Does Orthodox commitment provide what is needed for good character? Not yet, I answer in this article.
Introduction
It was the practice of Rabbi Yisrael Salanter to post at his podium, in advance of his lecture, the Torah sources he would be discussing. This was in order to allow local scholars to delve into them and prepare difficult questions with which to challenge him. It once happened that two men tore down R Yisrael’s list and replaced it with their own. On ascending the podium and being handed the new list, R Yisrael was alarmed and turned pale. He stood silent for ten minutes but was eventually able to deliver a new lecture based on the list of sources composed by the jesters.
Many years later, R Yisrael commented to Rabbi Naphtali Amsterdam that he had not in fact needed that time to prepare a new lecture. Rather, the 10 minutes of silence were spent struggling as to whether he should hide his greatness by stepping down from the podium or to give the class and thereby fulfil his original intentions of teaching Torah. Whilst this story is remarkable as an instantiation of rigorous moral character, it is particularly significant in that R Yisrael exhibited a clear conceptual understanding of the trait of anavah (humility). He clearly understood the imperative to balance recoil from unnecessary disclosure of talent with the public display of that very talent when it serves a positive purpose. Whilst no halakha dictates how one should behave in such a situation, R Yisrael was guided by (amongst other things) his cognitive understanding of anavah.
A second story: Rabbi Eliya Lopian used to arrive two hours early for his mussar shiur (Jewish ethics class) in order to have time to prepare. He was once delayed by quarter of an hour and cancelled the class on the basis that he had insufficient time for preparation. He clarified to his incredulous students that he could certainly collate the material but, in the limited time, he would not be able to internalize the ideas that he would be teaching. Whilst the first story exemplifies the cognitive dimension of ethical life, the story of R Lopian typifies the affective sphere. Conceptual clarity was not enough. The principles needed to be internalized and experienced on an emotional plane.
We could list countless other examples of Torah personalities who exhibited outstanding ethical clarity and emotional sensitivity. Nevertheless, excellence in these spheres seems not to be a hallmark of contemporary Orthodox society. Identification with an Orthodox community and halakhic commitment do not necessarily engender a distinctive Torah understanding of the different character traits or of how to navigate between different competing concerns when dealing with ethical dilemmas. Indeed, it is significant that research published in The International Journal for the Psychology of Religion and elsewhere2 has indicated that religious Jews are less likely than Christians to regard the cognitive dimension of ethical life as important.
Similarly, typical participation in contemporary Orthodox life rarely includes meditation, contemplation, visualization or other such techniques toward internalizing ethical values.
In this article, I argue that commitment to specific halakhic requirements is too rarely complemented by a sensitivity to the cognitive and affective dimensions of ethical life. As long as this deficiency isn’t consciously and persistently addressed, Orthodox affiliation and commitment alone will not provide what is needed for good character.
Feeling and Thinking Ethically – Not Always a Matter of Halakha
A committed Jew who seeks to identify specific perspectives and attitudes conducive to ethics and spirituality will rarely find the answer by simply referring to the halakhic literature to see what is obligatory and what forbidden.
Many have argued with great cogency that Jewish ethical life requires much more than halakhic compliance. To invoke just one eminent source, Rabbi Menachem Meiri, in explaining Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah’s assertion that ‘if there is no derekh erets, there is no Torah’, explains that one does not completely fulfil one’s obligations with that which is specified explicitly in the Torah and halakha. The Meiri specifically mentions ‘developing good middot (characteristics)’ and ‘distancing oneself from bad middot’ as Jewish obligations which are not explicated in the Torah.
For example, whilst the gemara compares one who loses his temper to an idol worshipper, there is no verse in the Torah or ruling in the Shulchan Arukh that tells us what transgression such a person has committed. Similarly, the Rambam emphasises the imperative to do teshuvah for the characteristic of hatred. This means that even if one is not transgressing the Torah prohibition against hating ‘your brother in your heart’ (because your hatred is directed toward certain gentiles), one who is consumed by hatred is ethically deficient.3
Even more than this is affirmed in the Midrashic assertion (Vayikra Rabba 1) that ‘any Talmid Chacham who lacks da’at is worse than a putrid animal carcass’! Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner understood this as referring to a Torah scholar who ‘lacks da’at which can direct and guide him so that he will act with understanding towards others, and interact with them in a civil fashion.’
