"Postmodern" Chagigah 3b?

Chagigah 3b

THE WORDS OF THE WISE ARE LIKE GOADS, AND LIKE NAILS WELL PLANTED [ARE THE SAYINGS] OF THE MASTERS OF ASSEMBLIES, GIVEN FROM ONE SHEPHERD [Ecclesiastes 12:11]. WHY ARE THE WORDS OF TORAH LIKENED TO A GOAD? TO TEACH YOU that JUST AS THIS GOAD DIRECTS THE COW ALONG ITS FURROWS IN ORDER TO BRING FORTH LIFE TO THE WORLD, SO TOO, THE WORDS OF TORAH DIRECT THEIR STUDENTS FROM THE PATHS OF DEATH TO THE PATHS OF LIFE. IF the words of Torah are likened to a goad, one might think that JUST AS THIS GOAD IS MOVABLE, SO TOO, THE WORDS OF TORAH ARE MOVABLE. To teach otherwise SCRIPTURE STATES: like NAILS. But IF the words of Torah are likened to nails, one might think that JUST AS THIS NAIL DIMINISHES AND DOES NOT INCREASE the object or wall into which it is driven, SO TOO, THE WORDS OF TORAH DIMINISH AND DO NOT INCREASE those who observe them. To teach otherwise SCRIPTURE STATES: WELL PLANTED. That is, JUST AS THIS PLANT IS FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLIES, SO TOO, THE WORDS OF TORAH cause one to be FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLY.

R'Elazar ben Azaryah continues to expound upon the verse Ecclesiastes, which now speaks metaphorically: THE MASTERS OF ASSEMBLIES -- THESE ARE THE WISE SCHOLARS WHO SIT IN VARIOUS GROUPS AND OCCUPY themselves WITH the study of TORAH. There are THOSE scholars who DECLARE a thing ritually CONTAMINATED AND there are THOSE who PRONOUNCE it CLEAN; THOSE who PROHIBIT AND THOSE who PERMIT; THOSE who DISQUALIFY AND THOSE who DECLARE FIT. PERHAPS A MAN WILL SAY: HOW CAN I EVER LEARN TORAH and understand it precisely, when every issue is subject to debate and disagreement? To allay this concern, SCRIPTURE STATES that ALL the various Rabbinic opinions are GIVEN FROM ONE SHEPHERD. ONE GOD GAVE THEM; ONE LEADER PROCLAIMED THEM FROM THE MOUTH OF THE MASTER OF ALL MATTERS, BLESSED IS HE, AS IS WRITTEN, AND GOD SPOKE ALL THESE WORDS. Hence, YOU TOO MAKE YOUR EAR LIKE A MILL-HOPPER, AND ACQUIRE FOR YOURSELF A DISCERNING HEART TO HEAR intelligently THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO DECLARE a thing IMPURE AND THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO PRONOUNCE it PURE; THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO PROHIBIT AND THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO PERMIT; AND THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO DISQUALIFY AND THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO DECLARE FIT.

Just a few lines later is this wonderful question from R' Eliezer:

WHAT NOVEL TEACHING [HIDDUSH] WAS expounded IN THE STUDY HALL TODAY?

These fabulous words from Chagigah 3b are seemingly 1400 years ahead of their time as they seemingly present a postmodern view of multiple meanings. But I belive that the Talmud is able to walk this fine line far better than the postmodern philosophies that emerged in the 20th century. Most of these philosophies have left of with a seemingly meaningless world, while the Talmud intends and succeeds to leave us with an infinitely meaningful world.

Rav Michael Rosensweig in his essay, Personal Initiative and Creativity in 'Avodat Hashem, discusses this passage from Chagigah and the Maharal's discussion of this issue and he writes:

In essence then, what emerges from the Maharal once again, is the doctrine of multiple truths, significant especially outside the area of pesak, and related to individual intellect and the capacity of each individual to discern the complexity and subtlety which exists in every aspect of life.

Still, how is it possible for there to be multiple truths, but only one pesak? The Maharal argues that while there may be multiple truths, all truths are not equal. Life is complex and everything created does obtain of more than one combination of different components. So, for example, it is possible for an object to possess a sense of tum'ah, but its sense of taharah overwhelms the tum'ah.

Happy New Year -- May your 2009 be filled with peace, love and joy and many new discoveries and hiddushim.

The Benefit of the Doubt . . . Madoff

Here is a comment that I added to the Hirhurim blog discussion regarding the NYT article on the Madoff scandal:

I am hoping that at some point we understand why he did it. I recall reading in the Chofetz Chaim about the importance of giving the benefit of the doubt.

It seems clear that Madoff created the Ponzi scheme, but I wonder why. Did he start out with a legitimate fund with which he wanted to support important causes, etc. and then get into trouble? And was then unable to admit his mistakes, which created the need for the scheme. If this were the case, it would be more pride than greed. Perhaps we will never know, but it might be helpful to ask the question.

I know there is a famous story about Rabbi Akiva, who went to great lengths to believe his employer, Rabbi Eliezer ben Hurkanos -- http://www.thejewisheye.com/gosh.html.

I find great lessons from this ability to see the best in others.

Love, Revelation, Christ . . . . Torah?

As may be clear if one wanders around this blog, I have a variety of interests. In fact, my changing interests often drive me crazy, as I move from topic to topic, tradition to tradition. Just yesterday I found an article by professor Antonio Lopez from the John Paul II Institute. I have been interested in his classes and also over the summer purchased his book entitled, Spirit's Gift: The Metaphysical Insight of Claude Bruaire.

The article was entitled ETERNAL HAPPENING: GOD AS AN EVENT OF LOVE. I was very excited to read it, because it was focused on the work of Hans Urs von Balthasar, one of my favorite authors, while also mentioning Martin Heidegger (another favorite).

Here is the opening paragraph from Father Lopez's article:

In order to ponder anew the mystery of love, without which man’s “life remains senseless” and “incomprehensible,” I would like to appeal in this essay to Balthasar’s understanding of God as an “eternal happening.” This insight attempts to bring together what the Triune God reveals of himself in Jesus Christ: he reveals himself as love (1 Jn 4:16), and as a love that is both an eternal being (esse) and an eternal event (Ereignis, Geschehen). In Christ, man has come to learn that love is not a transient emotion, but rather the mystery that encompasses all of being: from the moment when there was nothing but God (Gn 1:1) to the present instant in which man lives out his existence (2 Cor 5:14–15). The essence of being is love. Everything and everyone finds its proper place within this eternal mystery. At the same time, the Incarnate Word has disclosed that the mystery of love that constitutes us (Jn 1:3; Col 1:15–20) is pure gift of himself. Divine love is an ever-new gift of himself to himself (Hingabe) and an undeserved gift of himself to us (Eph 2:4; Rom 8:32). God is an event of love.

While I was excited about this opening, I later felt that Fr. Lopez makes the same move that von Balthasar often does in the sense that after beautifully describing God as love and discussing many of the philosophical issues surrounding it (with far more expertise than I ever could), he then states that the only way we can know this about God is through Jesus Christ (God's speaking about God's self).

Here is a paragraph in which he does that:

To be able to say something about God’s eventful nature without claiming first to hollow out its mystery and then to explain it away, all by the sole means of the fragile tool of human logic, it is necessary to approach the divine mystery by way of the access the divine mystery itself grants: that is, by way of the only mediator between God and humankind, Jesus Christ (1 Tm 2:5–6). There can be no speech about God apart from what the person of Christ reveals of God. What theology manages to express about the godhead, then, will be adequate only if it is rooted in his self-manifestation and not in conceptual logic.

While I understand the distinction with Eastern traditons, such as Buddhism that does not have a belief in a revelatory Creator God and with atheistic systems like Marxism or even purely negative theologies, I am not sure how Father Lopez and my beloved von Balthasar can make this leap to say that Christ is the only revelatory communication from God. What about Judaism and Islam (which I know very little about)?

