The Moral Objective of Torah

At the end of last weeks Parsha, Bilaam masterfully plotted to seduce Israelite men with foreign women. Having succeeded, a terrible plague was sent by God to punish the Israelites for their illicit actions. The Torah writes that Pinchas, the son of Elazar ha-Kohen, witnessed an as of yet anonymous Israelite man engaging in sexual relations with a Midianite woman. Unhesitatingly, he proceeded to kill both of them in the midst of the act. It was Pinchas' singular act of zealotry that ended the plague cast upon the Jewish people.

In the beginning of this weeks Parsha, God explicitly tells Moshe that he was pleased with Pinchas' deed. As a result, God promises Pinchas and his descendants that they will perpetuate the priestly lineage for the rest of human history. It is at this point that the name of the Pinchas' victim is revealed: none other than Zimri, a leader from the tribe of Shimon. The anonymous victim from Parshat Balak is thus immediately transformed into a very real individual, no less than a leader among the people. This is the tragic story of the fall of someone whom society had put their trust in. How many times in our own lives have our leaders disappointed us? It is never an easy pill to swallow.

Nevertheless, I have always found this narrative to be terribly perplexing. Why was Pinchas permitted to kill Zimri? Doesn't the Halacha require azarah - warning - followed by testimony before beit din in order to effect the death penalty on the accused? All of these legal questions and more were answered by our very own Josh Gutenberg over Shabbos, so I won't dwell on those issues now. What I hope to shed some light on is why Pinchas' act of manslaughter was seen, in the eyes of God, as the praiseworthy action of a righteous man.

The answer lies in our perspective. How do we view the purpose of law? The stance taken by the American legal system is that the law is meant to protect the individuals rights from being exploited by another person. For example, it only wrong for Reuven to steal from Shimon because it is Shimon's right to not have his property stolen. Regarding such a legal perspective, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks writes that the secular legal system takes a passive approach to the idea of a moral imperative.

In Rabbi Sacks' own words: "Rights are passive, responsibilites active. Rights are demands we make on others, responsibilites are demands others make on us. A responsibility-based culture exists in the active mode. It emphasizes giving over receiving. What is wrong with rights-talk, is that is draws on resources that only exist if we recognize responsibilities. It neglects the moral commitments we need to create if rights are to be honored at all. Rights are the result of responsibilities; they are secondary, not primary. A society that does not train its citizens to be responsibile will be one in which, too often, rights talk will be mere rhetoric, honored in the breach, not the observance."

As citizens of Israel we have a responsibility first, and foremost, to God. Respect for the laws of God leads us to respect the rights of man. Pinchas internalized this message. But have we?

Have a great week.

Medieval Approaches to the Personage of Azazel

Aharei Mot opens with an enticing narrative surrounding the mysterious deaths of Aaron's sons. After some cautionary remarks from God regarding the desecration of the Holy of Holies by those without knowledge on how to properly enter, Scripture segues into laying out the entire somber service of the Day of Atonement. Soon God recounts the ever-intriguing commandment involving two goats, one designated as a sacrifice to God, and the other to an unknown entity, transliterated literally as Azazel. The goat designated for Azazel was divined utilizing an oft invoked biblical variant of cleromancy, colloquially known as the casting of lots. It is not before long that this 'scapegoat' (as he has come to be known by in contemporary parlance) is on his way to an unknown, and enigmatic, fate. 

Opinions from the medieval Jewish commentators vary greatly on who or what Azazel is. Several medieval commentaries shall be examined in the course of this analysis, but the four basic ones are those of French sage Rashi, his grandson the Rashbam, the Spanish poet-physician Ibn Ezra, and the also Spanish physician and mystic Nahmanides. Following the presentation of these opinions, another often overlooked medieval commentary, the Zohar, shall be examined in light of the Nahmanidean view. A comparison shall then be drawn between these medieval mystical views and those contained within pre-Exilic apocryphal works authored by sectarians in the Second Temple period. 

