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MODERN
RABBINIC THOUGHT
By
Rav Yitzchak
Blau
Shiur
#04: The Natural Order in the Thought of R. Lipschutz
Differing
positions regarding the natural order represent an important dividing line among
rabbinic thinkers. Some view the
natural order as an illusion through which the religiously great manage to
see. In reality, this view
contends, God controls every moment of the created order and He brings about all
that occurs. Admittedly, most (or
perhaps even all) people must put in some human effort (hishtadlut) as a
kind of tax or religious duty, but that effort does not truly produce the
desired results in a directly causal fashion. On the other hand, other thinkers
contend that God set up a world with laws of nature that He does not easily
decide to abrogate. From this
perceptive, human effort and initiative directly impact on the world and God is
not the immediate cause of all that happens.
This
split can lead to varying attitudes on a number of important theological
issues. Who provides the most
significant protection to the modern state of Israel - those studying Torah in
kollel or those serving in the army standing at guard posts along the
borders? When a person stubs a toe
or becomes more seriously ill, does that indicate Divine punishment or can we
say that natural laws are simply continuing their work? How worthwhile is the human endeavor of
medical research as a means of alleviating human suffering? All of these questions may depend on the
division mentioned above. (For a
fine discussion of some of these issues, see David Shatz’s article in The Torah
U-Madda Journal, vol. 3: http://www.yutorah.org/_shiurim/TU3_Shatz.pdf).
Where
does R. Yisrael Lipschutz stand on these matters? His Tiferet Yisrael commentary
reveals significant interest in the natural sciences, and we shall now see that
he strongly believed in the ongoing reality and consistency of natural
laws. The strongest expression of
his views can be found in an extended commentary toward the end of
Kiddushin. The mishna there
discusses the proper profession for a religious person.
R.
Meir says:
A person should always teach his son a profession that is honest and easy, and
pray to the One to whom wealth and property belong; for each profession has
wealthy and poor, since wealth and poverty come not from the profession but are
based on zekhut (merit).
R.
Shimon
ben Eliezer says: Did you ever see an animal or bird with a profession? And yet they find their sustenance
without difficulty. Were they not
created to serve me [mankind]? And
since I was created to serve my Maker, does it not follow that I should find
sustenance without difficulty?
Rather, I lost my sustenance due to my evil deeds. (Kiddushin
4:14)
This mishna apparently plays down the impact that human effort and
planning have on feeding one’s family.
R. Meir
argues that choice of profession does not matter, but prayer
does. Furthermore, the determining
factor is religious merit.
R.
Shimon views the very need to labor to put food on the table as
the product of sin. Arguably, he
might further say that the truly righteous would no longer have to dedicate much
effort to finding sustenance.
Tosafot (Kiddushin 82a s.v. Ela) cite a gemara (Mo’ed
Katan 28a) which, contrary to the above mishna, teaches that sustenance
depends upon mazal (fortune) and not upon zekhut. To reconcile these conflicting sources,
Tosafot suggest that the term zekhut in the mishna in Kiddushin
really refers to mazal.
According to their interpretation, both sources present mazal
as the essential determining factor. Mazal in rabbinic literature
usually refers to an astrological belief in the influence of the
constellations. Thus, Tosafot may
have downplayed the dominant role played by God in giving out sustenance, while
at the same time even more powerfully neutralizing the impact of human
effort. If we are caught in a
deterministic structure based on the position of the stars at certain times,
then all our efforts will not allow us to provide for our
families.
Yet, a fully deterministic reading of R. Meir creates certain
difficulties. If everything depends
upon the constellations, why bother praying? R. Lipschutz interprets the Tosafot in
an entirely different manner (Kiddushin, Yakhin 4:66, Boaz
4:1). He refuses to accept that
Chazal’s references to “mazal” refer to astrology, as he asserts
that belief in astrology is theologically offensive. Why should we limit the power of God by
saying that during a given astrological moment, only certain kinds of children
can be born? Furthermore, astrology
leads to idolatry, as attributing such influence to the heavenly bodies will
invariably lead people to relate to the stars and planets as entities worthy of
worship.
