We don't need no education? The Rambam's theory of education and Test Cricket.

We don't need no education. We don't need no thought control....We learned more from a three minute record baby than we ever learned in school.... 20 years of schooling and they put you on the day shift. School is a repressive institution which stifles creativity and doesn't teach you anything useful. Thus spake the rock n rollers. Stick it to the man.

We need education to get GCSEs. We need thought control to get A-Levels. We learned what we needed to learn from 20 years of schooling to avoid the proverbial day shift and get a degree followed by a job and money. Hello, real world. Thus spake the City-workers. If I were to harmonise both approaches I would say that they agree on the fact that education has no real value if it doesn't end up with a piece of paper which can be handed in for cash. So keep on revising.

Education is something I think about a lot. What is its purpose? What is its relationship with a meaningful or successful life? Is it really something that is only good as an instrument for financial or social betterment or is it really of a more substantive value, and if so, can that be located or identified? As we come towards Pesach, the concept of passing on messages and values to the next generation arises. The four sons. Is aspiration and vision for the future something that can be communicated?  Is it really better to have tried and failed than not to have tried at all, is there really no success like failure? I apologise for the outpouring but fear not, more is about to come.

Jewish education remains something very close to my heart and yet a source of great frustration to me. It is what I see at the very heart of Jewish history and the Jewish future, and the crowning Jewel of our lives yet attitudes towards it and its deployment needs rethinking. In a sentence: Lack of adventure. At the moment that's all I've got so that's not very useful. I will continue more eloquently when I have had time to think it through properly. Until then, on with the rant....

Certainly, everyone would like schooling to improve and we like to bandy about generic statements about everything swinging to the right like a mad baseball batter (I thought that cricket references might be lost on people)  and the Jewish world being converted into a large cholent pot but what do we actually envision in practise? I recently saw on a facebook group a post about a teacher wanting to give a class de-bunking commonly held myths in the Jewish community. But as someone put it, is that really what Modern Orthodoxy has become - a Jewish equivalent of mythbusters?

Well for me one issue can be expressed in the following terms: Everything in life is conceived of in terms of artificial peaks rather than in terms of continuous development. I have already mentioned in a previous blog that for learning, it is Yeshivah. For the development of Jewish thought and philosophy, it is sixth form. I remember sixth form as a particular halcyon era for religious self-confidence. Suited, inspired and nearing full adulthood, the frum sixth former has a particular conception of life and isn't afraid to let everyone know it. This easily translates into Yeshivah life, but as the years pass that particular music, if it doesn't quite die, usually switches to classic FM and puts the coffee on.

Ah! They cry. It's a failure of the system! It's your failure to return to Yeshiva enough during bein ha Z'manim! The zeal of youth dissipates into something else. Some jump and say - Cynicism! You are all cynics, raaaah. Or, alternatively, it is something to do with growing up. Which brings me to the Rambam and education...

Without going into too much detail as a full analysis of the Rambam's educational vision would take many pages and is something that would require a separate study ( please let me know, those of you who have read this far, whether you know of any such study) but there is one thing that strikes me as particularly important. Everything, from love of God, to understanding of Heaven, is conceived of in terms of stages of development. This expresses itself in an historical perspective and on a personal level. 

For example, sacrifices are depicted in terms of transforming and elevating prayer formats that had previously idolatrous connotations. Similarly, regarding anthropomorphism in the Torah, it was a necessary means of relating to God but ultimately would be completely rejected. 
But in terms of educating, this expresses itself in terms of the emphasis on physical benefits in terms of reward and punishment that ultimately lead to a more refined, spiritual conception even though at each stage the incentive is not the ultimate purpose or end of the exercise. e.g. giving sweets as an incentive to learn Chumash, giving rabbinic titles in order to encourage learning of Torah.  

Why is this important? Because according to the Rambam there is a fascinating duality of what is true at any given moment in the stage of development and what ultimately constitutes real understanding. For a five year old to be taught using sweets and have heaven described in terms of physical pleasures is not wrong, it is a necessary stage in their religious development. For them it is completely and entirely true because that is what is correct for them at that given point. For a 25 year old it would be 'wrong' as it expresses an immaturity of understanding. I think that often we forget that life is constantly changing and so are we, and that is something to be embraced, by and large, despite many noises to the contrary.  