Isn't the Torah (and all that that word includes: Written Torah - Torah she-bi-khtav and Oral Torah - Torah she-be-`al peh) the revelation of God's love for us? I think the leap to Jesus is fine for one who is already a believer, but as one who struggles with his faith, and one who finds much wisdom within Judaism and philosophy itself, this leap to Jesus seems too fast and too easy. Thereby, undermining the arguments.

I would love to hear others' thoughts.

Halakhah believes that there is only one world

From Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik's Lonely Man of Faith

The Halakhah believes that there is only one world—not divisible into secular and hallowed sectors—which can either plunge into ugliness and hatefulness, or be roused to meaningful, redeeming activity, gathering up all latent powers into a state of holiness. Accordingly, the task of the covenantal man is to be engaged not in dialectical surging forward and retreating, but in uniting the two communities into one community where man is both the creative, free agent, and the obedient servant of God.

Talmud as love letter

Some more early thoughts about the Talmud:

A story about Rav Soloveitchik says that he said he learned the most important thing in life from his mother – “to feel the presence of the Almighty and the gentle pressure of God’s resting upon my frail shoulders.”

Thoughts of the day during my reading of the Talmud: 1) I am amazed at the enormous effort that is spent to try to understand and live out the rules set down by God. This is about what happens when someone enters a house that is afflicted with impurity, which can make one tamei – impure.

But if HE WAS WEARING HIS GARMENTS AND HIS SHOES WERE ON HIS FEET AND HIS RINGS WERE ON HIS FINGER – then HE BECOMES TAMEI [impure] IMMEDIATELY. – BUT THEY [his garments, shoes and rings] REMAIN TAHOR [pure] UNTIL HE LINGERS in the house THE AMOUNT OF TIME THAT IT TAKES TO EAT A HALF-LOAF – of WHEAT BREAD RATHER THAN BARLEY BREAD – eaten while he is RECLINING AND EATING, the bread together WITH a RELISH.

Rashi’s commentary then says, “The ‘half-loaf’ is the amount of bread a person normally eats at one meal, for the reference is to a standard two-meal loaf . . . Wheat bread is eaten more quickly
than barley bread, and that which is eaten in a reclining position is eaten quickly, since the person concentrates fully on the food and does not divert his attention to other things. Similarly, eating the bread together with a relish hastens its consumption.”

When I view these efforts, often torturous efforts, to understand and “follow” the rules “correctly,” I sometimes think how could a loving God want people to struggle so much to understand and in so many cases “fear” God and God’s commandments?

Yet, what struck me today, was that I could also see these struggles as the attempt of a lover to decipher and understand and cherish a love letter. If one sees the Torah (Written and Oral) as this love letter from God, which is not simple and not perfectly clear because of the human agents necessary to create it [and I now would add -- because of the importance that Hashem placed on creativity] – then these struggles to interpret, to understand, to live out – are expressions of profound love and faithfulness.

Then when we study in this way and strive to hang onto every word, every nuance, every clue – these are the efforts of the lover striving to please and love his/her beloved.

It seems to me additional profundity comes when one can also see all of creation and each moment as another Torah, another opportunity to understand and respond to the actions and messages of our beloved.

Early notes about my first volume of the Talmud

A number of years ago I was keeping a fairly regular journal and tonight when I was looking for some quotes about the Talmud, found this that made me smile. So I thought I would share it:

I just got my first volume of the Talmud in the mail yesterday -- and this tractate is about kosher and non-kosher animals at a truly "talmudic" level -- the first page of the tractate I have is about whether an animal is okay to eat if it has been born during the kosher slaughtering process. Why do I care, not being Jewish or keeping kosher? What fasicinates me is sitting with Rebbes as they discuss and struggle to understand God's intentions. Their striving and struggling is so determined, so serious, so multi-sided that it is a marvel to dwell within this atmosphere of debate and dialogue.

For them God is truly present and interested in every element and moment of life.

Rav Michael Rosensweig on Abraham

Rav Michael Rosensweig has been presenting a series of shiurim on Abraham:

• The Emunah of Avraham Avinu Part 1
• The Emunah of Avraham Avinu Part 2
• The Transition from Avraham to Yitzchak to Yaakov

In these talks he moves from Avraham's emunah (faith) to yireh (fear) and ahavah (love) and how each is individual and yet intertwined, particularly fear and love. In each presentation, he makes clear the uniqueness and importance of Abraham to the Jewish people and all people.

Hopefully, Rav Rosensweig will continue this exploration.

"Pray continually" with the help of my iPod and Rav Rosensweig

It has been a long time since I have posted anything, which hopefully I will comment on later. I just had the idea this morning about the concept of "praying continually," which comes from Paul's 1 Thessalonians 5:17, but resonates with most religious traditions I believe.

For example, I believe the Zen tradition encourages a being present in the moment, whether one is walking or driving or doing the dishes, which has a sense of "praying continually."

But I want to talk about how listening to Rav Michael Rosensweig can help me accomplish this -- at least striving to be present to devar Hashem at many moments (even if not "continually"). I often begin listening to the Gittin class first thing in the morning and then on the way to work and back home again, and any time I go for a walk or do various chores around the house. While I should certainly give the shiurim more focused and concentrated time, I find having Rav Rosensweig's analysis and creativity with me so much is quite rewarding.

I have tried to find other sources of this type of constant inspiration or exploration, but have found works like the Catholic Divine Office, which contains prayer, song and reading, as something that just doesn't connect with me. I have also listened to many other talks from the Buddhist tradition, but for me they lack the passion and creativity of the Rav Rosensweig's shiurim. I have even tried philosophy lectures on iTunes U or poetry from Pennsound, but they don't give me that constant, non-stop drive.

While there are obviously, many, many other shiurim on http://www.yutorah.org/, I must declare that Rav Rosensweig is my Rebbe. And like te tradition states, I can learn much from simply being around the rebbe (of course for me, "being around" is been 5,000 miles away and listening on my iPod). Simply listening to the energy and the non-stop exploration, creativity and the commitment to a maximalist spirituality, I learn much and am inspired much.

Rav Rosensweig is back and learning Gittin

Well the summer must be over, because YU is back in session. While I have had a nice summer, I realize that I have been looking forward to Rav Michael Rosensweig beginning his shiur. Even though there are still hours and hours and hours of his shiurim online, there is something about following along "live."

As Rav Rosensweig began to discuss Gittin, he asked a fundamental question -- why is Geirushin (divorce) even permitted? As we all know Judaism does not shy away from defining strict regulations for behavior, as the 613 mitzvas make clear. And in fact, Rav Rosensweig often talks about how one should strive for a maximalist approach to halachah and in the conduct of our lives.

So, why divorce? As you all probably know the Catholic Church does not permit divorce, but instead may "annul" a marriage (basically treat it like it never happened) in some situations. I should know, having been married in the Church over 30 years ago, but divorced a few years later. Therefore, officially not permitted to receive the sacraments. I also wonder if I tried to really get in full graces with the Church through an annullment now, if it would be possible, since I am no longer in touch in anyway with my former wife. To me this is a system that simply doesn't work, which is why Rav Rosensweig's question intrigues me.

So, if we wanted to really be maximalist . . . why not forbid divorce?

While there are a number of answers that Rav Rosensweig discusses, in his own approach he describes how he sees the institution of geirushin as something that in reality helps retain the sanctity and sacredness of marriage, by allowing an out for people, if needed (certainly not encouraged). This "safety value" or "exit clause" helps preserve the choice, the union and the kedusha of the marriage, it does not destroy it.

