October 8, 2000
Netsavim (Deuteronomy 29:9-14, 30:11-20)
It is crucial for both science and religion not to confuse the bizarre with the ultimately mysterious. This caution is attributed to that nineteenth-century paragon of scientific detection, Sherlock Holmes, the subject of a recent book by Stephen Kendrick, Parish Minister of the Universalist Church in West Hartford, Connecticut, entitled Holy Clues: Investigating Lifes Mysteries with Sherlock Holmes.
In "A Study in Scarlet," Dr. Watson happens on a magazine article entitled
"The Book of Life," which, it turns out, is by none other than Sherlock
Holmes himself. ("The Book of Life"is a key phrase from the liturgy for
the high holy days could Holmes have been a bit Jewish?) In this
essay by Holmes we read the following:
All life is a great chain, the nature of which is known whenever we
are shown a single link of it. Like all the arts, the Science of Deduction
and Analysis is one which can only be acquired by long and patient study;
nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to attain the highest possible
perfection in it. Before turning to those moral and mental aspects of the
matter which present the greatest difficulties, let the inquirer begin
by mastering more elementary problems. Let him, on meeting a fellow-mortal,
learn at a glance to distinguish the history of the man, and the trade
and profession to which he belongs. . . . By a persons fingernails, by
his coat sleeve, by his boots, by his trouser knees, by the callosities
of his forefinger and thumb, by his expression, by his shirt-cuffs
by each of these things an individuals calling is revealed. That all united
should fail to enlighten the competent inquirer in any case is almost inconceivable.
In an often-cited exchange between the two principal figures of the
canon ("Silver Blaze,"1894) Watson asks Holmes,
"Is there any other point to which you would wish to draw my attention?"
"To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time."
"The dog did nothing in the night-time."
"That was the curious incident," remarked Sherlock Holmes.
When evaluating what is pertinent, even the absence of a ordinary phenomenon
can be crucially important. Meaning speaks in a voice of quiet whispering,
not in shouts.
To gain insight into ultimate reality, wed best start with the commonplace, unexceptional, garden-variety experience, and through it ascend to higher states of insight. Thus Kendrick writes: "When Holmes is truly in his element, in the middle of an investigation, his attention to this great book [the Book of Life], through its minute details of grass, dirt, and dust, is a kind of meditative trance of complete absorption. . . . This is happiness of a kind many scientists would readily identify. They know well the truth of Albert Einsteins words, that "the most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science." There are the small mysteries of life, as in the mysteries we read for relaxation and titillation, the middle-range mysteries of why apples fall from trees and the stock market goes up and down as it does, and the ultimate mysteries, the wonder why we are here, why there is the cosmic order that there is. Einstein is quoted as having said that "it is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity."
You may be wondering what the connection of these Holmesian-Einsteinian
musings are to Netsavim, the Torah portion for this morning. Kenderick
calls our attention to these verses which we will soon hear recited in
Hebrew:
They [the scientists] identify with the writer of Deuteronomy 30:11-12,
where God speaks these encouraging words: Surely, this instruction . .
. is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond reach. It is not in the
heavens, that you should say, 'Who among us can go up to the heavens and
get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?' On the one
hand, the mystery of God is not meant to baffle or defeat us; it is not
beyond reach. On the other hand, this mystery is not something that we
dispel or subdue the mysterious is the very essence of what we reveal
as we experience more and more of reality. It is in this sense that science
and religion are complimentary, not antagonistic.
With reference to science and religion, mystery is rational (the weird
and bizarre are grist for the scientists explanations), while reason as
such is mysterious (why is there a universe at all and why its laws can
be grasped by the human mind seem to require some leaps of faith). Kendrick
remarks that "I have often wanted to have described across the portals
of every church and temple this dictum of Holmess: It is a mistake to confound
strangeness with mystery. This is a mistake people attracted to all forms
of religion can, and do, make." The great twentieth-century Jewish rabbi
and thinker, Leo Baeck, noted that awareness of the mystery of existence
is the ultimate source of religion, adding that mere contemplation of the
mystery is not what our religion is really about.
