Saturday, February 22, 2014

Mystery and Magic

Jewish biblical exegesis operates on multiple levels. Rashi, who nearly a millennium later remains the most influential exegete, employed two methods of interpretation: Peshat, which is concerned with the plain sense of Scripture, and derash, which adds content to the written Torah from the midrashim of the Sages. Both approaches seek the “true” meaning of the text.

But while peshat takes the Torah’s words at face value, reading them in context and in a straightforward manner, derash amplifies the text and can offer greater depth of meaning, especially when Scripture, as written, is ambiguous or lacks detail.

Beyond peshat and derash exegesis, there is also an ancient Jewish tradition of esoteric or mystical interpretation. Such an approach to Scripture looks beneath the surface of the text -- even deeper than derash -- for hidden meanings related to the nature of God and the metaphysical world. Nahmanides, for example, may explain a passage on three different levels, using peshat, derash, and kabbalah.

Just as there are multiple ways to read the Bible, both literal and nonliteral, there are a variety of approaches to comprehending the nature of the universe and the nature of man. While ancient man was awed by seemingly supernatural forces surrounding him, modern science sees a world governed by physical laws and mathematical formulas. For the most part, scientists “read” nature with an eye toward the peshat, taking the world literally and without embellishment; Galileo famously stated that the “Book of Nature” -- the universe -- is written in mathematics. With respect to man’s inner world, some neuroscientists and evolutionary psychologists view the mind as the sum of the brain’s electrochemical activity; they know nothing of the soul. The very origin of the human mind, in their view, may have been an evolutionary fluke, if an extraordinary one.

Since the Scientific Revolution, we have acquired a firm grasp on the Book of Nature’s peshat. The universe follows predictable rules that are better understood with each passing year. But religious people try to read nature’s text at the level of derash; some may even find mystical meaning between the lines of physical law. This is not to say that scientists cannot see beyond the peshat of the universe. Perhaps even more than non-scientists, they have the means to appreciate the mysteries within nature. Albert Einstein, no stranger to cosmic mathematics and certainly not religious in a theistic sense, spoke of his own profound sense of the mystery lying behind the world we perceive and, as a result of this experience, considered himself a religious man. Modern cosmology, as much as it has already revealed, continues to evince further mystery. Mystery is the derash behind nature’s peshat.

But we should not confuse mystery with magic (even mysticism does not imply a magical worldview). Man – even modern man – marvels with wonder at the world’s mysteries, and this experience may cause him to fear and love God. But humanity no longer has any use for magic, performed by primitive people to exercise control over the gods and nature. In fact, magical thinking and practice is an affront to modern man’s dignity -- his divine image -- represented by the intellectual and technological progress he has achieved in the last few centuries.

In our own religious community, we have witnessed an unfortunate resurgence of magic and superstition, often masquerading as religion and cynically preying on the desperate. Miracle workers, astrologers, faith healers, and purveyors of blessings (for a small donation, they will magically produce a shidduch), have become an increasingly familiar presence in our religious institutions. “Bible Codes” – for example, generating the names of historical figures from equidistant letter sequences -- continue to be promoted, as if the text of the Torah were a word search puzzle or a Ouija Board (those with genuine interest in word magic can purchase the Milton Bradley version). While such efforts may come from a desire to bolster faith – especially among young people – in our skeptical age, they are misguided and will ultimately fail.

The Torah consists of peshat, derash and, for some, hidden mystical meaning, but it is not a magical text; God has much better ways to impress us. And while the universe remains a source of mystery, with a peshat and dersah of its own, it is not magic. The Book of Nature is written in a different language.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Tzuras Ha-Daf

My son, a recent Bar Mitzvah, is a subscriber to the new Koren Talmud, which features Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz’s translation and commentary in English.  The new "Steinsaltz" may find adherents among Talmud students at all levels, but it should be especially well received by those interested in the peshat, or basic comprehension, of the Talmud page.  Often dismissed as “making a laining,” acquiring peshat is an undervalued goal of Talmud study and Talmud education.   

Facilitating readability with punctuation, vocalization, and an expansive translation, the Koren edition -- like its Hebrew predecessor -- also provides context to a sugya with topical discussions (“Notes”), halakhic summaries (“Halakha”), biography (“Personalities”), etymology (“Language”), and other realia (“Background”) in the margins of the daf.  These are the same features Steinsaltz fans have enjoyed for decades, and we can celebrate the fact that this high-quality product is now accessible to those without training in Modern Hebrew (a growing number of us, sadly, even in the Modern Orthodox community).

The translation-commentary and the supporting material are not the only innovations of the Koren.  At least as significant -- in Koren’s view, at least -- are the updated “Vilna Shas” pages at the back (or front) of each volume.  In his introductory remarks, publisher Matthew Miller proudly extols "the classic tzurat hadaf (pagination) of Vilna, used by scholars since the 1800s."  Indeed, he places tzurat hadaf at the top of the list of the new edition's notable features.  

Although it has many merits, the Vilna section of the Koren does not compare favorably with the original Hebrew-only Steinsaltz.   