This line of reasoning, reminded me of some of the Kiddushin shiurim I have listened to from Rav Rosensweig, in which he describes how erusin and nesuin (the two steps of a Jewish marriage that in former times were often separated by about a year of time, but now take place on the wedding day) where introduced by Moses to bring more sanctity to the institution of marriage as compared to those societies around the Jews.

What is clear to me is the importance of marriage for Rav Rosensweig and the tradition as a whole and what a wonderful insight to our human reality, that divorce used responsibily can truly enhance the bonds and faithfulness of marriage and not simply tear it apart.

I am glad he is back . . .

The Humility Of The Journey

I just downloaded this lovely article "The Humility Of The Journey" about one Orthodox rabbi's decision to a Rabbinical Association fellowship that included Reform and Conservative rabbis. In this short piece he writes:

The Torah commands us not to make an idol. An idol, explains the Mei haShiloach, is something which is carved in stone or cast in iron. It has very exact dimensions and clear boundaries; it is solid and unchanging. Don’t make your understanding of Torah into an idol, warns the Mei haShiloach. Don’t reduce Torah to a clear, static and unequivocal package that you can carry around on your shoulder. Never think that your present understanding of Torah is the full and final authorized version.

And why not? Because, according to Rav Mordechai Yosef of Izbich, the author of the Mei haShiloach, God gave us only a partial glimpse of his truth when he revealed the Torah at Sinai, in order that we spend our lives in an eternal search for additional pieces of the puzzle. God wants us to be on a quest, to be involved in a process. We must never rest on our laurels, must never let the Torah become static. The Torah that we know, Torat Haim, the Torah of life, is to always be alive, to always be dynamic, growing and developing. When we think we know it all and there is nothing more to learn, we have reduced our Torah to an idol, a mere graven image. Paradoxically, when we think we have it all, that is when we have lost it all.

I find these words capture very beautifully one the most attractive things I experience in the Talmud.

Infinite and wonderful life

In his editorial entitled, "The Luxurious Growth" from July 15, 2008, New York Times columnist, David Brooks writes:

[S]cience finds itself enmeshed with social science and the humanities in what researchers call the Gloomy Prospect, the ineffable mystery of why people do what they do.

The prospect may be gloomy for those who seek to understand human behavior, but the flip side is the reminder that each of us is a Luxurious Growth. Our lives are not determined by uniform processes. Instead, human behavior is complex, nonlinear and unpredictable. The Brave New World is far away. Novels and history can still produce insights into human behavior that science can’t match.

...

This age of tremendous scientific achievement has underlined an ancient philosophic truth — that there are severe limits to what we know and can know; that the best political actions are incremental, respectful toward accumulated practice and more attuned to particular circumstances than universal laws.

In reading these lines this morning, I could not help but think of the seemingly infinite openness that is the basis of Talmud study as I have slowly learned--an openness that does not allow an "anything goes" type of interpretation or implementation, but one that encourages and nurtures creativity and personal initiative.

Within our finite limits and the infinite possibilities that our imaginations and creativity can produce, we are challenged with the task to strive to build and develop an in-depth, heartfelt relationship with Hashem, with Hakadosh Barukh Hu, with God. We are challenged to find the truth of our lives. It is also my profound belief that that play of poetry, at its best, can also help forge and develop this relationship and help develop this truth.

The philosopher David Michael Levin, who I quote it my essay on the poet Charles Olson, compares this more open sense of truth (in contrast to truth as correctness) that only can emerge is the space of this type of openness:

In poetizing discourse, both sound and sense require a theory of truth which understands and appreciates their ‘ecstatic’ play within an open field. In the phonological dimension, there must be a field for the play of sounds: echoes, resonances, overtones and undertones, onomatopeia, polyphony, emotionally evocative sounds. Similarly, in its semantic dimension, the dimension of signifiers, there must be a field for the play of meanings: ambiguities, allusions, metaphors, shades of meaning, adumbrations of what is to come. Truth as correctness, truth represented in the discourse of statements, assertions, propositions, cannot do justice to the interactive processes essential to poetizing discourse. Truth as aletheia can, because it is hermeneutical: it lets sound and sense play in the interplay of presence and absence, identity and difference. To the poetizing process, the process of bringing experience as it takes shape into words that further shape it, aletheia gives a multi-dimensional field in which to unfold. (437)

Aletheia is the Greek word for truth that Heidegger defined as "unconcealing" and which in some way to my mind expresses the work of Talmud Torah and the creativity that underlies it.

More on multivalence . . . the heart of lomdus

In a recent comment to a post, a good friend wrote:

"Multi-valent" is a good, strong word, though I prefer "particulate", in the sense Blake meant when he referred to 'reality' as made up of "Minute Particulars" . . . Particulars can be collected -- and we don't pick flowers-in-general, we pick these daisies in front of us here and now.

I believe his description of particulars is an important one for each of us to remember in our day-to-day lives as we interact with all the individuals (persons and things) in our lives and strive not to simply generalize or categorize our encounters.

However, for me "multi-valent" has a different meaning. It points to the nearly infinite number of meanings and chiddushim that Rav Rosensweig can seemingly discover within a sugya. It refers to what Shalom Carmy calls "polyphonic diversity" in his essay entitled, "Polyphonic Diversity and Military Music," from Lomdus: The Conceptual Approach to Jewish Learning, edited by Yosef Blau.

Rabbi Carmy opens his essay with these sentences from the Arukh ha-Shulhan, Hoshen Mishpat:

Indeed it is the glory of our holy, pure Torah, for the entire Torah is called a song (shirah) and the glory song is when the voices vary; that is the primary pleasantness. Whoever sets sail in the sea of Talmud will discover varied melodic pleasure in all the varied voices.

A student who is comfortable with the polyphonic world of the Talmud is also comfortable with complexity and ambiguity, and does not seek simple answers, because in the end they do not exist. Rabbi Calmy writes:

Typical of the polyphonic consciousness is the Rav's assertion that when human beings are faced with many crucial dilemmas and orientations of value, Halakhah "tries to help man in such critical moments," but does not provide a formulaic "synthesis, since the latter does not exist."

It is this type of student who appreciates what Rabbi Calmy calls, "the infinite challenge that defines the human endeavor to study Torah."

To help me better understand what lomdus is and how it is lived out, I found this essay on the internet entitled, Humility and Halakah: Placing Derekh Ha-Limud in Perspective, by Rabbi Doniel Schreiber.

At first he describes various types of iyun or lomdus (in-depth gemara study) this way:

• One end of the spectrum, reflective of classic iyun found in Ge'onic times, would place the elucidation of texts as its main goal. All questions and analyses, in this approach, aim to arrive at a better understanding of the texts.
• On the other end of the spectrum, reflective of more contemporary lomdus, is the attempt to understand concepts by classifying, conceptualizing and defining halakhic matter.
• In the middle of the spectrum, one finds a more balanced system embracing both the importance of text and the centrality of concept. The text generates analysis of concepts, while concepts shed light upon new ways of reading text.

He then defines lomdus practiced by Rav Rosensweigh in the following manner;

More recently, mori ve-rabi HaRav Michael Rosensweig shlita, Rosh Yeshiva at Yeshiva University, has catapulted iyun into a new sphere of analysis. It demands, on the one extreme, a microscopic approach. This entails an exhaustive, comprehensive, and often tedious sifting of the most subtle halakhic minutiae and the most seemingly trivial detail. On the other extreme, it requires one to ascend to a macroscopic perspective, in which one, taking into consideration a wealth of sugyot revolving around a broad issue, peers downward upon the sweeping, halakhic landscape. This method, in essence, expands Brisker analysis to the farthest reaches of both ends of the sugya.

