In this article, Rabbi Knopf asks whether Jewish commitment, when approached in the wrong way, can actually have a negative impact on our character.

Introduction

[T]he closer one lives to the religious core of Judaism, the further one is likely to be from the Jewish values so many of us cherish most. (Alan Dershowitz, The Vanishing American Jew, p.55)

On reading this passage by an esteemed author, amidst a stimulating and insightful book, many of us would respond defensively. We may well identify as a non-sequitur Professor Dershowitz’s claim, elsewhere in the same book (p.350), that Chabad support for prayer in public schools and the Ultra-Orthodox opposition to abortion indicate their lack of compassion for the ‘non-Jewish downtrodden’!

We might also hasten to draw attention to research indicating quite to the contrary: that those with a strong commitment to Judaism tend to value positive social relationships and social harmony; that the more religious British Jews are, the more money they tend to give to charity and the more generous they tend to be relative to their means ; and that Orthodox Jews make up over 15% of living altruistic kidney donors in the US.

Others, resisting the defensive impulse, would acknowledge that Dershowitz’s assertion, whilst exaggerated, perhaps a distortion, nonetheless contains an element of truth. Scandals, recent and otherwise, have provoked much concern on this issue and, whilst one can question how widespread is illegal and unethical conduct, it’s clear that there is a problem to be addressed.

In this article, I adopt a different track, taking as my point of departure not the research papers or news items, but the words of Hazal. The potential negative impact of Torah is recognised by Rabbi Chananel bar Papa (Shabbat 88b) who asserts that ‘the words of the Torah [have the potential for] life and death’. Similarly, Rava maintains that, whilst the Torah can be a medicine for life, it is also potentially an elixir of death (sam hamavet).

These claims cry out for elucidation. Given the Biblical injunction to do that which is right and good and the frequent association of religious commitment with moral goodness, these statements are as surprising as they are disconcerting!
How can we possibly accept that the Torah is given to show us the path to the best possible life and maintain that it might attenuate our moral sensitivity? If the former is true, how can the latter be?

A remarkable perspective is advanced by the Vilna Gaon, as quoted in Even Shelemah (1:11). Drawing on the Rabbinic comparison of the Torah-soul relationship with that of the rain and earth, the Gaon explains that Torah causes the growth of whatever is in a person’s heart. Rain can cause the growth of beautiful plants or the growth of unwanted weeds. It all depends on what the rain is falling on. Correspondingly, a person’s Torah can lead to an increase in greatness or to a worsening of character. It all depends on the character of the one who is learning.

To be clear, the claim here is not simply that religious Jews can behave badly despite their Torah commitment. Rather it is that, specifically through their devotion to Torah, those of flawed character can become worse people than they were previously.
Below, I explain by means of illustration, how Torah commitment can augment pre-existing negative character traits. I then consider other ways in which an engagement with Torah, when not appropriately balanced can detract from ethical refinement.

Torah and the Intensification of Negative Character Traits

(I) Arrogance

Take the example of an arrogant person who lives a life of Torah commitment. How might engagement in Torah strengthen that inappropriate middah?

In his censorious address in the aftermath of the Rabin assassination, Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein bemoaned the arrogance that is so often cultivated by dedication to ideals and higher principles:

The self-confidence that arises from commitment and devotion to a world of values and eternal truths … sometimes has led to frightening levels of self-certainty and ultimately to arrogance. This arrogance has sometimes led us to act without sufficient responsibility for other people, and at times even without responsibility to other values. “We are good, we have values, and they are worthless” – this attitude has seeped deeper and deeper into our consciousness….

R Lichtenstein describes a process whereby one who is committed to certain metaphysical beliefs and ethical values comes to look down upon those who do not subscribe to the same principles. Of course, there are many who are committed to Torah who exhibit exemplary love and respect to those from whom they differ. In the light of the perspective of the Vilna Gaon, we understand that a person who is self-critical and who looks for the good in others will, through Torah commitment, develop an even greater generosity of spirit. Conversely, one who inclines toward self-absorption or self-glorification will soon find every reason to disregard or denigrate those who fail to accept the Torah perspective to which one subscribes.