The return to the Vilna format (a trend that began some years ago with a tzurat ha-daf edition of the Hebrew Steinsaltz) is significant because it is a regression, reversing the groundbreaking approach of the original edition.  When it first appeared, an outstanding feature of the Steinsaltz -- second only to the Modern Hebrew translation -- was the new layout, a fundamental and deliberate departure from the standard Vilna pagination. Aside from vocalization and punctuation, Rabbi Steinsaltz introduced a new system of paragraphs to break up the text into logical sections. And, he split each amud of the Vilna page into a two-page spread.  For many Talmud students, the modern look-and-feel of that edition was, and remains, its most appealing feature. To its detractors as well as its advocates, the first Steinsaltz did away with tzuras ha-daf in its current literal sense.

On the pages of the Koren, something is gained, but something is also lost.  The original Steinsaltz has a tangible airiness -- there is ample spacing between lines of mostly equal width -- allowing the reader to more easily follow and grasp the sometimes knotty text.  The aesthetic clarity of the layout minimizes intimidation and eases the way to comprehension.  In contrast, the punctuated Vilna pages of the Koren feel busy and crowded (true to their tzuras ha-daf ideal, the Koren editors painstakingly mirrored the layout of the late nineteenth-century Romm family Talmud down to the width of each line).  Side by side with the Koren, the Vilna-Romm edition is actually neater and more welcoming, despite its lack of nikud

An idealization of the Vilna layout also appears to underlie a baffling practice in contemporary early Talmud education.  Neither the original Steinsaltz nor, for that matter, any modern, punctuated edition has been widely adopted in elementary and high school yeshivot.  Some educators apparently assign more value to tzuras ha-daf than to textual clarity; I have heard others argue that a Spartan diet of Talmud without “dots” will serve our children well as they advance in Torah study.  But when young students are introduced to Chumash, do we insist that they read from the layout found in the Sefer Torah, where tzurat ha-daf actually has some halakhic significance?  Do we worry that our children will become textually impaired by relying on nikud and separations between verses? Sixth and seventh-graders especially, but advanced students as well, waste time, energy, and precious educational resources parsing a text that is difficult to understand even after it can be read.  We enable greater -- not less -- textual mastery, and detract nothing from genuine tradition, by advancing the aesthetics and clarity of the Talmud page.    

But it is still comforting, I suppose, that this revised Steinsaltz might now be acceptable to a certain segment of the community that could not stomach the original.

There is a certain irony to the term tzuras ha-daf.  Ancient and medieval philosophers distinguished between chomer (matter) and tzurah (form).  Plato, most famously, spoke of a world of ideal forms, representing perfect reality.  Shadows of those forms, he said, exist in our world only in their inferior, material manifestations. I think we can all agree that the layout of the Vilna Shas is far from a Platonic form. Rather than tzuras ha-daf, chomer ha-daf more accurately conveys an obsession with layout.  In its truest sense, tzurat ha-daf is the text and its meaning, rather than its appearance.  

One hundred years from now, tzuras ha-daf may mean something radically different than it does today.  In our nascent digital age, e-readers of all kinds have made the format of the printed page mostly irrelevant.  I suspect that many Talmud students have already sacrificed tzuras ha-daf for the convenience of studying on their iPads (though, to be fair, a Vilna-based app is available in the ArtScroll Digital Library).

Perhaps, on some level, the Talmud may be regarded as a sacred text, even if that category is normally reserved for Scripture.  But if the text -- the true tzurah of the Talmud page -- is sacred, then pagination is only a sacred cow.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Cursing Copernicus

 . . . the evil Copernicus, may the names of the evil rot! . . .
The sun, the moon, the planets, the stars, and all heavenly objects orbit the earth every twenty-four hours.
It must be publicly stated that books on astronomy are by far the worst of all scientific books, since they are full of heresy, hatred of God (God save us!), hatred of Judaism, hatred of truth, nonsense and madness, such that it is a great mystery how these 'scientists' and their books are so much more foolish and full of venomous blasphemy than all their other scientific writings.
-- R. Yosef Zalman Bloch, Be-Emunah Shelemah (Monsey, 2012), cited by Marc B. Shapiro on Seforim Blog (note 12). My translation.

So this is what we have come to.  Not only the Big Bang, but Copernicus, Galileo, and heliocentrism itself are the enemies of Judaism (and of truth).  Daas Torah rules that the Earth is stationary.  "And yet, it stands!"

We should resist the urge to engage such nonsense on its own terms.  Do we really need to prove, from a "Torah persepctive," that the Earth goes around the Sun?  Must we compile lists of gedolei Yisrael who endorsed Copernicus to counter what are, to be generous, the twisted ravings of a grotesquely misguided piety?  Does the truth require a hekhsher?

In my view, obscurantism of this kind shares nothing with the core principles and values of Judaism.  Instead, R. Bloch's position is more in line with seventeenth-century Roman Catholic objections to Galileo (Galileo's observations proved Copernicus right).  Thus, Robert Cardinal Bellarmine's 1615 letter to Paolo Foscarini, who had dared to say that Galileo's conclusions did not oppose Scripture (the full text is here):

But to want to affirm that the Sun really is fixed in the center of the heavens and only revolves around itself without traveling from East to West, and that the Earth is situated in the third sphere and revolves with great speed around the Sun, is a very dangerous thing, not only by irritating all the philosophers and scholastic theologians, but also by injuring our holy faith and rendering the Holy Scriptures false.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Introduction to the Song of Songs by Amos Hakham (An Excerpt)


Please see my recent post on Seforim Blog, a translation of an excerpt from Amos Hakham's Introduction to the Song of Songs in the Da'at Mikra Bible commentary series (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1973).