Quite aside from the caustic moral judgment, the acknowledgement that one can become exceedingly accomplished in Torah learning and still lack human sensitivity is striking. As Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein notes, in reflecting on R Hutner’s words, “’Da’at‘ does not necessarily accompany knowledge and analytical skill, and is not necessarily bound up with them…”4
Neither halakhic commitment nor even Torah scholarship is in any way sufficient for appropriate character development.
Exclusive Focus on Halakha Distracts from and Attenuates Moral Sensitivity
Not only is it insufficient but a certain kind of approach to Halakhic commitment can impede moral sensitivity.
An overwhelming and unbalanced focus on halakhic requirements and prohibitions in Orthodox life can have the insidious effect of decreasing regard for the importance of character development. If one is part of a society where discussions of normative behavior are all concerned with legal requirements, one can develop the misunderstanding that character development is of no great significance.
To be sure, halakhic commitment based on submission to Divine command is itself an important value in Jewish spiritual and ethical life. However, as I’ve argued elsewhere, it’s not the only value. Many sources emphasize the validity, indeed the preference, for much of our Jewish observance to be motivated by appreciation of the ethical wisdom of our mitzvot and by one’s personal moral and ethical sensitivity.
If something is only regarded as morally significant if and because it is stipulated in halakha, little space is given for the development of such ethical understanding or emotional resonance.
R Kook sees an example of such a danger in his claim that love of people must be motivated by compassion rather than halakhic compliance:
The love of people must break out from the source of compassion; it must come to us not as a prescribed stature. Otherwise it will lose its most luminous element. It must come as a spontaneous movement of an inner soul force.<sup>5
A love for humanity that is totally predicated on adherence to halakha is not the genuine article. Much the same can be said of other areas of ethical life. Behavior which is only motivated by halakhic obligation is not representative of virtuous character.
More is Required
Character development seldom happens automatically. In reflecting on the teaching in the Yerushalmi that one is born with the yetzer hara whilst one’s yetzer tov only takes effect from Bar Mitzvah, R Lichtenstein explains:
From birth, the evil impulse fills man with egotism, aggressive-ness and selfishness. In contrast, the good impulse is inculcated through a process of socialization and education, always struggling to catch up to the evil impulse, which has a thirteen-year head-start.<sup>6
In addition to halakhic knowledge, this socialization and education must involve introspection, a mature understanding of ethical values, tools for bridging the gap between our behavior and our ideals and methods of internalizing the values that our minds already understand.
To be sure, there are teachers and organizations that do aim for this goal and I have taken the time to list some of them. But if socialization is needed to facilitate greatness of character, then the prioritization of these goals must be typical of the society and not just the niche of certain educators. If training is needed to contain and process the drive for egotism, aggressiveness and selfishness then we want to see such training as part of mainstream Orthodox education.
Jonathan Rosenblum has written of the way in which these concerns are often peripheralized in Orthodox schools. He notes that middot development tends to get ‘pushed to the bottom of a crowded curriculum’ and that ‘developing good middos is treated as something primarily of concern to young children.’7
Until that problem is tackled comprehensively and systematically, the answer to the question ‘does Orthodox commitment provide what is needed for good character’ will always be: ‘Not yet’.
- Even Shelemah, 1:11
- Cohen, A. B., & Rozin, P. (2001). Religion and the morality of mentality. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 697–710.
- This paragraph is based on Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, By His Light, p.204
- R Hutner’s comment and R Lichtenstein’s reflections are recorded in Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, If There Is No “Da’at,” How Can We Have Leadership?
- Orot Ha-Kodesh 3:318. The translation is from Abraham Isaac Kook – The Lights of Penitence, The Moral Principles, Lights of Holiness, Essays, letters and Poems, trans. Ben Zion Bokser
- Is Anything New Under the Sun: Reflections on the First Anniversary of the Attack on the Twin Towers
- Jonathan Rosenblum, “Dr. Middos is Not Just for Kids,” http://www.cross-currents.com/archives/2011/08/03/dr-middos-is-not-just-for-kids/