Friday, 16 September 2016

He has no physical form



Introduction

After concluding the post 'Building the Beis Hamikdash' by questioning whether we really want it to be rebuilt, I thought that it was necessary to try to explain part of what it is that we are missing and the negative effect that it has on our spiritual lives. The relevance of the title of this post to this will soon become clear.

My basis in this article is the Rambam’s explanation of the purpose of worship through sacrifice. His firm view is that prayer is a higher form of service, but at the time that the Torah was given it was not realistic to expect the Jewish people to desist from the worldwide norm. He explains that to do this would be akin to commanding people nowadays to cease verbal prayer and to serve Hashem by thought alone.[1]

The target achieved through these mitzvos is the erasing of any remnants of idolatry and the strengthening of the foundation of Judaism- the existence and oneness of G‑d.[2] While the method of worship is important, its direction is crucial.

The Rambam himself makes it clear that he is well aware that this explanation is not easy to swallow. Our sense of justice makes it hard to accept that we are commanded complex laws merely to subvert something more severe. However, the Rambam argues that human nature means that this kind of instruction is unavoidable.

The Ramban disagrees strongly, his main argument being that the Torah would not describe the effect of these sacrifices as a ריח ניחוח (the translation ‘pleasing aroma’ hardly does the phrase justice) if they are inherently undesirable.[3] He prefers a mystical explanation which is (at least at the moment) beyond my capabilities to understand, let alone to explain.[4]

I believe that the resolution to the claim of the Ramban against the Rambam is relatively simple. The act itself of bringing sacrifices on the altar is indeed far from a utopian goal. But the term ריח ניחוח is still extremely relevant with regards the effect of channelling all worship to the Omnipresent, Omniscient and Omnipotent G-d.[5] Although this idea may be taken for granted by some, it has never been a given for all.

Difficulties in biblical times

It is hard to know much about the common philosophical beliefs during the time of the Tanach with certainty (the same applies to Chazal). We can theorise about why the nevi’im concentrated almost entirely on actions, feelings and intentions, but the answer is not clear. What we do know is that the command to centralise all religious worship in one place was a challenge that the Jewish people were rarely able to rise to.

In fact prior to the establishment of the Mishkan in the desert, and while the Mishkan was in Gilgal, Nov and Givon many sacrifices could be brought anywhere.[6] After this became forbidden for all time after the building of the Beis Hamikdash, it was extremely difficult for people to change their habits.[7] A key part to the rebellion of Yeravam ben Nevat and the splitting of the kingdom was the reestablishment of places of worship in Bet-El and Dan.[8]

This practice spread rapidly to the kingdom of Yehuda, and even during the reign of most of the righteous kings we are told that the people continued to sacrifice on bamot (private altars).[9] The only ones who had any success at stopping this were Chizkiyahu and Yoshiyahu.[10]

In the period of the rishonim

Most of the fundamental principles of faith only started to be documented at length by the rishonim. Major differences of opinion evolved over a number of issues, and this even lead to the burning of the writings of the Rambam at the behest of some of his contemporaries.

One principle which has definitely become accepted by all of mainstream Judaism (and as far as I am aware also by most of those outside the mainstream) is the Rambam’s third principle, that G-d has no physical form. But this was not always the clear consensus.

One of the outspoken critics of the Rambam was R’ Moshe Taku, who advocated literal interpretations both of the entire Tanach and of all aggadic teachings.[11] This led him to attack this principle strongly. It seems that this was not a lone view, as the Ramban felt it necessary to defend the third principle of the Rambam in a letter to the rabbis of France.[12]

Some have claimed that even R’ Moshe Taku did not genuinely believe in a corporeal god. They explain that his view was that the imagery used by the Torah is the maximum that the human mind can understand about G-d, and any attempt to go beyond this literal reading will only cause harm.[13]

The Rambam certainly did not agree even with this watered-down interpretation of the words of R’ Moshe Taku, maintaining that even the less intelligent are capable of understanding that Hashem cannot have a physical form.[14] However, he does agree to the idea that sometimes man needs something physical in order to grasp spirituality, as we have seen with the Beis Hamikdash and sacrifices.

From the Ba’al Shem Tov until today

The lack of physical worship invariably leads people to search elsewhere to fill the hole. The Ba’al Shem Tov and the Chasidim were the ones who first recognised the human emotional need in the ‘modern’ Jewish world, and the rest learned from them.[15] Those who know me will know that one thing it is hard to accuse me of is any kind of affiliation to Chasidus, but “the wise is one who learns from every person”.[16] The challenge of our generation is to channel these emotions appropriately.

