historical actors from another world. Yet this faux pas is unavoidable precisely because there is, for whatever reasons, great intellectual interest and, I submit, societal and political significance, in exploring the questions associated with rationality and its presumed opponents and slugging out the answers. Maimonides is brought into this exchange because his rich written legacy offers material for discussion and, yes, prooftexts, for the different positions–of course, when the material is translated (since most of it is in Arabic) and explicated. Finding support or at least solace in a towering authority (and yes, authority matters for everyone, admit it or not) certainly is helpful.

Prof Lawrence Kaplan, McGill University

For the radical Maimonideans, Maimonides’ view of the relationship between philosophy and religion is a prime example of what Prof. Carlos Fraenkel refers to as “philosophical religion.”  That, Maimonides, to some extent, seems to be an adherent of philosophical religion is, in my view, undeniable. He identifies the highest and most profound teachings of Judaism, the account of creation and the account of the chariot, with the philosophical natural and divine sciences, and for him the highest and ultimate goal of Judaism is the knowledge, love, and fear of God based on reason. Moreover, Maimonides sharply differentiates between the welfare of the soul, correct beliefs in simplified or imaginative form prescribed for the multitude on the basis of authority, and perfection of the soul, the intellectual knowledge of God based on reason designed for the elite (Guide 1:33, 3:27). 

And though he never says so explicitly, he intimates that observance of the commandments of the Torah, both commanded practices and commanded beliefs, inasmuch as they are accepted on authority, cannot endow one with perfection of the soul, though they can point one in the direction of attaining perfection of the soul, if one has the ability, through the use of one’s intellect.

Still, if one takes Maimonides at face value, it seems he cannot be viewed as an adherent of philosophical religion tout court, as say was Averroes.  Here the radical Maimonideans, pushing Maimonides’ claim that the Guide is an esoteric work to its limits, argue that, despite his protestations, Maimonides in truth subscribed to the Aristotelian view of eternity and thus did not allow for the possibility of miracles understood supernaturally, whereby God suspends the natural order, even if only temporarily, through an act of will. Rather the biblical “miracles” are just wondrous acts, whose natural causes we do not understand. Along these lines and, more significant, for the radical Maimonideans such basic biblical doctrines as prophecy and providence have to be understood purely naturalistically, the more literal, personal, and supernaturalist presentation of these doctrines in the Bible just being an accommodation to the limited understanding of the multitude.

 Unlike the radical Maimonideans, I see no reason to question Maimonides’ sincerity in affirming that creation is more probable than eternity. Still, I believe that one should not exaggerate the differences between the view that takes Maimonides’ affirmation of creation at face value and the radical Maimonidean view. For even according to the Maimonidean view of creation, the world is not just an expression of an act of divine will, but also of divine wisdom.   This being so, the primary path to knowledge and love of God (See Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah 2:2) is not through knowledge of God’s miracles, as Halevi or Nahmanides maintain, but knowledge of God’s wisdom as revealed in the orderly and law-like processes of nature. And included in these law-like natural processes are the phenomena of both prophecy and providence which, for Maimonides, operate naturalistically.

Prayer without Hope – Rabbi Shagar

For those who bought the new volume of Rabbi Shagar translations which I edited with Levi Morrow (Maggid – Koren 2024). There was one small 1500 word section that was removed from the book by the Rav Shagar publication committee as pushing limits. You will see how Rabbi Shagar fused Rabbi Nahman of Breslov with Derrida.

I translated it back in 2017 with a 1600 word introduction. For my explanation and introduction, look at the original post. If you use it in the classroom, you will appreciate my 2017 introduction. It also has a link to the Hebrew. But for the rest of you who bought the book, print out the translation below and place it in your volume, This translation has been updated by Levi Morrow from the 2017 translation.

Praying without Hope*

Rabbi Naḥman of Bratslav and Jacques Derrida both taught that prayer—and faith, for that matter—is only possible through absolute renunciation—praying without hope or future. Rabbi Naḥman wrote: “Pray without any intent for personal benefit, without thinking about yourself at all, as if you did not exist, as written in the verse, ‘It is for your sake that we are slain all day long’ (Psalms 44:23).”[1] Derrida’s version: “Prayer does not hope for anything, not even from the future.”[2]

Prayer without hope does not demand the typical religious self-sacrifice, in which a person nullifies his self and his needs in favor of God. Rather, it embodies self-sacrifice in that the purest prayer is situated in its impossibility, as total self-sacrifice, purposeless suicide.

According to Derrida, prayer turns “to the other without future hope, only towards the past. It returns, without a future. However, despite this, you pray. Is this possible?” If this is so, we might ask: why, indeed, should you pray?

Is it possible to pray without hope, not just without any request, but while renouncing all hope? If we agree that this prayer, pure prayer, cleansed of all hope, is possible, would that not mean that the prayer’s essence is connected to this despair, to this lack of hope? […] I can imagine a response to this terrifying doubt: even then, at the moment when I pray without hope, there is hope within the prayer. I hope, minimally, that someone takes part in my prayer, or that someone hears my prayer, or someone understands my hopelessness and despair. Thus, despite everything, there is still hope and future. But perhaps not. Perhaps not. At least perhaps. For me, this too is a terrifying state of prayer.[3]

Prayer is empty mechanical speech, but in some form or another, it cuts through what Rabbi Naḥman called “the empty space” thereby overcomes the gap, even though it remains in the negative space of complete silence:

It requires you to affirm two opposites concrete existence (yesh) and nothingness (ayin). The empty space comes from the contraction (tsimtsum), as if God had removed himself from that space, as if there was no divinity there, otherwise it would not be empty […]. But in the absolute truth, there must be divinity there despite this […] and therefore it is impossible to understand the idea of the empty space until the future yet to come.[4]

Even though both of them recognize the impossibility of prayer, Rabbi Naḥman and Derrida do the opposite—they pray. Paraphrasing Maimonides’ statement that God “exists, but is not in existence,”[5] Derrida and Rabbi Naḥman ask: Cannot nothingness also be existence? Is it possible to pray without hoping? Is it possible to despair of hope and thereby to receive it, as a despairing hope? Then there is a hope and a future, and someone hears my voice. The connection to Maimonides is not incidental. Derrida saw the idea of negative attributes—Maimonides’ negative theology—as the basis for deconstruction, and thus also for prayer.[6] Similarly for Rabbi Naḥman: “this is prayer, for when we call to God with the attributes of flesh and blood, and it is improper to describe and call to God with attributes and praises and words and letters.”[7]

Many found Derrida’s statements about prayer incredibly shocking for “the philosopher who for years was considered the standard-bearer of anti-metaphysical radicalism, the guru of believers in materialism lacking any ‘beyond.’”[8] Indeed, Derrida was forced to defend himself from criticism by thinkers including Jurgen Habermas, according to whom he was nothing less than a Jewish mystic.[9]

Is this claim not correct? Derrida’s worldview is far from rationalist or anchored in philology. His deconstructive games sometimes seem, not coincidentally, like Kabbalistic-Hasidic homilies. He defended himself, claiming that his project was “a deconstruction of the values underlying mysticism,”[10] and in this, he was correct. However, Habermas’ accusations are not wiped away or even confronted by Derrida’s claim, since the passage from deconstruction to mysticism is not just possible, but is, perhaps, obvious. Derrida’s project denied all positivity, but this orientation clears the way for the mystical leap, for the hope “that someone takes part in my prayer […] At least perhaps.” The difference between Derrida and the mystic is a matter of pathos. Someone once said that the mystic and atheist say the same thing, “nothing.” The difference is that the mystic says it with a capital “N,” with a feeling of tremendous freedom that breaks him loose from the constraints of reality. Meanwhile the atheist says it as a dispirited, “terrifying possibility.”

