01 Sep VAYALECH: WHO HAS THE RIGHT TO RE-PACKAGE JUDAISM? A 2000 YEAR OLD DEBATE WHETHER TO “GET OUT OF THE BOX”
The Scroll
This week’s parsha
(Vayalech) relates the
dramatic events that
transpired during
Moshe’s last day on
earth. Among the
many things he did
on that fateful day was committing the entire
Torah (the Chumash, the Chamisha Chumshei
Torah) to writing. The Torah scrolls we use
today are copies of copies of copies of the
original Torah scroll written by Moshe on the
day of his passing, on 7 Adar.
After completing the writing of the full Torah,
Moshe commanded the Leviim, “Take this
Torah scroll and place it at the side of the Ark
of the Covenant of the Lord your G-d, and it
shall be there as a witness for you.” The
Mishkan in the desert and later the Mikdash
in Yerushalayim housed the Aron Hakodesh
containing Two Luchos inscribed with the
Aseret Hadibrot and the newly completed
Torah scroll needed to be placed at the side of
this Aron.
The exact location of the Torah scroll on the
side of the Aron inspired a debate between the
Talmudic Sages. Rabbi Meir held that the
Torah scroll needed to be placed inside the
Aron, at the side of the Two Luchot. Rabbi
Judah was of the opinion that a shelf protruded
from the outside of the Aron and the Torah
scroll was placed on that shelf.
The logic behind their argument lay in the
proper interpretation of Moshe’s above-
quoted words, “Take this Torah scroll, and
place it at the side of the Aron.” According to
Rabbi Judah, “at the side of the Aron” is to be
understood literally—that the Torah scroll
ought to be placed not inside but outside the
Aron. Rabbi Meir, on the other hand, believes
that the words “at the side of the Aron” are
merely coming to tell us that the Torah scroll
should be placed not between the two Luchot,
but rather at the side of the Luchot, next to the
interior wall of the Aron.
Three Questions
Three questions come to mind.
Firstly, why did Rabbi Meir feel compelled to
impose an apparently twisted interpretation on
the words “at the side of the Aron”? Why did
Rabbi Meir not embrace Rabbi Judah’s simple
and straightforward explanation that when
Moshe instructed the Torah scroll to be placed
“at the side of the Aron” he meant it literally,
outside the Aron?
Second, why was there a need altogether to
have the Torah scroll situated in such close
proximity to the Aron?
Finally, we discussed numerous times that the
Torah and all of its commandments and
episodes were transcribed to serve as a Divine
Blueprint for living, as a road map for life’s
challenging journeys. How can a 21st-century
human being glean wisdom and inspiration
from an ancient commandment to place a
Torah scroll at the side of an Aron, at a time
when we have no Aron and no Luchot? What
type of relevance can Moshe’s instruction to
the Leviim carry for our lives today?
The Root vs. the Branches
Our Sages have said that the Aseret Hadibrot
presented at Har Sinai and inscribed on the
Luchot Habrit embodied the quintessence of
the entire Torah, all Five Books. All
perspectives, themes, ideas, laws, ethics, and
stories of Torah are encapsulated in the brief
620 letters of the Aseret Hadibrot. The Five
Books of Moshe, then, serve essentially as a
commentary to the Aseret Hadibrot,
elaborating and explaining the background,
meaning, and significance of these ten pillars
of the Jewish faith.
The Luchot constitute the source, the
epicenter, the nucleus of Judaism; the Five
Books are the elaboration, the explanation,
the outgrowth.
The debate between Rabbi Meir and Rabbi
Judah on the kinship between the Torah scroll
and the Luchot is not merely a technical
argument concerning the proximity of two
physical entities; but rather a profound
disagreement on the fundamental
methodologies of the development and
communication of Judaism.
How close do we need to uphold the
connection between the core of Torah and its
expansion? Are we capable of “leaving the
box” containing the Luchot without losing the
“real thing”?
This is by no means an abstract dilemma.
How does one communicate ancient truths to
a young generation molded in a secular
weltanschauung? How does one present a
Torah which is over 3,000 years old to a
modern 21st-century iPhone-addict? How do
we pass on the gift of “In the beginning, G-d
created heaven and earth” to Stanford and
Yale graduates for whom Charles Darwin
holds more sway than Moshe?
Are we to present Judaism in its original form
and composition, without employing modern-
day terminology, techniques, and structures
of thought? Or must we take Judaism “out of
the box” and re-package it in contemporary
language?
The argument rages to this very day. Some
teachers and presenters of Judaism are
accused of lacking the ability to communicate
to a “new generation” of Jews, while other
teachers are accused of “liberalizing”
Judaism, of diluting its pristine ideas on order
to accommodate the modern Jew or non-Jew.
