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Note: This is a word-for-word transcript of an oral lecture and has not been edited to be read as a standalone text. Often the Rav’s tone, pauses, and vocal inflections impart meaning not discernable in the written version. The transcript is provided to accompany the audio lectures in order to help the listener catch every word.

Transcript: I don’t know; I’m a newcomer here, and I’d like to know, what is it? Is it a lecture or a seminar? I would like to understand it better, if you could explain it to me. Is it more of a symposium, a discussion, or is it a straight lecture? It depends upon you, ladies and gentlemen. I mean, it’s the same to me.

[audience member:] It’s a combination.

[The Rav:] It’s a combination. So let me perhaps make a compromise that I would lecture, but you have a right, and I would rather appreciate, if you would interrupt my lecture in case you have a question to ask. This is my policy. I have been a teacher for many, many years. My policy is that students interrupt me if they want to ask me questions. So I would appreciate if you should interrupt me if something is not clear, or you have a question, or if you disagree with me.

[audience member:] Rabbi, you have to speak a little louder.

[The Rav:] Yes? Oh, this is not a loudspeaker? I thought it was a loudspeaker. If you are…I mean there is no loudspeaker here?

[audience member:] Would it be easier for you to sit in the middle of the room?

[The Rav:] I believe it would be nicer…

[…] Philosophy of religion: Philosophy of religion at many levels – it means modern philosophy of religion, comparative philosophy of religion, medieval philosophers, Jewish and Christian, and so forth and so on. My training basically was not in the field of philosophy of religion but in philosophy of science – Kantian, neo-Kantian philosophy. So perhaps I have a strange approach to philosophy of religion, because my training was not a theological one or exclusively in the field of philosophy of religion or religious thought. However, since I have been, so to say, cast in or thrust in, using an expression by Heidegger, into a certain environment where philosophy of religion was considered important, so I started to, I tried to interpret, I mean, Jewish religious concepts in philosophical terms. To tell you that I know much about it, I would not be sincere.

Basically, I am very perplexed; I am perhaps as perplexed as anybody else, and more. And I don’t believe that Judaism as a philosophy, is a religion which has many answers like the Catholic philosophy. Judaism has many problems but very few answers, very few answers. And perhaps the more I lecture, the more perplexed you will be and the more I will confuse you instead of clearing up some problems in your mind. However, it is good if you can see a problem and to understand that the problem is insoluble, and actually, I mean, Maimonides says that to be perplexed does not mean to be confused. And whatever I will say, I am not laying claim to any theoretical or cognitive validity. I don’t know whether what I am going to say is true or not. It’s hard to say. We don’t have criteria by which objectively to judge our opinions about Judaism. We have no laboratory, we have no tests. The empirical approach we have, I mean, is just, I mean, I wouldn’t say is as developed as in the field of positive sciences.

All I will say to you is just my own subjective thoughts and feelings about Judaism. I have tried to interpret Judaism in modern terms, I mean, for the Jew in his encounter with the modern world; I have tried very hard. But it is only subjective experience and a subjective interpretation on my part. I am not out to convert anybody. I am not carrying the gospel of Judaism. I lack missionary zeal. Whatever I will do, take it as an act of confidence on my part, as confessing, or rather letting you share my own subjective experience, my own private experience. If you should find that my experience and – there is some commensurability between your feelings and my experience – my efforts will be rewarded. However, if you should find that my experience and your experiences are incommensurable incongruous, and you will disagree with me totally, I will not feel hurt. Because it is very hard, I mean, to find commensurability between private experiences of individuals. The trait of uniqueness actually weakens commensurability.

In general, whoever speaks about Judaism and makes an authoritative statement – I am not saying about Jewish law, but about Jewish philosophy – he is wrong. It is just a subjective interpretation. We have no authority to determine which philosophy is, so to say, the perennial Jewish philosophy, and which one is just a modern, transient interpretation of Judaism.

Now, I believe that the topic of our lectures would deal with man and the social institutions he created. But today I wouldn’t speak about man, I’ll just give an introduction as to the methodology of Judaism and how you can approach this problem. Judaism has a doctrine of man. Because if it has no doctrine of man, we could get up and go home. As a matter of fact, such a doctrine underlies every civilized religion – any civilized religion, not only Judaism. Christianity and Islam must have a doctrine of man. Since religion is concerned with the relationship, with the triple relationship of God, man, and the world – this is the basic relationship in any philosophy of religion – it must necessarily possess some knowledge, on the one hand, of God’s infinite will, which conveys to man the moral law and the means by which this moral law is to be realized, and, on the other hand, of man himself, the subject of the good religious conduct and the ethical norm.