Rabbi Naḥman and Derrida expressed—perhaps better than anyone else—the gap, the différance between the word and what we expect to accomplish.[11] This empty space is the source of the structural contradictions of reality itself, what Rabbi Naḥman called “the questions without answers.”[12] And yet they prayed?! This miracle happens in present tense. This moment has no external justification—it is an event, rather a result. This is grace that presents a possibility, a possibility for prayer without promise: “Prayer is when we call to God using flesh and blood qualities. He is then present for us in our calling to him. This is the grace of God. Without the grace of God, it would be improper to describe and call to God with attributes and praises and words and letters.”[13]

The question becomes one of grace, and paradoxically this grace depends on the human renunciation of the will to transcend. Self-acceptance, giving up on transcendence, “is not true or false. It is, word for word, prayer.”[14]

Self-sacrifice, suicide, is a condition for prayer because it liberates a person not just from the language, but from its logic as well. Prayer is therefore divine grace because it is impossible and yet occurs, or at least, perhaps occurs. This “perhaps” is important, because the “perhaps” elevates prayer to the realm of worldly possibilities—it therefore exists, if only as a possibility. Does someone hear and take part in the prayer with me? Perhaps, and this alone is enough to create hope. I pray, but am I certain that I will be answered? No, I am not certain. I am also not certain that I will not, but the prayer does something. Someone hears. Who is this someone? We say “God,” but this word lacks any independent meaning. It is enough for me that “I” hear, but who is the “I” that hears? I believe in the deep “I”, an “I” with a transcendental horizon. This is what the Hasidim called the root of the soul. Where there is an “I” like this, there is God.

The problem of attributes to which Rabbi Naḥman made reference denotes the impossibility of language actually doing what it claims to do, actually making contact with the Real. If I understand God as something that exists outside of me, I have strayed from the Real. Indeed, psychological reduction of faith is possible when faith is raised to the Lacanian Real.

However, reaching the Real requires the human renunciation of the will to transcend itself, and only after this is it correct to say that this “someone” is the “I”.


* Based on the edited version by Yishai Mevorach and published in The Remainder of Faith, 41–44.

[1] Rabbi Naḥman of Bratslav, Likkutei Moharan I 15:5.

[2] Jacques Derrida, Guf Tefillah tr. Michal Govrin (Tel Aviv: Mekhon Mofet Vekav Adom Keheh/Hakibuts Hame’uḥad, 2013), 87.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Naḥman of Breslov, Likkutei Moharan I 64:1.

[5] Moses Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed I:57. Unlike Maimonides, Derrida rejects the second part of Maimonides’ teachings, which believes in the knowledge of God, in the unity of the knower, the knowing, and the known, in the possibility of “if I knew him, I would be him,” which according to Derrida is simply death.

[6] Derrida was not familiar with the theory of attributes from Maimonides himself. See Gideon Ofrat, The Jewish Derrida, 68.

[7] Rabbi Naḥman, Likkutei Moharan I 15:5.

[8] Michal Govrin, “An Open Closure: Without End, or Closing” [Hebrew], Ha’aretz – Culture and Literature Edition, October 22, 2004. The article was written following Derrida’s death.

[9] Ofrat, The Jewish Derrida, 112.

[10] Cited in Ofrat, The Jewish Derrida, 111.

[11] In the language of Rabbi Naḥman, “there needs to be a separation, so to speak, between the filling and the surrounding. If not, then all would be one. However, through the empty space, from where God contracted his divinity, so to speak, and in which God created all of Creation, the empty space has come to encompass the world, and God surrounds all worlds, surrounding even the empty space […] and in the middle appears the empty space from where God withdrew his divinity, so to speak” (Rabbi Naḥman, Likkutei Moharan I 64:2).

[12] Ibid.

[13] Rabbi Naḥman, Likkutei Moharan I 15:5. Based on this paradox of impossible prayer as the only possibility of prayer, the possibility of a miracle, Rabbi Naḥman and Derrida claim that they are the only people who really pray.

[14] Jacques Derrida, cited in Govrin, “An Open Closure.”

Rav Soloveitchik on the Guide of the Perplexed-edited by Lawrence Kaplan

When Rabbi Soloveitchik arrived at Yeshiva University he gave classes for two decades on philosophic topics.  In these lectures, we see Soloveitchik as the graduate of the University of Berlin in philosophy and as the former student in the Berlin Rabbinical seminary (for a year). Soloveitchik gave great weight to future rabbis having training in philosophy and having a master’s degree in Jewish Studies.

Did you ever want to know what Rabbi Soloveitchik’s early philosophy lectures were like? Did you ever wish to have been able to attend them? Here is your chance.

We now have a record of one of those early courses, edited thanks to the hard work of Lawrence Kaplan professor at Magill University, who was the official translator for Halakhic Man.  The new volumes is called  Maimonides – Between Philosophy and Halakhah: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s Lectures on the Guide of the Perplexed (Urim Publications). The work is based on  a complete set of notes, taken by Rabbi Gerald (Yaakov) Homnick. The original notes consisted of two five spiral notebooks of 375 pages and 224 pages.  For the philosophic reader of Soloveitchik, these are interesting and exciting lectures bringing many scattered ideas into one place. Kaplan provides a wonderful introductory essay setting out and explaining the ideas in the lectures.

kaplan cover

In this volume we see Soloveitchik in his use of Isaac Husik, David Neumark  and Leo Roth to help him understand the texts of Jewish thought, and his reliance on the modern thought of Hume, Spinoza, and Bertrand Russell. We see him giving out an academic reading list to start and engage with university Jewish studies.

Soloveitchik was originally planning on writing his dissertation on Maimonides but that did not work out so instead he switched advisers to work on Hermann Cohen. But what did he plan to discuss in the original medieval dissertation? This work gives the reader a sense of what he would have written since Soloveitchik incubated his ideas for decades and remained for decades with the direction of his earliest thoughts. It seems to have been a modern reading and defense of Maimonides.

Hermann Cohen’s modern reading of Maimonides as ethical and Platonic was instrumental in the 20th century return to Maimonides and especially Soloveitchik’s understanding of Maimonides. This lectures in this volume show how Soloveitchik both used and differed with Cohen. However, the citations from Cohen in the original lectures were telegraphed, in that, Cohen was not available in English at the time and Soloveitchik was just giving the gist to audience that had not read him. This makes it harder for those who have not read Cohen recently.

Kaplan notes that Soloveitchik’s readings of Plato, Aristotle, Plotinus and Aquinas are “highly controversial” meaning that they are less confrontations with the texts of those thinkers and more the reception and rejection as found in early 20th century thinkers. His German Professors considered idealism as superseding the classics and Russell considered science and positivism as superseding the ancient. For these works, Maimonides was relegated to the medieval bin. Soloveitchik was going to save the great eagle.

In addition, the 19th century Jewish interpreters saw Maimonides as an abstract Aristotelian philosopher, and, if anything relevant, closer to Reform than Orthodoxy. The scholar George Y. Kohler showed that at the Berlin seminary they were quite ambivalent about Maimonides. In addition, the instructor in Jewish thought Isaiah Wohlgemuth at the seminary leaned in his teaching towards considering faith as absurdity- Tertullian meets Kierkegaard and Scheler.