We shall begin with Rashi's understanding of the word Azazel. Quoting the Talmud (1), Rashi elucidates Azazel as the name of the mountain where the aforementioned goat was pushed off of to complete the atonement ritual. Linguistically, Azazel is described as a compound of two words. "Az", meaning strong, and "El", which in context can be liberally rendered as mighty. By explaining Azazel in this fashion, Rashi avoids all potential theological problems with these verses. His grandson, however, takes a much different approach.

As is generally known, the Rashbam's approach to a literal understanding of Scripture is just that, strictly literal. Even when the Rabbinic tradition as contained in the Talmud is shown to be in conflict with his understanding of the verses, he does not budge. To the Rashbam, a literal reading of Scripture was distinct from any Rabbinic interpretation. His approach to the scapegoat is no different, indeed, he explains the ritual in a completely novel fashion. The goat which was designated to Azazel is not killed as per the Rabbinic tradition, rather, he is set free into the wilderness to graze with other wild goats. (2) Astonishingly, he attempts to prove this understanding linguistically by suggesting the final letter in Azazel, a lamed, is superfluous! Thusly, the word Azazel somehow becomes an amalgamation of another Hebrew word for goats, "Izim" and the word "Arbel" (also with the superfluous lamed), to become a phrase loosely translated as "place of the goats". Needless to say, this convoluted explanation has astounded Jewish commentators for the centuries that followed, including the Ibn Ezra, whose own explanation is no less perplexing. 

The Ibn Ezra begins his lengthy comment on the scapegoat ritual by claiming that the practice of divining the chosen goat by lots is a received tradition from our forefathers.(3) What motivates him to do this is unknown, but perhaps it has something to do with the magical nature of the act, which he feels needs some justification. He then proceeds to segue from the aforementioned Talmudic explanation of Azazel as a rugged mountain into a full fledged recollection of the ritual, culminating in the climactic pushing of the goat off the cliff to its death. Following this, his commentary takes a surprising turn into the realm of the inexplicable. Ibn Ezra now refers to this ritual by the Hebrew word for secret, "sod", and clandestinely tells his reader that by understanding the true nature of the ritual, so too will you understand the esoteric meaning behind the name Azazel. He agrees to reveal only a small fragment of the arcane matter by way of a hint: "When you are thirty three years old, you shall know it." For a commentator as traditionally opposed to the approach of the Ibn Ezra as Nahmanides was, he wastes no time before expounding on his cryptic comment.

Citing traditional support in Pirkei d'Rabbi Eliezer (4), Nahmanides likens the personage of Azazel to a figure named Samael, an angelic accuser of sorts. He goes on to explain that in Egypt, the Israelites became accustomed to the worship of foreign gods, which included the worship of fallen angels. In desolate areas of the world, like deserts, the fallen angel Azazel has dominion. Although the Torah forbids the worship of deities other than the one God, He Himself commanded that we send this scapegoat to Azazel, in order to show the accusatory figure the strength of Israel's repentance from past sins. Furthermore, Nahmanides makes it clear that the scapegoat is not an offering to Azazel, and that Azazel is no less a servant of God than any other entity on Earth. Returning to the Ibn Ezra's hint, he explains it as referring to the thirty-third verse following the first mention of Azazel in Scripture. This verse, Leviticus 17:7, states: "They shall no longer slaughter their offerings to the sa'irim (demons)". Indeed, Nahmanides understands a ritual where Israel sends a goat to the lord of demons as a divine polemic against idolatry. Although outwardly paradoxical, the delivery of a goat carrying all of the sins of Israel to its death at the knees of the 'lord of the goat demons' sends a powerful message about the power of repentance in the face of evil. 

