TOLDOT: a Dvar-Torah in Progress...

This is unpolished, un-edited, but hopefully it makes sense. Enjoy! I look forward to your feedback! ☺
--------------

When describing Yaakov Avinu, the Torah refers to him as איש תם,, (ish-tam), that is a 'simple person.' Rashi explains the word תם(tam) to mean ‘wholesome,’ and one who does not engage in trickery or deceipt. Then Yaakov goes on to be quite the trickster! He tricks Esav into selling his birthright to him, and then steals the brachah (blessing) out from under his nose by literally disguising himself in front of blind father and pretending to be his brother. Later, when working for Lavan, there is complex trickery involving sheep breeding and sneaking off in the middle of the night. How do we square all this with the description of Yaakov as איש תם?

Simply put, it would seem that the Torah is teaching us that one can be one thing, even if many of the defining actions of one’s life are counter to that one thing. For instance, an honest person may tell white lies (‘yes honey, that dress looks GREAT on you’), or, perhaps more ominously, a man of peace may declare war. One has to know what his essence is, and how to move through the world with that knowledge, to know that even if one is forced to do an act which one finds distasteful, it does not necessarily sully his character.

For someone who has studied classical Western thought (the Greeks), particularly Plato, this appears as one manifestation of the dialectic between being and becoming, a constant tension between existence and creation, stagnation and motion, which all of us are engaged in all the time. We are constantly defining our reality while, at the same time, we are moving through and changing that reality.

Last night a visiting Rav at the Yeshivah was giving a talk about sureness, about us finding a balance between a willingness to question and a knowledge of what we know to be true. For me this appeared to be yet another manifestation of the same question. In the end, it’s an epistemological (knowledge) question, how does one ‘know’ anything? And a step beyond that, how can one be ‘sure’ of anything when our knowledge is so dependent? Plato solved this question with his theory of the higher spheres of existence, where ‘things’ exist in their perfect ‘idea’ forms, and that we are somehow inherently capable of tapping in to that reality. A similar idea exists in Judaism, in that one knows all the Torah (the definition of Truth and Reality) before one is born, and forgets it upon birth. Thereby a Jew learning Torah is like someone who has forgotten being led through clues which remind him of his forgotten knowledge. And the transmission issue is solved by revelation. The being which defines reality told us in [so to speak] his own words what reality is and what is expected of us.

But even then, how do we know our application of that knowledge is correct? How can we be sure? Personally, I try to strike a balance. I am as sure of certain things as a person can honestly be, which is to say, I know nothing of any importance about which I have NO doubt. Nonetheless, movement through this world requires one to temporarily discard that 1% of doubt, and act. But one needs to continue to go back and forth between surety and doubt, between an ultimate reality and openness to potential cracks in that reality. My knowledge of Torah and Hashem is one of these matters, and the further down I go into specifics the larger my doubt margin grows, from a .001% doubt of Hashem’s existence, to a 3% doubt (making up statistics is can be fun!) about how to wash my hands [ritually] before eating bread, and other things I am less sure about, which I would not claim ‘sureness’ about at all. It’s easy to be open to hearing counter-arguments about non-dependent realities. If someone convinces me that I am washing my hands the wrong way, I just change and do it correctly. But what do we do with arguments which challenge our core assumptions, the basis upon which we build our entire lives? Am I really open to challenges about G!d’s existence? When I’m at my best, I’m not afraid. I know I can handle any intellectual challenger, and feel that I stand on firm ground. But when not at my best I get defensive, I pull out of the conversation or use rhetorical tactics to end the argument in my favor without really engaging the issues raised. Ironically, my response depends more upon myself than on the arguments raised.

In essence, my response depends on which side of the dialectic I am currently on. Am I SURE or CHALLENGING, am I being or becoming, doing or contemplating? I believe that a healthy way of moving in the world demands a constant tension between these two states.

Means V. Ends, Truth V. Kindness, Shammai V. Hillel

בס"ד/BS"D, י במר חשון תשס"ז

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the ideal Vs. reality. Last month in Yeshivah we were studying Ketubot (the Gemarra tract dealing with marriage contracts and such), which went into a long aside about what one sings before the bride at a wedding. In comes one of the famous House of Hillel V. House of Shammai rumbles. Shammai says that you sing “Just as she is.” In other words, if she’s pretty, you sing about how pretty she is. If she’s horribly ugly, you sing about something else good about her (“she’s got a nice personality…”). But in any case you don’t lie. Hillel says that you say she’s beautiful and graceful, no matter what.