These two polar extremes, rigorous scrutiny and panoramic vision, when concomitantly implemented, enable one to integrate and interpret all forms of nuances and detail into the landscape of the sugya in the broadest sense of the term - the meta-sugya.* For example, elements of halakha associated with the process of beit din (courts) may shed light on how to understand the broader concept of din (Jewish civil law); details in the topic of eidim zomemim (false witnesses) could reflect on the larger picture of eidim and eidut (witnesses and testimony); minutiae in the discussion of gittin (bills of divorce), might clarify the wider topic of shtarot (legal documents). The incessant and rigorous investigation of a detail's relationship to the meta-sugya is the hallmark of this system. To some degree, this may represent the pinnacle of lomdus and the Brisker derekh.

*I use the term meta-sugya to refer to mori ve-rabi HaRav Rosensweig's emphasis on analyzing classic sugyot and then treating each of them as a detail within a broader enveloping sugya, which in turn may become a detail in an even broader sugya, and so on.

I am proud to say that I have listened to many of Rav Rosensweig's shiurim in which he has done very similar to the ones described above . . . they truly are quite a ride.

As Rabbi Schreiber continues in the his essay, he also speaks of some of the benefits and reasons for taking such an approach:

When one is involved in conceptual analysis of sugyot, reaching great depths of understanding, one achieves a genuinely rich sense of satisfaction. While this is partially due to the fact that one is involved in the important and basic mitzva to learn Torah, it is largely because one is engaged in something that is the most meaningful and penetrating experience as humanly possible. It is the endeavor, in our never-ending pursuit to draw close to God, to understand Divine intent.

The only real way finite man has to reach God is to be involved in what God has revealed to us. This, to be sure, includes performance of mitzvot, but especially pertains to talmud Torah, because talmud Torah is THE embodiment of the will of God. While thrashing out questions of kinyanei geneiva (theft law) is not as obvious a method of bringing one closer to God as learning the laws of avodat Hashem is, it accomplishes it as effectively.

Although one may be serious about talmud Torah, if one does not relate to this experience, if one is not animated by it, one cannot be passionate about learning Torah. Anyone who is really passionate about his learning, to the extent that he is actually consumed by, and excessive in, his talmud Torah - not just that he derives a certain pleasure from it - has certainly, whether consciously or not, encountered the Shekhina.

As well as these:

Success [in lomdus], inasmuch as there are always new facts, new definitions and new situations, lies in the ability to perceive new concepts in new facts, to penetrate to their meaning as much as possible, and apply them to new situations. This is the pursuit of Divine intent and its inner logic.

and these:

It is important to keep in mind throughout that lomdus is not a formal method which merely requires a series of steps, nor is it an artificial process consisting of stale categories of thought. Rather, lomdus is a response to internal stimuli; one must always endeavor to be creative, open to nuances, formulations, and shifting winds - flexibility is critical. Thus, while these tools are useful, one must not let them dull sensitivity and constrict creativity.

Lomdus, when successfully implemented, allows one to respond to sugyot with intuitive precision and depth of understanding.

and finally these:

A skillful lamdan, thus, transforms the passive absorption of information into an encounter, an engagement with devar Hashem.

To learn more about this approach I came upon this recorded shiurim by Rav Rosensweig, which I intend to listen to shortly: Derekh HaLimud 1 (11/21/05) and Derekh HaLimud 2 (11/28/05).

In a few words, I guess I am drawn to the profound ability and desire to find infinite depths in the finite world around us. While my good friend Gary's words opened this post, about the importance of the particulars around us, which certainly holds much truth, I cannot help but think that a lamdan, might see the same flowers that Gary speaks about and immediately ask him or herself, halakhic questions regarding its permissability to be eaten or planted or uprooted on Shabbat, etc.

To close this too long post, I want to share some quotes from Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik's Halakhic Man:

When a fruit is growing, halakhic man measures the fruit with the standards of growth and ripening that he possesses: budding stage, early stage of ripening, formation of fruits or leaves, and reaching one-third of complete ripeness. He gazes at colors and determines their quality: distinguishes between green and yellow, blue and white, etc., etc., “between blood and blood, between affection and ffection” (Deut 17:8) p21

There is no real phenomenon to which halakhic man does not possess a fixed relationship from the outset and a clear, definitive, a priori orientation. . . . The Halakhah encompasses laws of business, torts, neighbors, plaintiff and defendant, creditor and debtor, partners, agents, workers, artisans, bailees, etc. p22

When his soul yearns for God, he immerses himself in reality, plunges, with his entire being, into the very midst of concrete existence, and petitions God to descend upon the mountain and to dwell within our reality, with all its laws and principles. Homo religiosus ascends to God; God, however, descends to halakhic man. The latter desires not to transform finitude into infinity but rather infinity into finitude. p45

The study of the Torah is not a means to another end, but is the end point of all desires. It is the most fundamental principle of all. p87

Charles Olson, poetry and multivalence

A number of years ago I wrote an essay for a modern poetry class. The topic was Charles Olson and what I called a "Polis of Attention and Dialogue."

I have been silent on this blog for almost a month now for many reasons, but thinking about what I wanted to say, I returned to this essay, which tried to described the multivalent (many meanings) nature of Olson's poetry and in turn the multivalent nature of our world. And I believe that it is my interest in the viewpoint that drew me to the Talmud's multivalence, and why I have been attracted to it over time.

I thought I would share a number of paragraphs from the essay, the whole piece can be found here.

Charles Olson’s Maximus: A Polis of Attention and Dialogue

Don Byrd in his Charles Olson’s Maximus says this about Olson’s interest in more traditional academic work, “His problem was simple: how does the writer manage to finish a project when every day he discovers information which changes the entire picture?”. This is how I feel about my own work with Charles Olson, every page of Maximus seems to open new angles on Olson, on the world, on reality and on myself.

What draws me to Olson’s work is his ability to hold in tension two apparently opposing messages. The first is that “life is strangled by systems” (Christensen 212) and the second is the importance of “making a mappemunde” that includes his “being” (Olson M II 87). While Olson clearly desires to join with Nietzsche and others in toppling the “whole line of life that makes Delphi that center,” (Butterick 7) he does not simply create a mass of ruins. Rather, he takes those ruins and creates a mythology and cosmology out of them. However, these creations are not a Ptolemaic system of perfect circles. Instead, it is a wild, open, becoming, creative, imaginative, unfinished mythology that asks readers for their attention and participation.

A example in nature of this process of both destruction and creation is a terminal moraine–the geological deposits left at the end of a glacier’s journey. It contains everything that the glacier consumed in its path. This image works on many levels with Maximus. First, on a literal level, the section of Gloucester known as Dogtown is actually a “terminal moraine” as Olson says in “Maximus from Downtown–I.” Second, Maximus, itself, can be seen as a terminal moraine created by the movement of Charles Olson–a glacier of a man, whose interests included:

Hopi language, Mayan statuary, non-Euclidean geometry, Melville’s fiction, the austere thought structures in Whitehead’s philosophy, the fragmentaary remains of the Sumerian and Hittite civilizations, Norse, Greek, and Egyptian mythology, numerology and the Tarot, the history of human migration, naval and economic history, the etymology of common words, pre-Socratic philosophy, the historical origins of the New England colonies, the development of the fishing industry off the coast of Massachusetts, accounts of the conquest of Mexico, the collapse of the Aztec and Mayan civilizations. (Christensen 5-6)

Finally, the image of the terminal moraine also resonates with the view of the mythologist, Joseph Campbell, who used this image as a description of the state of myth in our time. Campbell imagined that individuals in the twentieth century were standing on a terminal moraine containing the fragments of thousands of years of myth. And from this great treasure chest of myth he encouraged individuals to create their own personal mythology by picking and choosing from what lies about them. It is with a similar sentiment that Olson writes Maximus.

. . .