Nahmanides was not the only medieval mystical commentary to address the personage of Azazel. The Zohar, a medieval work of mystical exegesis, explains thusly, "With this gift of the goat to Azazel, he [Azazel] is then converted to be their [Israel's] guardian."(5) The Zohar seems to go even further than Nahmanides and likens the delivery of a goat to Azazel to giving a dog a bone to preoccupy him while his master is busy. Later on in the Zohar's commentary on Aharei Mot, the discussion turns to the origin of earthbound demons. The Zohar explains that Adam, the first man, copulated with female spirits that inexplicably roamed the Earth.(6) The offspring of these encounters were the first demons who blighted the Earth. Likewise, the Zohar writes that the serpent copulated with Eve to produce Cain. Fascinatingly, the Zohar explicitly names the demon responsible for this atrocity. It is none other than the angel Samael, the same figure that Nahmanides identities with Azazel! The Zohar continues, "After the demons were born to Adam, he had daughters from these spirits who were similar in beauty to those on high and those below. Therefore it is written, "The 'sons of Elohim' saw that the daughters of men were fair" (7) and strayed after them. 

Amazingly, a parallel narrative is recorded in the Book of Enoch. This pseudepigraphical 2nd-century BCE work, of which Aramaic fragments have been found in Qumran, is of uncertain authorship. (8) However, the parallels between it and the Zohar are so astonishing that it is very difficult to imagine that the Kabbalistic tradition was not at least partially influenced by it. In the Enoch narrative, the sons of Elohim are identified as angels, who in their lust for human flesh, copulate with the daughters of men. Among them, Azazel is identified by name, and is condemned by the archangels in heaven for teaching men the art of war and corrupting them. In retribution, God orders the angel Raphael to "bind Azazel by hand and foot and cast him into the darkness." Furthermore, "rugged and sharp rocks" (a possible parallel to Hazal's etymology of the word) are thrown on top of him, and he is condemned to an eternal life in the desert and all desolate, dark places.  

The varying views in Jewish tradition regarding this mysterious figure are both exhilarating and unnerving. Exhilarating in their endless diversity and enigmatic impact, and unnerving in their irrationality and archaic tinge. In the end, we may never know what Scripture actually meant to say. All we can know for certain is that if history has taught us anything, new generations can have meaningful insights on these ancient subjects too. Just as the Rashbam was not afraid or embarrassed to argue with his grandfather Rashi, so too our Torah scholars must not be afraid to break the mold and enlighten the current generation on even the most perplexing biblical narratives.

(1) תלמוד בבלי יומא סז
(2) רשב"ם ויקרא טז דיבור המתחיל וכפר בעדו
(3) אבן אזרא ויקרא טז דיבור המתחיל גורלות
(4) רמב"ן ויקרא טז דיבור המתחיל וגורל אחד לעזאזל
(5) ספר הזוהר אחרי מות כב
(6) ספר הזוהר אחרי מות נט
(7) ספר הזוהר אחרי מות ס
(8) ספר החנוך י:א-ז

The Religious Personality

What makes you religious? 

Are you religious when you believe in God? 

Does keeping Shabbat make you religious? 

Or is it refraining from eating lobster out of fear of cosmic retribution that makes you religious? 

I have come to the conclusion that no performable action, or even any singular theological belief, can make one religious. Religiosity is an emotional state which defines ones personality. Religiosity may lead to adopting an observant lifestyle, especially within a Jewish context, but it is not a prerequisite. Human beings are full of both internal and external contradictions. These contradictions are what define us. I am who I am today because of them.

Indeed, there is a growing consciousness among some in the Modern Orthodox community that embrace the disconnect between religiosity and observance as a positive thing. For these Orthoprax Jews, not being religious does not hinder them for being a part of the Orthodox community and from observing the minutiae of Halakhah. Of course, that is just an extreme case of what I am talking about. However, I am willing to wager that many of us know people who are only observant because of either how they were raised, or because they're just used to it by now. It's not genuine religiosity that motivates their actions, it's simply habitual. Unfortunately, this is a more widespread phenomenon than we would like to admit. But this is not what I wish to discuss now.

If one could brainstorm a personality that represents the antithesis of the religious personality, what would it be? The scientific personality, perhaps? The relationship between the religious and scientific personalities is exactly what I would like to analyze.

