The Paradox of Particularism

 The Missionary Question

 

            Christianity feels obligated to spread its spiritual message far and wide.  A similar concept exists, at least in principle, in Islam.  And yet, the Jewish religion does not seek out converts.  Why?

 

            The antisemitic explanation is that this separatist attitude stems from the egocentricity and "exclusivity" of Judaism.  The Jew is interested only in the Jew, and does not concern himself with the spiritual fate of others.  The antisemite interprets the concept of chosenness as the basis for the claim that God cares for the Jews and the Jews alone.  Unfortunately, some Jews accept this explanation as well.  They would perhaps change their minds were they to peruse the annals of Jewish history, which unveil the tremendous conversion efforts which marked previous generations.  History describes a Jewish movement whose stated goal was to spread the Jewish religion among the Gentiles, however, it was terminated by bloodshed.  In the course of history, our ancestors learned to be very careful, both for their own sake and for the sake of the converts themselves.

 

            Although the original and authentic Jewish attitude towards conversion was positive, perhaps the current objection to Jewish missionary activity can help us uncover another dimension of this issue.  Understanding the Jewish attitude toward conversion and toward members of other religions is linked to major issues in Jewish thought and Jewish law.  However, our starting point must reach back to before the giving of the Torah.  A number of covenants preceded the covenant at Sinai; a particularly significant early covenant was the divine pact with 'the children of Noah.'  Our response to the question of missionary work is based upon the rabbinical statement that whoever accepts the seven commandments given to the children of Noah is counted among the righteous Gentiles.  At Sinai the Jewish people accepted the Torah, and therefore the Torah and commandments obligate Israel alone.  However, alongside the Torah's law we find a basic moral law which applies to all of mankind, the children of Adam and Noah, those who are not members of the Israelite covenant with God.  The seven Noachide laws obligate all of mankind.

 

            This is another dimension of the 'segulic' character of the Jewish nation.  In the messianic era all of mankind will maintain a basic and universal religious and ethical awareness even without obeying the Torah's commandments.  Only Israel, as 'a kingdom of priests and a holy nation,' will be obligated to keep the Torah's six hundred and thirteen commandments.

 

            Given this background, we can approach the enigma.  Let us reopen the central question: why does Christianity need the Mission?  The answer is simple.  Christianity is convinced that salvation is impossible outside the church.  A non-Christian, despite unwavering faith in God, and a life of prayer and moral behavior, will not merit the world to come, without accepting the Christian sacraments.  This is true not only regarding those who have come in contact with Christianity and rejected the Christian position; a similar fate awaits persons who have never heard of Christianity, such as the natives of a distant island who are unaware of Christian doctrines, as well as those Jews who had the misfortune to live before the coming of Jesus!  As a result of this belief, Christianity considers itself obligated to deal kindly with non-Christians by opening the gates of Heaven for them through missionary activity.  This desire to 'save' others found tragic and often brutal expression in the ideology behind the Inquisition: The body must be burned in order to save the soul.  This approach maintains that the Christian faith is the sole route to eternal happiness.  Judaism views salvation in a different light.  'Chauvinistic and particularistic' Judaism offers other alternatives.  The road to salvation through Torah is one option, which was granted to the Jewish people, while a second, universal alternative exists in the seven Noachide laws.

 

            Thus we are faced with a paradox.  The path which initially appeared universal is in essence particular.  However, the 'particularistic' Jew is tolerant, and allows for pluralism, for he claims that there are many paths to salvation.  The covenant at Sinai created a road to salvation which obligates the Jews and transforms them into the priests of the world, into a holy nation.  However, the Jewish covenant with God does not preclude other routes to salvation.  We must therefore acknowledge the potential for synthesis between particularism and universalism, between the commitment to a specific framework, and openness to the world.  This balance is described in the introduction to the revelation at Sinai: "And now if you will surely listen to me and keep my covenant, you will be for me a 'segula' form all the nations, for mine is ALL the land" (Shemot 19:5).  This verse suggests the synthesis between these two principles, between a description of the Jews as a  special nation and a kingdom of priests on the one hand, and the concept that 'mine is all the land,' all the land and all the nations belong to God.  Our ultimate hope is that all the nations will eventually recognize the truth, however, even those who do not achieve this level can be saved if they attain the status of the children of Noah or of righteous Gentiles.