In contemporary terms, I would say that this could be said regarding attachment to charismatic individuals. When we are younger we can be overwhelmed by the brilliance of an older role-model who seems to embody everything that the religious person should be. Saying a statement in the name of so and so becomes holy writ and a wellspring of wisdom by virtue of them saying it. But as we get older invariably we see that the picture is more complicated. Sometimes we see other sides to these people that we could not imagine growing up. And that can be disillusioning. Very disillusioning. It doesn't need to involve anything significant, it's just no-one ever told you they were human beings before. Often they didn't either. Maybe no-one told them. When the sum total of everything you hold valuable takes on the form of a human being, you run a heavy risk of becoming jaded a few years down the line. Particularly if they are the cause of your religious journey. 

But part of 'growing up' involves realising that whilst that was a wonderful stage in life, it may no longer be relevant or appropriate any more. It was right at the time but you can't be 18 for ever. A valuable tool I have found in Academic study is the training to see things from different perspectives, angles and colours, and understanding that nuance is an essential part of development in all walks of life. It  enhances the world's beauty. And part of that is learning that education is not really a 'thing' but a quest or process. 

In some ways, the question we should we asking when we read the Rambam regarding education is not what he thought but rather how he thought it. In fact, the Rambam warns that those who are incapable of this subtlety will not get much out of his introduction to the Mishnah. Interestingly, the people he accuses of this are the learned scholars; it is not a question of knowledge but one of attitude. I saw a great quote yesterday from 20th Century Jewish Historian Gershom Scholem regarding some of his predecessors in Academic scholarship as “giants in terms of their knowledge and pygmies in terms of their insight.”

 For this is I think the very essence of education. Yes, there is no question that without the bare bones of knowledge in whatever capacity you have very little but it is the aspiration, vision and desire that breathes life into the dry bones. How can I become a wise person, a truly good person without aspiring for it? Maybe this is what I will be thinking of at the seder night. Not so what what I will teach my children but how I will do so. 
  
Which leads me on to the noble game that is Test Cricket. Thankfully we have been eliminated from the world cup so that we can focus on the authentic form of the game. Five days long. Batting two innings. Each individual stroke means very little but rather builds slowly and surely. You can bowl a bad ball but you must persevere to reap the ultimate rewards. You can hit a six but it counts for little unless you consolidate it. Every wicket must be planned and sweated out. And the mind games. Oh the mind games. Sometimes you can't score a run for a whole session. It all seems to be going downhill but you must remain positive, believing the runs will come, for if you're mind is conquered your wicket will surely follow. In 20/20, however... Ok enough of that, those of you who are still reading will get the analogy. Most life lessons can be learned from Test cricket. Fact. No arguments. 

And finally, Dylan's new album Shadows in the night. I just want to correct two common misconceptions about music's equivalent of Yoda or Don Corleone. One - that he can't sing. Nonsense, no voice is more evocative, Visions of Johanna, Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands ayin sham. Two - that he's all about the words. Also nonsense. In fact, Dylan's words rarely work as poetry by themselves (I would know I have the book of Lyrics), it's all about the voice and the way he sings it.
 Why? Linked to the above. The secret of the lord Bob's brilliance is that his songs never seem to be talking about one thing specifically. They assume multiple meanings. They are very rarely explicit because they recognise that emotions and life are rarely explicit. Even in his divorce album 'Blood on the Tracks', the messages are never that life sucks - no matter if you're born to be the king or pawn the line is thinly drawn between joy and sorrow (S+G, but thought it fit the sentiment well). 
They contain hope, regret, remorse, desperation, despair etc. 

This is what makes music great, it connects to that which is really real within us, that which cannot be fully described or vocalised. Which is why the new album is such a treat. It takes old American hits sung by stars such as Frank Sinatra and channels them through the voice which has seen many things in his 73 years. And that is what you hear. For the Dylan version of Dayeinu, stay tuned. 

I hope to elaborate more on education and my thoughts on its importance and direction if I have time over the next few weeks... Thank you Horwich/Wolfie/Chaf for making me write this post!