Religion as a cognitive gesture

Now, let me add something. Cognition, or knowledge, is one of the main motifs which determine and shape the religious experience. The homo religiosus – I mean, it’s a technical term; it means the man of religious experience – is engaged in a cognitive gesture. He is basically a theoretical man, a homo theoreticus, or anthropos theoreticus. The intellectual urge is as potent in him as it is in the homo theoreticus. Curiosity prompts both, the homo religiosus and the homo theoreticus, to face the world and man in an inquisitive mood, inquiring about one another. I am saying that because many theories in the history of philosophy of religion have maintained that religion is not a cognitive gesture. It is either, as Schleiermacher wanted us to believe, an emotional gesture, and the main experience of the homo religiosus can be reduced to the feeling of absolute dependence, or, as Kant and the Neo-Kantian school maintained, the religious experience is an ethical one, a moral experience, the experience of the absolute imperative. So, Schleiermacher sentimentalized religion; Kant ethicized religion. Both of them have eliminated the intellectual urge of the homo religiosus. The homo religiosus doesn’t want to know, but he wants to act, that’s what Kant said. Schleiermacher said, the homo religiosus doesn’t want to know, nor does he want to act. He feels something. He is emotionally unique. However, intellectually, volitionally, ethically, morally, there is no uniqueness there, no singularity.

However, it’s impossible to maintain this attitude, particularly in modern religion. The religious experience has basic, central, intellectual or cognitive motifs. Like the homo theoreticus, whoever he is – a scientist, psychologist, philosopher – the religious person is a person who seeks knowledge. Of course, the objectives, and hence the methods of the homo religiosus and the homo theoreticus are different. They vary. The homo theoreticus studies a reality bounded in by finitude, that’s all. He doesn’t know of any other reality. Finitude and reality are identical to him, whose multifarious complexities are reduced, or can be reduced, to relational, formal, mathematical equations, and to a system of dynamic interdependencies, whose rationale, the rationale of reality –  and science must believe in the rationale of reality, because otherwise the scientist would never approach reality in a confident mood; there is a rationale in reality –  whose rationale manifests itself in expressibility and technological applicability. This is the approach on the part of the scientist to reality.

The homo religiosus explores Being at a different level. Not so much for the sake of discovering the here and now knowable, explainable and useful aspects. He is also interested in that. But his main interest centers on something else. He is not so much interested in the, so to say, knowledge of reality which is accessible to us, but he is more interested in transcending the charted lanes of an orderly and neatly arranged cosmos, or universe, and venturing into the unknown, into remote, empty distances, and boundless stretches, into a strange and puzzling and baffling world, which can neither be mathematized, nor interpreted in abstract constructs and concepts, whose total equation – because for the homo theoreticus the total equation of the universe is, it is knowable, because if the universe were not knowable, comprehensible, there would be actually a gesture of resignation on the part of the scientist or the homo theoreticus – the equation, the total equation of the homo religiosus says: existence is a paradoxical affair, a mysterium magnum, which inspires in man awe and tremor.

Of course, ladies and gentlemen, in order to arrive at such an absurd equation, or if I may use Kierkegaard’s expression, to perform the movement of resignation, which is basic for the homo religiosus – the homo religiosus must resign from time to time –  in order to perform the act or the movement of complete resignation, the homo religiosus must explore every nook and corner of reality, examine, search every aspect of being, and try to interpret even the minutest process of reality. Because the act of resignation on the part of the homo religiosus is not to be equated with the naivete of the uninitiated, ignorant person, who denies the worth of knowledge because he doesn’t know anything – not to be equated. Whoever the homo religiosus is, he must not be an ignorant person, nor must he be and arrogant person. Ignorance and arrogance are certain traits which are completely, I mean, are strange to the religious experience, incommensurate with the religious awareness. I mean, this skepticism which flows from an arrogant attitude is alien to the homo religiosus. The act of resignation on the part of the homo religiosus is rather to be compared with the skepsis of the Ecclesiast, or the despair of Faust, by Goethe, who, because of having attained great intellectual heights, because of their incessant drinking from the fountainhead of wisdom, and their mastery of the cognitive gesture, and their unsatiable curiosity have arrived at the conclusion that being is an insoluble equation. But it is a resignation which follows knowledge and completes the act of knowing, not an act of resignation which precludes knowledge, because to resign before one knows is not resignation; this is arrogance and ignorance. Of course, only the mathematician can prove that certain equations are insoluble. The person who has not initiated in mathematics cannot prove that. And the homo religiosus is the mathematician who tries to prove, who feels, that the total equation of reality is an insoluble one, perhaps a great mystery.

