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PDF FormatThis is not surprising. It is, after all, a remarkable feature of human beings that we believe the things we see. And very often, we disbelieve the things we do not see. We come to believe that we are strong because we have seen ourselves be strong; whereas if we never have the chance to see ourselves be that strong, we just think we are not.
The same holds for moral behavior. When we act morally—even if our intentions are not as pure as snow—we nevertheless experience the good act as a precedent for our own behavior. This can have a tremendous effect. When we do not see ourselves giving tzedaka, or charity, it is easy to fall into the habit of thinking that it is not something we are capable of doing. We find excuses for why we cannot really afford it. But when we give charitably even under compulsion of law, we come to believe this is a standard we can live up to. It refutes the secret denials, the silent suspicion that maybe we just are not such good people.21 It is a proof to ourselves, in other words, that we really can be, and really are, charitable. It puts the act of giving into our “comfort zone,” making it a part of who we are.
Judaism has always believed that it is our actions that fashion our inner sentiments, that give us concrete, reliable data as to who we really are, and that create the true momentum for improvement. Only from this kind of knowledge of ourselves may we derive the strength to do good things even in the face of intense pressure from our peers, our colleagues, our superiors, or our own laziness. As R. Elazar ben Azaria says in the Mishna:
Judaism has always believed that it is our actions that fashion our inner sentiments, that give us concrete, reliable data as to who we really are, and that create the true momentum for improvement. Only from this kind of knowledge of ourselves may we derive the strength to do good things even in the face of intense pressure from our peers, our colleagues, our superiors, or our own laziness. As R. Elazar ben Azaria says in the Mishna:
One whose wisdom is great but his deeds are few, to what may he be compared? To a tree that has many branches but few roots; the wind blows, and turns the tree on its head. But one whose deeds are greater than his wisdom, to what may he be compared? To a tree with few branches and many roots: Even if all the winds of the world were to blow on it, it would not move from its place.22
VI
We have seen, then, that morality according to Judaism is about acting as a consistent, effective force of good in our world. This begins by viewing our obligation to outcomes, not just good intentions. Perhaps the Talmud put it most strikingly in the following declaration in tractate Shabbat:
Whoever can stop the members of his household from committing a sin, but does not, is held responsible for the sins of his household. If he can stop the people of his city from sinning, but does not, he is held responsible for the sins of the people of his city. If he can stop the whole world from sinning, and does not, he is held responsible for the sins of the whole world.23
In Judaism, in other words, being good is about taking responsibility. It is about making sure that things really do change for the better. It is not about what we think or feel about things. It is about actually transforming our world.
And if we really want to transform our world, then what we need is a discipline that trains us to excel as moral actors. In Judaism, this discipline is what is gained by trying to live one’s life according to law. This does not mean, of course, that every person who tries to live according to Jewish law turns out to be moral. But for those Jews who want to be moral, and who want to develop the habits of good behavior, the idea of bringing morality under law offers a method of training—a kind of ongoing moral boot camp—that makes one strong enough to be good. In Judaism this is crucial, because being a good person means not only having “meant well,” but also having saved the day.
It is important to add, moreover, that these points about the relationship between law and morality are not limited in their importance to the role played by the individual. On the contrary, it is precisely because of Judaism’s concern for human history—that is, the belief that communities and peoples and nations may yet see their moral standing improve over time—that this kind of morality is the Jewish path for both individuals and collectives. It is this aim that Jewish law and morals seek to advance in history: Of teaching human beings, body and spirit, individuals and nations, to make a better world.
And if we really want to transform our world, then what we need is a discipline that trains us to excel as moral actors. In Judaism, this discipline is what is gained by trying to live one’s life according to law. This does not mean, of course, that every person who tries to live according to Jewish law turns out to be moral. But for those Jews who want to be moral, and who want to develop the habits of good behavior, the idea of bringing morality under law offers a method of training—a kind of ongoing moral boot camp—that makes one strong enough to be good. In Judaism this is crucial, because being a good person means not only having “meant well,” but also having saved the day.
It is important to add, moreover, that these points about the relationship between law and morality are not limited in their importance to the role played by the individual. On the contrary, it is precisely because of Judaism’s concern for human history—that is, the belief that communities and peoples and nations may yet see their moral standing improve over time—that this kind of morality is the Jewish path for both individuals and collectives. It is this aim that Jewish law and morals seek to advance in history: Of teaching human beings, body and spirit, individuals and nations, to make a better world.
David Hazony is Editor-in-Chief of AZURE. This article is based on a lecture delivered at the Shalem Center/Birthright Institute conference in Tarrytown, New York.
