The following is an excerpt from Chapter 1 of my book,
"Apikorsus!"
There's
a story that often gets repeated when the subject of apikorsus comes up. It usually goes something like this:
An apikores movedto town, and the rabbi visited to welcome
him. They talked for a while, and the rabbi asked if the newcomer would come
with him to mincha.
"Thank
you for the invitation," the apikores
said, "But I'm an atheist."
"Really!"
The rabbi said. "I've never met an atheist before. I'd love to get your
perspective on the daf I'm
learning."
"You
don't understand." The apikores
said. "I'm an atheist. I don't learn gemara."
"I
see." The rabbi said. "But I assume you've learned through mishnayos. I'm in the middle of…"
The
apikores shook his head.
"No?"
The rabbi said. "Well, you must have a good understanding of Tanach, the foundation of Judaism,with
the meforshim. After all, you've
concluded that they're all wrong! Perhaps we could discuss this week's parsha."
The apikores shook his head again.
"Rabbi, I'm an atheist. I don't do any of that religious stuff."
"How
could you have rejected Judaism?" The rabbi asked. "To reject
Judaism, you first have to be a scholar. You haven't studied anything. You're
not an atheist, you're an ignoramus."
The
story is told to make the point that one must be thoroughly acquainted with
Judaism before he is qualified to reject it. The apikores in the story is not qualified to reject Judaism. Instead,
he's just a fool, talking about things he knows nothing about.
Some
people expand on the theme, like one rebbe
who told his class, "Ask the apikores.
Did you ever read Aristotle? Plato? Moreh
nevuchim? No? Then tell him you are not an atheist. You are an am haaretz (an ignoramus)."[1]
There are
several problems with the premise of the story. The first is that it often is
not true.Most people who go OTD have
spent years in yeshiva or Beis Yaakov. They have studied gemara, mishnayos, Tanach, and
more. Many have also read Aristotle, Plato, Moreh
Nevuchim, and other philosophers, and are often better versed in theology
than the average believer.
…
The third
problem is that the rabbi doesn't hold himself to the same standard he requires
of the apikores. …
The story can
be told equally well the other way around:
There was a frumme yid who moved to a college town.
Word of his presence spread, and the dean of the college was intrigued. He
arranged a meeting with the newcomer.
"I've
never met a true believer before." The dean said. "Is it true that
you're a maamin, that you really
believe that the Torah was written by an All-Powerful God Who created the world
and gave the Torah to the Jewish people at Sinai?
"Absolutely!"
The yid replied.
"Great!"
The dean said. "I have some questions I was hoping you could answer. How
do you account for the similarities between the Torah and Ancient Near Eastern
mythology?"
"Mythology?"
The frum man said. "That's avodah zara! I don't study that."
"I see."
The dean said, "We'll avoid that subject. How do you account for the
literary evidence that the Torah is a composite work?"
"That's kefirah!" The yid answered. "Chas
v'shalom that I should ever think the Torah might have been written by
humans!"
"What
can we talk about, then?" The dean asked. "How myths develop?
Archeological evidence for the origins of the Jewish people and for the beliefs
of the early Israelites? Geological evidence for the age of the Earth?
Cosmological evidence for the age of the universe? Biological evidence of
evolution? The philosophical problems with proofs for the existence of God? The
history of the development of Judaism, and the many different forms it's taken
over the millennia? Influences on Judaism from other cultures?"
"None of
those! "The frum man answered. "Philosophy
is foolishness, and the scientists and academics are either lying, or their
findings are distorted by the mabul."
The dean
stood up. "Thank you for meeting with me, but I see we have nothing to
discuss. To really be a true believer, you have to at least be educated enough
to understand the problems with believingin God and Orthodox Judaism. You're not a maamin, you're an ignoramus."
[1]Margolese,
F. (2005). Off the Derech. Jerusalem,
Israel: Devora Publishing Company. P. 178
Kol kevudah bas melech pnimia is quoted ad
nauseum to girls and women, usually as part of "inspirational"
speeches and projects encouraging them to cover themselves up, to not stand
out, to not afflict men with their lascivious presence. They are told theat
their golory is on the inside, and so it doesn't matter what they wear. They certainly
shouldn't wear anything flashy that might attract attention. The second half of
the pasuk, Mimishbi'tzos
zahav livusha, is ignored.
Not anymore.
We bring you the Bas Melech dress. A beautiful
dress in keeping with the second half of the pasuk. Now frum women can
truly fulfill the words of pasuk. Expect to see them appearing at Beis
Yaakov events, shuls, and simchos!
This week I'm joined by Micheal Jacobson as we discuss the first three chapters of the Chovos HaLevavos, including how some people think they can be frummer than God and why the people who recommend seforim like the Chovos HaLevavos don't follow its advice.
I've created a dedicated channel for this series and have made the videos public. If you've subscribed (and even if you haven't), please subscribe to the new channel, and please share the series with anyone you think would be interested.
