The deeper one investigates the inner spaces
of personality, the more one’s ambivalence intensifies:
I need to have
confidence in God
–
and –
I need to put every effort into attaining my desired
goals.
I need to believe that all is Divinely decreed in heaven
–
and –
I need to believe that everything hinges on my own free
choice.
I have an immediate existence
–
and –
I have an ultimate destiny.
I have a fleeting present moment
–
and –
I have an eternal future.
I see things as they are
–
and –
I see things as I wish they were.
Thinking something – and – thinking about
something… Which is truer? The feeling of happiness or of sorrow? Within
the reality of emotions, feeling exists in the tension created by a
combination of these two.
We might attempt to define a difference between shvua, an oath and neder,
a vow. Nedarim apply in mitsva-related areas, unlike a shvua, in which one
prohibits oneself, as opposed to a prohibition about something else in
relation to oneself. One can make an oath, a shvua, that ‘I will not sit
in the succa’, but since one has been sworn into the oath at Sinai of
fulfilling the mitsvot – ain shvua hala al shvua, one oath cannot undo
another, and therefore one cannot exempt one’s own person from one’s
personal obligation. “It is valid and binding; one cannot swear to
transgress the commandments.” See above in that same section: (Torah
Temima, Matot, Ch. 30, sect. 17) “For with nedarim one is making a
prohibition about an object in relation to oneself, so it is not similar
to one who vows that he will cancel a commandment. For after all, he has
accepted nothing upon himself. It is only the object in relation to
himself that he has prohibited, and if he were to nevertheless fulfill
that mitsva, it would only be called mitsva haba’a be’aveira, a mitsva
that comes with a transgression. Which is not the case with an oath, in
which he prohibits himself from relating to a particular thing.” See also
Ramban who distinguishes between nedarim and shevuot – in which the nodair,
the one who vows, is vowing by the life of the king, whereas the nishba is
swearing by the king himself.
This may be the difference between thinking something and ‘thinking about’
something. An oath is connecting with the thing itself – ‘thinking it’. A
vow is thinking about it. Thinking about the thing from outside; objective
thinking.
Judaism’s focus of interest is on the ambivalence inherent in existence.
This explains the misleading impression that Judaism merely takes the
pragmatic approach, and is supposedly devoid of spiritual principles and
ideals. Halacha deals with the track that runs between two opposite,
complementary extremes, and it has no interest in one extreme as opposed
to the other.
“Is learning great or is action great?” The Gemara investigates this
question, and arrives at the conclusion that – learning is great because
it brings about action.”
One must not imagine that this investigation by the Gemara is an inquiry
as to whether the means are preferable to the ends or vice versa. Rather,
the goal – the ends – is the main thing, and each case is different, and
depending upon the particular situation; it can sometimes happen that the
means is the end, or perhaps a part of the final goal...
The Torah deals with the point where theory encounters practice, where
sorrow encounters happiness. Rabi Akiva laughed and wept when he saw a fox
crawling out of the ruins of the Holy of Holies. He wept in the presence
of the destruction, and laughed that the verse had been fulfilled, that
“foxes would walk therein”, since that meant that the verse telling of the
future redemption would be fulfilled as well.
“A time for every purpose.” Each thing has its moment; each thing has its
time. The situation itself is not what is ambivalent. Every situation
sanctifies the place that it occupies.
What the Jewish approach demands is the experience created by the pendulum
swing between the two opposite extremes. Between self-preservation and
creativity. Between being inside an experience, ahava, and thinking about
an experience from the outside – yira. Between thinking and ‘thinking
about’. Between knowing and ‘knowing about’. “And Adam knew Hava, his
wife” versus understanding the distinction between good and evil by
thinking about good and evil… The difference between “Who has sanctified
us with His commandments and commanded us regarding…” and “Who has
sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to…”
Hava, who caused the separation between knowing and ‘knowing about’, by
causing Adam to eat from the Tree of Knowledge About Good and Evil, is to
this day the embodiment of ambivalence. Therefore the relationship to
woman creates ambivalence between self and other. It is an encounter of
conflicting interests – between matter and spirit, principles and reality,
object and subject, with the crossroads of the encounter being the human
element formed of the encounter between male and female, in which is born
of relating out of belonging.