But he is a man of knowledge. He is an intellectual. He is driven by the so-called, if I may use a Kantian expression, the metaphysical impulse. He wants to know. Not only he wants to act, not only he feels differently, he wants to know. And of course, the homo religiosus knows of, and is concerned with, and is guided by existential purposes which surpass the boundary lines of finitude. True – he is also in another respect different from the scientist. The scientist studies only reality which is bounded in by finitude, by the frames of reference of time and space.  However, the homo religiosus knows of another existence. I wouldn’t say another existence, because this would sound a little too theological, but of an existence which transcends the boundaries of finitude, and the boundaries of finitude which is conditioned by temporality.

Yet, irrespective of the ultimate end which religion pursues, and which is above and outside the worldly ambitions and aspirations of the homo theoreticus, irrespective of that, the drama of religion unfolds only within the confines of our natural orders. It means, within the confines of this worldliness. Right here and now – and this is basically Jewish – right here and now, in a world of sound and color, of sensuous complexities, of change and development, of mechanical motion, and unalterable processes, man has his rendezvous with infinity, with God. In order to meet God, one does not have to transcend this world. Although perhaps he knows of a higher existence, but meeting God – and this is basically Jewish; perhaps Christianity disagreed, I would say medieval Christianity, and this […] will come later; we’ll return later to this point –  the Jewish opinion was, Jews always said, Judaism, that one meets God right here and now, within the confines of time and space. Here and now, in the midst of the events, of a world of events and things, of mechanical orders, man rises to great heights, and meets his Creator, and he also falls into bottomless abyss of sin and actually an inferior existence. Right here and now, he rebels against God and his authority, which he accepted prior to his rebellion, and right here and now, he returns to God, meekly and humbly, like a child who apologizes to his father, against whom he rebelled a while ago. But it is in the right-here-and-now reality. Right here and now, man struggles with absurdity and insensateness, and tries to infuse meaning into something unknown, which we call existence. If, of course, gentlemen, the theatre of religious activities, of religious self-expression, and self-realization is to be found here, in our sensuous world, then understanding of and acquaintance with the latter, with this world, is a conditio sine qua non for the proper guiding, for the proper realization of our religious destiny. So it means, what I wanted to say is, that religion lays claims to knowledge, and this knowledge does not pertain to eternity, or to some transcendental entities, or to some spiritual beings, but religion wants to know this world, this corporeal, sensuous world, in all its manifestations, and at all its levels, like the scientists or the homo theoreticus.

And of course, ladies and gentlemen, it is a truism that although the cognitive gesture of the homo religiosus is a comprehensive one, aiming at reality in its entirety, manifesting itself in a variety of orders, the homo religiosus is mainly concerned with the order of personal existence, or, to be more exact, with himself. Of course, he wants to know the world, certainly, no doubt about it, but he is more concerned with himself. Perhaps there is a distinction between the homo theoreticus and the homo religiosus. The homo theoreticus, until recently, was more concerned with the outside world, with the physical process, with motion, since the days of Thales. He was more concerned with the organic matter, with the process of life, which also belongs to the outside world. He was less concerned with himself, the scientist, because simply if the scientist had been concerned with himself as much as he was concerned with the outside world, with dead matter and animate matter, then perhaps psychology and sociology, all the humanities, would have progressed much more. Because, actually, knowledge of man is a latecomer in the history of science. It’s a newcomer, actually. Alright, in the history of philosophy, Socrates said, what is man? But it was a different approach. It was not theoretical knowledge; it was more a practical problem. What should man do in order to be happy? This was the general problem of the Greek philosophers. Not who is man, what is man, what is the existential experience, what kind of a being he is, what is his uniqueness, singularity, his station in the world, in the universe, his struggle with the outside world, his struggle with himself. No, this was not a problem of Socrates, nor was it a problem of Aristotle or Plato, his master Plato, nor was it a problem of the Stoics and the Epicurean school. The problem was a practical one, a pragmatic one, a functional problem. How can man be happy? How can he attain eudaemony, or what they call it, pleasure, hedonei? It’s a practical problem. And the whole discussion about man in Greek philosophy, in the late antique Greek philosophy, from Socrates and down, so, it did not revolve about the metaphysics of man or theory of man, it was more revolving about the practical discipline of man. How can man be happy? It’s a technological problem about man, not a theoretical problem. And you know very well that technological problems cannot be solved unless you do basic research. And this was the trouble with the Greek philosophers. When it came to the outside world, they were pure theoreticians. The pragmatic view […] did not mislead them at all. They wanted to understand for the sake of knowledge. Of course, you know, the idea of technology was alien to the Greeks, completely alien, because the type of knowledge he was pursuing did not lend itself to technological applications. However, when it came to man himself, he suddenly turned into a technician. Not who is man, what is man, but how should man act in order to be happy.