The following is a line-by-line response to a message that was sent to someone who is OTD. The
recipient asked for responses, and gave me permission to post it. The message
is in italics, followed by my responses.
Dear [redacted],
As I said I would, I'm
forwarding some links from xxxx. I hope that it's helpful. There may be other
writing forums, as well. This is the one I've been involved with.
I also thank you for
speaking with me so candidly. I'm glad that you felt comfortable enough to do
so, and I encourage you to feel free to be in touch at your discretion.
I've been thinking a
lot about our (unexpected) conversation. You have many questions, and I'm
unclear about whether you really want any answers / solutions to your questions
or not. Perhaps you just prefer to be left to the life you (seem to) have
chosen for yourself.
So right at the start, we have the old, "You're
questions are really answers." As though the only reason anyone would
question the obvious truth of Yiddishkeit
is because they're looking for excuses to throw off the ol hatorah and wallow in their taivos.
And we have a delegitimatizing of the recipient's choices, with "seem
to" in parentheses. As though they didn't really choose it, but were
dragged there by forces (taivos -
it's always taivos) beyond their
control.
As you can imagine,
it's disconcerting to watch someone you care about making choices that you'd
feel are harmful. Let's say you noticed that someone dear to you had inherited
a significant number of stocks, now s/he has to invest some effort to maintain
this inheritance -paying brokers, flying to locations to do due diligence to
assess the value of the stock, filing yearly income tax etc.; and now holds
stocks that have not yet yielded (obvious) dividends. You are aware that the
companies in which she holds stocks are developing their product, starting to
make sales, but it hasn't yet translated into profits. How would you advise
this friend? S/he is ready to throw the stocks out, after all, there's been no
income commensurate to the hassle of keeping the stocks. Wouldn't you tell that
friend to hold on, s/he's stands to earn a fortune. S/he's losing patience,
s/he doesn't see the value in these old artifacts. But you know, once she gets
rid of the stocks, if they bring in anywhere near what they potentially could,
she'd kick herself big time at letting the opportunity slip through her
fingers.
Here's an analogy trying to show that rejecting something because
it doesn't have an immediate reward is foolish and shortsighted. The stocks are
Yiddishkeit, the due diligence is the
mitzvos, and the OTD person is the
heir. I suppose the eventual payoff of the stocks is olam haboh. The problem with
this analogy, like all analogies from the known to the unknowable, is that we
know stocks exist, and we have a general idea of how the market works. We know
that stocks often do pay out, and that companies often take time to become
established, If somone really had
information showing that the companies would be turning large profits in the
future, he could share that information with the heir and convince them to hold
on to the stocks. None of those things are true of Yiddishkeit. We can't know whether olam haboh exists, we don't know if keeping mitzvos ever pays off
or, if they do, what kind of payoff we can expect or in what timeframe, and
there is no information that can be provided that can reasonably prove that keeping
mitzvos is a sound investment. The
analogy fails on every point.
Also, the analogy reminds me of this:
[Redacted], you are
smart, inquisitive and exploring – and you're also limited. (Aren't we all?)
You're too young and inexperienced to come to hard and fast conclusions of
difficult existential and spiritual matters. For everything you now know, there
are exponential amounts that you don't yet know.
Sure, we're all limited. But recognizing that our
limitations prevent us from coming to sure conclusions isn't an excuse to make
stuff up. Why should suspending judgment, as the message writer suggests, equal
being frum? It's at least as
reasonable to suspend judgment and not be frum, pending further exploration of
the issues. Frumkeit is not the
default, "I don't know" is the default.
Why are you willing to
believe so strongly in science? Do you explore and verify every study and
experiment? Do you question the scientists who fill journals with their studies
to clarify that they are not distorting the facts or skewing the results?
Of course not. Who does, or could? But it's reasonable to
trust science, because, in principle, any of us could do the work. It's not
mysterious or unknowable. And because science works! The message sender trusts
science in every aspect of their daily lives, from when they check the weather
in the morning, to the car they use to get to work, the bridges they drive
over, the GPS they use to guide them, the medications they take, on and on and
on. They literally trust science with their lives. It's only when scientific
findings call tenets of their religion into question that they become
skeptical, and ask questions like, "Do you verify it yourself? How do you
know the scientists aren't lying?"
Are you accounting for
the countless times they make an about-face saying the opposite today of what
they said yesterday?
No. Just, really, no. Unless we're talking about modern
rejection of ancient models of the world, an "about-face" is very
rare. What does happen is that models are refined as more discoveries are made
and more information becomes available. Putting down a new floor in a house, or
even moving a wall, is not the same as turning the whole building around or
knocking it down and building a new one.
Why do you relate to
science with blind faith, since that's exactly what you're doing when you are
quick to agree to everything they posit without being capable or trained to
investigate their conclusions and verify their accuracy.