Heidegger’s work is immense and extremely complex, but if one turns to his essay on “The Origin of the Work of Art,” one can find some interesting descriptions of truth and the role of the artist in the revelation of that truth. The essential aspect of truth for Heidegger is “unhiddenness,” which Heidegger uncovers within the traditional Greek term for truth, aletheia. It is this sense of truth that Heidegger refers to when he writes,

The art work opens up in its own way the Being of beings. This opening up, i.e., this deconcealing, i.e., the truth of beings, happens in the work. In the art work, the truth of what is has set itself to work. Art is truth setting itself to work. (390)

For Heidegger, art creates an opening out of which truth is unconcealed. Thus, for Heidegger, much like Olson, truth emerges in the openness of a field created by art, by poetry. In a passage that seemingly could have come from Olson, we hear Heidegger say,

What poetry, as illuminating projection, unfolds of unconcealedness and projects ahead into the design of the figure, is the Open which poetry lets happen, and indeed in such a way that only now, in the midst of beings, the Open brings beings to shine and ring out. (72)

Reality, being, truth only emerge in the Open, not within the confines of a clearly delineated system of classification and identification, which stagnates life. The nature of the Open allows for the freedom of creation necessary to bring art to life­–an art not of measure and control, but one of freedom and creativity:

The more poetic a poet is–the freer (that is, the more open and ready for the unforeseen) his saying–the greater is the purity with which he submits what he says to an ever more painstaking listening, and the further what he says is from the mere propositional statement that is dealt with solely in regard to its correctness or incorrectness. (216)

In this passage from “‘. . . Poetically Man Dwells . . .’” Heidegger could have been talking about Maximus, since it certainly requires a “painstaking listening” and cannot be judged on a basis of “correctness or incorrectness.” It also clearly relates to the nature of reality that Olson is striving to give voice to and create a space for–a reality that demands “painstaking listening” and “eyes,” and cannot simply be measured, organized or classified.

. . .

Olson does not simply tell his readers "to find out for yourself." Instead, he forces them to make those discoveries on their own. He does not provide simple answers or solutions. How could he, if he truly believed in the centrality of process and the fluidity of absolutes? By using unorthodox sentence structures, incomplete statements, obscure references, original layout techniques, Olson forces readers to engage the text in an attentive, conversational, dialogical manner in which new meaning is created in the opening of the poem. One cannot assume that the next word will follow from the previous. Each word has to be attended to and given the space to play. Readers must work; they must use their eyes, ears, breath and bodies to engage the text. If they do not pay careful attention to the text and its nuances and participate in a open, transforming dialogue with it, then they will miss its meaning completely, and will fail to create the “polis of the self” (Christensen ix) that it challenges them to create. Eniko Bollobas describes the participatory nature of reading Olson in the following way:

The rich texture of Olson’s poem demands a participatory (creative) reading from the reader rather than “literate” passive listening. Also, it demands from this reader a certain openness and a willingness to resist and ignore prior expectations, preconceptions, prejudices, and routines of apprehension. The multivalent text, the text characterized by free syntactic and semantic valencies, seems a more faithful transcript of the creative moment, and at the same time promises a more active, activating reading experience. (62)

Olson, in fact, gives readers a hint on how to engage his text by how he uses texts within Maximus. Olson makes the texts he reads (e.g. an Algonquin legend in M II, 21) his own by incorporating them into his poem. He may change a word or two, but that is all. However, the new context Olson creates for the story gives it new meanings of which the Algonquins probably never dreamed. Through juxtaposition with other stories and repetition (Olson repeats this legend in M II 142) the meaning of the story is unleashed from its indigenous roots and allowed to float within the readers’ lives where it can possibly plant new roots. In this way Olson demonstrates that reading is not a passive process, but is an active and integrative process in which readers are challenged to unleash Maximus and make it their own in order to give “daily life itself a dignity and a sufficiency” (Christensen ix).

Even the incompleteness of Maximus, which was only gathered together in its current form after Olson's death, provides yet another entrance, another challenge for the reader. In some ways Maximus begs for the reader to complete it. Or perhaps more correctly expressed, to continue it. By engaging the text and attempting to continue it, to make it their own, readers become part of an ongoing conversation, a never-ending process of creating a “mappemunde” out of the terminal moraine on which they dwell.

my constant desire

my constant desire

my constant desire
to know,
to understand,
to experience,
to praise,
to love,
to breathe in
the God that holds
and creates each moment
through self-surrendering love

(c) copyright Jeff Wild 2008

A great site with Rav Rosensweig shiurim

Recently, I received a very warm email about a site I did not know existed http://www.yeshivalive.com/mr. It is maintained by Akiva Sacknovitz, who told me about it, and contains six years of Rav Rosensweig's shiurim that he has given at locations such as Adath Yeshurun, Kew Gardens, NY and currently at YI of Jamaica Estates, Jamaica Estates, NY.

As Akiva stated these shiurim are " geared to the working individuals. Since the shiur is only once a week, he does not cover as much as he does in his daily shiur, though all his insights and approaches to the sugyot are still there. He does not assume that those in attendance have seen the sources inside and he does not bring the plethora of proofs that he normally does in his daily class."

The masechtas Rav Rosensweig covers are Kesuvos (2002-2003), Sanhedrin (2003-2004), Shabbos (2004-2005), Kidushin (2005-2006), Bava Kama (2006-2007) and Chulin (2007-2008).

I have downloaded all six years to my iPod and have begun with Kesuvos.

Looking for more than a "measure of sanctity"

From Rabbi Rosensweig's essay, "The Spiritual Legacy of Noah and Avraham":

These two perspectives [Noah's and Abraham's] are reflected in the contrast between the full complement of halakhic obligation and the Noahide code. The 613 commandments relate to and regulate every dimension of human life, expanding the concept and scope of the sacred and suffusing the mundane with sancitiy. The more limited seven-obligation Noahide code does effectively insure significant social stability, a standard of monotheism, as well as a measure of sanctity in other realms of life, but it does not approximate the pervasive and ambitious program of the halakhah.

In reading these words, I had to ask myself what then does the Jewish tradition claim a ben Noach should do if they want more "measure of sanctity"? Where and how can one find it and strive with Abraham for something more, something like Rabbi Soloveitchik describes in this passage from Out of the Whirlwind (p. 171), which I find as one of the most moving and important passages in all of Rabbi Soloveitchik's writings.

The way of every Jew to God must not differ from the trail along which Abraham moved toward his destiny, which had to be blazed through the wilderness of a brute and nonsensical existence. The experience is attained at the cost of doubts and a restless life, searching and examining, striving and pursuing—and not finding; of frustrating efforts and almost hopeless waiting; of grappling with oneself and everybody else; of exploring a starlit and moonlit sky and watching the majesty of sunsets and sunrises, the beauty of birth and also the ugliness of death and destruction; of trying to penetrate behind the mechanical surface of the cosmic occurrence and failing to discover any intelligible order in this drama; of winning and losing and reaching out again; of being able to put on a repeat performance of something which I had and lost; of asking questions and not finding answers; of ascending the high mount like Moses and falling back into the abyss, shattering everything one has received, and yet pulling oneself out of the depths of misery and trying to climb up the mountain again with two new stone tablets.

Jonathan Williams: a discovery and a loss

Yesterday as I was reading a blog named Nomadics by the poet Pierre Joris, I happened to come upon a write-up in memorial to the passing of the poet and publisher, Jonathan Williams. In the post, Joris writes:

"The pleasure dome of American poetry," he once called his friend, the poet Robert Kelly – a description that fits Jonathan to a t. He was a student of Charles Olson at Black Mountain, but dedicated his first book to Louis Zukofsky, though he will probably be seen more the spiritual son of William Carlos Williams – no poet of his or any generation since then has had as fine an ear for American speech as JW, nor been able to score that speech on the page with greater accuracy of tone and phrasing. And between writing what must come to about 2000 poems, he managed to found & keep alive for more then half a century one of the greatest poetry presses in this country, Jargon Books, which published over a hundred handsomely printed books.