Of course, homo religiosus is concerned with man and has a double problem. Who is man? And also the old Greek problem, the pragmatic problem, what shall a man do in order to realize or to find self-fulfillment? Religion must possess intimate knowledge and understanding at all levels of the existential experience, or what you call self-awareness. Otherwise, the God-man relationship could remain an enigma to the homo religiosus. If he doesn’t understand himself, how can he approach God?

Judaism’s unique focus on understanding Man

However universally true the aforementioned maxim is that the homo religiosus is an intellectual type and is particularly interested in self-knowledge –  it is true – various religions differ as to the manner in which they emphasize the above-mentioned cognitive aspects of the homo religiosus. While most religious systems – when I say most religious systems, I am referring to Occidental religion; I have very little knowledge of Oriental religion; I have no right to speak, not even to mention it; Occidental religion; Occidental religion, I understand Christianity and Islam; I am quite well acquainted with Christian scholastics, more or less – most religious systems were more prone to the theological thinking and developed theosophic doctrines, focusing their attention upon transcendental reality, and they developed only latent religious anthropologies – I mean, to distinguish it from scientific anthropology, we call it religious anthropology. When I say religious anthropology, it means the metaphysics of man, the interpretation of man, formulated in religious terms. For instance, take Christianity. They have a social philosophy, no doubt about it. Thomas Aquinas developed quite an extensive social philosophy based upon natural law, lex naturalis or lex naturae. But however, it’s funny, it’s strange – they developed a social philosophy without inquiring into the essence of man. How can you develop a social philosophy before you inquire into man for himself? Regardless of all the controversies about the relationship of man for himself and man within the community – we’ll come later to this problem, to this controversy – whether the community precedes the individual, or the individual precedes the community, I mean, systematically, conceptually. But, however, Thomas Aquinas was not concerned with the problem, who is man? He was concerned, what is society? And this is the reason why his social philosophy is incomplete, because it lacks the basic premise, knowledge of man for himself, man in seclusion, man communing not with the other self, but man communing with himself. Only lately, Christian philosophy began to develop [it], and actually, this aspect of religious anthropology, dealing with the individual. And of course, this is what we know, what’s known to us, under the name or the title, religious existentialism. I mean, there are many books written about religious existentialism. What it is –  it means the philosophy of man, interpreted in terms of Christianity. This is [it] exactly, more or less, if we want to simplify this equation.

However, Judaism occupied a very unique, so to say, position in the world of religion. While other religions stressed the idea of God more than that of man, Judaism, in its intellectual pursuits, concentrated on man, and religious anthropology replaced, in Judaism, theology. We have always inquired into the essence of man, never into the essence of God. Hence, our world formula is quite paradoxical. It is theocentric, God-centric, however, anthropo-oriented. We are orientated on man. We concentrate, so to say, more teleologically on God. Of course, God is the beginning and the ultimate end of everything – Judaism maintains that, as any other civilized religion – because if He is not the beginning and the end of everything, there is no need for religion. I can never understand where religion becomes so modernized that the idea of God is eliminated. Not that the zeal of the fanatic, I mean, is what makes me rebel against it, but it is a simple question. If this is religion, so there is no need to spend so much money on its institutions. Of course we are theocentric, but anthropo-orientated. Of course, God is the beginning and the ultimate end of everything. In Him, the fullness of existence is realized, and all yearnings of man find fulfillment. No doubt about it. It is very important for the therapeutic aspects of religion. Yet God Himself, Creator of the world, out of whose pure, absolute, infinite being, finitude emerged, God Himself remains to us Jews, Keil mistater beshafrir chevyon, deus absconditus, a mysterium tremendum, a hidden God, inapproachable, unknowable, inexpressible, eluding the grasp of our concepts.