Let Albert Einstein come to our aid, the Einstein that said to Max Born, "I am convinced that God does not play dice," the Einstein that wrote, "God is subtle, but he is not malicious," the Einstein that concluded "Science without religion is lame; religion without science is blind."
To be sure, relations between religion and science since the sixteenth century have been problematic, as illustrated by the Catholic controversies over Copernicus and Galileo and the Fundamentalist controversies over Darwin and the theory of evolution. But we are modern and we have no trouble saying there are elements of traditional religion -- and of traditional Judaism -- which are obsolete, even obstructive of further human progress. As an intellectual historian and a teacher of world history as well as Jewish history, I am inclined to the view that Jewish monotheism played an essential role, alongside ancient Greek science and philosophy, in laying the ground for modern science. Biblical monotheism stripped the heavenly bodies and other natural phenomena of their divinity, encouraging the search for the rational laws that describe the working of nature. "The heavens declare the glory of God, the sky proclaims his handiwork" (Psalm 19:1). The sun, moon, and stars are not gods but things that were brought into being in the process of the unfolding of the universe from its initial week or microsecond, which our religion interprets as the paradigmatic act of divine creativity.
What remains of the mystery after the heavenly bodies, the storm and the sea, the powers of fertility and war, and every other awesome force of nature and history, are stripped of their divinity? What is left for religion? In the words of our Torah portion, it is to make human life a "blessing and not a curse," to further "life and not death," to teach "good and not evil." Science helps us understand was and is but does not show us what to value, which religions have been only too willing to do, often wrongly but at times rightly.
Religion and science at heart are complimentary, but they differ in the practical and theoretical discourse appropriate to each.
Netsavim emphasizes that the essence of religion above all, the essence of Judaism is to actualize a certain ideal of human life. Religion is not inextricably rooted in any set of scientific beliefs, however venerated or cutting edge. (All scientific systems, from ancient to modern times eventually become outdated and are superseded.) Moses exclaims, "For this commandment . . . is in your heart, and you can do it."
It is fascinating to read ancient apocalyptic accounts, including Jewish ones, of those who visited the heavenly palaces and approached the divine throne, or modern apocalyptics who claim they arrived on earth on the back of a comet or await the resurrection of their rebbi. It is fascinating to study the supernal, mystical secrets of the Kabbalah with its sefirot of God and paradigmatic unifications, depictions of which can now be purchased even on a sidewalk table at the Columbus Avenue street fair. Certainly remarkable were the nineteenth-century discovery of molecules and atoms, the twentieth-century discovery of electrons, neutrons and the other trons, the more recent intellectual exposition of even more elemental particles: the down, up, bottom, top, strange, and charm quarks, not to mention the leptons after their kind. But our religion isnt wedded to any of these accounts of ultimate reality. That there is a rational order to nature is a assumption, ultimately religious, that can never be proven -- but it undergirds the scientific project itself. Beyond that, religions truth lies in the authority of the moral law and, therefore, as Mosess speech remarks, in our hearts.
The validity of Judaism that is, of Torah stands on its own as a guide to how to make us better human beings. Judaism indicates how we can become more human by being more morally sensitive Jews. Science alone can never provide this. The prophets, the sages, and Moses have as much to offer in this regard as ever.
Kodashim (Leviticus 19)
We noted this morning that our religion places at center stage improving the everyday world, repairing its moral defects, and making ourselves better persons. Indeed, religion at best can inculcate that awareness of holiness that is the perspective out of which comes a moral life.
Leo Baeck wrote the following in an essay entitled God and Man in Judaism:
The sense of infinity and eternity and mystery was wakened by the faith
in the One God, and led to search and reflection. The Hebrew mind divined
Him as present in the mysterious and as living on into a Beyond. The Lord
hath said that He would dwell in the thick darkness, said Solomon in his
prayer at the dedication of the temple, [2 Chron. 6:1], and a later writer
makes one of Jobs friends try to end all argument and dispute by saying:
Teach us what we shall say until Him; for we cannot order our speech by
reason of darkness [Job 37:19]. The One God is the Exalted One, Whose greatness
is veiled in mystery. It was from this source that concept of sublimity
gathered its entire contents and its whole symbolic power, and it was here
that the reflection of the sublime the poetical conception of the
world and of the universe as the handiwork of God was disclosed.
