Printable PDF available here.
“And those of you who survive, I will bring fear in their hearts in the lands of their enemies, and the sound of a rustling leaf will pursue them. They will flee as one flees the sword, and they will fall, but there will be no pursuer.” (Vayikra 26:36)
Ma’amarei haRe’iah (Pg. 504)
The most terrible curse of the Exile is the weak-heartedness described in this verse, which affects not just the physical affairs of the Jewish people but its spirit as well. The fear of the slightest ‘copper button’ [on the uniforms of non-Jewish officials and soldiers] gave rise to sickly neshamot, afflicted, broken and unable to receive the light and vibrant lifeforce of the future redemption. An incessant sense of fear degraded the spirit of the Jewish People, leaving us deprived us the vitality needed for our national rebirth in the Land of the Avot.
The arbitrary cruelty of our non-Jewish overseers habituated us to a sense of lowliness, to accepting the way things were as the way they had to be. This sense of resignation borders of blasphemy.[1]As a result of the weak-heartedness of Exile, many Jews regard it as strange and un-Jewish that there be a Jewish police force [or a Jewish army]. ‘Those matters are for non-Jews to attend to!’ they proclaim. And thus we continue our exilic mentality that for rescue or general well-being we must turn to non-Jews, but never to ourselves.
The same sense of dependency applies to the spiritual realm as well. We lack confidence in our spiritual heritage, in our wealth of Torah literature. We know that we possess law, aggadah, ma’aseh bereishit and ma’aseh merkavah [i.e. mysticism], ethics, logic and Jewish philosophy, but we think that these deal only with timeless and eternal matters, not the pressing issues of the day. As soon as one tries to apply the Torah to such issues, he is dismissed by those of false piety as a planter of kilayim and polluter of the Jewish spirit. All such notions are bitter fruits of the Exile and its spiritual impurity. The Jewish People have carried this poison since we were exiled from the Holy Land and ceased to live a full, vibrant life in our own land….
This does not mean to idealize excision and isolation from contact with the outside world. On the contrary, Judaism welcomes insights and sparks of wisdom from other cultures – but only if they can (i) be integrated into the Torah’s higher architecture of Divine truth, and (ii) bear the unique imprint of Am Yisrael…
The time has come for the Jewish people to take heed of worldly reality, to expand our boundaries. We are neither able nor permitted to remain as we have in Exile, totally reliant on the goodwill of non-Jewish potentates for political security and totally dependent on non-Jewish wisdom for solutions to practical issues of the day. Not in Eretz Yisrael. Here, we are free to shape our communal affairs and our collective spiritual consciousness, and we must attend to them diligently. Here, the Jewish People returns to full, holy engagement with life.
Food for Thought
Prof. Aviezer Ravitzky – Hadash Min ha-Torah? (Engaging Modernity pg. 47-49): “The traditionalist ideologist criticizes his modernist counterpart for ambivalent, hyphenated approaches… According to him, all of these approaches, by virtue of their synthetic nature, upset the wholeness of Torah and its unity. A whole Torah does not require completion; it is sufficient unto itself. All of the above “additions” to the pure Torah… necessarily lead to an amputation of the full, complete… The Torah is required, as it were, to contract itself and to leave room for other values alongside itself. Similarly, these combinations would inevitably create a divided and split religious personality, torn between different sources, values, and authorities.
Secondly, the traditionalist critic argues, this dualistic approach, just as. it truncates the wholeness of the Torah source, also affects its inner purity. In order to foster a mixture of two disparate elements, in order to bring about any synthesis or integration, one must bring about an organic change in the nature of each of the original components: “Torah” combined with “labor” is no longer the same pure Torah. A yeshiva that is combined with a university or with military service is no longer a “sacred yeshiva.” The holy realm, in order to be united with the secular, must lose its own inner integrity…
[There is, however] a very different concept of wholeness… From its point of view, a whole Torah is not one that ab initio includes everything, but one which touches upon everything or can be applied towards anything. It does not exist as an abstract norm, dwelling in the bosom of the eternal alone, but as a dynamic demand, realizing its power and manifesting its vitality precisely in face of transformations. within historical time. If the world expands and widens, if man builds and destroys, and yet only the Torah contracts and is sufficient unto itself, it is not preserved, but rather withdraws and shrinks.