It must be admitted that the first critique could apply to a firm
believer in the laws of nature as well.
Why limit God’s influence by saying that He rarely deviates from the
patterns of nature? Perhaps R.
Lipshutz would argue that the stability of the natural order promotes some good,
such as human free will, while astrological limitations do not enable any such
good. Alternatively, R. Lipschutz
could focus more on the second critique and argue that belief in astrology
inexorably leads toward worship of other entities in a way that belief in the
stability of nature does not.
R.
Lipschutz champions Rambam’s famous letter to the sages of Marseille, which
rejects astrology as a foolish belief.
We can assume that R. Lipschutz knew quite well that many rishonim
believed in the power of astrology.
Yet, for him, Rambam’s negative assessment reflects the normative
position. R. Lipschutz argues that
we must interpret Talmudic sources that seem to endorse astrology in a
metaphoric fashion. He also cites a
Talmudic source that seems to deny astrology. The Torah (Vayikra 19:26)
commands us not to use divination or soothsaying (ve-lo
te’onenu). One gemara
(Sanhedrin 65b) explains that this verse prohibits deciding which times
are right for various endeavors based on astrological considerations
(te’onenu – from the word onot = times). R. Lipshutz argues that we should sooner
offer an allegorical reading of aggadic gemarot that seem to adopt astrological
beliefs than reread this halakhic gemara in Sanhedrin that rejects
astrology.
In truth, the gemara in Sanhedrin rejects astrological practices more
than astrological belief.
Nevertheless, R. Lipschutz employs it as part of his argument that
Chazal did not believe in astrology. If they did not refer to astrology, what
did our sages mean by the term “mazal”? R. Lipschutz offers a naturalistic
reading that shows his firm belief in the power and influence of the natural
order.
When R. Meir
employs the word “zekhut,” he refers not to innocence or
merit but to what a person has acquired, as in the word “zekhiya.” Furthermore, mazal is not a
reference to astrology but to the flowing (“nozel”) power of natural
forces. According to R. Lipschutz,
R. Meir
informs us that a person’s ability to provide depends upon a
series of natural factors.
He enumerates six such categories.
People will exhibit certain qualities due to what they inherit from their
parents, the climate in which they grow up, the impact of the season or the time
of day, the food they eat and drink, the nature of their education and
upbringing, and the specific work that they do. These six items represent powerful
forces that will often determine a person’s material success. R. Meir counsels a person to
select a good profession (“honest and easy”) as the first move towards
success. Then he notes that human
efforts will not always bear results, due to the limitations of the natural
framework outlined above.
Therefore, a person should pray to God to remove those natural forces
that might prevent success.
However, such an individual should not think that God will change the
entire natural order due to the prayer.
God prefers not to alter natural law. Moreover, an attitude of great
confidence that prayers will be answered actually leads people away from belief
in Providence when they experience unanswered prayers. Thus, a person should both pray and make
an effort within the natural order, while realizing that neither guarantees
material bounty.
R. Lipschutz explicitly applies his theories to the problem of theodicy,
the question of why the good suffer.
He catalogues some standard religious responses. Such suffering may reflect punishments
for the minor transgressions of the righteous. Alternatively, it could be a test. Another possibility is that the apparent
evil may truly be a means of bringing about a greater good. Finally, he adds the possibility that
the good suffer because that is what the laws of nature dictate and God does not
rush to alter them. He connects the
word “teva” with a “matbe’a over la-sokher,” a coin or item that
the king will not easily invalidate.
This last explanation of the suffering of the righteous has broad
significance. While we imagine that
R. Lipschutz would not object to the religious notion that misfortunes should
inspire us to repent, he would reject a simplified mechanical application of
reward and punishment that would evaluate every bruise as divine
punishment. In a series of
articles, Yaakov
Elman has argued that our tradition includes several models
that move beyond the assumption that every misfortune stems from sin. (See, for example, his article “The
Contribution of Rabbinic Thought to a Theology of Misfortune,” in R.
Shalom
Carmy, ed., Jewish Perspectives on the Experience of
Suffering [Northvale, NJ, 1999], pp. 155-212) R. Lipschutz would certainly agree.