So the point of these lectures, and probably the unwritten dissertation, was to show the continuous relevance of philosophy for the understanding of Torah and the relevance of Maimonides. The goal was also to show the importance of Torah study for Maimonides despite the explicit vision in the Guide. Much of this agenda was later set out and popularized by Soloveitchik’s students David Hartman and Isidore Twersky.

Soloveitchik sought to move the reading of Maimonides from the practical Aristotelian approach to a German idealistic higher ethic of imitating God.  According to Kaplan’s notes this reading is not really Maimonides’ own thought.

One of the bigger unexpected formulations of this volume is Soloveitchik’s presentation of a pantheistic view of God as the hesed (mercy or caritas) behind creation. As in many idealists where the world is fundamentally mental or immaterial, the world is in God -in some ways the real is the rational- but he sets this within a theistic scheme .

This pantheism led Soloveitchik to think that aspiring Torah scholars should attain a cosmic-intellectual experience and thereby identify with the world through their minds.

There lectures discuss the ascent from ecstatic prophet to the higher cosmic prophetic experience. For Soloveitchik, the goal of cosmic-intellectual prophecy is to surrender to God beyond words to an inexpressible point.

Soloveitchik distinguishes between two levels in the observance of halakhah. A lower approach where halakhah concerns obedience, duties and practical law; at this level ethics are instrumental. There is a second higher level of identifying with God and thereby with the cosmos. In the lower level there is obedience to a normative halakhah which is distinctly and qualitatively lower than having a cosmic intellectual experience where the divine is internalized as a prophetic experience in which one reaches the pinnacle of human existence.

Soloveitchik declares that halakhah is not about “how to” rather in its ideal state it is about merging into cosmos via cosmic experience to reach a higher truth into reality. (This ideal is quite unlike the way many today conceive of Soloveitchik).

Kaplan notes that these lectures present an innovative theory of fear, in which fear at that moment of cosmic consciousness generates a recoil thereby returning us to the halakhah and norms. After love and identity with God, one recoils in distance, submission and returns to the external norm.

For Soloveitchik concern for others and responsibility for fellows as hesed is the inclusion of the other in the cosmic vision. Just as God is inclusive of the world and knows the world because it is part of Him, the Talmud scholar knows about people through his universal understanding.

Kaplan points out how this is completely the opposite of Jewish thinkers such as Levinas where you actually confront the other and through the face of a real other person gains moral obligation.  (I am certain that Soloveitchik pantheistic-Idealist view of ethics will elicit some comments. )

Rav Soloveichik’s speaking style often consisted in sentence fragments and repetition of phrases, especially a repetition to return to where he left off, after a side interjection. Many times one did not know the relationship of the return to the interjection. Was it in agreement or disagreement? Unfortunately, I am not sure if this edition solved the problem in that there were many dangling sentences and lines that the reader would be unclear if it agreed or disagreed with the prior line. In addition, many of the lines in this book needed an explanatory footnote especially those concerning idealism and Hermann Cohen.  But despite these caveats, for the philosophic reader of Soloveitchik, we once again owe Kaplan gratitude for his fine work. We should also thank him for this extensive interview analyzing many of the most important issues in the work.

kaplan 2

  1. What is new in this work?

From the point of view of form, these lectures are certainly new, since until now we have never had an essay of Rav Soloveitchik [henceforth, “the Rav”], much less a book, devoted to an analysis of the Guide. But from the point of view of content, the matter is not so clear After all, the Rav discusses certain themes from the Guide at length in Halakhic Man, Halakhic Mind, and U-Vikashtem mi-Sham (And from There You Shall Seek). Also, another very important discussion of the Guide can be found in his Yiddish Teshuvah Derashah (Discourse on Repentance), “Yahid ve-Tzibbur” (“Individual and Community”) in his Yiddish volume of Essays and Discourses. The truth is that if combines what the Rav says in U-Vikashtem mi-Sham with what he says in “Yahid ve-Tzibbur,” you get much—not all—of the basic outline of the argument of these lectures. Still, there are a number of   new elements.

One point obvious, while, in another sense, new is that while the Rav in all his essays displays a great openness to scientific and philosophic thought, he never explicitly justifies such openness. In these lectures, however, the Rav finally justified his practices.  The Rav notes that Maimonides believes that non-Jews could also reach the high religious level of “serving the Lord continually.” In this connection he observes that Bahya often cites “pietists,” who turn out to be non-Jews, and similarly cites Arabic philosophers and Church Fathers. He goes on to cite Maimonides’ famous statement  “Accept the truth from whoever said it.” He also cites a passage from the Laws of the Sanctification of the New Moon to the same effect, and concludes “Maimonides is clear…we do not care who the author is.”

There are, however, three entirely new elements. First, in the lectures the Rav presents his basic argument as a response to the claim of medieval commentators on the Guide and, in the modern period, of Heinrich Graetz that Maimonides considers Halakhah (Jewish law), both its study and practice, as secondary to philosophy.

Second, though in U-Vikashtem mi-Sham the Rav maintains that according to Maimonides, “The existence of the world [is] not only caused by God, but [is] also rooted in Him,” he carefully avoids any use there of the word “pantheism.” In the lectures, by contrast, he does speak of Maimonides’ pantheism—to be sure, with certain important qualifications.  Third, the penultimate section of the book on Yirat ha-Shem, the fear of the Lord, is, to my knowledge, new, and, in important ways, it goes against what he states both in Halakhic Man and in U-Vikashtem mi-Sham.

2) Could you elaborate on the claim that Maimonides considers Halakhah as secondary to philosophy? How does R. Soloveitchik counter this approach?

This is an old objection to Maimonides. The claim is that Maimonides follows Aristotle in maintaining that knowledge is superior to morality, both moral virtue and moral action, and, furthermore, in arguing that only intellectual knowledge possesses intrinsic value, while morality possesses only instrumental worth, serving only as a steppingstone to attaining intellectual perfection. From this it would follow that Halakhah, dealing with action, is of lesser worth than science, and that Talmud Torah, that is, the study of Halakhah, is inferior to the study of the sciences.  The Rav—inaccurately by the way—quotes Graetz as stating that Maimonides in the Guide “sneered at halakhic scholarship.”

The Rav counters this objection by claiming that Maimonides distinguishes between two stages of ethics: pre-theoretical ethics, ethical action that precedes knowledge of the universe and God, and post-theoretical ethics, ethical action that follows upon knowledge of the universe and God. Pre-theoretical ethics is indeed inferior to theory and purely instrumental; however, post-theoretical ethics is ethics as the imitation of God’s divine attributes of action of Hesed (Loving Kindness), Mishpat, (Justice), and Tzedakah (Righteousness), the ethics referred to at the very end of the Guide, and this stage of ethics constitutes the individual’s highest perfection.

3) It sounds as if here Soloveitchik is just following Hermann Cohen.

The Rav, as he himself admits, takes the basic distinction between pre-theoretical ethics and post- theoretical ethics from Hermann Cohen, but his understanding of the imitation of the divine attributes of action involved in post-theoretical ethics differs from Cohen.

Cohen, following Kant’s thought, distinguishes sharply between practical and theoretical reason, ethics and the natural order, “is” and “ought.” For Cohen, God’s attributes of action do not belong to the realm of causality, but to that of purpose; they are not grounded in nature, but simply serve as models for human action.

