Read a Book, Read the Book—Be Challenged

Moses Maimonides died in 1204 and was buried in Fustat, Egypt. Later he was reinterred in Tiberias, Israel. He is considered the greatest Jewish scholar who ever lived. People continue to visit his grave and pay homage to his influence and scholarship.

Two of his works are often cited. His fourteen-volume compendium of Jewish law, Mishneh Torah, and his philosophical treatise, The Guide of the Perplexed, continue to hold sway over Jewish thought.  He is so influential that Abraham Joshua Heschel once remarked, “If one did not know that Maimonides was the name of a man, one would assume it was the name of a university.” Like many of my colleagues, I continue to turn to his writings for guidance.

It therefore might come as a surprise to learn that in the last years of his life, and following his death, his thinking and writing, were steeped in controversy. Fellow scholars found his suggestion that the Mishneh Torah was so comprehensive that it would render the rabbinic profession obsolete and threaten their livelihood. He argued that rabbis should not make their living as rabbis but should instead earn money through other vocations. Maimonides was a physician. Teaching Torah should only be done out of love for Torah.

Even more controversial was his attempt to synthesize traditional views with philosophical teachings. How do we reconcile tradition with contemporary ideas was Maimonides’ overarching question. He was enamored of Greek thought, and in particular the writings of Aristotle. Maimonides’ contemporaries leaned on ancient Greek philosophy. He discovered Aristotle from Muslim philosophers. When The Guide of the Perplexed was translated from Arabic to Hebrew, many traditional rabbis were aghast. In 1232 the leading rabbis of France issued a ban on The Guide, as well as the philosophical introduction to the Mishneh Torah.

In that same year Catholic leaders took up the cause of this anti-Maimonidean camp and burned his books. The traditionalists soon realized that their arguments had gone too far. The objections dissipated. The disagreements by and large died down. Over the centuries a compromise took hold. Study the tradition first. After sufficient mastery of these subjects, one can then dwell on philosophical writings. The banning of Maimonides’ writings was not attempted again.

The struggle continues. How do we reconcile contemporary thinking with traditional teachings?

This evening begins Shavuot, the holiday that marks the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai. 

There are many passages in this holy Torah that I find unsettling. God condones violence. There are others I find objectionable. God forbids homosexual relations. There are more than a few that have stirred my soul since the day I first discovered them. God commands, “Love the stranger.” If I were to judge the Torah by the verses with which I disagree, I might urge banning it. I might suggest that no young b’nai mitzvah students should ever read its words or ponder its implications.

On this Shavuot I recommit myself to the study of Torah. I find inspiration in its challenges.  

In doing so, I also recommit to reading books and pondering their meaning. 

The point, of reading, and studying, and learning is to be challenged.

And so now, it’s off to the bookstore. I need to purchase Toni Morrison’s Beloved and Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.  I need to add them to my reading list.

Every word offers a challenge and an inspiration, every sentence the opportunity for renewed obligation.