R. Lipschutz adds a remarkable reading of a passage in Shemot
(23:20) where God says that He “will send a malakh before you to
guard you on the way and to bring you to the place I have prepared.” Most medieval commentators understand
this verse as referring to an angel. Chizkuni thinks that it speaks of
Yehoshua. In contrast, R. Lipschutz
says that the angel in this verse refers to the natural order. God informs the people that even if they
are righteous, they have a responsibility to work within nature, be it in the
context of farming or of waging war.
God then warns the people: “Beware of him and obey his voice, do not
rebel against him, because he will not forgive your sins, for My name is in him”
(23:21). The classic commentators
explain that the angelic being that God provides the Jewish people does not have
God’s ability to forgive.
Therefore, any communal transgression under his angelic watch will prove
dangerous. R. Lipschutz offers a
radically different reading. God
directs the people to work with the laws of nature and not to sin against
them. The verse refers not to
religious iniquity but to a refusal to accept the limitations of the natural
order. The nation cannot simply
rely on righteous behavior but must use human planning and effort within the
natural framework in order to succeed.
“My name is in him” hints at the fact that the numerical value of
Elokim, eighty six, equals that of “ha-teva.” God had placed His stamp of the natural
order and He does not rush to change it.
We have here one of the strongest statements in the last five hundred
years of rabbinic literature in favor of the stability of the natural
order. R. Lipschutz explicitly
draws some of the implications of his position as regards the problem of evil
and the need to engage in human effort because that effort does have a direct
causal affect on the outcome. It is
not surprising, then, that R. Lipschutz shows real interest in scientific
endeavors.
Few rabbinic writers would interrupt their commentary on a mishna in
Yoma (Yakhin 8:34) to explain the cure for scurvy, but that is
precisely what R. Lipschutz does.
He also adds a suggested medical response to a rabid dog bite that he
found in the writings of an Italian doctor (Boaz 8:2). Whether the scientific information is
entirely accurate is an important question for a different forum, but, in our
context, these examples show R. Lipschutz’s scientific
interests.
R. Lipschutz also looked at general scientific literature in an attempt
to justify Chazal’s depiction of a creature that is half flesh and half
earth (Chullin 9:6). This
depiction seems to indicate a belief in spontaneous generation, in which a live
creature emerges from the non-living environment. R. Lipschutz mentions that scoffers
attack this mishna, but he defends it based on something he read in Heinrich
Link’s Urwelt (Boaz 9:2).
Professor Shnayer Leiman (“R. Israel Lipschutz and the Mouse that is
Half Flesh and Half Earth,” in Y. Elman and J. Gurock, eds., Hazon Nahum
[Hoboken, 1998], pp. 449-58), has shown that R. Lipschutz misunderstood the
passage in Urwelt. R.
Lipshutz may not have been an expert in science, but his interest in the world
of science emerges all the same.
Non–Jewish scientific works are not often cited in Mishna
commentaries.
Chazal famously state that a circumcision should include the
sucking out of blood after the cut, known as metzitza, to promote the
health of the baby. This creates
questions about whether and how to continue this practice today, when modern
science views such a procedure as creating more danger for the baby. R. Lipschutz mentions the possibility of
dropping this practice, but rules that we should continue to do so because
contemporary doctors have also found it to have some beneficial health impact
(Shabbat, Boaz 19:1). His
entire discussion grants credence to scientific discovery.
Finally, R. Lipschutz employs knowledge of the history of science to
impact on the interpretation of a mishna.
The mishna (Kelim 30:2) talks about when something called an
aspaklarya is subject to ritual impurity. R. Lipschutz says this term
cannot refer to a telescope, or the like, as the telescope was only invented by
Zacharias Jansen in the seventeenth century (Boaz
30:1).
Interest in science and belief in the stability of the natural order go
together. As R. Lipschutz affirmed
strong belief in the stability of the natural order and emphasized the abilities
and responsibilities of human efforts within that order, it makes sense that he
would respect the endeavor of human scientific achievement and take an interest
in its history.
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