First, let us define our terminology. For my intents and purposes, I shall define a religious personality as one whom, in the face of the absence of empirical evidence for the existence of anything metaphysical or beyond our Universe, assumes as axiomatic that our existence is a grand mystery. The religious personality is never existentially satisfied by empirical knowledge, no matter how intriguing or correct our observations may be, because strictly empirical statements do not bring us any closer to understanding the why of our being. 

The scientific personality, on the other hand, is widely perceived as the exact opposite. For him, only empirical statements are meaningful. The philosophical embodiment of this approach to epistemology was championed by the grand British empiricist David Hume. However, as I shall endeavor to explain, I believe that the proper perspective is a bit more complicated. 

Before I continue, I invite you to join me in a thought experiment. First sit still and ponder your surroundings. Then, imagine your senses beginning to fail. First, your eyesight goes. Everything is black now. Then, your hearing goes, and now it's dark and silent. Next, you lose the ability to feel anything and everything at all. You have no way of knowing where you are in space, or anything about your surroundings. We presume to know so much about our own existence, but the denial of our senses takes everything away from us. Reality as we know it ceases to be meaningful in a context without sensory input. We are creatures of experience. 

This is the brilliant realization that the empiricists came to. This is why science is said to be methodologically empirical. Without question, solidly grounded empirical statements about the Universe constitute the most true knowledge a human being can ever have hope of learning. But philosophers have realized that our reliance on our experience for empirical science is also a double edged sword. 

Imagine now a gigantic concert hall with thousands of people in the arena watching the symphony play. Intuitively, we would all agree that something objective is going on in the concert hall on this evening, and that it generally relates to the playing of music. However, does this mean that my experience of this concert (which has objectively occurred, in some sense) will be equivalent to your experience of the very same concert? Indeed, we know that it won't be. The very same senses that let us garner experiential (read: empirical) knowledge of the world are the very same which communicate the sensory input subjectively interpreted by our minds. 

Philosophers of science are well aware of the subjectivity of human experience and therefore, when defining what constitutes science, factor this in. Therefore, philosophers of science, such as Karl Popper and others, understand that the central problem in defining science is determining what differentiates science from non-science. For Popper, this means the potential falsifiability of any given premise. For others, it means potential falsifiability and perhaps verifiability as well. Either way, my point is that even scientific statements, while striving to be absolutely empirical, are forced to take into account the subjectivity of the human experience. One could argue that uncertainty is the defining axiom of the human being. 

With all of this in mind, I believe we can now see the commonalities shared between the religious and scientific personalities. Both have faith in the objectivity of the Universe. The religious person is concerned with the metaphysical implications of existence (the whys) while the scientific person is concerned with the physical implications of existence (the hows). Both assume as axiomatic that the Truth is out there, but both also admit that the subjective human experience makes it impossible to know that Truth wholly. 

I believe this is exactly what Einstein meant when he wrote the following beautiful paragraph: 

"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed. It was the experience of mystery -- even if mixed with fear -- that engendered religion. A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, our perceptions of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which only in their most primitive forms are accessible to our minds: it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute true religiosity. In this sense, and only this sense, I am a deeply religious man... I am satisfied with the mystery of life's eternity and with a knowledge, a sense, of the marvelous structure of existence -- as well as the humble attempt to understand even a tiny portion of the Reason that manifests itself in nature."

Now that's a statement of true genius. 

Parshat Miketz

"... Pharoah dreamed and behold..." -Genesis 41:1

Dreams are truly fascinating, aren't they? The scientific study of dreams is known as oneirology, and it is, has been, and shall remain for the foreseeable future, an area of much contentious research. As much as we know about how the brain and dreams function, there remain many more questions than there are answers. I am not a neuroscientist so speculating on how the brain functions on a physical level is pointless for me. I want to focus on the theological implications of this phenomenon that we all know so very well. In order to conceptualize this, I first need to talk about a blockbuster.  

Only a few short months ago, a film by Christopher Nolan called Inception was released to nearly universal acclaim. 