What Cohen keeps apart, the Rav—and here he is, in my view and the view of others, for example, Avi Ravitzky and Dov Schwartz, more faithful to the historical Maimonides—brings together.  For the Rav, the main divine attribute of action is Hesed, God’s abundant lovingkindness, His “practicing beneficence toward one who has no right” to such beneficence. The prime example of Hesed, for Maimonides, is the creation of the world.  This act of creation is both an ethical act, whereby God freely wills the world into existence, and an ontological act, an overflow of divine being, whereby God brings the world into being by thinking it.  However, the Rav goes beyond what Maimonides states explicitly by maintaining that the deepest meaning of God’s Hesed is that he not only confers existence upon the world, but continuously sustains it by including the existence of reality as whole in His order of existence.

4) Is this the basis of Soloveitchik’s claim that Maimonides is a pantheist?

Yes. The Rav denies that Maimonides affirms substantive     pantheism, that is, in terms of substance there are two orders: a finite order, all reality other than God; and an infinite order, God Himself.

But he maintains that Maimonides was an ontological pantheist, inasmuch as God included the existence of reality as whole in His order of existence.  Actually—I did not make this point in my Introduction—I wonder whether the Rav might have done better to refer to Maimonides as a panentheist. Thus the Rav concludes that Maimonides agrees with the seventeenth century French Catholic philosopher, Malebranche that ontically the world exists in God, which is exactly what panentheism (All-in-God) means.

5) Why do you think that Soloveitchik felt it was so important to make this claim of pantheism?

I am not sure, but I believe it is may be motivated by his conception of what true human Hesed is. That is, formally, the Rav begins by articulating Maimonides’ conception of divine Hesed, and then maintains that human Hesed has to imitate and therefore resemble divine Hesed. But I wonder whether the Rav’s thought, in truth, proceeded in the opposite direction, that is, he began with a conception of what true human Hesed is, and then projected that conception back onto divine Hesed.

Anyway, the Rav’s argument is as follows. We can only grasp the divine Hesed and only imitate it through knowing the world in which that Hesed is manifest.  It is in this sense that the highest stage of ethics is post-theoretical, for it is based upon and follows from the knowledge of God attained through the knowledge of the cosmos. To spell this out, since God created and sustains the world through knowing it, when man knows the world, whether through philosophical knowledge or prophetic knowledge, he and God unite together, since they both have the same object—the world– as their object of thought.

More than that—and here the Rav’s interpretation of Maimonides follows that of Solomon Maimon, though, strangely enough, the Rav never cites Maimon in these lectures—in man’s every act of knowledge his finite intellect unites with the infinite divine intellect which constantly and uninterruptedly knows everything. Here, the Rav maintains, we find another type of pantheism in Maimonides, intellectual pantheism, the union of man’s finite intellect with God’s infinite intellect in the act of human knowledge.

But the real point, and, as I said, I think the motivation of all this, is that after this intellectual union with God, man first internalizes the all-embracing divine Hesed, and then imitates that Hesed in the sense that he not only helps and confers benefits upon all who are in need, but, rather, in God-like fashion, he invites them to share in, to participate in his own existence, including them in his own order of being.

Here I would contrast the Rav with Levinas. Hesed, for the Rav, is not extended to the other qua other, as Levinas would have it; but, to the contrary, it is extended to the other because he is not other, because I have made him part of myself, of my own existence. What is truly ethical is not acknowledging the otherness of individuals I interact with, but identifying with them.  And this, to repeat, constitutes the true imitation of God.

So I believe–this is yet another point I did not make in my introduction—that the Rav’s pantheistic or panentheistic reading of Maimonides’ view regarding God’s relationship to the world is motivated by what he perceives as its ethical payoff.

6) Is Soloveitchik, then, claiming that for Maimonides there is no direct knowledge of God?

Indeed, the Rav denies that for Maimonides there can be direct knowledge of God. In this way Maimonides differs, say, from Rav Kook, for whom the highest knowledge of God derives from the soul’s direct love of God as the highest good, a love not mediated through nature. As the Rav clearly says, for Maimonides the only way to know God is through knowledge of the world.

Three times in the lectures the Rav cites Maimonides’ statement in Guide 1:34 that “there is no way to apprehend [God] except through the things He has made.” Similarly, the Rav appears to understand Maimonides’ citing in Guide 3:51 the rabbinic statement that “Ben Zoma is still outside” to mean that Ben Zoma tried to attain direct knowledge of God without intellectually cognizing the universe.  To repeat, it can’t be done.

7) What is the relationship for Maimonides, as Soloveitchik understands it, between philosophical and prophetic knowledge?

For Soloveitchik, as stated earlier, when man knows the world, whether through philosophical knowledge or prophetic knowledge, he and God unite together.

As the Rav’s understands it, Maimonides’ view is that prophetic knowledge builds on philosophical knowledge, that is on the scientific knowledge of the cosmos. Or, as the Rav phrases it, first we have the pre-theoretical normative-halakhic experience, that is, the halakhic experience that precedes knowledge of the cosmos, then the cosmic-intellectual experience, and finally, building on and going beyond that cosmic-intellectual experience, the ecstatic–prophetic experience.

Sometimes the Rav emphasizes the difference between prophetic knowledge and philosophical knowledge, sometimes he blurs the distinction between the two. But there seem to be three features that characterize the ecstatic–prophetic experience as opposed to the cosmic-intellectual experience: intuition, vision, and self-surrender. The key point seems to be that while the cosmic-intellectual experience brings the individual into intellectual contact with God, the ecstatic–prophetic experience brings one into personal contact with God.

The way I understand this—the Rav never states this explicitly—is as follows. God created the world by an act of free will, and, as such, His relationship with the world is a voluntary one, and the connection between Himself and man is an ethical one. But God also created the world by an act of thought, in which case God’s relationship with man is primarily intellectual and ontological.

Ultimately these are two sides of the same coin, for, in Maimonides’ view, God’s will and wisdom are one. Still—again, this is my formulation of the Rav’s view—the philosopher who unites with God solely through the intellect focuses on God’s wisdom, on God as pure intellect, while the prophet who, in addition to uniting with God intellectually, also connects with Him via intuition, vision, and self- surrender, focuses on the personal God, whose creation of the world is a free ethical act.

8) Does Soloveitchik deprecate philosophic thought, at least in comparison to prophetic knowledge?

To an extent. But while the Rav refers to Maimonides’ alleged belief in “the insufficiency of the cosmic-intellectual experience,” nevertheless, in the Rav’s view, Maimonides is firm in affirming that this experience is a necessary stage in arriving at the ecstatic–prophetic experience.  The Rav could not be clearer that for Maimonides there is no bypassing the scientific knowledge of the cosmos.

 9) How would you answer someone who says that this book sets up each problem as goyish philosophy as opposed to Maimonides and that Maimonides is really a halakhic position? Ostensibly, this work rejects both Aristotle and Kant on most issues, leaving Maimonides as unique and as halakhic?
With reference to the Rav’s playing up Maimonides’ differences with Aristotle and (a-chronologically) with Kant, as I and other scholars have noted, one can broadly divide interpreters of Maimonides into two camps: the radicals who minimize the differences between Maimonides and the philosophers (particularly Aristotle), sometimes going so far as to deny that there are any differences; and the traditionalists, who emphasize these differences. The Rav clearly belongs in the traditionalist camp.