Arrogance is potentially intensified further when one achieves certain types of religious achievement. Given the status of Talmud Torah as a principal Judaic value, accomplishment in Torah learning is highly regarded in Orthodox communities. But for one who is not firmly anchored in middat ha’anavah, such achievement carries a danger. In his commentary to the passuk ‘yevarekhekha Hashem Veyishmerekha’, the Netziv explains that, after the Torah scholar receives the brakha of success in learning, he then needs the ‘shmira’ to prevent himself from developing ga’avah. With reference to the Vilna Gaon’s teaching, we can suggest that the character orientation with which one approaches one’s learning is critical. If one revels in public recognition, the achievement of great Torah learning is likely to amplify one’s middat haga’avah ¹.

Moreover, given the idealistic nature of religious dispute, there is a great propensity to lapse into arguments fueled by the desire for personal kavod, hidden under the veneer of a makhloket leshem shamayim. Rabbi Leib Gurwitz (Me’oray She’arim) explains the reference in Shabbat Maariv to Hashem’s spreading the shelter of peace upon Yerushalayim in terms of the latter’s status as a center for talmidei hakhamim. Such scholars need a blessing of peace because they ‘often get involved in disputes that, in their eyes, are leshem shamayim and their jealousy (kina) is, in their eyes, leshem shamayim.’ Lacking a humble orientation, the potential for egotistical concerns to provoke conflict is significant.

(II) Selfishness

A second example is a person for whom religious commitment is essentially self-serving. Whilst this might indeed by the case for the aforementioned seeker of accomplishment and recognition, Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe identifies a more insidious selfish motivation.

In a celebrated passage in his Alei Shur, R Wolbe discusses the phenomenon of ‘frumkeit’ which he describes as the instinct to have a relationship with Hashem. Whilst an important ingredient in avodat Hashem, frumkeit is an essentially selfish drive, the goal of which is to gain the spiritual satisfaction of connecting with the Creator. Unguided, the frumkeit instinct can lead to infractions in interpersonal conduct including lashon hara, humiliation of those in opposing ideological camps and makhloket. Everything is justified to preserve the spiritual high of religious connection. The goal is the feeling of spiritual relationship with Hashem. A person pursuing that goal may disregard the wellbeing of other members of his community and dismiss, even disparage others if he thinks that will serve his goal.

R Wolbe’s insight suggests another illustration of the Vilna Gaon’s thesis. A person who is excessively selfish is likely to become more so when pursuing religious connection for egotistic purposes.

The Balance of Values

Aside from the importance of good character as a prerequisite for Torah life, ethical refinement is also impaired by a failure to balance varied and conflicting Torah values.

Torah axiology presents a configuration of values. Some of these principles are congruent: accomplishing one of them raises the likelihood that another will be achieved. Other values conflict such that they are in tension with each other and there is a challenge in being faithful to both. Much of the struggle of ethical life consists of retaining a commitment to multiple values even when there is such tension, and of cultivating perspectives, attitude and behaviour which reflect that commitment.
Below, I identify three different examples of tension between different Torah principles. In each case, the fervent commitment to one principle has often led to the neglect or trivialisation of the other.

(i) Attitudes Towards Gentiles

Jewish law and philosophy assume a special kinship between Jews. Notwithstanding this principle, Jewish teaching also affirms the virtue of compassion toward any suffering human being (indeed toward any suffering creature)² and that it is important to behave toward all with kindness³ and justice⁴. Many sources further underscore the value of peaceful relationships with gentiles⁵, the inherent dignity of every human being⁶ and the scope and significance of gentile avodat Hashem⁷

Though all these ideas are part of our tradition, they are not always mutually reinforcing. The notion of a special responsibility to other Jews is not logically inconsistent with the universalist principles cited above. Nevertheless, the psychological and sociological impact of commitment to a special kinship with the Jewish People is often an attenuation of universalist sensibilities.⁸

If our anecdotal experience does not suffice to confirm this judgment, we can refer to a study revealing that simply asking Israeli settlers about their shul attendance stimulated their admiration for Baruch Goldstein! Interestingly, being asked about the frequency with which they prayed to God did not have the same effect. This may indicate that the basis of the prejudice is sociological rather than theological.