Being a fan of Olson and William Carlos Williams and poetry that tries to capture the joy and beauty of our lives, as well as a fan of small presses, I was intrigued and went to the Jargon Books site, where I found a wonderful essay called "A Snowflake Orchard & What I Found There," by Jeffery Beam.

The essay did a wonderful job of describing Williams and his small but influential press. Some excerpts:

Whether celebrating backwood visionaries or oddly precious examples of contemporary art, Jargon endures as a mother-lode of the essential. Enduring art not only affirms what is best within us, but also illuminates the dizzying variety of forms, destroying all illusions that what is Other, seemingly alien, is outside us. Jargon aims to show that what is there, is there, and that no amount of fancy word play, paint manipulation, or back-slapping can prove otherwise. The result constantly reminds me that for every artist hailed and recognized for her or his work, another hundred languish unlauded by the force of the current. . . .

At Skywinding [where Williams lived in North Carolina], Art (read Freshness) counts for something. What transpires inside this world reflects the natural world outside. No politics, no backslapping and bribery to muddle the words. No greed or prostitution or pollution to sour the voice. Only the human ache to make something of worth which stands on its own, and which instructs and deepens the quality of Being. Cleansing and lifting up. Elite/Elate.

Reading this led me to Jeffery Beams webpage, where I read a number of his poems, liking in particular, "I Have Never Wanted."

I have also listened to the two readings of Jonathan Williams that are archived on Pennsound, and read this lovely interview of him by Jeffery Beam.

What a lovely journey and what wonderful discoveries. I look forward to ordering Jonathan Williams', Jubilant Thicket: New and Selected Poems, and to continue to read more of Jeffery Beam as well. And in keeping track of Jargon Books as it begins the difficult transition with the passing of its founder and champion.

As the title of this post implies, I am very happy to have discovered the work of Jonathan Williams, but feel that it is a great loss that I did not discover him earlier.

"Universal, philosophical, and vague" . . . "poetry and life are not like that"

In a much earlier post, I wrote:

And so the Talmud is now for me the truly epic poem that is immensely alive and breathing and creating every day. It is studied, discussed and debated constantly by observant Jews, and so, why can I not walk through its pages discovering what I can find out about myself, God’s will and halakhic observance and in doing so begin or continue charting my own observance, which can only take place in the day-to-day world I live within.

And just the other day I decided to re-read a poem, entitled, "The Art of Poetry" by Kenneth Koch and wanted to share these lines that resonate with me and how my study of the Talmud when I am working at my best can truly be "one of the finest things in existence" and make me "curious to be alive," but is yet, not too "universal, philosophical, and vague," because as Kenneth Koch concludes, "poetry and life are not like that":

Total absorption in poetry is one of the finest things in existence—
It should not make you feel guilty. Everyone is absorbed in something.
The sailor is absorbed in the sea. Poetry is the mediation of life.
The epic is particularly appropriate to our contemporary world.
Because we are so uncertain of everything and also know too much,
A curious and seemingly contradictory condition, which the epic salves
By giving us our knowledge and our grasp, with all our lack of control as well.

* * *
. . . . . . . . . A reader should put your work down puzzled,
Distressed, and illuminated, ready to believe
It is curious to be alive.

* * *
It is true that good poetry is difficult to write.
Poetry is an escape from anxiety and a source of it as well.
On the whole, it seems to me worthwhile. At the end of a poem
One may be tempted to grow too universal, philosophical, and vague
Or to bring in History, or the Sea, but one should not do that
If one can possibly help it, since it makes
Each thing one writes sound like everybody else,
And poetry and life are not like that. Now I have said enough.

Wandering through the Tradition archives -- "The Halakhah's Philosophy of Man" by Norman Lamm

I finally took some time to wander through the Tradition online archive. It is a resource that they make available for free to subscribers to the periodical and for $25 a year for online access only.

What a resource! It has all Tradition articles from the beginning, which was 1958. I reviewing the Excel list of article titles and authors, the article from the Spring 1962 issue by Norman Lamm entitled, "The Halakhah's Philosophy of Man" caught my eye. While I expected an analysis of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik's work, instead I read an review of the work In His Image, but Rabbi Dr. Samual Belkin, the YU President at the time.

In the article, Rabbi Lamm writes,

He shows how the Halalchah expresses the insights which, together, represent the sanctity of the human personality, a sanctity which derives from God's creation of man "in His image."

and

The belief in God as Creator and Possessor of the world makes it imperative that man fashion for himself a way of life patterned on such a belief. This is the essence and intent of the halakhic life: to translate the abstract principle into simple actions of daily living.

I definitely enjoyed the article, but more importantly, I am glad I began to explore the Tradition archive. I had used the Tradition CD for a few years, but this is much simpler to use.

And if anyone has read Dr. Belkin's In His Image, I would be interested to hear if it still holds up after more than 50 years.

Meditation, action, thought and a maximalist halachic lifestyle

In a recent comment, Gandalin, wrote:

One breath at a time does sound meditative, but meditation is action.

One breath at a time is one hevel at a time, one moment at a time.

I am trying to suggest that the Halakhic approach does not seek to do everything all at once, but examines life in action in bite-sized pieces. Every moment is important and worthy of consideration.

This comment brings many ideas to my mind.

One is that yes, meditation is action, but it is also concentrated thought (such as Tibetan Buddhist analytical meditations) and this makes me think of talmudic study, which is clearly concentrated thought.

And yes, I couldn't agree more that "Every moment is important and worthy of consideration," which is something the halakhah certainly instills in a way that I think is different from the very popular and perhaps effective motto to "be in the now" or "be in the moment."

While these sayings are certainly worthwhile, I think they lend themselves too easily to simple inwardness and attention, if that. While the halakhah asks one to focus on the moment, by asking one to follow the commandments of Hashem, these I see as very different responses to life.

In some ways, the popular mottos could be seen as a "minimalist" view of life -- be attentive to anything that occurs. Which again is in drastic contrast to Rav Rosensweig's insistance of encouraging a "maximalist man of destiny" from his essay "The Spiritual Legacy of Noah and Avraham" or a "maximalist halachic lifestyle" from his essay "Chanukah as a Holiday of Idealism and Maximalism."

One of the things that attracts me to the Modern Orthodox tradition is this emphasis on a maximalist viewpoint, because I believe that Hashem deserves nothing less.

Teaching Torah to non-Jews . . . a dilemma

In a recent post on Hirhurim Musings, Rabbi Student kindly referenced my interview in the Commentator. In the comments about the interview, the issue of teaching Torah to non-Jews was raised. You can read the short post here and the comments here. Note that only some of the comments to this post deal with my Commentator interview.

In one of the comments, Professor Lawrence Kaplan makes reference to J. David Bleich writing on this issue. After a quick google search, I found that Rabbi Bleich had written on the issue in Tradition magazine in 1980 (I assume that this is the essay Prof. Kaplan was referencing).

In reading through the article (I have included quotes below), it seems that at least instruction on the seven Noahide laws should not be a problem or concern. What is interesting is that one of the things that I have learned from Rabbi Shlomo Singer's shiurim is that you can't divide up the Talmud. He is fond of saying, it is "one page" -- all sections, all issues are interconnected. While I haven't heard Rabbi Rosensweig say this, certainly in how he moves throughout the entire Talmud in nearly every shiur, he seems to make the same case.

With all this in mind, I must admit I feel justified in continuing my exploration and study, particularly since I do feel it helps me look at everyday life with new eyes, while at the same time helping me come closer to God, by coming closer to the Torah.

Below are some quotes from the opening and closing pages of J. David Bleich's, "Survey of Recent Halakhic Periodical Literature: Teaching Torah to Non-Jews" (Tradition, 18 (2), Summar 1980.