 

            Christianity is universal and addresses the whole world, precisely because it is particularistic.  Judaism, on the other hand, is particularistic because of its universal character.  Judaism was the path given to the Jewish people.  Yet the Gentiles may also merit their share in the world to come.  The fact that we are not missionaries stems from our belief that all non-Jews are not automatically sentenced to eternal damnation.  This is the ultimate significance of the Noachide laws.

 

Righteous Gentiles: The non-Jew's salvation

 

            The Jewish view of this issue can be understood through the analysis of a difficult passage in the Rambam's renowned work, the 'Mishneh Torah.'  In the Laws of Kings (8:11), the Rambam deals with the issue of the children of Noah, and with those who are destined to receive a portion in the world to come:

 

"Whoever accepts upon himself the seven commandments and is careful to fulfill them is one of the righteous Gentiles and has a place in the world to come.  This is only if he accepts them and does them because God commanded thus in the Torah and informed us through Moses our teacher that the children of Noah were previously commanded [to keep] them.  But if he did them out of the conviction of his reason, he ... is not [considered one of] the righteous Gentiles (but rather) (and not) of their wise men."

 

            This is an interesting example of a case where accuracy to the letter is important not only for philosophical reasons.  We have two versions of this last sentence in the Rambam.  Should we read the sentence 'but rather' or 'and not?'  It seems but a small difference, yet, this text holds the key to understanding the Rambam's position.  According to one approach, Judaism demands that the nations of the world explicitly recognize the Mosaic revelation in order to merit eternal reward.  According to the other, they need only accept the minimal content of the revelation.

 

            Through the perusal of ancient manuscripts, particularly the manuscript of the 'Mishneh Torah' which can be found in the Bodelian library in Oxford, we have discovered that the words 'and not' are apparently incorrect.  The correct reading of he text is 'but rather.'  In other words, the Rambam is informing us that there are two potential religious levels of the children of Noah.  On one level, the children of Noah merit the world to come by way of righteousness, because they are rooted in the revelation at Sinai, and the giving of the Torah.  On the other level, they merit the world to come autonomously, through their intellect, as is the way of wise men and scholars.  The faith of the righteous man is fundamentally different from that of the wise man.  This difference notwithstanding, both merit the world to come.

 

            This position seems surprisingly liberal.  However, it seems to me that our rabbis have clearly instituted this attitude through the  concept of 'a baby that was captured' [in which case the Jewish child who was abducted by Gentiles is not considered liable for his lack of Jewish knowledge] for 'they follow in the ways of their fathers.'  "God does not act with 'trunia' towards his creations" (Tractate Avoda Zara 3a).  The word 'trunia' is the Hebrew adaptation of the Greek word 'tyrannia,' or in modern English, tyranny.  God does not inflict harsh judgment upon a person who has done no wrong.  However, every man has the option of understanding the ethical law and experiencing the immediate and almost instinctual relationship with God.  These are universal and general commandments, and anyone possessing intellectual and logical capacities can easily arrive at them.  The road to the world to come, to eternal salvation, is open to all children of Noah, in other words, to all of mankind.

 

            Was this truly the historical position of the Rambam, or is this merely a modern, 'liberal' interpretation?  From the context of Rambam's general approach, it becomes abundantly clear that he greatly esteemed all those who attained religious truth through the autonomous path of reason, such as Aristotle.  However, a more appropriate and dramatic example can be found in the figure of Abraham the Patriarch, who discovered the truth through self study, even before he merited prophecy.  Thus, we may infer that according to the Rambam, two legitimate types of religious knowledge exist: the religious knowledge of the righteous Gentiles, and the religious knowledge attained by their wise men.  For the wise men of the nations of the world will also merit eternal life in the Garden of Eden.  This interpretation was accepted by Rav Kook.  In his footsteps, and in the footsteps of the Rambam, we may assert that salvation is possible even without the direct influence of the revelation at Sinai.  Those who attain veritable beliefs through their intellectual endeavors merit the world to come as well.

 

            Rav Kook writes: (Iggerot ha-Re'iya 89, vol. 1: 99-100)

 

"Regarding the righteous Gentiles of whom the Rambam wrote ... behold the correct version is 'but rather from their wise men,' and it seems to me that the Rambam's intention is ... that the level ... is specifically that of righteous Gentiles who have not mastered intellectual abilities, but rather accepted the faith with the purity of heartfelt emotions, and followed an honest path because of their acceptance that their commandments were given in this form by God; however, one who merited comprehension of the seven Noachide laws through the decisive power of his intellect is truly wise of heart and full of reason -- he is considered to be of their wise men, for the attribute of wisdom is very great, and there is no need to say that he has a portion in the world to come."