Still, though the Rav devotes an entire chapter to contrasting Aristotle and Maimonides, we must not forget that regarding the issue of the necessity for scientific knowledge of the cosmos, and regarding the conception of God as the unity of intellect, the subject of intellection, and the object of intellection the Rav forthrightly acknowledges that Maimonides follows in Aristotle’s wake.

I think that what the Rav objected to most in Aristotle, Plotinus, and
Spinoza was that for them God’s relationship with the world and man is one of necessity. (I am not sure if the Rav is correct about Plotinus, but this is a long story.) They, thereby, negate the possibility of an ethical relationship between God and man, which, as stated above, is possible only if God’s creation of the world was a free and therefore an ethical act. Again we see the ethical motif coming to the fore.  Perhaps in this respect, the Rav reflects the influence of Kant.

10) Is the ecstatic–prophetic experience the same thing for Soloveitchik as revelation? Does he have multiple conceptions of Maimonides’ view of revelation?

Actually, the Rav contrasts the ecstatic-prophetic experience with prophecy and revelation proper, what the Rav refers to as “apocalyptic prophecy.” To cite the lectures: “The Prophetic-Ecstatic experience… is not the apocalyptic moment of prophecy he describes in the latter chapters of Book 2 of the Guide. That moment of prophecy, where God bestows upon man a prophetic revelation, is an act of grace on God’s part. The Prophetic-Ecstatic type of prophecy that Maimonides speaks about in Guide 3:51 can be obtained by all.

In sum, there are two types of prophecy:  The apocalyptic moment of prophecy is granted to the individual by God; the Prophetic-Ecstatic experience is a state of mind.”

Another indication that the ecstatic-prophetic experience is not to be identified with prophecy proper is that sometimes the Rav refers to the ecstatic-prophetic experience as the ecstatic-mystic experience.  This is part of the emphasis in all the Rav’s works not so much on theology, but on human experience, human states of consciousness. Nevertheless, I actually think there is some basis here for the Rav’s distinction in Maimonides’ texts, though it is not so clear and neat as he would have it.

In U-Vikashtem mi-Sham, when the Rav refers to the revelational experience he is referring to “apocalyptic prophecy,” which, for him, is a supernatural phenomenon.So U-Vikashtem and the lectures are operating on two different planes. Actually, I think that, contra the Rav, all prophecy, for Maimonides is natural, but, again, that is a long story. (For Kaplan’s understanding of revelation in Maimonides – see his prior post on Maimonides on Mosaic revelation. )

Still, there may be an important difference between the lectures and U-Vikashtem. In the lectures, where the Rav speaks as an expositor of Maimonides, it is clear that no prophet, not even Moses, can bypass the cosmic-intellectual experience. In U-Vikashtem, where the Rav, though citing Maimonides, speaks in his own name, the revelational religious experience is discontinuous with what he refers to as the rational religious experience.

11) How does this respond to the objection that even if Maimonides did not “sneer at halakhic scholarship,” nevertheless in his view the study of Halakhah, is inferior to the study of the sciences.

The Rav, like a good “Brisker,” a practitioner and devotee of the analytic school of Talmud study, sharply distinguishes between the practical study of Halakhah, study in order to know how to perform the norm properly, and the conceptual and theoretical study of the Halakhah, lomdus. He grants that Maimonides deprecates the significance of the practical study of Halakhah, inasmuch as it belongs to the pre-theoretical, normative-halakhic, stage of religious experience, and, indeed, possesses only the instrumental value of enabling one to perform the commandments properly.

However, he argues that Maimonides would view lomdus, the theoretical study of the Halakhah, if carried out “in conjunction with the cosmic experience (science),” as providing a cosmic-ethical experience parallel to the cosmic-ethical experience attained in the study of the cosmos. Indeed, he claims that when Maimonides in Guide 3:52 states that the knowledge of the de‘ot, “the opinions the Torah teaches us” leads to the love of God,  he is referring not only to theoretical, metaphysical knowledge, but also to the theoretical understanding of the Halakhah.

This claim in my view lacks any textual basis in Maimonides. Still, perhaps the Rav might view his reading of Maimonides as a legitimate “updating” of Maimonides’ position.  Thus, as a number of scholars, including myself, have argued, Maimonides in the Guide appears to suggest, albeit not explicitly, that understanding the reasons for the commandments, that is, the divine wisdom inherent in the commandments, leads to the love of God. The Rav might argue that given that Maimonides’ view of nature was teleological, he viewed the wisdom inherent in the commandments in teleological terms, and thus focused in the Guide on ta‘amei  ha-mitovot, the purpose and aim of the commandments.

However, as the Rav often pointed out, modern science, as a result of the Galilean-Newtonian revolution, no longer views nature as teleological.   Rather the rationality found in nature is that of the abstract quantitative laws that parallel and thus serve to explain the particular, qualitative, natural phenomena. Following from this, the wisdom found in the commandments would not be their purpose, but the abstract legal principles that underlie the particular laws, i.e. lomdus!

But coming back to Maimonides himself, presumably, Maimonides, according to the Rav’s understanding, would not view the lomdus of Rav Hayyim Brisker, the Rav’s grandfather and the founder of the analytic school, as significant, since Rav Hayyim never studied science, and thus should be classified as one of the talmudiyyim, the unphilosophical jurists, to whom Maimonides refers in deprecating fashion in Guide 3:51, but he would approve of the Rav’s lomdus. This obviously is my own extrapolation.

12) How is Soloveitchik’s discussion of the fear of the Lord, (Yirat ha-Shem) original, and how does it goes against what he states elsewhere?

The Rav’s take on the fear of God is, in my view, the most innovative part of the lectures. In U-Vikashtem, the Rav’s discussion of the love and fear of God follows, I would say, a Mishneh Torah model. That is, in the Mishneh Torah, his great code of Jewish Law, Maimonides discusses the love and fear of God, where fear follows love, in Laws of the Foundations of the Torah 2:2, and both are necessary. However, in Laws of Repentance 10:3 he only discusses the befitting love of God and does not mention fear. The Rav—questionably, I believe—understands this to mean that the love and fear of the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah 2:2 refer to a lower form of religious experience, Hidammut, imitation of God, but at the highest level of religious experience, Devekut, cleaving to God, there is only love and no fear, as Maimonides supposedly suggests in Laws of Repentance 10:3.

The Rav’s discussion of the love and fear of God in the lectures follows, I would say, a Guide model—not surprising, since these are lectures on the Guide—and differs from his discussion in U-Vikashtem in three ways. First, as I already noted, in the lectures, according to the Rav’s reading of the Guide, imitation of God does not precede but follows upon Devekut or union with God. Second, in the Guide Maimonides discusses love in Guide 3:51 and fear in 3:52, and in the conclusion of 3:52 he sums up his discussion by speaking first of love, then of fear. As the Rav, correctly I believe, understands it, fear here is the last word, and, unlike the alleged implication from Laws of Repentance 10:3, is indispensable.

