Bar-Ilan University's Parashat Hashavua Study Center
Parashat Shoftim 5763/ August 30, 2003
Lectures on the weekly Torah reading by the faculty
of Bar-Ilan University in Ramat Gan, Israel.
A project of the Faculty of Jewish Studies,
Paul and Helene Shulman Basic Jewish Studies Center,
and the Office of the Campus Rabbi. Published on the Internet
under the sponsorship of Bar-Ilan University's
International Center for Jewish Identity.
Prepared for Internet
Publication by the Computer Center Staff at Bar-Ilan University.
Inquiries and comments to:
Dr. Isaac Gottlieb, Department of Bible,
gottlii@mail.biu.ac.il
Prof. Dov Schwartz
Department of Philosophy
An Aesthetic Experience or Idolatry?
Much of Parashat Shofetim is devoted to laws prohibiting
idolatry and witchcraft, closely related to idolatry. In the ancient world
rites such as sacrificial offerings were used for magical utilitarian ends (such
as foretelling the future), and conversely, acts of magic were used for
religious ritual (as in appeasing the gods by witchcraft). Even though the
prohibition against such acts in Judaism is unequivocal, the attitude towards
them is mixed. The verse, "You shall not ... erect a stone pillar
(matzevah); for such the Lord your G-d detests" (Deut. 16:22) was
interpreted by Rashi, following Sifre, as follows: "He commanded
that an altar of stones and an altar of earth be made; and this He detests, for
it was the practice of the Canaanites; and even though He liked it in the days
of the patriarchs, now it is hateful to Him, since idolaters took over the
practice."
The word
matzevah in Scriptures refers to a stone
which, in the Biblical period, served various purposes. According to the
midrash and various commentators, the proscription against erecting a
matzevah only applied in the context of offering sacrifices (Rashi,
loc. sit., "even for sacrificing to Heaven on it"). Over the
years the attitude towards giving offerings on a
matzevah changed. In
the time of the patriarchs, the Lord viewed the
matzevah with favor, but
since it came to be used by idolaters, the favor turned to disfavor. This
change is clearly expressed in the words of a 14
th-century Spanish
Jewish philosopher:
[1]
Even though matzevot were well-liked [by G-d] in the
time of the patriarchs, since they were used to direct worship to the Lord,
later He commanded that they be destroyed, because they became directed only to
evil, to the foreign gods worshipped by the non-Jewish inhabitants of the
land.
According to many philosophers and exegetes, the
matzevah is illustrative of idolatrous practices which are not
intrinsically to be ruled out, but since ancient peoples adopted them in their
worship of pagan gods, they became forbidden. When the Torah was given, all
acts of idolatry were forbidden, such as erecting matzevot and offering
sacrifices on high places (bamot). From that point on, only a well-known
and famous prophet could employ these means as a temporary measure, as Elijah
did on Mount Carmel.
In this week's parasha we read, "Those
nations that you are about to dispossess do indeed resort to soothsayers and
augurs; to you, however, the Lord our G-d has not assigned the like. The Lord
your G-d will raise up for you a prophet from among our own people, like myself;
him you shall heed" (Deut. 18:14-15). In other words, magic served
utilitarian ends such as foretelling the future or giving advice; since the
prophet is the one who answers these needs for Israel, the use of magic was
forbidden. Once more, the message conveyed by the plain sense of the text seems
to be that prior to the establishment of prophecy through the Theophany at Mount
Sinai magical means had been considered legitimate. Jacob and Moses, after all,
employed such means (the troughs for the flocks, Moses' staff and the
like). However, from the moment the Lord empowered the prophets with authority,
using other means henceforth became forbidden; the prophet was the one who gave
counsel, foretold the future and performed miracles.
In the Middle Ages, with the systematization of Jewish
philosophy, the role of the prophet in general, and of his relationship to magic
in particular, came up for discussion. Here we present one illustration of the
complexity of the issue concerning the truth of prophecy: Rabbi Saadiah Gaon
exalted the prophet and extolled the truth of his prophecy. His rationale was
straightforward: since Nature was created by G-d, only He can alter it; hence a
person who is shown to have the power to work miracles thereby attests that he
has been sent by G-d (Emunot ve-De'ot, third article). Following
his lead was R. Judah Halevi, who claimed that only through alteration of the
natural order of things is Revelation proven true (The Kuzari 1.8).
Maimonides vehemently opposed this approach. In the
introduction to his commentary on the Mishnah he firmly asserted that prophets
do not work miracles as proof of the truth of their prophecy. Maimonides'
position is deeply rooted in his perception of Nature, but his argument is too
lengthy to present here. At any rate, there is some connection between prophecy
and the magical in the first view, while Maimonides denied any such
link.
It follows from what we have said above that the attitude in
Judaism draws distinctions by which certain acts of idolatry are not
intrinsically improper, but are declared improper as a direct consequence of
their association with idolatry. This issue has implications for several
questions of halakhah. For example, is aesthetic enjoyment of acts of
non-Jewish worship permissible, when they are severed from the religious
context, such as listening to church music or appreciating church architecture?
Taking a religious work created for the Church and removing it from its ritual
setting, presenting it as an aesthetic experience - such as playing church
music in a concert-hall setting - is a relatively recent development,
which most posekim are inclined to disallow. Sometimes, in individual
rulings, rabbis show more openness. There is an ultra-Orthodox rabbi who is
known to have permitted privately listening to church music on the grounds that
the enjoyment results from the combination of words and music and not content
and the music. Nevertheless, there seems not to have been any new halakhic
tidings that make it possible to isolate the aesthetic work from its religious
context. Ought the place of current ideological considerations in halakhic
rulings be reexamined? The answers lie with the halakhic authorities of the
future.
[1] Rabbi Solomon
Al-Constantine,
Megaleh Amukot, printed in D. Schwarz,
Yashan
be-Kankan Hadash, Jerusalem 1997, p. 281.