Essentially, the film deals with the idea of implanting (or incepting) an idea into a person's mind. This is done in order to make the individual in whom the idea is being incepted believe that the idea is original (and not from a third party). The protagonists in the film attempt this endeavor in order to incept the idea in a certain wealthy businessman's mind to break up his inherited corporate empire. I believe the concept of inception is critical to understanding how two very important theological concepts operate in our own world. 

"... The dream of Pharaoh is one; what God is about to do He hath declared unto Pharaoh ..." Bereshit 41:28

To examine these concepts, I shall first explain the Rambam's position on the nature of prophecy and divine providence. In short, the Rambam held, with the exception of Moshe, that all prophetic revelation is given to the prophet through a dream. And it is on this note that our parsha begins: Pharaoh is given a dream by God.

Similarly, the Rambam's perspective on divine providence can be illustrated by the following parable: God exists outside of time as we know it, and therefore He knows the future (from our linear perspective) and all scenarios that could possibly occur as a result of our actions. Consider a hypothetical individual who has merited divine providence. He is planning on taking a voyage on the high seas, but God knows that all possible future scenarios for that particular seafaring vessel end in its destruction and sinking. In order to save our meritorious hero, God incepts within his mind the idea not to travel on that particular day, and when he chooses not to travel, he is thereby saved from death. 

To summarize the two concepts I am exploring, God both communicates prophetic revelation through dreams and protects the righteous by incepting thoughts they believe to be their own into their minds. According to the Rambam, God doesn't mess with the natural order of the world anymore than He absolutely must. 

You may be thinking, "If God incepts the thought into the mind of the righteous man to not travel on that particular day, doesn't that nullify the individual's free will to choose?" It's a great question but it is one that must be understood subtly. 

Our minds process events in such abstract ways that it is practically impossible to pinpoint exactly what external cues in conjunction with our subconscious, instinctual, and cognitive biases lead to our seemingly original thoughts. 

So I pose the two following rhetorical questions: did Robert Fischer Jr., the mark in the film, lose his free will after the idea was successfully incepted in his mind? To address this, I will attempt to answer an even more important question, namely, did Pharaoh lose his free will when God gave him the dream which in turn directly led to Yosef's redemption from prison? 

"... Then Pharaoh sent and called Yosef, and they brought him hastily out of the dungeon ..." Bereshit 41:15

My answer is no, and I will also do my best to show why by holding that such an incepted thought (from either God or wacky dream travelers) impedes human free will, you are actually logically forced to conclude the opposite. Let me explain.

Every knowledgeable religious Jew believes that God has a plan for the universe, and that the world will eventually be ushered into what is known as the Messianic Era. In Hegelian terms, this concept is known as an historical inevitability. And in Judaism, it is an important concept. Rambam brings the belief in the Messianic Era down as a fundamental tenet of the Jewish faith. 

According to the Bais HaLevi, at first glance, we perceive Pharaoh's dream as the cause of Yosef's redemption from prison. However, when we remove ourselves from the simplistic linear shackles of the narrative and factor in the concept of divine providence as the true guiding force behind Jewish history, we can view Pharaoh's dream as actually the effect of Yosef's inevitable departure from prison. This was, as we all would agree, necessary in order to further the historical narrative of the Jewish people in the land of Egypt. 

"And it came to pass in the morning that his spirit was troubled; and he sent and called for all the magicians of Egypt, and all the wise men thereof; and Pharaoh told them his dream; but there was none that could interpret them unto Pharaoh." Bereshit 41:8

God did not nullify Pharaoh's free will by giving him the dream. Pharaoh himself sought out interpretations among the pagan magicians of Egypt, but none offered him an explanation to his liking. He is the one, at every single junction in the narrative, who made decision after decision by utilizing his own free will to choose. 

