The Problem of Evil and Divine Providence (3)

 

Rihal: Two Interpretations

 

Let us now return to a section of the Kuzari which we mentioned earlier. In this section, Rihal explains that evil is not a chance occurrence but rather part of the divine plan, even if the plan is inexplicable to us. This section can be understood in two different ways. We will begin with Rambam's thesis.

 

     According to Rambam's approach, evil is an absence. Light is true presence; darkness is simply the absence of light. To use a banal everyday example, we could call this the doughnut hole approach. One cannot make a doughnut without making a hole. It is impossible to create a reality without the existence of an imperfect reality as well. This imperfection is what Rambam calls evil. Before creation, God had two options:

 

1. To create a perfect world, without people.

2. To create people, with the knowledge that the world will be imperfect.

 

Our conception of reality is one of imperfection. We could not exist in a perfect world, and we have no visa to a perfect world until we have perfected ourselves. God, the benevolent, created all possible worlds, and thus He also created the imperfect world in which we live.

 

     To our sorrow, sometimes the time comes to pay the dues of imperfection. We must accept evil as well, because evil is also part of reality. In and of itself, it is really the absence of goodness; imperfection is an absence. Evil has no meaning. It is a kind of doughnut hole that is necessary for existence.

 

     Although this approach seems to be optimistic, Rabbi Kook criticized it. He felt that at its root this position expressed despair. He chose to identify with the Kabbalistic approach, in which evil is not an absence but a reality, a structure built of Sefirot, the same spiritual building blocks God uses to manifest Himself in His world. What does this mean? If evil were the necessary result of reality, it could never be uprooted and destroyed. However, since evil is not an absence but a reality which God created so that we will have to pit ourselves against it and win, the possibility of obliterating evil begins to develop.

 

     Rihal's words can be interpreted from the perspectives of each of these two approaches. In Rambam's view, we must accept suffering as an unavoidable reality. This is stoic acceptance. The only help we can hope for is from psychologists. In contrast, Rabbi Kook teaches us something different. Evil exists, but it is not merely a part of nature; rather, it is in some way part of the divine plan. Even Satan is God's messenger, and not merely a remnant of evil in a world which can never hope to achieve perfection.

 

The Transformation Of Evil

 

We can read the rest of Rihal's explanation in light of these two approaches. He writes:

 

"and the person who has accepted all this will reach the level ascribed to Nahum of Gimzo, who would say about every difficulty he underwent, 'this is also for good' and he will live a life of continual quietude for troubles will seem trivial to him."

 

What did Nahum of Gimzo do? He turned suffering into a jumping point; he transformed the status of suffering.

 

"And he may rejoice in them, when he feels that the sin that was upon him is thus forgiven, as a man feels when he pays his debts, he is relieved and happy in it."

 

How are we to understand Rihal's language? Does this mean that  suffering is really the result of sin? Or perhaps we should understand it differently. Without presuming to understand the balance between sin and punishment, Nahum of Gimzo transformed suffering into a vehicle for the correction of sin. As Rabbi Soloveitchik taught us, the Halakha has given us the ability to transform suffering into repentance.

 

"And he will be happy in  the reward and recompense awaiting him, and he will give others through his joy the training to withstand suffering and believe in divine justice, and he will be glad of the fame and glory he will receive from this."

 

     This comment gives us an insight into human psychology, and is another of the flowers Rihal planted by the wayside in the Kuzari. When a person believes and experiences  the meaning of suffering, then to a certain extent his suffering diminishes, and he can view his situation differently. The person's perception of reality influences his experience of suffering, as well as influencing the general status of suffering.

 

     Thus, Rihal teaches us that when we experience suffering, there are a number of stages through which we must pass. The first stage is accepting the approach of Nahum of Gimzo. We do this when we believe that there is meaning to our suffering, even before we understand this meaning. The second stage is making personal biographical calculations of our own sins and suffering. I don't think that we can do this for others- unless we are prophets - but certainly each person must do it for himself. This second stage of awareness is the level that Rabbi Soloveitchik particularly emphasizes. He does not believe it is possible for man to reach an understanding of the larger theory of evil; rather, he places his emphasis on the personal calculation that one must construct.

 

     I cannot conclude without mentioning the unique Chassidic approach to this question. This is not a popular approach, and it demands a tremendous effort to experience it, but I will describe it nonetheless. It forms the basis of early Chassidic thought, and draws on the philosophy of the Ramchal [Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzato]. The reality we think we are seeing and experiencing is in truth a play. We are so deeply involved in the theater experience that we cannot see it for what it is, and we perceive it as reality. We are like children or simple minded people who watch a play and get angry at the behavior of one of the actors. For them, this is reality and they are a part of the play. Our reality, the reality of  exile and suffering, is merely a nightmare. When we reach redemption, we will understand that we were "in a dream" (Tehillim 126). This does not mean that we will not be able to believe that the redemption has really come; in fact, we will then realize that the exile was just a bad dream from which we are awakening. We will awaken from our earlier perception of reality, and then we will be able to truly understand our history and the suffering we underwent. This is the mystical approach. At the height of a spiritually uplifting moment, there is no evil. We suffer, of course, because we are inside that reality, as though we are in a dream from which we cannot awaken. The ascension of the Tzaddik's soul is the possibility to see reality as it really is. The Exodus from Egypt was a revelation of this type, witnessed by the entire nation. It was the moment when night turned into day, and was a presage of the day "which is neither day nor night." In the light of that day we will see world history differently. Then we will have the possibility of retroactive redemption, and the evil of the past will be erased.

Translated by Gila Weinberg