"A ghost just walked over my grave" seems like a pithy remark to open a post and whatever its correct context, it feels the appropriate thing to say.
I was just having a look over at random files that I retrieved from my old computer. There was some cringe-worthy lyrics to songs I half-wrote, a rather surprising opinion I expressed on gender differences in a psychology essay, a cracking critique of Louis Jacob's doctrines, an entertaining musical I wrote for a Hanoar program and some interesting sources. Oh yes... and that letter which (for better or worse) remains between me, the recipient and G-d.
I
However, there was another letter which was never finished off and never sent. It was this letter that is the cause of the aforementioned (hopefully metaphorical) ghost and grave. Apart from giving me an indication of my previous preference of font size, it gave me an eerie look at my past. It is basically a letter I was writing to the then chaplain- Rabbi Hodges- to decide once and for all my thoughts regarding Jewish observance. As I say in the letter I have set myself a modest task: "questions of the divinity of the whole Torah is the main purpose of this letter"!!!
Having articulated that the 'meaning of life' has been a top priority for years, I declare of Judaism: "Either it is right or wrong". I want to know which and want the decisive reason that will tell me so. Reasonable enough, no? Well. Today, I would see that as the wrong question to ask. It is not a particularly Jewish question, is unfruitful and can lead to some fundamentalist conclusions. However, the fact that I asked such questions should lead me to examine my sometimes unintentionally condescending attitude to people who insist on such a straight-out answer.
II
Apart from personal mussar, the letter helps to understand what prompts such questions and how this affects the type of answer given. What's the purpose of such a "true-false" question?
From what I say, I think I must have written the letter in my second term of my first year at university. By this point I had 'come out' to my parents. Not in relation to my sexuality but as to my shabbat observance. As challenging (and frankly boring) as Shabbat must have been in my first term, it was nothing to having to go through a readjustment with my parents. Only after having spent time at home, could I realise just what a radical step in my life I had taken. I now thought "It is getting to the point where increasing my religiosity any more could cause problems with the family". Whilst up to then I could take on mitzvot on the probability that Judaism is true, now I needed to know that it was true.
The above was possibly my primary motivation but the letter - as far as it goes- is filled with other reasons. The second reason I can empathise with as well. I use the word 'empathise' as it is as if from another person- such a reason would be utterly strange from the philosophical perspective I currently inhabit. Yet, I can understand the emotion behind it:
Without such an assurance I would see no point of even studying the oral law. I occasionally look at English versions of the Talmud and it strikes with irrelevance and of hair picking. For example, 7 pages of commentary/ gemarra on a single mishna which in itself goes into everyone who can have a valuation and who can make a vow. I have no motivation to study this. This is, of course, a fault on my behalf. However, without being sure that this was something that G-d says I can’t forsee making the effort to correct this fault.
Of course, it is certainly a serious issue to ask the relevance of such 'nitpicking'.
The third reason is frightening because of its desperation and because, in many ways, the way it is expressed is morally abhorrent:
As a third reason for needing to be assured of the torah’s divinity, is the need to be able to say “G-d said so”! Many things in the Torah seem unpalatable and are certainly against social norms. For example, stoning someone to death or even animal sacrifices. If I’m in the mindset that “G-d said so”, then this is not a problem. Under the authority of the supreme being then social norms are worthless and anything is justified. Without that mindset which I lack, reading passages like that of stoning can make me feel uncomfortable.
Now I certainly believe that G-d's word overrides social norms and that certain things aren't palatable because they are not the 'done thing' in modern society. However, presumably, animal sacrifices and stoning people weren't bothering me because they were 'social norms' or 'unpalatable' . They would have done so because of concerns they were morally wrong. I felt like I couldn't justify certain religious values without a psychological certainty in their validity. However, no 'mindset' could or should dictate moral standards.
All these reasons seem to demand a theoretical reason for Judaism's truth and do so in relation to real intellectual problems. Under what circumstances does religious authority overcome familial authority? What is the cognitive or spiritual value of law and the text study of it? What is the relationship between eternal values and a particular time? However, the letter shows that the demand for these theoretical reasons were prompted by an emotional or psychological need. I need to be sure.
III
A third interesting thing about the letter is a purely theoretical one. On what grounds did I think that one should be observant of Judaism? What were my beliefs at the time through which I justified my observance?