By holding that God nullified Pharaoh's free will, you are assuming that after God gave him the dream, that He then forced him to seek out an interpretation, rather than Pharaoh choosing to do that himself. It sets a dangerous precedent to state that incepted thoughts nullify a person's free will. You'd then be forced to state that any original thought that ever pops into our minds invariably nullifies our free will, because our thoughts are always the result of external cues and cognitive biases that we have no conscious part in constructing. Since we can all agree that we think original thoughts on a constant basis, all of humanity would, according to that reasoning, be perpetually enslaved to the whims of neural synapses! I feel that this position is simply untenable. We have the power to choose whether or not to follow our gut feelings and impulses. 

If you're feeling a bit lost at this point, I apologize. Let me recap what I've said so far.

a. God has a plan for the world, and this includes a plan for the Jewish nation. Yosef needed divine intervention in order to be redeemed from prison. This historical necessity was what caused God to intervene and give Pharaoh the dream. This is an example of non-linear causality. 

b. From our vantage point, God giving Pharaoh the dream is what led to Yosef being redeemed. This is why it is presented in such a way in the narrative. Human beings, for all practical purposes, perceive time as linear, but this is not a complete picture of reality. 

c. Pharaoh's dream did not nullify his free will. By holding that incepted thoughts from a third party nullify free will, I believe that you are forced to conclude the same about any thought that pops into ones mind. It is impossible to distinguish between a divine, and therefore perfectly incepted thought, and a seemingly original thought.

While my arguments in favor of maintaining free will in light of incepted thoughts may not be perfect, I am nevertheless confident of one thing, which is that God has a plan for the universe. What makes it so difficult for us to comprehend this is that His plan has been specifically crafted in such a way that goes counter to human intuition. When we factor in the concept of non-linear causality and apply it to God's hand in the universe, this apparent paradox becomes much easier to conceptualize.

All of Jewish history, all of human history, and indeed all of cosmic evolutionary history follows this seemingly paradoxical pattern. And it is through understanding this principle that I believe that a theology relevant to the modern man must be established. This is the foundation of a rational religious framework that can move us closer toward understanding both the physical, and the metaphysical, aspects of our universe. 

Challenges

I feel as though whenever I reconcile one problem I have with religious philosophy and Judaism in particular, a whole slew of other issues somehow find their way to the forefront of my mind, thereby invalidating any progress I have made in my journey toward understanding my purpose in the universe.

The latest challenge to my faith is courtesy some groundbreaking new research in astrophysics which is cited here http://arxiv.org/abs/1008.3907. 

In short, if the research is eventually confirmed, it will prove that alpha, otherwise known as the fine-structure constant, is not a fundamental constant throughout our universe. 

I have tried to explain why this presents such a difficulty for religious believers to my friends and colleagues. However, no one can quite grasp why this presents such a terrible blow to creation. In short, if the fundamental constants are variable throughout space, and thereby certainly over time, it is proof positive that even the most basic physical laws which govern our universe were not the result of fine tuning by a creator, but rather the result of as of yet unknown natural processes.

UPDATE

Upon much reflection upon these and other scientific findings (such as the theological implications of evolution), I have reached the following conclusions:

1) No matter how complete our understanding of the laws of the universe becomes, we simply shift the philosophical discussion up a meta-level. For example, suppose it is definitely proven that our universe is simply one in an innumerable vacuum of parallel universes and the fact that the laws of physics exist in such a way in our region of our universe that is conducive to the development of life is due to mere mathematical probability. Even if this was proven, it would still beg the question of why the multiverse exists and why the meta-laws that lead to the development of all physical laws exist in the first place and can produce a universe that is undeniably ordered. Philosophy (and derivatively, religious philosophy) is still valuable. We cannot allow our ever-evolving knowledge of the universe to cloud our judgement and lead us to arrogant, absolutist statements that are inherently unfalsifiable.

2) It is simply a restatement of the "paradox" of free will and divine providence on the cosmic scale. Consider this: the meta-laws that shape our universe through what are ultimately unguided processes is just a scientific assessment of the universe's "free will" in contradistinction to God's divine providence. I will devote future posts to the extrapolation of this idea, but this is just a basic summation of the issue.