Ambivalence is thus found in the halachot that relate to human behavior:
“There is such a thing as a degenerate with the permission of the Torah.”
“And you shall be in awe of your Lord.” “Well within the line of the law”,
etc. The human element – its ambivalent movement toward truth – is the
reason that the need to save human life pushes the entire Torah aside. It
is why there is such severe stringency with regard to saving human life,
while there is no such excessive stringency with regard to the written
law. It is why “one must be more stringent with danger than with a
prohibition.”
It is why the Talmud shows such contempt for the one whose concern for
legalities overshadows his concern for his fellow human being. “With
purity of the vessels he is strict and with bloodshed he is lax.” It is
why the Torah she’be’al peh determines the direction of the Torah
she’bichtav; the one who determines the halacha must be a living wise man
– one who is himself living reality – rather than the written book.
It is why erroneous beliefs grow in the minds of many, who, rather than
moving toward truth by the incessantly ambivalent search for the golden
mean that lies somewhere between one extreme and the other, simply seize
hold of one extreme and ignore the other.
In Mendelssohn’s era, Judaism was perceived as a book of
technical-practical rules devoid of spirituality, devoid of sublime ideals
and principles. This was one side. The other side adopted all manners of
reform, which completely ignored halacha, the Torah’s practical
application. They understood Judaism to be a collection of principles and
theories that had no application to reality.
Indeed, these many and miscellaneous reform approaches are nothing but the
outcome of a perception of Judaism by Jews who, though devout, were
capable of ignoring life entirely, of imposing the written law upon lived
reality, with a complete lack of consideration for human needs and with a
complete lack of practical flexibility.
Ambivalence in Parashat Matot:
1. God tells Moshe: Take b’nei Yisrael’s revenge upon the Midianim. Moshe
tells b’nei Yisrael: Take God’s revenge upon the Midianim. God’s revenge
becomes b’nei Yisrael’s revenge, and vice versa.
“And Moshe grew angry” despite the joy of victory. Why did they include,
among the saved Midiani captives, those very women who had been
responsible for the deaths of so many of b’nei Yisrael?
The ambivalence of the two tribes, Gad and Reuven: Their (perhaps
excessive) concern for livestock seems to overshadow their concern for
their own families. They say “we shall build fences for our sheep and
houses for our children”, and Moshe responds, “you shall build houses for
your children and fences for your sheep.” From Moshe’s heated response,
and from the clear conditions he sets forth, requiring them to take a
fully equal (and perhaps more than equal) share in fighting for the Land,
we discern that there was ambivalence in their request – pure motives
mingled perhaps with other motives.
For the daughters of Tslofhad, Moshe knew no answer to give them, because
of the dual meaning represented by women.
In the next Parasha, Masei – “these are their travels, and what befell
them…” “And they traveled, and they camped.” Reality runs incessantly,
ever onward. It hates to be fixed, or pinned down. Yelchu maihayil el
hayil. “They shall go from prowess to ever greater prowess.” “Seven times
the tsadik falls – yet rises up.” The failure is not in the sin, but in
getting pinned down to the sin. Teshuva is the movement between sin and
mitsva.
A man’s relationship to a woman is his point of departure as well as his
hold on reality. From her, he acquires a meaningful understanding of his
existence, yet on the other hand, she compels him toward a practical
confrontation with his existence. Therefore one cannot understand the
relationship to woman without recourse to theory, yet on the other hand,
one cannot understand it through theoretical formulation alone. A man’s
ambivalence moves along the axis of theory. A woman’s ambivalence moves
along the axis of lived reality. When the two are joined, an ambivalent
harmony is created.