The Rav notes that in Guide 3:52 Maimonides links fear with the “actions prescribed by the Law,” or, to use the Rav’s terminology, the mitzvot ma‘asiyyot, by which the Rav seems to have in mind rituals, such as—the example is his—tzitizit (ritual fringes). How is fear connected the “actions prescribed by the Law”? The Rav links Maimonides’ discussion of fear of God in Guide 3:52 with his discussion in the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah 2:2. There Maimonides states that while love of God is the drive to know God and unite with Him, in the fear of God the individual becomes aware of his lowliness and immediately “nirta le-ahorav,” recoils backward. Thus fear reopens the gap between God and man that love or union had closed up. In this way—and this is the Rav’s main point— fear fulfills a halakhic function. Via the love of God, via uniting with Him, the individual internalizes the Law. But the danger is that by internalizing the Law the binding force of the norm will fade away. Fear, by reinstating the distance between man and God, “rehabilitates the norm,” the performance of the law on the practical level. That is, only a heteronomous norm, only a norm imposed upon man from the outside retains its force and binding authority. And this, concludes the Rav, is the meaning of the link that Maimonides in the Guide 3:52 establishes between the fear of God and the “actions prescribed by the Law.”

Here we come to the third difference between the lectures and U-Vikashtem mi-Sham, and, I would add, Halakhic Man.  In the latter essays the highest religious level that halakhic man or the man of God reaches is precisely the love of God and consequently the autonomous internalization of the laws; but in the lectures internalization must be followed by externalization, autonomy by heteronomy. Of course, in the essays the Rav speaks in his own name; in the lectures as an expositor of Maimonides. Are we to conclude that the Rav’s exposition of Maimonides in these lectures is more “halakhic” and less “philosophic” than the Rav’s own philosophy?

I should add that while this reading of the link in Guide 3:52 between the fear of God and the “actions prescribed by the Law” is very ingenious and provocative, it is exceptionally hard to maintain that it is what Maimonides had in mind. The Rav’s attempt to understand Maimonides’ discussion of fear in Guide 3:52 in light of his discussion of fear in Laws of the Foundations of the Torah 2:2 fails, in my view, to convince.  For in Guide 3:52 Maimonides sees the fear of God as being connected not with distance from God, as he does in Laws of the Foundations of the Torah 2:2, but, to the contrary, with God’s constant presence, with, to use Moshe Halbertal’s phrase, the individual’s sense of constantly being scrutinized by God. How, in fact, then, Maimonides understands the link in Guide 3:52 between the fear of God and the “actions prescribed by the Law” remains to be established, but whatever it turns out to be, it is not what the Rav had in mind.

13) You pointed to a number of places where you argued that is it difficult to uphold Soloveitchik’s interpretation as what Maimonides actually meant. Do you think this is true for Soloveitchik’s reading of the Guide more generally?

While I think that the Rav’s understanding of the cosmic-intellectual experience in Maimonides, with its focus on the cognition of the cosmos and man uniting with God through the intellect is true to the spirit of Maimonides, I think the way he attempts to broaden and deepen this concept and argue that in the ecstatic-prophetic stage the total individual establishes personal contact with God is a modernizing reading that is much too existentialist for my tastes.

Negatively speaking, the presentation of Maimonides in the lectures differs from more recent interpretations of Maimonides by the almost complete absence in it of any concern for Maimonides’ political thought and, as well, with the almost complete lack of any concern for the hermeneutic aspect of the Guide, for the Guide as a reading of both Scripture and the rabbinic tradition.

This last point is ironic, for the lectures begin with a lengthy analysis of why Maimonides began the Guide with the verse “In the name of God, the Lord of the world” (Gen. 21:33).  In that connection, the Rav very presciently observes that Maimonides “in quoting a verse… casts off philosophic routine and jargon, and we can gain a more intimate glimpse of him. Maimonides’ citations of biblical verses and rabbinic midrashim throw new light on his thought.”  Prof. James Diamond couldn’t have said it better! But, alas, the Rav does not follow up on this insight.

Hukkat, Noam Elimelech and Levinas

Here is an interesting Dvar Torah by a classmate of mine from YU. In it, he juxtaposes Noam Elimelech and Levinas on distance bring one closer to God (and in the full version explians why it is different than Rabbi Soloveitchik who accepts distance as the normal state of things). This is clearly drush, in an oral style, in which I do not expect the details to sustain close scrutiny. But it would be nice to hear more derashot that attempt to bring in contemporary thought. Anyone has any good sermons to report? Can the community sustain such homiletic devices? My Christain readers- heard any good philosophic sermons lately?

Hukkat: The Red Heifer Ritual- Distance Bringing You Closer

The ceremony, in days when the Temple stood, involved the ashes of a red heifer, which were reconstituted by the priest with purified water and sprinkled upon the individual or object that needed purification.
This ceremony is uniquely bizarre and the Torah itself identifies it as such, in the opening verse of the section, labeling the ceremony as a Hukka, traditionally translated as a “law which is beyond any kind of sense or interpretation”

The early Hassidic master Noam Elimelech, R. Elimelech of Lizensk suggests that the word hukka does not mean a law that is inexplicable, as commonly translated, but in fact the term is derived from a different etymology entirely, from the homonymous verb, lahkok, which means to engrave; that is, performance of this ritual causes a message to be engraved upon ones heart. That message which must be engraved upon ones heart is not, however, specified in that particular teaching.

The NE notes that the phrase distance appears in other texts dealing with sublime spiritual moments, for example, in the episode of the binding of Isaac, we are told that at the third day, at the height of the spiritual challenge, Abraham sees the place from a distance. Thus there is implied a connection between distance and the spiritual.

The NE suggests that the red heifer text is really about teshuva, repentance, the coming closer to Gd. It is the nature of the dialectic of coming close, that nearness so often reveals distancing. When one makes the effort to come closer, to abrogate past spiritual failings (the contact with death signifying the ultimate cessation of the spiritual in this worldly affairs), then Gd draws the individual closer in a reciprocated move. However, once one attains such heights of spiritual insight one then realizes how far the individual is from Gd in every way. This distance does not imply a rebuff on the part of Gd, in fact, the opening of this divide is meant as an invitation to cross over to an even higher spiritual understanding, which by the nature of these things would lead to an even more humbling recognition of the chasm in between, which, one presumes, would continue infinitely, sort of like the differential in calculus.

I was startled by the similarity between the Hassidic paradox of distance and the summation of Levinas’ work Totality and Infinity. The “infinity” referred to in the title is the endless number of worlds, of possibilities one can achieve when one begins to perceive of the Other as entirely different from oneself. Levinas then defines:

This distance is then the route to which endless possibilities of human existence present themselves Distance with regard to being, by which the existent exists in truth, is produced as time and as consciousness, or again, as anticipation of the possible. The structure of consciousness or of temporality-of distance and truth-results from an elementary gesture of the being that refuses totalization. In fecundity (to Levinas, the ultimate Othering which is transformative of the self, when being open to all the possibilities one opens towards the future, is that of the relation of parent and child, which he labels fecundity) distance with regard to being is not only provided in the real; it consists in a distance with regard to the present itself. The discontinuous time of fecundity makes possible an absolute youth and recommencement. This recommencement of the instant, this triumph of the time of fecundity over the beginning of the mortal and aging being, is a pardon, the very work of time.