Further, the sense of humility that awakens in mans heart in the presence
of the sublime grows and finds expression the consciousness that
in Gods presence man is petty, insufficient, and impotent, merely a work
of His hands and yet a work of His hands, one born of God and therefore
akin to him. I am but dust and ashes [Gen. 18:27], says Abraham to God,
and yet he argues and remonstrates with Him. The same note is heard in
the Psalms: "What is man, that Thou art mindful of him? And the son of
man, that Thou thinkest of him? Yet Thou has made him but little lower
than the angels and has crowned him with glory and honor [Psalm 8:4-5].
Baeck pointed out in his many writings that religion may be born in
human recognition of the mystery of natural existence, but religion takes
on substance from moral commandments that science by itself can not discover
on its own turf. This is particularly evident in this afternoons Torah
portion, the core of the Holiness Code, which consists of a quite specific
list of duties:
Keep the sabbath. Honor your parents. Make provision for the poor. Be honest in business practices. Do not commit robbery which comprises not robbing people only of their possessions but also of their dignity, as in the injunction that the wages of a laborer should not remain with you overnight until morning. Do not curse the deaf nor put a stumbling block before the blind. (A stumbling block before the blind, certainly. but the commentators asked, whats the great harm in cursing the deaf, since they cannot hear what is said to them? Because it strips them of their dignity.) Do not slander. Establish as objective as possible a standard of justice in your society, beyond favoring the rich or the poor as such. Do not hate, do not seek vengeance. Dont abuse children or senior citizens. Show due regard for nature, which has been put in your trust. Dont make idols for yourselves to worship (the last two allude to verses of Leviticus 19 which have not been included in the excerpt in our Reform prayer book.) Treat the stranger with respect. The principles underlying the chapter are epitomized in the verse, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself."
There is a lot of misery and pain in the world that rightly concerns us. On Yom Kippur we resolve to start with ourselves. "If not now, when?"
In Hasidism and Modern Man, Martin Buber recounted the following tale,
which he notes is found in various traditions:
Rabbi Bunam used to tell young men who came to him for the first time
the story of Rabbi Eizik, son of Rabbi Yekel of Cracow. After many years
of great poverty which had never shaken his faith in God, he dreamed someone
bade him look for a treasure in Prague, under the bridge which leads to
the kings palace. When the dream recurred a third time, Rabbi Eizik prepared
for the journey and set out for Prague. But the bridge was guarded day
and night and he did not dare to start digging. Nevertheless he went to
the bridge every morning and kept walking around it until evening. Finally
the captain of the guards, who had been watching him, asked in a kindly
way whether he was looking for something or waiting for somebody. Rabbi
Eizik told him of the dream which had brought him here from a faraway country.
The captain laughed: And so to please the dream, you poor fellow wore out
your shoes to come here! As for having faith in dreams, if I had had it,
I should have had to get going when a dream once told me to go to Cracow
and dig for treasure under the stove in the room of a Jew Eizik,
son of Yekel, that was the name! Eizik, son of Yekel! I can just imagine
what it would be like, how I should have to try every house over there,
where one half of the Jews are named Eizik and the other Yekel! And he
laughed again. Rabbi Eizik bowed, traveled home, dug up the treasure from
under the stove, and built the House of Prayer which is called Reb Eizik
Reb Yekels Shul.
From this tale Buber teaches: "There is something that can only be
found in one place. It is a great treasure, which may be called the fulfillment
of our existence. The place where this treasure can be found is the place
on which one stands."
Holiness is that treasure. To sense the mystery and fulfill the commandment,
we should start where we are, here, and now.