This picture makes me very unhappy. The 'event' which may or may not have taken place at Lords thankfully took place on an otherwise extremely joyous weekend for me. Yet I can still admire Mr. Johnson's passion and desire to win...(that's a lie!)...but I still do. ( The relevance of this randomer-than-usual intro will hopefully be explained somewhat later. Stay tuned)
Self-righteousness is fun but very irritating. And I would know. There are few greater feelings than listening to someone's long-winded rant and replying with a smug footnote: "Read x and y then get back to me" (when you are entitled to an opinion). But it also won't win you many friends. Whilst attempting to write my final dissertation on the relationship between Maimonides and mysticism, I keep coming across this phenomenon whereby contemporary authors write in their prefaces that they wish to revive Maimonidean rationalism in a Jewish climate which has long-forgotten it. This is also evident from several facebook groups, usually representing the happy-go-lucky world of intellectual Modern Orthodoxy. Many narratives seem to proceed as follows: Silly Chareidim and their irrational beliefs, come and listen to our sensible discussions, cerebral rationality and intellectual honesty and ability to grapple with problems in an intellectually honest way and be intellectually honest. And by the way, we are intellectually honest, (lalalalalala). As you can tell from my tone, it irritates me somewhat.
A story will be posted about chareidi attitudes towards women: How absurd! Everyone comments. An article appears about chareidi backwardness and lack of self-sufficiency: How preposterous! They all cry. Gosh, why can't they all see the light like we do? A book was recently published gloriously chronicling examples of ultra-Orthodox censorship over the years. I do not claim that it was made for insidious reasons but you've got to admit, it is perfectly marketed to an audience which will lap this stuff up. These attitudes are sometimes linked with an attempt to reintegrate Judaism with the world of Maimonidean rationalism, as if by employing their form of scepticism they are emulating our great rabbinic predecessor. And ironically for a someone who loves nothing more than a long cynical rant along the lines of David Mitchell, my problem is that it is all so darned negative.
Believe me, I think it is a wonderful thing that the internet now provides outlets for those seeking broader perspectives on the world and religious life to find meaning in different areas. However, I have noticed even within the past five years or so a marked shift in attitudes brought about, it seems, by access to social media. There is, it seems, no reason to think about much anymore. Anything provocative or controversial that is presented as fact or the way things have always been can be quickly verified/falsified/disputed based on a quick google search. Access to information couldn't be easier. So it is much easier to challenge popular misconceptions and it is now rare to find anyone who doesn't find the idea of Artscroll history mildly entertaining. But I feel that all this ease of access to information also creates a lack of curiosity and desire to search for things as well as a slightly bewildering excitement every time something new and juicy is found. But we need to take a step back to think about what we are actually reading.
As twenty twenty cricket and twitter make all too clear, labels and headlines are fun and convenient. Categorisation, furthermore, is crucial for making sense of the world. The age of reason bred an obsession with putting things into boxes and assuming that everything could be known with empirical accuracy, given enough time. This applied not only to scientific discoveries but also to grouping people together.
I would argue that this has classically been applied to Maimonides and a group of other medieval Jewish thinkers. They were 'Rationalists' who studied philosophy and the sciences available to them. In general, they were keen to avoid miraculous explanations and tried to align their religious truths with the power of the mind.
This mindset is particularly appealing to the modern intellectual Orthodox Jew, repelled by certain practises which they are convinced lie within the realms of superstition. Hence, 'Rationalist Judaism'. Good label. Good slogan.
Cue smugness and the feeling that going to University, reading a few books and participating in blog discussions with like-minded people gives you a free ticket to lord it over the ignorant rabble largely identified with the chareidi/modern chareidi/yeshivish world. Intelligentsia against the proles.
But one of the core elements of medieval rationalism is conspicuously absent: the focus on a deep and passionate love of God. Reinventing the past isn't within the copyright domain of chareidi hagiographers, it is something that we do all the time to try and understand our present, to some degree or another. And it seems that it is this element of deep-felt religious passion, so key to the medieval mindset, and so pivotal to their rationalism, which has been mysteriously ignored by our modern facebookers looking for the quick-quotes-quill access to sources provided by our wonderful web.
So let us pop into our time machine to medieval Andalusia, with the Rambam sitting in one room, presumably conversing with contemporary New York 'rationalists' right?
Firstly, the concept of rationalism has had vastly different connotations in different contexts. Many medieval rabbis, from R. Sa'adia Gaon in the ninth century to Hasdai Crescas in the 15th emphasised that knowledge of God could and should be achieved through the use of the intellect, and that understanding of Science and philosophical proofs could lead the individual to knowledge of God. But it was bound to the notion that a. God could be known in this way and b. without it, love and understanding of Him would be lacking. Miracles were largely looked down upon because they were seen to undermine God, not glorify Him.
Yet to the modern mind the world rationalism has connotations that are based on the enlightenment precedent of religion within the bounds of reason alone. From the 18th Century onwards, few have maintained the idea that proofs can tell us about anything beyond empirical reality. Today the world rationalism brings to mind someone like Richard Dawkins. In fact, the twentieth century seems to have undermined the idea that anything can be known with such a sense of certainty.
For many Orthodox minds, rationalism has connotations of reform, scepticism and secularism. Even Maimonides' contemporaries were worried that the legitimacy of his position could lead to widespread apostasy. Not that this is necessarily a problem in itself, or that this is any reason to disregard the importance of the mind in service of God but it is problematic as a slogan because much has changed in the eight hundred years since the Rambam was around. There is a widespread view that intellect is something cerebral, cold and rational and emotion is something passionate but fundamentally irrational. We cannot help but project our conceptions of the present onto the past.