The antithetical remoteness and closeness of God, in Christianity and Judaism

And if you’ll allow me, I want here to just raise one dichotomy, I mean, to call your attention to one dichotomy, or rather to an antithesis in our religious experience. Our experience of God, the Judaic experience of God – of course, I mean, you’ll find it in other religions as well, but particularly the Judaic experience of God – is antithetic. In so far [as] it contains an awareness of both, of endless remoteness and mystery on the one hand, and of intimate closeness and familiarity on the other hand. Don’t ask me how is it possible. Because basically, Judaism, in its approach to God, did not operate with the Aristotelian two-valued logic, or with the famous principle of contradiction or the excluded middle. Aristotle said, if it is A, it cannot be at the same time B. If it is B, it cannot be at the same time A. It’s either A or B. And if it’s A or B, it cannot be something else. We say, we Jews say – it’s typical of our mentality – it can be A and at the same time B. And not only it can be A and at the same time B – it can be A and at the same time B, and also something else [other] than A and B. I mean, you know, ladies and gentlemen, modern physics, classical physics operate with this. For instance, you know, the theory of light is interpreted nowadays both in terms of waves and in terms of particles, although both theories are mutually exclusive. So apparently, actually, modern advanced mathematics and advanced physics actually cannot operate simply; the metaphenomena does not lend itself to a two-valued logical interpretation. The principle of contradiction and the principle of the excluded middle was thrown away by the scientists. But in the religious approach, it’s certainly that we operate with antithetic ideas, concepts. On the one hand, He is remote, on the other hand, He is close. In our encounter with God, we find ourselves many a time bewildered by the opposition of two experiential alternatives: first, as I said before, Deus absconditus, God who is hiding in the depths of infinity and eternity, and second, as the psalmist says, the Lord is nigh unto all that call upon Him in truth and sincerity. He is both; He is nigh and remote. He is near and far away. This is the Jewish experience of God. On the one hand, we experience God as dwelling apart and beyond all dimensions of being, hidden in the remotest recesses of infinity, unapproachable and incomprehensible, abiding in concealment and in the shadows of transcendence. And the Hebrew word kadosh, holy – whoever knows the etymological meaning of kadosh, knows that kadosh actually in Hebrew signifies separateness, difference, otherness, incommensurability, something which doesn’t belong into this order, something mysterious. It signifies the withdrawal of God from being. On the other hand, the homo religiosus feels also the immediate presence of God. He is endless remoteness and also the immediate presence of God, outside and within him. God is man’s haven, he feels, his fortress, his habitation, where man resides. He experiences God as his companion, father, mother, friend. The words I am quoting are taken from the Bible. The Bible is the book of the Judaic religious experience. Mother, friend, lover and beloved both together, who caresses his head, bent under the load of existence, and whispers words of condolence and hope to him. He is the shepherd who cares for the helpless and the weak, and carries the young in his bosom. It’s a quotation from Isaiah. On the one hand, Deus absconditus, on the other hand, Deus revelatus, close to us. On the one hand, mysterium tremendum magnum, distant, strange and unknowable, inspiring dread and awe, on the other hand, Deus revelatus, involved in creation, in every aspect of existence, addressing himself to us through every twinkle of the distant stars, through every budding tree, out of the stillness of the summer night, the cry of the infant and the innocent laughter of the child, through one’s thoughts, feelings, strivings and yearnings, and on the other hand, distant, incomprehensible, strange, far in infinity, in the recess of infinity. He confronts us both as an adversary, as an antagonist, and as a friend. As a stranger, and as a father. As a familiar figure, if I may use this expression, and as a mysterious person. You know Jacob, who was wrestling with the stranger – who was the stranger, if not the same God who spoke to him a night before?