 

Some acquire their world [to come] in a single hour: Are good intentions good enough?

 

            Upon analyzing this question, you will immediately perceive that the Jewish approach does not constitute an ideological innovation.  Let us begin our analysis.  The struggle with idolatry is an essential Torah principle.  And yet, we find a seemingly contradictory pronouncement in Malakhi's prophecy:

 

"From the dawn of the sun in the east until its setting in the west My Name is great among the nations, and in every place incense is presented for My Name and pure flour offering, for My Name is great among the nations, said the Lord of Hosts." (Malakhi 1:11)

 

            We find different positions regarding the interpretation of this verse.  There are those who claim that it refers to the Jews in the Diaspora, while others suggest that it hints at the Gentiles.  Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra solves the problem by adding the word 'if' to the verse: 'If I had commanded, they would have offered me an honorable thing, incense would have been offered to me ... and they would have hearkened to me to praise my great name."  Rabbi David Kimchi (Radak), the classic medieval exegete of the Prophets, explained the verse differently:

 

"For even though they worship the constellations of the heavens, they acknowledge Me as the first cause; however, they worship them based on their opinion that they are intermediaries between Myself and them, and [thus] Chazal said, 'They call him the god of gods."

 

            According to Radak's interpretation it is possible that even an idolater could possess misguided good intentions.  This is similar to the Rambam's position (Hilkhot Avoda Zara Chapter 1) that the appearance of idolatry was a distortion of the original monotheistic ideal.

 

            Now we must approach a complex issue.  According to the Rambam, and prior to him, Rabbenu Bachaye, this question is related to what is termed the doctrine of Divine attributes.  We will discuss this doctrine later.  According to these thinkers it is essential that one form in his soul a proper and, as far as possible, an exact concept of God.  Why should he create this image in his mind?  Allow me to explain by way of a simple parable: Let us imagine that we are sending a letter.  The most important part of the letter is the address, which must appear on the envelope so that the letter will reach its destination.  The letter symbolizes the worship of God.  The concept of God which we serve is the address.  According to this understanding, if the address is deficient, such as when one who worships a concept of God that is flawed because of corporealization, or because of another basic misunderstanding of the divine concept, we find ourselves mailing the letter, our service and love, to the wrong address.  The Rambam's great contribution to this discussion was that the problem of attributes cannot be resolved with a linguistic solution.  In other words, we may use different linguistic expressions that seem 'spiritual,' yet, the concept of God that comes along with those expressions does not meet the necessary standards of holiness.  Man is not judged by the words that he uses in his religious worship (as is common in other religions, which were attacked by the thinkers of the Middle Ages concerning the fact that a mere isolated statement sufficed to allow one to join the fold) but rather by  the purity of the divine concept that he holds within.  In other words, the great significance lies not in man's words but in the divine image that one fashions from these words, as the Rambam explains in Moreh Nevukhim (I:50).  Thus, we  have a religious commandment, for if we did not create this divine concept we would find ourselves, in a sense, discussing religious thought in a foreign language.  The solution lies not in the language but in the content.

 

            Parallel to this position, there is another that is not so rigid.  I would describe it by saying that if the mail system is sophisticated enough, the letter will reach the addressee even with a mistake in the address.  In other words, those same philosophers who did not do obeisance to the rational side in man were able to accept mistakes in the divine concept.  It seems to me that this is how we must understand the argument between the Rambam and the Ra'avad in the Laws of Repentance regarding those great and naive people who worshipped God by corporealization.

 

            We can glean an important principle from here.  Perhaps we may say that God judges man and humanity in two different ways.  To what can this be likened?  Imagine that you see two mountain climbers.  The question is, which one is more  accomplished?  A is at a higher point than B.  If we were to judge by height, A has certainly achieved more.  But on the other hand it may be that they were both skylifted to certain heights by a helicopter, and while A went further down, B went up.  From this perspective B's achievement is more significant.  In mathematics we differentiate between the function and the derivative.  God judges the objective reality by the function, and man based on the derivative.