The real question is how we can find the best alternative to the sacrifices until they are restored. Chazal already told us one way to model the ideal when far from the Beis Hamikdash- wherever we are we daven facing Eretz Yisrael, Yerushalayim, Har Habayis and the Kodesh Hakodashim.[17] The Kuzari felt that this was critical enough to be used as a proof against other religions.[18]

Although Jews everywhere still keep this halacha, in recent times there has been a development which I believe goes against its entire purpose. Without the Beis Hamikdash, people in their masses have started to look for alternative places to look to for inspiration. Perhaps due to lack of satisfaction from life and the living, the focus has moved to the physical remnants of the dead.

If someone who knew nothing about Judaism was told only that there is a mitzvah of making a pilgrimage three times a year, they could be forgiven for thinking that we were referring to the annual trips to Uman, Meron and Lizensk.[19] What once was a practice of a small number has become increasingly mainstream. And only a tiny minority of those who take part have done any real analysis as to whether this is what Hashem wants from us.

At the moment most of these people still remember to direct their prayers to Hashem and not (chas v’shalom) to the dead. But if nothing is done about it, we could easily end up with a situation similar to the times of Noach.[20]

From what we have written already it should be clear that we cannot solve this problem merely by speaking against it. We need to provide an alternative to the emotional high people describe experiencing on these trips. In my mind, the only way to provide a kosher alternative is to focus on the real spiritual centre of the world, the Beis Hamikdash.

The ideal would be to create the same kind of atmosphere experience elsewhere on Har Habayis, by getting similar number. But at the moment we are a long way off this, and most of the Jewish People are not yet ready to return to our holiest site. The pragmatic thing to do is to at least fight to switch the focus to the closest place of worship that we have to Har Habayis- the Kotel.[21]

There is already a popular practice to come to the Kotel during Chol Hamoed (Pesach and Sukos), with an estimated 50,000 attending. Thousands also walk on Shavuos morning, with more who are not able to walk coming after Yom Tov. If we can build these events to further resemble the mitzvah of aliya l’regel (coming to the Beis Hamikdash for the foot-festivals), it would be a great demonstration of our belief in one G-d who we direct all our prayers to. And eventually this can dwarf what happens elsewhere at other times.


[1] The clear implication is that purifying ones thoughts is the highest form of service. 
[2] All in Moreh Nevuchim 3:22, at greater length.
[3] Vayikra 1:9. The other difficulties he raises with the Rambam’s explanation are resolved straightforwardly by the Ritva in Sefer Hazikaron.
[4] He also quotes a simpler explanation, that in order to atone for thought, speech and action it was necessary to have a mitzvah that incorporated all these aspects. However this is clearly not a full explanation, as he himself says that this ‘draws the heart’.
[5] The Ritva points out that the Ramban seems to have missed this positive aspect of the mitzvah according to the Rambam.
[6] See Megila 9b-10a
[7] I am not aware of any evidence whether the prohibition of bringing sacrifices outside of the Mishkan in the desert or in Shilo was adhered to or not.
[8] See Melachim 1, perek 12.
[9] Ibid. 15:14, 22:44; Melachim 2 12:4, 14:4, 15:4, 15:35.
[10] Melachim 2, 18:4 and 23. It should be noted that even though Yoshiyahu brought all service at bamot to an end, Chazal tell us in Eicha Rabba 1:18 that he was unaware of the more serious problem of secret idolatry. The idolatry common in those times followed naturally from the decentralisation of worship.
[11] Remnants of his sefer Ktav Tamim were once available on the internet, but I couldn’t find it now.
[12] The letter is printed in Kitvei HaRamban (Mosad HaRav Kook) vol. 1 and deals with many claims against the Rambam. The relevant section is on pages 345-7.
[14] Moreh Nevuchim 1:35
[15] Virtually every Lithuanian yeshiva has incorporated some kind of activities aimed at the emotions. Some yeshivos organise trips, some don’t but the students do it of their own accord. Virtually every rav in a yeshiva has to act as a counsellor for the many issues in the lives of his students (this existed in the past, but on a smaller scale). But perhaps more significantly, there has been a huge increase in the amount of teaching aimed at emotions. While previously even those who taught mussar (ethics/Jewish outlook/character building) did so with a mostly intellectual basis, unfortunately this area is now often dominated by melodrama and clichés.
[16] Avos 4:1
[17] Berachos 30a
[18] Ma’amar 4, paragraph 13
[19] Over 25,000 travel to Uman for Rosh Hashana, hundreds of thousands to Meron on Lag b’Omer, and thousands to Lizensk for the Yahrtzeit of R’ Elimelech.
[20] See the Rambam’s description in the first perek of Avoda Zara.
[21] Although ironically, the Kotel is one of the few places where most people do not daven facing Har Habayis, mistakenly thinking that the Kotel itself is the centre of kedusha (it is not even a wall of the sanctified section of Har Habayis)! The correct thing to do is to turn roughly 45 degrees anti-clockwise, facing the Kodesh Hakodashim (see this diagram).