According to this model, the Torah is not understood as a pure idea… such that every organic relation affects its inner integrity. On the contrary, by its very nature the Torah is constantly engaged in relations of inclusion and enrichment. Indeed, for many modern religious thinkers, there exist truth and goodness and beauty which do not come into contact with the Torah, then the Torah would be displaced from its primacy. The same holds true with regard to the religious personality. In the present condition, where new realities surround man in all dimensions of life, choosing spiritual and intellectual isolation would require him to devote most of his energy to sealing off all openings. It would demand that he know less and less about human creatures and nature, about science and art, and it would thereby stifle many channels of creativity. Lacking such isolation, the preservation of a one dimension man who is never threatened by the external and novel would not be assured. Even here, therefore, preservation requires contraction and truncation, rather than wholeness and completion…”
Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch, The Nineteen Letters: “[The Jewish People] was to be a people in the midst of the people; as people it was to show the [other] people that God is the Source, and the Giver, of all blessing that to dedicate oneself to the fulfillment of His will means the attainment of all happiness that man can desire; that this sacred resolve is sufficient to give stability and security to human existence. It received, therefore, the blessings of a land and state power, not, however, as end, but as means of carrying out the Torah, its possession and retention dependent, therefore, upon fulfillment thereof as [the] only condition…There came the time when… [i]t became necessary to take away the abundance of earthly good, the wealth and the land, which had led it away from its mission; it was obliged to leave the happy soil which had seduced it from its allegiance to the Most High; nothing could be saved except the soul of its existence, the Torah; no other bond of unity should henceforth exist except “God and its mission,” which are indestructible, because they are spiritual. Through the annihilation of Israel’s state-life its mission did not cease, for that had been intended only as a means to an end. On the contrary, this destruction itself was part of its fate; so strangely commingled of divine and human elements, in exile and dispersion its mission was to be resumed in a different manner…The nation was scattered into the four quarters of the earth, unto all peoples and all zones, in order that in the dispersion it might better fulfill its mission.”
Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, Days of Deliverance (pg. 135-137): “Political inferiority does not go hand-in-hand with spiritual inferiority and submissiveness. The best example of this sort of paradoxical bravery is the bravery of the traditional Jew… For centuries, Jews lodged during a long, dark Diaspora night in all sorts of ghettos, unprotected, helpless, without rights, abandoned, despised and alone… But when Esau wanted a gift of Jacob’s sacred objects – the holiness of family life, the Sabbath, kashrut, accepted beliefs and traditions – or when Esav demanded that Jacob compromise his Torah and his way of living – then a remarkable transformation occurred within Jacob. Suddenly the coward, the quiet and unassuming Jew, became a hero, full of strength and stubbornness. Suddenly the crooked back straightened, the pitiful eyes began to spit fire, and he, the coward, refused Esav’s request with chutzpah and determination… And when Esav persisted and demanded things that were sacred, then the passive man, the coward, the man who said three times a day ‘And to such as curse me let my soul be dumb, and let my soul be unto all as the dust,’ became a fighter who resisted Esav with great stubbornness.”
Questions for Reflection and Discussion
- What can you do to make the Torah more relevant to your practical, day-to-day concerns, instead of something that only deals with abstract matters of the spirit?
- From Rav Kook, it sounds like Exile has been entirely bad for the Jewish people. Do you agree? If so, what are positive things that the Jewish people have attained or accomplished by virtue of being in Exile? (See Rav Soloveitchik and Rav Hirsch above for some possibilities.)
- Rav Kook writes that the Exile caused the Jewish people to see their spiritual heritage as irrelevant to worldly, practical matters. Do you think he’s talking about people who are Torah observant or those who have abandoned Orthodoxy for other belief systems? Or both?
- Read the excerpt above from Professor Aviezer Ravitzky. Professor Ravitsky is a leading scholar of Rav Kook, but the passage above is not intended as a commentary on Rav Kook’s weltanschauung. Do you think Rav Kook would agree with it? If not, why?
- What can you do to contribute to the revival of Jewish life and vitality and the Land of Israel?
[1] Rav Kook makes reference to the Talmud in Bava Kamma (38a), which recounts that Babylonians used to console mourners by asking (rhetorically) “What can possibly be done?” The Talmud describes this as blasphemous, presumably because it seems to question G-d’s judgment. Rav Kook is taking a more provocative interpretation (perhaps only as an allusion) – passivity and resignation is itself blasphemous, and such is the attitude of the “Babylonians,” i.e. those outside of Eretz Yisrael.