Note the introduction of the concept of pardon, which plays a role similar to that of teshuva in the Noam Elimelech. Pardon acts as a retroaction, an ability to redetermine the meaning of the past in such a way as to open whole new futures. In fact, contra Heidegger, death is not the finitude of being that constitutes the essence of time but rather is an unknown, which is, in a sense, transcended by fecundity-
…the fact and the justification of time consist in the recommencement it makes possible in the resurrection, across fecundity, of all the compossibles sacrificed in the present.
Thus we see a structural similarity, whereby the act of achieving pardon, helps transcends the gap of Otherness which in turn opens up a whole realm of new possibilities of being. It is the experience of the distances themselves which bring about this transformation. What appears to be a distance actually grounds the closest truth to ones own being, in Levinas labelled “fecundity”.
These are the hukkot, the inexplicable distances, reehuk, we experience, that leave their traces at the most intimate, the most close, or in the words of Chazel, that chakaku, engrave themselves upon our hearts.
Mark H. Kirschbaum, MD, Dept of Hematology and Stem Cell Transplantation, City of Hope National Cancer Center, Duarte, CA,
Read the whole version here.

Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz on avoiding harm

I am teaching Jewish ethics next semester and am now on the lookout for all things pertaining to the topic. So be prepared for some of the recent books on the topic to show up here- Elliott Dorff, Jonathan Sacks, Jill Jacobs and adaptations of Levinas. I am finding little meta-ethical discussion that has been written since the early 1980s. Everything has been denominational biased professional topics like medical “ethics”. There was no response to Rawls and Sandel the way there was a response to Kant, Gustafson, and Hare in the 1970’s and early 1980’s. So expect me to discuss, time permitting, some Hilary Putnam, Appiah, and Zygmunt Bauman.
In the mean time, here is another op-ed by Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz. This time he has a nice use of WD Ross on pluralistic deontology (Wurzburger would be proud) and a nice understanding of rule deontology, which make a nice rubric for dealing with Rabbinic ethics. I wish the article had been titled Jewish ethics and not Jewish law because the supply side and libertarian readings of halakhah are not rule-deontology. The op-ed gets in a nice swipe at ascribing teleology to situations that call for responsibility and there is a virtue ethic yearning for articulation between the lines of the op-ed. Thoughts? more successful than last week? And interconnectedness of all beings is a different line of thought than deontology-are they able to be combined?

The BP Oil Spill, Personal Responsibility and Jewish Law
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz

The Jewish concept relating to a case of mass public damage is “harkhakat nezikin” – the requirement that one not partake in any activities that might cause damage to other people or their property. A primary argument that emerges from the halakhic commentators (Shulkhan Arukh 155:33) is whether one is culpable when he or she indirectly causes a single accident (gerama) after following the correct safety procedures in the same way that one who continuously causes direct damage is liable.

Religion, at its worst, can be used to eliminate human agency and responsibility. Texas Governor Rick Perry invoked a morally deficient appeal to religious language last month when he called the Gulf oil spill “an act of G-d.” While we can debate G-d’s presence in the world, we need not debate the issue of human responsibility and culpability.

A primary charge of the Jewish social justice tradition is the demand that we learn both how to limit our damage and how to hold ourselves and others who cause damage accountable. Religious life, lived at its best, shapes a discourse of public responsibility and calls on us to pay close attention to public policy as well as our everyday spills.

Prior to our question of maximizing the good, we must be concerned with avoiding harm. “Sur mei’rah v’aseh tov” – the Jewish antidote is to turn from evil and then do good. This is what the philosopher W.D. Ross in his “pluralistic deontology” calls a “duty of beneficence” (to help others) and a “duty of non-maleficence” (to avoid harming others). These duties to prevent indirect damage are also present in everyday activities that we might not contextualize as being moral issues.

The Talmud (Shabbat 54b) teaches that anyone who can protest a wrong in one’s home, one’s city, or in the world and does not do so is held accountable for that wrong as well.

Full version Here.

Is God a Delusion? A Reply to Religion’s Cultured Despisers

The books by the new atheists were widely read and eye opening for those raised in the prior decades of religious certainty but they garnered little praise from professional philosophers. Everyone has heard the arguments before in Bertram Russel’s “Why I am not a Christian” Tom Paine’s delightful Age of Reason, and the Joseph Lewis’ less delightful The Bible Unmasked. Most of the cultured responses were snarky or dismissive to the atheists as not knowing the history of ideas.

But now we have an interesting new volume that answers the new atheists as part of a book designed for an undergraduate introduction to philosophy course or introduction to religion, God a Delusion? A Reply to Religion’s Cultured Despisers by Eric Reitan. The book won an award as an outstanding academic work. It does not refute the atheists as much as use them to open the discussion about Anselm, Aquinas, and Schleiermacher. I am always on the lookout for good “teaching” books. This one looks like it would be appropriate for the right class, bothered by these problems. It would be a good introduction for those who only know the popular literature. It would also be useful for someone trying to explain Saadya and Maimonidean theism to a contemporary fideist.

Is God a Delusion? A Reply to Religion’s Cultured Despisers

Eric Reitan’s latest book, Is God a Delusion? A Reply to Religion’s Cultured Despisers was named an Outstanding Academic Title of 2009. Here he tells us how he was motivated to write the book partly in response to the misrepresentations of religious thought he discovered in Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion, but also by a very personal desire to reconcile his deep intuitions about ultimate reality with open intellectual inquiry.

Why did you decide to write Is God a Delusion?
Eric Reitan: One day a few years ago, a colleague of mine handed me a photocopied page from a book, without any identifying information, and asked me to evaluate it as I would a student paper. On that page the unknown author attempted to summarize and then critique the first three of Aquinas’ “Five Ways” for proving God’s existence. I say “attempted” because the author got the arguments wrong and then critiqued them at precisely the points of misunderstanding.

As it turns out, that page was taken from Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion. And so I became curious about the book and bought a copy. By the time I was finished I found myself thinking, “You know, I could write an entire introduction to the philosophy of religion just by noting what Dawkins has to say about classic questions in the field, pointing out his oversights and errors, and then introducing the reader to the more developed ideas of great thinkers.

What’s the central concern of the book, and why is it important?
ER: Is God a Delusion? addresses the range of new atheist challenges to religion, not for the purely negative aim of exposing their shortcomings, but for the more productive purpose of trying to identify the parameters within which religion can be both intellectually respectable and morally benign. I’m surprised at how often the book has been mistakenly dubbed an apologetic response to the new atheists…and then criticized as a poor example of apologetics because it fails to defend the kind of religion that the new atheists are attacking. But my aim in the book was never to defend what the new atheists attack, but rather to show that their objections to theistic religion are not as sweeping as the new atheists present them as being. That is, there is a way to believe in God, a way to live a life of religious faith, that does not fall prey to new atheist objections.

To a lesser extent, I also wanted to explore where and how religion goes wrong. Why is it that religion as we encounter it in the world so regularly strays outside the parameters of reasonableness and moral decency? Unlike the new atheists, I don’t think the answer lies in something essential to religion itself. Rather, I think it is the result of certain common human failings—such things as the need for certainty even where certainty can’t be had, and the propensity to find meaning and self-worth through membership in groups that define themselves against opposing groups.

And what is it that draws you to this topic?
This juxtaposition led me on a personal struggle of sorts—the struggle to find religion characterized not only by a sincere desire to live in connection with the transcendent but also by the values I couldn’t set aside: intellectual openness and honesty, compassion, and a respect for fellow humanity that reaches across the differences that so often separate us. My search for the former brought me first into a deep flirtation with modes of religion that challenged the latter—which isn’t surprising, since my most powerful religious influence during childhood had been my mother’s father, with whom I shared a special bond but who was a preacher in a tradition that tended towards exclusivism and suspicion of free thought.