The prohibition against teaching Torah to non-Jews is well known to students of Jewish law. Equally well known is the role of Abraham as the "father of the multitude of nations," entrusted with the sacred task of carrying the teaching of monotheism to idolatrous peoples. A person unfamiliar with the extensive rabbinical literature devoted to this topic may perceive a certain tension, and perhaps even contradiction, between a recognized need to disseminate religious truths and an almost xenophobic reluctance to share the greatest repository of such truth—the Torah. Yet even a cursory examination of the relevant sources dispels the notion that while the community of Israel jealously guards its spiritual wealth, it refuses to share these riches with others. On the contrary, it is unique among Western religions in its willingness to share its teachings without seeking to impose its observations. This necessarily involves a vocation of teaching despite the stricture against teaching Torah to non-Jews. The latter, while based on substantive philosophical considerations and of definite halachic import, admits of sufficiently broad exclusions to assure that Israel remains true to its role as a lamp unto the nations. p192

In the medieval period no less a personage than Rambam entirely Christianity from this prohibition, while in the last century Rabbi Israel Salanter, the acclaimed founder of the Mussar movement, actually mounted a campaign for the incorporation of talmudic studies in the curricula of European schools and universities. p193

It seems to this writer that, while there exists no obligation to volunteer information (although it may well be laudable to do so), there is an obligation to respond to a request for information. Jews are commanded to disseminate Torah as widely as possible among their fellow Jews, but there is no obligation to seize the initiative in teaching the seven commandments to Noachides. Nevertheless, when information or advice is solicited there is a definite obligation to respond. When the non-Jew take the initiative in posing a query, the Jew must respond to the best of his ability. p203

Despite the absence of a specific obligation to influence non-Jews to abide by the provisions of the Noachide Code, the attempt to do so is entirely legitimate. Apart from our universal concern, fear lest “the world becomes corrupt,” as Rambam puts it, is also very much a matter of Jewish concern and self-interest. Disintegration of the moral fabric of society affects everyone. Particularly in our age we can not insulate ourselves against the pervasive cultural forces that mold human conduct. Jews have every interest in promoting a positive moral climate.

Accordingly, Jews should certainly not hesitate to make the teachings of Judaism as they bear on contemporary mores more readily accessible to fellow citizens. That is the most direct means available to us for exercising a positive influence in improving the more atmosphere in which we all live. p203

Opening up the Halakhic Man at random this morning

I often open a book at random and see what I find. Today, I did that with Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik's Halakhic Man, and found these amazingly profound and important words that are a wonderful antidote to other-worldly mysticism and pure this-world attention:

His [halakhic man] goal is not flight to another world that is wholly good, but rather bringing down that eternal world into the midst of our world. Homo religiosus, his glance fixed upon the higher realms, forgets all too frequently the lower realms and becomes ensnared in the sins of ethical inconsistency and hypocrisy. See what many religions have done to this world on account of their yearning to break through the bounds of concrete reality and escape to the sphere of eternity. p41

There is nothing so physically and spiritually destructive as diverting one's attention from this world. And, by contrast, how courageous is halakhic man who does not flee from this world, who does not seek to escape to some pure, supernal realm. Halakhic man craves to bring down the divine presence and holiness into the midst of space and time, in the midst of finite, earthly existence. p41

An unlikely interview in the YU Commentator

About two weeks ago I got an email from Zev Eleff, the editor of the YU Commentator, the newspaper of Yeshiva College, wanting to know if I would be willing to do an "email" interview, because me and my blog had come up in various conversations on campus.

Needless to say I was excited. Just to know that the blog would get some exposure and more importantly that some folks were finding what I wrote interesting was great. While I am not sure if people are talking about it because of;

• what I have been writing,
• or that I am interested in Rabbi Rosensweig's shiur or
• that I am not Jewish

Any of those reasons, or more are find with me. Clearly a goal of the blog is to feel like I am in dialogue with others (even if there are few comments) and the interview is a great opportunity to extend that dialogue.

The interview, which is entitled, "An Unlikely Shiur Guest" was published on May 12 and I hope captures my respect and enthusiasm for the work of Rabbi Rosensweig and the YUTorah site in general.

Click here to read the interview.

My Talmud set is complete -- returning to the beginning

I recently picked up the final volumes of the 73-volume Artscroll Schottenstein English Edition Talmud Bavli from my mother's house in the US. Since I live in Switzerland and with the increase in shipping costs from Artscroll's European distributer, I have usually had volumes sent to my Mom and then picked them up during my bi-annual visits.

I had been slowly adding tractates for about three years and am finally finished, which in many ways is clearly both anend and a beginning. Rather mystically, this would have been the last time I could pick books up at my Mom's, since she actually passed away in April at the wonderful age of 88 and having lived what she often called "a wonderful life." So, when I was in town for the funeral I was able to complete my Bavli. I had placed my final order in December, never knowing what would follow.

For me completing this set and finally having the whole sea of the Talmud to swim in gave me the idea to return to one of the earliest posts in this blog. In it I share the 11 points that at the time I wrote about concerning why I was studying the Talmud. I wanted to see what I thought of them now after a little over three years of exploration.

Here is what I wrote:

I find the Talmud:

1. a work of unimaginable dedication and commitment to God.
2. a work focused on the particular day-to-day, moment-to-moment elements that make up life (obviously also many moments that don't make up my life -- temple sacrifices, etc.). It truly seems to avoid abstraction and focus on the particular.
3. a work that accepts discord and multi-valent views of the world.
4. a work that is basically INFINITE in its scope and depth and diversity.
5. a work that stimulates intense interest today and has for 1500 years.
6. a work that connects to the past and holds within it the explanations and explorations of God's will that have continued for over 2000 years.
7. a work that can help me focus on and recognize the ever-present nature of God.
8. a work of great creativity and imagination that can help stretch my mind.
9. a work of which the study is a holy possibility and opportunity.
10. a work that screams, shouts, contemplates and argues this basic fact -- "We are commanded!" This is something I deeply believe.
11. a work large enough (a true sea) to welcome even an outsider in, who simply wants to enter and learn out of love

In looking at these points after three years, I think they are all still valid. Though, one additional point that I would add now is the importance and centrality of creativity and chiddushim to Talmud Torah. And it is this encouragement of creativity that I truly find so inspiring and challenging, and which Rabbi Rosensweig writes about in the article, "Personal Initiative In Avodat Hashem," from the Torah u-Madda Journal. I hope to post on this article soon.

Over this time, I have, I must admit, frequently lost the drive and push to continue my study. At times, it seems too irrelevant to me, too caught up in details on issues don't touch my life, too much work, etc.

But I return again and again, I recently began again to listen to the daily Daf Yomi talks from CD Shas and still try to listen to Rav Rosensweig's classes as often as possible.

As the Bavli warns, studying alone is not easy, though I don't feel completely alone since the wonderful YU Torah resource provides so many shiurim.

Universalism must flow from our particularism

I just recently listened to the recording of event put on by Yeshiva University entitled, Yehudim V'Amim: Destinies Intertwined?, which was about the Jewish responsibility for the global community from a social justice perspective. It was an evening of very interesting talks given by the Richard M. Joel, the president of YU and Rabbis Michael Rosensweig and J.J. Schacter.

While one of the messages of the evening was the need for offering students a balance of opportunities including social justice outreach, as well as training in Torah along with the full range of university curriculum.

During his presentation Rabbi Rosensweig made the point that a Jewish sense of universalism must flow from Judaism's particularism. I find this point very interesting and very important. Clearly, Judaism is known for it particularism in the sense that there is a perception that it has a dominant focus on the family of Jews and not the larger family of the world. And while Christianity may claim to have offered a remedy for that particularism, I think that the more interesting type of Jewish "particularism" is the type of amazing attention to real world details that is at the heart of the Talmud. For instance in Berachos 4b we find:

This is what David said before the Holy One, Blessed be He: Master of the Universe, am I not devout? For all the other kings of the East and the West sit among their company in their glory, but as for me, my hands are soiled with blood, embryos, and afterbirths which I examine, in order to permit a woman to her husband.