I just wrote a massively long piece (now deleted) to go into this section about how hard it is for someone like myself to answer that question. That is, someone who started my journey of observance so young but whose development was so gradual. There is no one reason that I can identify as the reason, as I have had to think about the authority of Judaism every step of the way. Nor if I could point to a reason would I be able to express it in anything like the way I would have done at the time.
How could I give authentic voice to my views at the time when anything I now say is so filtered through writers or works that I would never had a clue about at the time? I sometimes need reminding that I never knew anything about Rambam (besides his existence) until the end of my second year, or even heard of Soloveitchik until half way through my third year. Up until that point my entire Jewish diet was Kiruv Judaism. Every lecture, every book, every rabbi; everything! I had a look at my first year philosophy essays and it is Rabbi Dessler that I quote. There is nothing wrong with this but it is an eye-opener.
The problem of giving an authentic voice to my beliefs is less about what they beliefs were, than how I would talk about them. Having only been exposed to kiruv Judaism and secular philosophy, I could only frame my beliefs in terms of things such as 'evidence', 'objectivity' and the like. Now, the very way I would talk about any beliefs- ones I agree or disagree with- is completely transformed.
So there's a dilemma. Either I manage to correctly adduce the content of my past beliefs, but in my new language. However, this wouldn't resemble my thought processes at the time, or how I would have verbally reasoned them out. Or I could try and mimic how I would have talked about Judaism at the time (i.e. about evidence). This, however, is at the great risk of just caricaturing myself and play-acting. What I now mean by 'evidence', would be different to what I was then trying to say using that word.
The piece I wrote argued that only through letters such as these could I get closest to what I actually believed. Only there would there be the best fit between philosophical 'thought' (i.e. what I believed) and the psychological 'thought' (i.e. what went through my head). If this doesn't make sense, don't worry. I deleted the passage and explanation. The reason being is that in the letter I don't really get to any coherent statement of belief. I flail around using words like 'evidence' without being able to express my point of view with them. I intuit that answers to my questions will bring me peace of mind without being able to formulate what kind of answers they would have to be.
IV
Despite not giving me a positive statements of belief, the following are worth noting:
1. It is clear that what is at issue for me is not some 'fact' or other. Even when expressing myself in the way I did in my letter, I do not ask for confirmation of a historical event or some scientific proof. With all the references to "G-d says so", what is at issue when asking about the divinity of the Torah is a reason for its authority. What constitutes me accepting it as G-d's word?
2. Despite my wishes at that moment for absolute assurance, neither my observance before or after was grounded on one. Whilst always concerned about why I should accept it as divine, this didn't rely on first having all the answers.
3. Dropping the letter didn't mean dropping the issues. I had many subsequent discussions with R' Hodges trying to 'get at' what I was trying to say. I remember from these discussions that my concern wasn't in showing that G-d literally spoke the whole oral Torah, for example. In fact, the recourse to such an answer was precisely the wrong approach. Why would the authority of a halacha depend on Moses being literally told that it could be derived thus? Instead, I want to know what is it about halacha itself that means I should accept its particular outputs as divine?
I remember saying to him something like- and I really wish I could remember exactly what I meant by it- "If only you could tell me that particular halachot were a result of what the Rabbis did, and not from G-d, I could accept that they were something I have to do". He replied something like "I know what you are getting at but it is not something that I can say".
I don't think it was 'I know what you are saying, but I think you are bonkers and absolutely wrong'. No, instead he pointed me to a book : "Dynamics of Dispute: The Makings of Machlokess in Talmudic Times" by Zvi Lampel. This shows that one need only accept that certain halachot were there 'potentially' in what Moses heard. The reason it was something R' Hodges "could not say" is because it would be the wrong formulation to say "the rabbis made it up"- I agree. Maybe the Rabbi, who I have tagged on this note, will remember more than me about these conversations.
V
So, anyway, the letter doesn't clear up all the issues of why and what I believed but does give me some food for thought
The letter, however, has conclusively cleared up one piece of information. I could never remember the number of my room in halls. Whenever I tried to think what it was, I would only ever come up with '613'. I thought this must have been 'wish-fulfillment' but couldn't get that number out of my mind. As it happens, the letter is addressed '609 Charles Morris Hall'.
Close but no cigar!
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