Notes
1. Leviticus 19:9-16.
2. “A Statement of Principles for Reform Judaism,” approved by the Central Conference of American Rabbis, May 26, 1999, in Pittsburgh.
3. Jewish law, of course, has its origins in the Bible, in which major sections of the books of Moses, especially Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers, are dedicated to spelling out the basic legal principles upon which the new Israelite society was to be founded. Jewish law also plays an important role throughout the books of prophets and kings, in which the success or failure of rulers, whether they “did right in the eyes of the Eternal,” is determined to no small extent by how well they upheld and enforced the law of God.
But the emphasis on law in Judaism did not really reach its height until the talmudic period. No longer possessing the worldly power of the biblical monarchy, the Jews still possessed significant communal autonomy, and their literature developed a broad, profound affinity for legal discussion, one which covers all areas of life, and which stood as one of the central pillars—perhaps the central pillar—of rabbinic thinking. As the rabbis themselves put it, “Since the destruction of the Temple, the Holy One has nothing in his world other than the four cubits of law.” Brachot 8a.
4. A number of the ideas in the first half of this lecture were delineated in an earlier, more detailed way in my analysis of the moral philosophy of Eliezer Berkovits which appeared in these pages in 2001. See David Hazony, “Eliezer Berkovits and the Revival of Jewish Moral Thought,” AZURE 11 (Summer 2001), pp. 23-65.
5. Immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals (Cambridge: Cambridge, 1997), p. 8.
6. C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 2001), pp. 91, 93. Emphasis added.
7. Jeremiah 5:28-29.
8. Isaiah 1:11-17.
9. Arachin 15b; Bava Metzia 58b; Bava Batra 9a; Mishna Gitin 5:8, and the discussion in Gitin 59b. The Tosefta relates that “because of the ways of peace,” Jews are obligated to support the poor of the non-Jewish communities, to visit their sick and to bury their dead “as one buries the dead among Jews.” Tosefta Gitin 3:18. Eliezer Berkovits, Not in Heaven: The Nature and Function of Halakha (New York: Ktav, 1983), pp. 25-26.
10. Joseph Telushkin, Jewish Wisdom: Ethical, Spiritual, and Historical Lessons from the Great Works and Thinkers (New York: Morrow, 1994), pp. 331-332.
11. Obviously this does not exhaust the shades of Western ethical thought, and Berkovits himself cites three thinkers (Spinoza, Marx, and Bergson) who understood on some level the problem with ignoring the body. Eliezer Berkovits, God, Man, and History, ed. David Hazony (Jerusalem: Shalem, 2004), pp. 98-100, 109-110.
12. The coordination of man’s spirit and body is crucial to the Jewish thinker: One example appears in Genesis Rabba 8:11: “R. Tafdai said in the name of R. Aha: The higher things (haelyonim) were created in the likeness and image of God, but cannot be fruitful and multiply; the lower things (hatahtonim) can be fruitful and multiply, but were not created in the likeness and image of God. Said the Holy One, ‘I will make him [i.e., man] in the likeness and image with the higher things, and able to be fruitful and multiply, with the lower things.’ R. Tafdai further said in the name of R. Aha: Said the Holy One, ‘If I make him out of the higher things, he will live and not die; if I make him of the lower things, he will die and not live. Therefore, I will make him from both the higher and the lower things. If he sins, he will die; if he does not sin, he will live.’” See also Genesis Rabba 14:4. For additional sources, see Ephraim E. Urbach, The Sages: The World and Wisdom of the Rabbis of the Talmud (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard, 1979), p. 221.
13. Midrash Tanhuma, Vayyera 15.
14. Kidushin 31a.
15. As Eliezer Berkovits explained it: Just as war is both too risky and too infrequent to allow a soldier to learn to fight solely through trial-by-fire, so too is the moral dilemma both too risky and too infrequent to allow us to make do with laws that address only actual moral situations. Berkovits, God, Man, and History, pp. 113-114.
16. Berkovits, God, Man, and History, p. 116.
17. Exodus 20:13; Leviticus 19:16.
18. Arachin 15b; Deuteronomy Rabba 6:8; Pirkei de Rabbi Eliezer, 53; and again, Arachin 15b. One rabbi, R. Dimi the brother of R. Safra, goes as far as to suggest that one should not even speak well of people, because the habit of judging others in public will lead you to speak poorly of people. Bava Batra 164b.
19. Joseph Karo, Shulhan Aruch, Yoreh De’a 376; Sota 14a.
20. Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1976), ch. 28.
21. “The poor man does more for the rich man [by accepting charity] than the rich man does for the poor by giving it.” Leviticus Rabba 34:8.