 

Our conflict with the East

 

            We continually jump forward and backward in time at each stage of our discussion, as though we were traveling in a time machine.  We must return to the world of the Kuzari both in order to comprehend the man and his surroundings, and to bring the Kuzari to our world, as a symbol of modern man's struggle with his existential problems.  At this point, the Kuzari recognizes the fundamental fact that no concept of religion may exist without the Bible.  With the birth of modern Existentialism, Kierkegaard rediscovered the human encounter with God, and found himself compelled to return to the Bible.  He shut the door on philosophy, and returned to Abraham and the Sacrifice of Isaac.  Pascal before him did the same.  Both returned to R. Yehuda Halevi.

 

            The human quest for spirituality is comparable to a board game.  However, this game, unlike chess, involves more than two players.  Game pieces of many different colors decorate the board.  The first piece is the product of the prophetic call; this piece represents the man who hears the divine summons.  The second piece symbolizes the fruit of the human mind.  This is the man who waves the banner of Rationalism and sets out to single-handedly construct rational laws.  These players compete with each other.  However, at times they sign a tactical agreement against the other players.  Such is the pact between Shem and Yefet, which laid the foundations of Western culture.

 

            Alongside the prophet and the rationalist, a third player participates in this game.  He presents an alternative option in the continual duel between rationalism and divine instruction: idolatry.  It is indeed shocking and alarming to discover that in our modern and progressive society, which views religion as a thing of the past, new idolatrous practices continually appear, such as Hare Krishna, the various Gurus, and even devil worship.  Dealing with idolatry, then, is not merely a thing of the past.  It is a continual and weighty undertaking, which must be accorded appropriate attention.

 

            Besides these well-known players, we find the 'eastern options.'  These religious possibilities are many and varied.  Yet, if we wish to generalize, we may assert that they all share two fundamental components.  One of these components is somewhat acceptable, while the other is, in our view, completely invalid.  The idolatrous element and its remnants constitute the unacceptable ingredient; the valid component is the attempt to achieve a mystical experience.  The mystical experience can be found in all cultures, and in and of itself is not invalid.  Mysticism claims to a unique connection with the divine.  We will examine this relationship at another juncture.  Mysticism in our Jewish framework translates into Kabbala and Chassidism.  Were we to compare Jewish mysticism with the mysticism of other religions, we would discover interesting similarities as well as enormous differences.  Without entering upon a detailed discussion of the topic, I will simply state that mysticism can not be considered the sole focus of Judaism.  In order to understand this statement, we must understand the essential difference between prophecy and mysticism.  Mysticism promises redemption for the individual, but forgets to redeem the material world; prophecy heralds the redemption of the world in its entirety.  On a different note, mysticism unfettered by Halakha (Jewish law) can be dangerous.  Jewish history has provided us with some fascinating examples of this truth.

 

            These two principles are of paramount importance.  The mystic resides at the peak of a hill, and invites the world's unique and singular individuals to join him.  Yet, the world remains what it was: a vale of tears.  The mystic looks down upon the common man's needs: children, livelihood, and food.  These concerns appear to him as trivial as a game of marbles or dolls.  When a man reaches the hilltop he will view everything from the proper perspective, and realize that these petty concerns are truly insignificant.  The conclusion from this vantage point is obvious; it is futile to waste effort and energy on meaningless things.  And yet, these meaningless things translate into millions of people dying of poverty and famine.

 

            This brings us to discuss another player.  Among the numerous Jewish figures who dramatically altered the face of the world, one man's influence extended as far as the eastern world.  This is a Jew who belonged to a group that we, who remain faithful to the Torah and its commandments, discredit  and justifiably term "marginal Jews."  And yet, it is impossible to deny the fact that this group drew much of its content from the principles of Judaism and the prophetic tradition.  It is astonishing to notice, among the banners of the parade marking the first of May in China, pictures of a classic 'bearded Jew,' Karl Marx.  This fact reiterates, albeit with the necessary qualifications, one of Rav Kook's basic axioms: remarkable individuals exist in all nations and civilizations, yet, the religious history of the world has always been uniquely and decisively influenced by a single collective entity: the Jewish Nation.  This is the essence of Israel's chosenness.

 

            World history could have developed in numerous directions.  The direction of history was decidedly influenced by the existence of the Jewish nation, and that is precisely the sum and substance of the chosenness of Israel.  There are other aspects of the doctrine of chosenness, and we will deal with them in the future.  In any case, the unique status of the Jewish people stems, first and foremost, from a simple historical fact: the quest for religious meaning requires an encounter with Judaism.

 

 (This lecture was translated by Gila Weinberg.)

 

Copyright (c)1996 Prof. Shalom Rosenberg, Yeshivat Har Etzion.  All rights reserved.