"Faith" is belief despite a lack of evidence. It's
belief that ignores the probabilities. Believing in an unseen, unknowable God
requires faith. Trusting experts and a system of learning about the world that
has a proven track record is not faith. They're usually right, so they're
probably right about "this" (whatever "this" happens to be),
too.
And if you're willing
to have blind-faith in the conclusions of mortal, often self-serving men and
women – why should one spurn the individuals who exhibit faith in an Omnipotent
G-d, and believe in upholding His statutes?
Like I just said, it's not blind faith to trust a proven
system. But leaving that aside, this is again an analogy from the known to the
unknowable. We know that scientists exist and that their findings usually reflect
reality. We don't know that God exists, nor do we know that the beliefs of
those who have faith in Him reflect
reality.
If you are suggesting
that logic rules, then I fail to understand the logic in choosing science over
the Creator who fashioned all the laws of nature which scientists claim to
observe in the first place.
I get the impression that the message writer is using
"logic" to mean, "makes sense." Logic is not just that
which makes sense, logic is rules for reasoning that must be true, in the same way that one plus one must equal two. Be that as it may:
1. if God is real,
and He created the world and gave us the Torah, then if the Torah doesn't match
reality, God lied to us. If the truth is in nature, then God lied to us when He
said something different in the Torah. And if the truth is in the Torah, then
God lied to us when He made nature in such a way that it fools us into believing
untruths. Why would we trust such a Being?
2. We live in this world, it is the only reality we have access
to, and what we can know about it affects our lives. Science has proven it's success
at informing us about the world and improving our lives, while religion has
not. Therefore it is reasonable to trust science over the word of God.
3. "Claim" to observe? Again, the unwarranted,
selective skepticism of science only when it contradicts what they believe to
be the message of the Creator.
Interestingly, there were a number of rishonim who held the opposite of the message writer. They held
that we take the Torah as literally true unless it is contradicted by what we
see in the world, in which case the Torah must be interpreted figuratively. The
message writer seems to hold that we always take the Torah as literally true,
and when it is contradicted by what we see in the world - well, who are you
going to believe, me, or your lying eyes?
And, is this an
intellectual or emotional argument?
Does it matter? Arguments stand or fall on their merits, the
motivations of the person presenting the argument notwithstanding. And anyway,
what's wrong with emotions? People are not frum
for purely intellectual reasons. Far from it. The frum world discourages philosophical inquiry, and hashkafa is superficial, made up of bad
arguments and inspirational fluff, not serious theology. If people can be frum for emotional reasons, why is it illegitimate
for someone to stop being frum for
emotional reasons?
And lets not forget how insulting this question is. It's
asking, "You think you're being rational, but aren't you really stupidly
being swept along by your emotions?" You weak-willed, broken, taiva-ridden fool, you.
[Redacted], your
choices are not inconsequential- they really matter. They matter obviously to
yourself, and also to your future spouse, children, bs"D, to your
community, and to your nation.
Exactly, choices matter. Like choosing to remain frum. That choice severely limits the range
of marriage partners, the education of children, and the potential communities
one can belong to. Choosing to be frum
is as legitimate a choice as any other, but it's not the default.
Is it important to you
that your future generations remain Jewish?
What if it's not? What if it is, but there are other
considerations that are also important, and a reasonable balance has to be
found? What if it's of great importance, but of no importance whether they're frum?
You're going to have
to make choices, not just now, but continually as your life unfolds. May you
find the inner strength, wisdom, resources and messengers to help you reach
conclusions which will bring you genuine and eternal satisfaction and serenity.
It's a nice sentiment, but eternal? Is this a veiled threat?
"You had better stay frum, because
only being frum guarantees your descendants will be Jewish (except that it
doesn't, or there could be no OTD people who marry non-Jews), and if they
aren't, you're going to look down from Heaven and be bothered by the dire
consequences of your choices." There's nothing like guilt trips and
threats about the unknowable afterlife to keep a person frum.
I learned today that editing audio is time-consuming. There's less reading and more commentary in this episode. The episode covers the second half of the introduction to the Chovos HaLevavos, in which the author tells us that he wasn't sure that a humble man like himself was qualified to write a book on such lofty matters, and that if you disagree with anything he says, it's because you're lazy and stupid.
From The History of Western
Philosophy by Bertrand Russell, from his discussion of Aristotle's Politics:
"The book… ends with a discussion of education. Education,
of course, is only for children who are going to be citizens. Slaves may be
taught useful arts, such as cooking, but these are no part of education. …Children
should learn what is useful to them, but not vulgarizing. For instance, they
should not be taught any skill that deforms the body, or that would enable them
to earn money. …They must of course learn to read and write, in spite of the
usefulness of these arts, but the purpose of education is virtue, not
usefulness."
This sounds a lot like the kollel society of the yeshivish
world. "Useful arts" are looked down on, working for money is vulgar,
and the point of study is virtue, not for practical ends. Is this a
coincidence, or do kollel communities
represent a reflection of Aristotelian virtues, filtered through kisvei kodesh influenced by Aristotle's
writings?