One of the Ten Martyrs executed by Rome in
the second century CE was
Rabbi Chutzpis HameTurgeman, whose
name means Rabbi Chutzpis the Elucidator.
The Kabbalists comment that to truly
elucidate and present something in a new
form you have to have Chutzpah, hence his
name was Chutzpis.
The Light and the Vessels
The Talmud says something profoundly
moving about Rabbi Meir: It is known to the
creator of the world that Rabbi Meir surpassed
his entire generation and he had no equal.
Why then did they not establish the law
according to his opinion? Because the Sages
could not comprehend the depth of his
wisdom.” Rabbi Meir was misunderstood by
his own colleagues; his ideas were too
advanced for his times.
“Meir” in Hebrew means “the Illuminator.”
The light that emanated from Rabbi Meir’s
mind and heart were too profound for his
colleagues and students. Why? Because
Rabbi Meir was of the opinion that all
interpretation and development of Torah-
thought must remain intimately bound with
its source. The commentary and exposition
may never be removed from the space of their
progenitor. The Torah must be placed right
near the Luchot. To dilute the light in order to
accommodate the vessels will do an injustice
to the integrity of the message.
According to Rabbi Judah, however, the word
of G-d needs to leave the perimeters of the
sacred Aron and be brought outward.
Judah, Yehudah in Hebrew, means surrender
or submission. One has to surrender his or her
own elevated state of consciousness in order
to reach out and present the Torah to the
student who would not be able to absorb the
intense light dwelling “inside the box.”
Judaism, Rabbi Judah argued, needed to be
presented in a manner that would make it
accessible, relevant, and pertinent to people
trained in a different mindset and even those
educated in the schools of Athens.
For according to Rabbi Judah this is not a
cop-out, but rather a great noble act of self-
surrender (Yehudah). It is easier to just repeat
the old phrases and sayings, to remain secure
in the ancient pathways, but you need to
transcend your comfort zone in order to bring
the light and truth of Torah to those outside.
I once received an e-mail from a weekly
reader, a very learned and observant Jew from
Los Angeles: “Rabbi Jacobson, would you
cease transcribing your psycho-babble and
begin teaching good old Judaism.”
So, I wrote back: “You are of the opinion of
Rabbi Meir; in my emails I attempt, at
times, to follow the path of Rabbi Judah. May
G-d be with me in my writing.”
Loyal to the Source
Yet here is the critical catch: Even according
to Rabbi Judah, the Torah must always remain
connected to its source by means of a plank of
wood.
What this means is this: There is a difference
between presenting Judaism in terminology
and methodology that can speak to the mind
and heart of modern man vs. attempting to
prove that Judaism conforms to modern
trends of thought. The former path is noble;
the latter path is intellectually dishonest, as it
does not seek to discover the authentic
message of Judaism, only to create a fluffy
Judaism that does not challenge the comfort
zones of modern man.
This distinction between the two approaches
has been profoundly blurred in recent years,
and the results are obvious. The former
approach has given countless students the
opportunity to challenge themselves by the
Divine truths of Torah; the latter approach has
brought down Torah to suit the fancy of every
imagination. In the end it comes down to the
question: How confident are you in the truth
of Torah? Are you employing modern thought
merely to communicate Torah, or are you
employing it in order to confirm to yourself
and others the appeal of Judaism?
What Rabbi Judah is saying is that as far out-
of-the-box as you travel, a “plank of
wood” must always connect you to the
original, pristine “Tablets” inside the box.
The link between the nucleus of Torah and its
expansions must always remain evident. If
not, you may be depriving yourself and your
students from the vibrant, pulsating, divine
wellsprings of G-d’s word. I once had a
conversation with a friend, a popular rabbi,
who is heavily involved in broadcasting
Judaism to the secular world. I told him that
in my humble opinion, his communication of
Judaism was lacking the energy that emanates
from someone who is entrenched
in serious Torah learning. I told him that he
must dedicate time each day to study
Talmud—those parts of Talmud that deal with
intricate Jewish law and rituals that
are abstract and not for “public consumption.”
Only when he will be entrenched in the source
of the wisdom, will his communication to the
outside world be real and effective. He
challenged my position. Yet I believe this is
the truth: Only when you are submerged in
the highest and deepest level of Torah study,
will your communication of “sound bite”
Judaism be authentic and meaningful. A
“plank of wood” must always link the outside
to the inside.
Who has the right to “re-package” Judaism?
Only someone who is selfless (Yehuda), has
no ego involved, and his only agenda is to
share the word of G-d with others, a person
who is completely loyal to the authentic
source. But if someone lacks these qualities,
they will frequently compromise and dilute, if
not pervert, the pure waters of Judaism with
the tarnished bacteria of trends and notions
that are alien to Torah.