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, described this passage in Halakhic Man as an example of how the halakhic man gets "his hands soiled by the gritty realia of practical Halakhah."

Another example of this specificity comes from in today's Daf Yomi, Nazir 49B, which describes the amount of a corpse (bones, blood, gel, dust, etc.) needed to make a nazir tameh (ritually impure).

From these "gritty" particulars, the Talmud and its interpreters are able to build an ideal vision of reality, what one might call a universal vision. Again from Halakhic Man:

Halakhah has a fixed a priori relationship to the whole of reality in all of its fine and detailed particulars. Halakhic man orients himself to the entire cosmos and tries to understand it by utilizing an ideal world which he bears in his halakhic consciousness. p23

What I find fascinating is that another direction my attention has taken me recently is to a somewhat similar particularist vision of reality that is described by The Rule of Benedict (RB), St. Benedict's monastic rule that he wrote around 600 CE (the same time that the editing of the Talmud was completed).

Here is the reading for May 6:

Hence the Lord says in the Gospel,
"Whoever listens to these words of Mine and acts upon them,
I will liken to a wise person
who built a house on rock.
The floods came,
the winds blew and beat against that house,
and it did not fall,
because it had been founded on rock" (Matt. 7:24-25).

Having given us these assurances,
the Lord is waiting every day
for us to respond by our deeds to His holy admonitions.
And the days of this life are lengthened
and a truce granted us for this very reason,
that we may amend our evil ways.
As the Apostle says,
"Do you not know that God's patience is inviting you to repent" (Rom. 2:4)?
For the merciful Lord tells us,
"I desire not the death of the sinner,
but that the sinner should be converted and live" (Ezech. 33:11).

Words like "rock" and "deeds" and the entire RB is filled with real world, nitty gritty details about life within a community of monks written 1400 years ago. Yet, it contains an enormous array of details and insights from which one can learn much for living in the everyday world of the 21st century.

And on the other hand, philosophical or theological positions that do not rely on the particular, but are built on abstractions or generalizations often evaporate when challenged or lose their strength over time or simply merge into one, weak message that no longer has the power to move, motivate or inspire.

Somehow, these two visions, the Talmud and the Rule of Benedict, for me contain a way to focus on the particular, but dwell within the eternal and point to the universal.

Creativity . . . the purpose of the universe?

In other posts (here, here and here), I have written specifically about the importance of creativity. Today, I want to try again. As the title declares, the questions I want to ask are:

• Is creativity the purpose of the universe?
  
• Is creativity our purpose?
  
• Is the universe fundamentally creative?
  
• If so, are we?
  

In this post I will share quotes from two writers, who I believe would have a wonderful time talking and exploring together, even though their they come from very different perspectives. I will share quotes from Dr. Stuart Kauffman and Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik.

Dr. Kauffman is director of the Institute for Biocomplexity and Informatics at the University of Calgary and is a professor in the departments of Biological Sciences and Physics and Astronomy at the university. More can be found out here.

The YU website has a short bio of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik here. The last line simply says, "was the most influential figure associated with the spread of Torah in America, and he was singularly known as “the Rav.”

While I enjoy the holistic view of Dr. Kauffman, I must admit that I find the Rav's view more inviting and a more tangible invitation to create on my own and to turn my day-to-day life into one filled with meaning and creativity.

Stuart Kauffman from Reinventing the Sacred draft (a book to be released in May)

Thus, beyond the new science that glimmers a new world view, we have a new view of God, not as transcendent, not as an agent, but as the very creativity of the universe itself. This God brings with it a sense of oneness, unity, with all of life, and our planet — it expands our consciousness and naturally seems to lead to an enhanced potential global ethic of wonder, awe, responsibility within the bounded limits of our capacity, for all of life and its home, the Earth, and beyond as we explore the Solar System.

The third, rather astonishing theme that is emerging in this new world view is that the biosphere and human culture are ceaselessly creative in ways that are fundamentally unpredictable and presumably non-algorithmic or machine like.

I want God to mean the vast ceaseless creativity of the only universe we know of, ours. What do we gain by using the God word? I suspect a great deal, for the word carries with it awe and reverence. If we can transfer that awe and reverence, not to the transcendental Abrahamic God of my Israelite tribe long ago, but to the stunning reality that confronts us, we will grant permission for a renewed spirituality, and awe, reverence and responsibility for all that lives, for the planet.

Stuart Kauffman -- Investigations

'Forever Creative' -- "In this chapter I have been trying to say, argue, articulate the possibility that a biosphere is profoundly generative--somehow fundamentally always creative. The cornerstone of this dawning new conviction lies in the belief I now hold with some confidence that we cannot finitely prestate the configuration space of a biosphere." 135

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik -- Halakhic Man

“Only man is capable of creative interpretation (hiddush), something which is beyond the power of angels, for since the Holy One, blessed be He, created them in a state of perfection, they need not and, therefore, cannot develop and progress. But this is not the case with man, for he progresses and his intellect gains ever-increasing strength. . . . The essence of the Torah is intellectual creativity. 82

Halakhic man is a man who longs to create, to bring into being something new, something original. The study of Torah, by definition, means gleaning new, creative insights from the Torah (hiddushei Torah). 99

Man’s task is to “fashion, engrave, attach, and create,” and transform the emptiness in being into a perfect and holy existence, bearing the imprint of the divine name. 101

If a man wishes to attain the rank of holiness, he must become a creator of world. If a man never creates, never brings into being anything new. anything original, then he cannot be holy unto his God. 108

The most fundamental principle of all is that man must create himself. It is this idea that Judaism introduced into the world. 109

And halakhic man, whose voluntaristic nature we have established earlier, is, indeed, a free man. He creates an ideal world, renews his own being and transforms himself into a man of God, dreams about the complete realization of the Halakhah in the very core of the world, and looks forward to the kingdom of God “contracting” itself and appearing in the midst of concrete and empirical reality. 137

If we accept that the universe is this abundant and creative realm -- then doesn't it make simple sense that that type of abundant creativity is key to each of us, to the human universe. Therefore, as one investigates ideas, theories, even religions--this notion of creativity and abundance and its nurturing, advocating, encouraging and teaching is fundamental.

What creates the opportunity for more creativity, more diversity, more abundance, more LIFE? This creativity is not simply poetry (the favorite of many philosophers, e.g Heidegger) or art, but the creativity in all of Life's areas -- creatively exploring new opportunities for growth.

With creativity, diversity, novelty as fundamental goods--freedom is another key -- because without freedom, we would not have the opportunity to explore new possibilities, new opportunities, new horizons.

I think the most important thing to remember is that this is how the universe works -- when we block this creativity, this newness, we run counter to life; we block our own creativity, we block the fundamental direction, urge, push of Life.

What are some of the keys to making this happen? Language -- language helps create new possibility, new ways of thinking and seeing by finding/creating the right word(s). Environment -- a rich (though not chaotic) environment creates new opportunities.

Moment to moment to moment -- looking for creativity, opportunity, possibility, growth.

Notes on nomadics

Notes on nomadics

focus on the creative
the new
the rhizome not the root

no set path
though all paths can be “raided” for necessities and treasures

constant movement
constant correction
constant rebirth

constantly making connections
new connections for new possibilities
new life

no authorities
no organization

love of the new
the possible of all the connections
that create the world new every moment

humility to the unknown and unknowable
surrender to the creative
embracing of the virtual and the unthinkable next moment

nomad poetics
new chiddushim

Copyright (c) Jeff Wild, 2008