3) Morality. Some biologists/psychologists (and militant atheists) like Richard Dawkins believe that human morality is simply (and only) a series of complex neural impulses that evolved over time in order to preserve society through our development as a species. I am not doubting that much of these conclusions provide reasonable explanations for the historical development of morality, but it leads one to concluding that the ends of human morality is societal pragmatism. (I don't kill you so you don't kill me.) The insight of Judaism is that morality (the concept of the ultimate good) is an ideal unto itself. Much of humanistic culture has attached itself to the concept of an ideal morality, but they unconsciously skim over the fact that this idea is rooted in religious philosophy. 

Purpose and Paradox

I'd like to briefly explain why I named this blog "Purpose and Paradox".

The first word, Purpose, was chosen simply because I believe that Judaism gives objective meaning to existence and that without it, humanity is left to rationalize their own purpose and meaning, including coming to the conclusion that life has neither. And yes, I realize that one could argue that Judaism is man made and therefore the meaning it ascribes to existence is likewise an artificial construct, but that is an absolutist position that I am not totally comfortable with, as I shall discuss later on in further posts. I also believe that many non-Jewish philosophers throughout the ages have tapped into existential truth as well, albeit through their own human intellect and reasoning alone. Judaism as a revealed religion is unique because the Prophets, when recording their prophecies, synthesized both their own superior human intellect and the divine perfect intellect to produce texts of remarkable depth and magnitude containing truths that transcend the confines of historical relevancy.

The second word, Paradox, was chosen because I believe that the only way for the ultimately limited human intellect to perceive grandiose all-compassing truth is through parables shrouded in what we perceive as paradox. I am defining paradox to mean two premises that contradict each other given the information available at the moment, but upon further reflection, from a greater vantage point beyond, actually don't. There are well known paradoxes in just about every field imaginable and sometimes, after a period of long reflection and study, many get resolved because of new information that was not previously known and considered. Whereas some individuals read biblical narratives as completely literal accounts and find fault with the numerous contradictions such a reading brings forth, I see the narratives as substantially more flexible and derive truths from the paradoxes found therein.

Goals

I'm not a big fan of the whole blogging phenomena that has swept the internet over the past few years. However, I have decided to give into my narcissistic tendencies and finally create one regardless of whether or not my thoughts generate a readership or not. The fact is that I am simply a person with a lot of weird ideas when it comes to just about any subject, be it politics, film, or religion, and I have finally come to peace with the fact that there are so few people out there willing to hear me out on them. So now I have decided to turn to the internet, which in some respects fills my emotional need of being heard because I suppose it is theoretically possible that someone out there is reading this and that makes me feel pretty good in a pathetic sort of way.

So the purpose of this blog is, in short, to give me a place for me to write down my own ideas about life. I will also use this blog as an open forum to allow me to discuss and question traditional beliefs in Jewish thought and philosophy. I have a lot of questions and a lot of ideas on how to resolve many of my questions in light of modernity, but I am by no means an expert on the subject. I am merely a laymen who seeks to grasp a more complete understanding of life's purpose, which is by no means an easy or simple task.

Let me begin by giving a brief biography of myself. I am male, currently 21 years old, and I am from the United States. I am currently studying in an Israeli yeshiva and will be continuing to do so for the remainder of 2010. Upon my return to the States I will be attending university where I plan to major in computer science. I was not raised as an observant Jew or involved with a Jewish community growing up, I attended a public high school, and no, I was not convinced by Chabad or other kiruv organizations to embrace my Jewish heritage. Rather, my return to traditional Jewish observance was sparked by my interest in socialism in high school. I became familiar with the history of Labor Zionism and was specifically enthralled by the writings of Moses Hess. In time, I began that to truly appreciate my Jewish heritage and in doing so became ritually observant. As even more time went on I searched for answers to my questions on reconciling faith in Judaism with a scientifically grounded naturalistic worldview and I still have a lot of questions. I believe that about does it for my inaugural post, I shall return soon with more!