22. Mishna Avot 3:21.
23. Shabbat 54b.
Notes
1. Leviticus 19:9-16.
2. “A Statement of Principles for Reform Judaism,” approved by the Central Conference of American Rabbis, May 26, 1999, in Pittsburgh.
3. Jewish law, of course, has its origins in the Bible, in which major sections of the books of Moses, especially Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers, are dedicated to spelling out the basic legal principles upon which the new Israelite society was to be founded. Jewish law also plays an important role throughout the books of prophets and kings, in which the success or failure of rulers, whether they “did right in the eyes of the Eternal,” is determined to no small extent by how well they upheld and enforced the law of God.
But the emphasis on law in Judaism did not really reach its height until the talmudic period. No longer possessing the worldly power of the biblical monarchy, the Jews still possessed significant communal autonomy, and their literature developed a broad, profound affinity for legal discussion, one which covers all areas of life, and which stood as one of the central pillars—perhaps the central pillar—of rabbinic thinking. As the rabbis themselves put it, “Since the destruction of the Temple, the Holy One has nothing in his world other than the four cubits of law.” Brachot 8a.
4. A number of the ideas in the first half of this lecture were delineated in an earlier, more detailed way in my analysis of the moral philosophy of Eliezer Berkovits which appeared in these pages in 2001. See David Hazony, “Eliezer Berkovits and the Revival of Jewish Moral Thought,” AZURE 11 (Summer 2001), pp. 23-65.
5. Immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals (Cambridge: Cambridge, 1997), p. 8.
6. C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 2001), pp. 91, 93. Emphasis added.
7. Jeremiah 5:28-29.
8. Isaiah 1:11-17.
9. Arachin 15b; Bava Metzia 58b; Bava Batra 9a; Mishna Gitin 5:8, and the discussion in Gitin 59b. The Tosefta relates that “because of the ways of peace,” Jews are obligated to support the poor of the non-Jewish communities, to visit their sick and to bury their dead “as one buries the dead among Jews.” Tosefta Gitin 3:18. Eliezer Berkovits, Not in Heaven: The Nature and Function of Halakha (New York: Ktav, 1983), pp. 25-26.
10. Joseph Telushkin, Jewish Wisdom: Ethical, Spiritual, and Historical Lessons from the Great Works and Thinkers (New York: Morrow, 1994), pp. 331-332.
11. Obviously this does not exhaust the shades of Western ethical thought, and Berkovits himself cites three thinkers (Spinoza, Marx, and Bergson) who understood on some level the problem with ignoring the body. Eliezer Berkovits, God, Man, and History, ed. David Hazony (Jerusalem: Shalem, 2004), pp. 98-100, 109-110.
12. The coordination of man’s spirit and body is crucial to the Jewish thinker: One example appears in Genesis Rabba 8:11: “R. Tafdai said in the name of R. Aha: The higher things (haelyonim) were created in the likeness and image of God, but cannot be fruitful and multiply; the lower things (hatahtonim) can be fruitful and multiply, but were not created in the likeness and image of God. Said the Holy One, ‘I will make him [i.e., man] in the likeness and image with the higher things, and able to be fruitful and multiply, with the lower things.’ R. Tafdai further said in the name of R. Aha: Said the Holy One, ‘If I make him out of the higher things, he will live and not die; if I make him of the lower things, he will die and not live. Therefore, I will make him from both the higher and the lower things. If he sins, he will die; if he does not sin, he will live.’” See also Genesis Rabba 14:4. For additional sources, see Ephraim E. Urbach, The Sages: The World and Wisdom of the Rabbis of the Talmud (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard, 1979), p. 221.
13. Midrash Tanhuma, Vayyera 15.
14. Kidushin 31a.
15. As Eliezer Berkovits explained it: Just as war is both too risky and too infrequent to allow a soldier to learn to fight solely through trial-by-fire, so too is the moral dilemma both too risky and too infrequent to allow us to make do with laws that address only actual moral situations. Berkovits, God, Man, and History, pp. 113-114.
16. Berkovits, God, Man, and History, p. 116.
17. Exodus 20:13; Leviticus 19:16.
18. Arachin 15b; Deuteronomy Rabba 6:8; Pirkei de Rabbi Eliezer, 53; and again, Arachin 15b. One rabbi, R. Dimi the brother of R. Safra, goes as far as to suggest that one should not even speak well of people, because the habit of judging others in public will lead you to speak poorly of people. Bava Batra 164b.
19. Joseph Karo, Shulhan Aruch, Yoreh De’a 376; Sota 14a.
20. Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1976), ch. 28.
21. “The poor man does more for the rich man [by accepting charity] than the rich man does for the poor by giving it.” Leviticus Rabba 34:8.
22. Mishna Avot 3:21.
23. Shabbat 54b.