This accords with the more general findings of social psychologist Jonathan Haidt that religion, concurrent with binding us to those who are like us, divides us from those who are unlike us. Haidt writes that the bond of reciprocal altruism within our groups tends to blind us to the humanity of those who stand outside that bond.

It seems, therefore, that our cognizance of and commitment to Jewish fraternity can and, often does, weaken our sensitivity to other principles that are also part of our mesorah. Xenophobic attitudes and indifference to gentile suffering can be accounted for in terms of an otherwise admirable ahavat Yisrael when it is not integrated with universalist teachings and principles that are no less part of our tradition.

(ii) Bein Adam LeMakom vs. Bein Adam Lechavero

According to the gemara in Kiddushin 40a, one who attends to his relationship with Hashem but neglects his interpersonal duties is classified as a tzaddik she’eino tov. On this view, the mitzvot bein adam leMakom of such a person are recognized but his negligence in bein adam lechavero is clearly a personal failing.

Moreover, there are passages in Sefer Yeshayahu which refer to the mitzvot of an unscrupulous person being ‘thrown back in his face’, indicating that (in some circumstances) disregard of interpersonal ethics not only fails to complement mitzvot bein adam LeMakom but actually invalidates them.⁹

Without question, in an appropriately constituted Torah value system, reverence for God impels respect and care for humanity. Often, however, the pursuit of bein adam leMakom has the opposite effect. We have already discussed R Wolbe’s understanding of how a person’s ego-driven pursuit of spiritual gratification can lead to a disregard of mitzvot bein adam lechavero.

Aside from the process described by R Wolbe, there is the phenomenon described by Donniel Hartman as ‘God intoxication’, whereby one is so overawed by the greatness and beauty of God that one becomes indifferent to anything that is not God.

The Gemara in Yoma 23a presents an example of such a case in a story of a young Kohen stabbing to death another Kohen who was competing with him to perform the Temple service. Religious passion for the avoda led to the cardinal sin of murder! One might counter that the killer’s behavior, committed in the heat of the moment, might be better explained in terms of an excessive rage than a distorted value system. Even if this were true, such an explanation could not be offered to explain the behavior of those present (including the victim’s father) who, the gemara relates, were more concerned with extracting the knife before the boy died to prevent it becoming contaminated than they were with the act of murder!

When service of God is not tightly interweaved with a recognition of human dignity and the value of compassion, the results can be as far from the ratzon Hashem as one could imagine.

(iii) The Letter and Spirit of the Law

It goes without saying in this forum that Judaism requires observance of dinim. It is equally true, though frequently overlooked, that Jewish norms incorporate much more than such observance. Jews are charged, not only with following specific rules, but with cultivating certain character traits¹⁰. As far as behavior goes, the Ramban famously states that it is impossible for the Torah to explicate all normative regulations¹¹ and the failure to transcend the letter of the law is, on the view of Rabbi Yokhanan, the reason for the destruction of Jerusalem.¹²

Following the halakha can facilitate an appreciation for our broader spiritual and ethical responsibilities and ideals. Too frequently though, preoccupation with halakhic details distracts from and even undermines the consciousness of broader ethics and norms. To quote Rabbi Yehuda Amital:

Many of the fundamental values of the Torah which are based on the general commandments of “You shall be holy” and “You shall do what is upright in the eyes of God”, which were not given formal operative formulation… have lost their validity in the eyes of a public that regards itself as committed to Halakha.¹³

At best, this failure to integrate detailed halakhic observance with overarching normative principles results in a mediocre representation of a Torah lifestyle. At worst, it leads to unethical and illegal activities, justified by arguments (plausible or otherwise) for their technical acceptability.

In Hilkhot Teshuvah 7:3, Rambam writes that “you should not say that teshuvah applies only to those sins which entail action… [Rather, a person] also needs to probe which bad characteristics he has and to repent from them.”

Rav Lichtenstein (By His Light, p.218-219) observes that it is unusual for Rambam to dispute an imaginary adversary (“You ought not to say that teshuvah applies only to sins which entail action.”). He explains that, by focusing on specifically designated sins until this point in Hilkhot Teshuvah, Rambam has created a misconception that it is not necessary to repent for bad character traits. Hence, the Rambam refers to this misconception before negating it.