This seems like a small issue, but really exemplifies a larger difference in worldview. The Torah says to ‘Distance yourself from lies,’ and in Shammai’s world, nothing gets in the way of that. If the ‘means’ necessary to avoid lying include hurting some poor bride’s feelings, then so be it. Hillel sees the problem, and weighs the issues. In the end, he decides the general principle of treating our fellow human beings well trumps the more precise halachah of not telling a lie. Hillel sees that the means are not always as good as the ends, and so he moderates his commitment to some of the ends in favor of others. Shammai refuses to bend to the exigencies of the situation.

This is a reflection of the situation we find ourselves in ever since creation. In creating the world G!d planted “fruit-trees that will make fruit,” but the earth ‘sinned’ (according to the midrash) and brought forth “trees which make fruit.” In Hebrew the two words ‘fruit-tree’ can be read as one compound word, meaning that the tree itself was supposed to be fruit. The original intention was to create a world where means could have the same qualities as ends. Just like a fruit is sweet, nourishing, etc., the tree that produces it would be sweet, nourishing, etc. Thus, in the Gemara mentioned above, ideally we could have the best of both worlds, where we could tell the truth completely and without compromise, and this would not hurt anyone’s feelings, or cause any problems.

Of course, we poskin (halachically hold as correct for us to do) Hillel’s opinion. We are living in a damaged world and our job is to move in it not as we would move through a perfected world, but as me must IN ORDER TO perfect the world.

Personally I tend to have a dual answer. I think more like Shammai. “Truth is truth, and that is un-bendable,” but when confronted with real situations I tend to melt into the Hillel position. If I am to judge myself favorably, I would say this is a positive trait: that I view the world in it’s ideal form, but am also able to see the current realities and respond to them in a dynamic way when necessary. If I do not judge myself favorably, I should say that I am a hippocrite.

HERE ENDS THE MAIN BODY OF THE POST. :-)
---

WARNING: TANGENT APPROACHING! Brace yerselves, all ye who enter here...

I’ve been having an ongoing, [usually] friendly argument about vegetarianism with a number of vegans and/or vegetarians here at the yeshivah. I’m all for eating meat, and they’re against it. I don’t know how much our arguments are connected to our actual actions, or to what extent we are all merely justifying what we do, but in any case the arguments made are relevant here. It’s been pointed out to me multiple times that the perfected world, in the Garden of Eden and even afterwards until the flood, people didn’t eat meat. It is a symptom of the world’s brokenness that eating meat is even an option, an even remotely conceivable act. Therefore, argue the vegetarians, we should bring the world one step closer to perfection by not eating meat.

My response, in connection with the discussion here, would be that we are not living in a perfected world where we can fully fulfill all that we would wish to do, and in fact, not all positive things we would like to do will have the desired effect. It is granted to us to eat meat, and in several places it has the weight of an obligation (on Shabbat and Yom-Tovim). In an ideal world, the end of living a fulfilling life and everything being raised up to a godly level in human life would happen without the need to kill lower animals such as cows and chickens, but in the world as it is, the requirements of the system are as clear as the necessity of complimenting the young bride, regardless of veracity. Some part of us, which wants to be true to the ultimate, uncompromising reality, may want to say we should not eat meat, but the part of us which lives in this world, and which has compassion for our frail human brethren and recognizes the exigencies of the current situation, must allow the natural order AS IT IS to be fulfilled. I would argue that, given the extensive usage of and discussion of our usage of meat in the Torah (written and oral) it is clear that it’s PROPER usage is part of the tikkun (fixing) we are supposed to be doing on the world. Since eating meat is supposed to be part of the tikkun we are doing, we should advocate that it be done in a way which serves as a tikkun (i.e. treating the animals better, having proper intent when we eat them that we are taking a life for our own, etc.), not that it be halted entirely.

As usual, questions, comments, challenges and approbations are appreciated, and I will attempt to respond (BE"H) in a timely manner.
---
B'ahavat Yisrael,
-Eitan