The consequences of adopting this position, in practise, largely seems to mean pointing out the flaws in practises seen as superstitious and mindsets seen as silly and is essentially defensive. This rabbi said do this because of this unfathomable reason, rabbi subsequently mocked by rationalist group and someone mentions what the Rambam must have thought. If there is any passion at all, it is negative.
And it is this that I feel is one of the main struggles for contemporary Orthodoxy. What do we actually really truly care about? If we look inside the Rambam's writings many will be surprised to see that aside from emphasising the importance of the mind, it is the importance of thought leading to a passionate and in fact lustful relationship with the Almighty that is the hallmark of many sections of his writings. In hilkhot Teshuvah 10:2, for example, he compares the appropriate love of God to an individual lovesick over a woman out of desire for her.
At the end of Moreh Nevuchim, popularly understood as a work belonging to the realm of 'philosophy', the Rambam distinguishes between love (ohev) and lust (choshek) towards God, and describes in great detail how the ideal state is to be constantly enraptured in this love. This was part of being a 'rationalist'.
Nowhere is this gap in thinking more evident than the very difficult passages where Maimonides explains the reason for commandments, giving them largely historical and practical meanings, seemingly stripping them of all intrinsic significance. Again, particularly to the modern Ashkenazic mind, these reasons remind the individual of Biblical criticism and the historical school of the 19th Century. People often quote these reasons as being the 'only' meaning that Maimonides saw in them.
But as David Hartman and Isadore Twersky have argued in a manner which I find deeply profound, for Maimonides all things needed to contain wisdom that could be appreciated by all - ki hi chochmatchem uvinatchem le'einei ha Amim. Wisdom in itself was a divine property and the prime reason for explaining Mitzvoth in the eyes of Maimonides was to see the wisdom of the One who gave them, leading the individual to appreciate God Himself. For Maimonides, everything led to love of God. "It was not a kind of latter day humanism or rationalism (religion within the limits of reason alone) …an expression of love, desiring to bring man closer to God via knowledge." (I. Twersky).
It is therefore important to ask ourselves whether the views that we happen to like can truly be found in the past? Should our 'rationalist Judaism' not also incorporate the passionate and lustful love for the divine found in the writings of Maimonides? Would that even be possible?
I suppose my observation is this: Passion is such a fundamental component of being a religious person. Without it, practise becomes sterile, meaningless and passive. Yes, it can get carried away and lead to extremism. But at its core it contains something extremely powerful which enthuses and enlivens its adherents and is essential to its perpetuation. It is not the same as having a token kumsitz every now and again, it is a spirit that enlivens the whole of existence.
I see two main religious spheres where this mentality exists in contemporary Jewish life, but admittedly in very specific forms: 1. For Talmud Torah, specifically, the act of learning. 2. For Israel. In the chareidi/yeshivah worldview, for example, what is essentially promoted as an ideal is an exclusive enthusiasm for learning Torah. Learning B'iyyun (depth), in many ways, is the classic expression of this. In pursuit of depth, context or covering ground becomes somewhat irrelevant as the individual dedicates themselves to a passionate analysis of the text.
Yes, there may be a million other reasons why the chareidim/modern chareidim/ cute yeshivish people can be criticised as a society, why in practise they may not reflect their ideals, why the mindset is stifling and soul destroying etc. but it remains a community which idealises and emotionally invests in the act of studying the word of God. Talmud Torah is raised to a metaphysical and practical plinth and becomes the ultimate source of sustenance. There is a fire there. There is a deep passion (See Mitch).
Similarly, (mutatis mutandis - yes I said it I said it!) the religious Zionist movement links its very essence with a love of the land of Israel, something that people feel immensely strongly about and can therefore adopt with vibrancy and dynamism. Passion is a deep part of its identity. People who go on Aliyah always try and tell everyone else to join them there. Whilst this can be annoying, it also shows that they care.
But I struggle to see this passion in contemporary Orthodox life or this vibrancy amongst people calling themselves rationalists. I am not talking about enthusiasm for causes, there are plenty of examples of that, but a specifically religious passion that seems very foreign to the modern mind. In a climate where universalism with a particular dislike of religious particularism and a disinterest towards the truth values of religious life is prevalent, ideologies championing integration above all else are going to struggle to maintain Jewish vibrancy.
For example, I may be passionate about human rights and climate change and rightfully view this as a religious impulse but will it enhance the specifically 'Jewish' elements of existence or will they remain forever distinct? Certainly, we can talk about commitment to halakha and observance of laws all day long but if they are constantly being relegated in terms of importance then these words of commitment seem very empty.
The struggle of Orthodoxy in the modern world, it seems to me, is no longer about the attempt to combine competing ideologies. Modernity has been and gone (hehe). It is about retaining any religious spirit at all in a world which is indifferent to it. It isn't about adherence to a particular system or brand. We may imagine that certain individuals in the past stood for slogans like Torah u Madda/ Chochmah etc. as though they were adherents of a political party. But these lines sound very tired these days. Most people outside the Israeli chareidi scene don't need convincing about the need for work or at the very least the practical benefits of a secular education. But where is the fire? What is it that gives us that spark to get up and do something? As key issues are beginning to create more pronounced divides within Orthodoxy I wonder whether it will essentially become a case of one side caring exclusively about universalist values and one side about specifically particularist ones?
For me, the greatness of Maimonides lies not in his ability to synthesise two worlds together but rather to be impassioned by both and how love of one boosted the other in a manner which saw Truth as the divine stamp. But 'Rationalist Judaism'? Not so much.
To be continued...