Much the same can be said of the impression that we have created in our Orthodox communities. By focusing so overwhelmingly on analysis and application of technical halakhic rules, we have created the impression that the broader ethical considerations are peripheral, even dispensable. The prominence of hard legal imperatives in Torah study and practice is eminently justified. What is harmful is the failure to balance this emphasis with attention to the overarching requirements and goals of a Torah life.

Toward A Solution

A proposed solution to this problem is beyond the scope of this article. It would, however, be remiss to conclude without giving an intimation of how this discussion might impact our educational philosophy and programming.

The foregoing discussion draws attention to the occasionally discussed but frequently neglected need for systematic middot education in the Orthodox community. Following the penetrating human analysis of the Gaon of Vilna, we understand that Talmud Torah and halakhic commitment alone do not suffice. Too often, arrogance, selfishness and other character flaws are augmented by Torah commitment in the ways we have described. The solution requires guidance and programming, grounded in Torah and bolstered by social science research, and applied in the home, school and synagogue community.

What has also emerged from the analysis is that moral education in the Torah community bears a significant hashkafic component. The way in which one regards gentiles will not only be affected by basic middot but also by the philosophical understanding with which one relates Jewish particularism to more universalist values.

Similarly, whilst avodat Hashem must not collapse into an amorphous ethical commitment, we must also resist a neat bifurcation between the spheres of bein adam leMakom and bein adam LeChavero. I am reminded of the research of Jean Decety who found that many Christian and Muslim children would be prepared to behave unethically after performing a positive religious act because they did not feel that the immoral behaviour was incompatible with religious teachings. I doubt that we are free from such error and it is a danger we need to be consciously avoid.

Finally, more is required than just lip service to the concept of lifnim mishurat hadin. Serious thought is required as to how Orthodox communities can foster intellectual understanding of the relationship between halakhic observance and Jewish ethics, how that should impact on spiritual experience and how it should affect our behavior and priorities. I contend that these considerations are paramount to the promotion of a Torah outlook and lifestyle that can be appropriately characterized as sam hahaim.

1.  See also the view in Pesachim 113b that there is hatred amongst the talmidei hakhamim of Bavel.
2. Beitza 32b; Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Avadim 9:4 and Hilkhot Melakhim 10:12; Rabbenu Yona, Commentary to Avot 2:3. See also Bava Metzia 32a-b
3. Sotah 14; Avot 3:10; Rabbenu Yona, Sefer HaYirah, dibur hamatchil ‘hashamer militzaer’
4. Rabbenu Bahya, Commentary to the Torah, Devarim 16:20
5. Avot 1:12; Rambam, Laws of Kings 10:12
6. Avot 1:12; Rambam, Hilkhot Sanhedrin 24:10; Sforno, Commentary to the Torah, Shemot 19:5
7. Sanhedrin 59a; Rambam, Hilkhot Melakhim 12:5 and Teshuvot Harambam, ed. Y. Blau, 148; Ramban, Commentary to the Torah, Bereshit 34:13
8. To be sure, Jewish tradition includes other ideas which are at tension with universalism, including halakhic views which discriminate against non-Jews and the notion of the ontological superiority of Jews over gentiles. My point here is that, even if these views were to be accepted, they must be balanced with the values mentioned in the previous paragraph.
9. See Yeshayahu 58:5-7 and 1:11-17, quoted in Rambam, Hilkhot Teshuvah 7:7.
10. Shabbat 113b; Rambam, Sefer HaMitzvot, Positive Mitzvah 8 and Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Deot 1:6; Responsa Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam, ed. A.H. Freimann (Jerusalem: Mekize Nirdamim, 1937), no.63, pp.65-8.) Sefer Haredim, Chapter 9, Mitzvah 18;
11. Commentary to the Torah, Devarim 6:18. Similarly, Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehudah Berlin, Ha-amek Davar to Shemot 19:6 and Rabbi Joseph Albo, Sefer Ha-Ikkarim 3:23
12. Bava Metzia 30b
13. R Yehuda Amital, Commitment and Complexity: Jewish Wisdom in an Age of Upheaval (Ktav, 2008), 48