In any event, that personal struggle has made me deeply interested in the issues I explore in the book. I’ve experienced first hand and struggled personally with the notion, so characteristic of much of the contemporary public discourse on religion, that we must choose between masters: religion or science, faith or reason, God or our fallible human conscience. In my personal life I traced out in intuitive terms a path between these false dichotomies. In Is God a Delusion?, my aim is to trace out that same path on a more intellectual level.
What sort of reaction do you hope it will get?

ER: At this point, it’s hard to separate my hopes from the actual reactions the book has already generated. I was deeply gratified, of course, that Is God a Delusion? was named a Choice Outstanding Academic Title of 2009, and I’ve been thrilled every time a philosopher or theologian in some other part of the world contacted me to express appreciation for the book. This kind of response from the academic world is in many ways more than I could have hoped for.

The response from atheist readers has been mixed, but in many ways pretty well tracks what I was hoping to do with the book in relation to that audience. Some atheist readers have found in the book a development of a species of religion they can respect even if they don’t agree with it—and then engaged me in stimulating discussions about key points of disagreement.

What sort of audience did you have in mind when you wrote it?
But I also hope that the book can be profitably used in undergraduate philosophy of religion courses. Although it’s no longer the introduction to the philosophy of religion I had originally intended to write, much of that original idea still shapes the book. I suspect that philosophy of religion teachers will notice very quickly that the topics I cover are some of the staple issues in the field, as are many of the thinkers I discuss. In fact, in my own philosophy of religion course I’ve been pairing my book with The God Delusion and a traditional philosophy of religion anthology, basically with the aim of doing what I’d originally thought to do in the book—and it has proved to be very successful in getting students to see the relevance of philosophical work to issues of contemporary significance. Also, it just makes the course more fun.
Is there another book you wish you could claim credit for?
I also find so much to admire in Charles Taylor’s short and accessible treatment of William James’ religious thought, Varieties of Religion Today, that I’d love to claim credit for it.

Read the whole interview here.

50 Philosophy Blogs

Here is a nice list of 50 philosophy blogs. It has all the best ones Some are single author professional academics like the Leiter Report, others are multi-author academic like PEA soup, and Continental Philosophy blog is an essential bulletin board. Warning:Some of the blog have little patience for non-philosophers and some of them will eat a religious apologist alive. On the other hand, the Evangelical blogs are devoted to warrant to believe and justifying their epistemology.

Update:
oops – the links to the 15 dont work- so you have to go to the original source.
I dont have time to find the problem.

Enjoy
Here is the list of all 50 Philosophy Blogs.

Below are a sample of fifteen of them

1. Leiter Reports: A Philosophy Blog
Brian Leiter at the University of Chicago blogs frequently on subjects pertaining to philosophies – both the figures behind them and the people who enjoy spending time interpreting their meanings.
2. Experimental Philosophy
Read the ideologies and news stories behind experimental philosophy through the writings of a wonderful and diverse plethora of contributors.
3. Think Tonk
Clayton Littlejohn digs deeply into philosophy, politics, and how the 2 different subjects influence and come to be influenced by the other.
4. Continental Philosophy
Because “continental philosophy” covers ideologies from Europe (sans the British Isles), this blog and bulletin board provides diverse content from underneath that particular label.
5. Life in the Dream
Dr. Gregory Tucker blends Buddhism and other “Eastern” philosophies with traditional psychotherapy to present some very intriguing insights into the nature of reality, perception, and suffering.
7. Philosophy Talk
Philosophy Talk is a blog and a podcast for anyone who wants to try and make sense of how other people make sense of the world. They cover a wide spectrum of topics that illustrate philosophy’s role in human existence, including politics, business, social constructs, and more.
8. Philosophy’s Other: Theory on the Web
To borrow a phrase from Eugene Hütz, Philosophy’s Other could very well be considered the “super theory for supereverything.” It covers mankind’s perceptions of tops as diverse as architecture, psychology, and rhetoric in addition to discussing journal publications and conferences.
10. PEA Soup
Myriad diverse contributors gaze into how humanity processes the ins and outs of existence, ethics, and academia with the hopes of facilitating rewarding, intellectual discussions in its readers.
14. Thoughts Arguments and Rants
5 authors regularly weigh in on a variety of different philosophical topics, frequently looking into political and social issues along the way.
15. philosophy bites
David Edmonds and Nigel Warburton host a podcast and a blog emphasizing the ideas and movements supported by the biggest names in philosophy today..
21. Certain Doubts
Affiliated with Baylor University, the Certain Doubts blog concerns itself with any and all topics relating back to epistemology.
23. Epistemic Value
Anyone searching for knowledge regarding knowledge and meaning would do well to catch up with the writings (and events!) featured on this blog.
24. It’s Only A Theory
Science and philosophy aficionados must bookmark It’s Only A Theory to read up on all the latest news and views regarding how the two intertwine.
34. Larval Subjects
The concept behind this philosophy blog certainly piques a fair amount of interest. Rather than peering into and trying to make sense of the old, Larval Subjects seeks to explore and develop new philosophies from new, very small kernels of ideas..
41. The Prosblogion
All religious philosophies exist as some of the most controversial, subjective, and complex topics for debate, and The Prosblogion does not shy away from addressing any of the ones that ever have and ever will crop up.

Most important Post-WWII thought and Judaism

As you read the list, which ones influenced Judiasm and which did not? Kuhn has not been used to discuss change, we usually still find the 19th century views of Hegel or von Savigny. From the comments here and elsewhere, we desperately needed a Jewish follower of Rawls in 1990. Most people did not need Post-modernism or literary criticism, but they did need an updated, beyond Dewey, rational approach which Rawls would have provided. Dworkin is used by Halbertal- people here are still jumping to Robert Cover for the role of ethics in halakhah, when what they really need is Dworkin. Wittgenstein is part of the Orthodox intellectual’s toolkit but no substantive engagement. MacIntyre is converted into virtue drush. There is still time for Searle’s Speech Acts or Taylor’s ever-changing self to find a Jewish voice. Feyerabend is too much to hope for. Nevertheless, I am forever amazed when rabbis who pride themselves that they are contemporary philosophers who quote Dewey or James as their last significant thinker.

The Most Cited Books in Post-WWII Anglophone Philosophy According to Google Scholar (in parentheses:  total number of on-line articles and books citing the book in question):

1.  Thomas Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (37,197)

2.  John Rawls, A Theory of Justice (26,768)

3.  Ronald Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously (7,892)

4.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (7,169)

5.  Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (6,579)

6.  Gilbert Ryle, The Concept of Mind (6,356)

6.  John Rawls, Political Liberalism (6,352)

8.  Robert Nozick, Anarchy, State, and Utopia (6,246)

8.  H.L.A. Hart, The Concept of Law (6,212)

10.  Richard Rorty, Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature (5,616)

11.  John Searle, Speech Acts (5,387)

12. Jerry Fodor, Modularity of Mind (5,050)

13.  Daniel Dennett, Consciousness Explained (4,810)

14. Saul Kripke, Naming and Necessity (4,535)

14. W.V.O. Quine, Word and Object (4,565)

Runners-up:   Paul Feyerabend, Against Method (4,420); Richard Rorty, Contingency, Irony and Solidarity (4,011); Charles Taylor, Sources of the Self (3,233); Jerry Fodor, The Language of Thought (3,292); Carl Hempel, Aspects of Scientific Explanation (3,137); David Chalmers, The Conscious Mind (3,065), Daniel Dennett, The Intentional Stance (2,985); Derek Parfit, Reasons and Persons (2,972).