The experience is antithetic, it’s dichotomous, it’s mutually exclusive, but still, this antithesis and this dichotomy actually lends to the religious experience its uniqueness, greatness, and magnificence. But of course, we must realize, keep in mind, that while the individual homo religiosus may engage in a paradoxical experience, fraught with incommensurate aspects and incongruous themes, oscillating between complete resignation and passionate, ecstatic joy, the community, the institutionalized religion, must organize its collective experience along coherent patterns, and cannot afford to tolerate polarity within our religious awareness. What is good at an esoteric level is absolutely inoperative at an exoteric level. What is good for the few individuals, for the hominis religiosi, for the great religious genius, is absolutely incomprehensible for the average person.

So of course, therefore, if you will, for instance, study the history of religion, you will find that many, some religions have emphasized the aspect of remoteness of God. Other religions, on the contrary, introduce God as a familiar figure. Although the religious experience, the private religious experience of the homo religiosus, has both motifs, the motif of remoteness and the motif of closeness as well.

For instance, we’ll take Christianity. Why was the concept of father-son introduced? Why is it? Why was this trinitarian motive introduced in Christianity, philosophically? Simply, I mean, whoever reads the literature of the fathers of the desert, of the fathers of the desert, or reads the literature by St. Augustine, his Confessions, The City of God, and so forth on, will see that Christianity actually was torn by two motifs – by the motif of closeness of God, and remoteness of God. By the motif of Deus absconditus, the hidden God, and by the motif of Deus revelatus, the revealed God, who is close to me, who is within me, who has intercourse with me, who is my companion, to whom I can address myself, I can pray, I can complain, I may rebel, I may engage in a dialogue. And the final result was that God the Father is the remote one, and the Son is the one who was walking on earth, associating with people, speaking to them. That’s why in Christianity, in Christian theology, you know very well, all prayers cannot be addressed to the Father unless we beseech the Son to mediate between us and the Father. Why? Because the Father is too remote for prayer. Prayer cannot reach Him. There is no way for man to find access to God the Father. That’s why they actually simply split divinity into two entities and introduced the Son. It means the God who is close to me.

Judaism, a Unitarian religion, couldn’t do that. So in Judaism it is an antithesis, a dichotomy of closeness and remoteness. Yes. The question is, what did Judaism do with the problem of its institutionalized religion? Judaism is also – it’s a private experience, [buy] it’s also an institutionalized religion. Any religion must be institutionalized, because the word religion itself indicates institutionalization. Institutionalized, conceptualized, made, so to say, available to the crowd. Because you cannot, you see, for instance – education – there were times when education was considered a privilege of the select few, of the aristocratic society. In England [they] had such a system. Actually, old Greece, actually, believed in aristocracy as far as education is concerned. You can say art – Eliot says that art is only a product of the class of leisure.

But no one can say that religion should be, so to say, limited to the select few, for a simple reason, because, from our viewpoint, religion saves man, gives him salvation and redemption, and we think that everybody is entitled to salvation and redemption, not only the philosopher, but the simpleton as well, not only the aristocrat, but the slave as well. So you cannot turn the religious experience into an esoteric affair for the philosopher, for the inquiring mind, for the person who simply encounters God. Means and ways must be found in order to simplify the religious experience and to make it available and accessible to every person. And the dichotomous religious experience is an esoteric affair. Exoterically, the average person on the street cannot understand the dichotomy. It’s either or. The principle of contradiction that Aristotle introduced into logic is simply common sense. It’s either black or white. It cannot be between – alright, gray, I mean, alright – but either it’s a square or it’s round, or a circle. It cannot be both at the same time.

So what did Judaism do? What motive was emphasized – not in the private experience of God, the Judaic private experience – the Judaic private experience as it was depicted and described in the Psalms. This is the greatest book on religious experience in general, I believe. And I’m never apologetic about it. But it’s the greatest book of the religious experience in general. Everybody agrees with me as far as it’s concerned. The Psalmist was a religious genius. The real homo religiosus. In him you find Psalms, the famous Psalm, God is my shepherd, I shall not want. So how is God depicted, described? Close companion, my shepherd. I associate with him. I engage in a dialogue with him. I bend my tired head on his shoulder. And he whispers into me, in words of hope to me. And the same Psalmist, the next day, in the next chapter, begins to speak, begins to say, Where can I escape from you? Where can I find you? I have searched everywhere. I found you nowhere. I came to your sanctuary, to your Temple. I thought I’ll find you there. But you are not there. I searched in the woods. I didn’t find your shadow. Where are you? On the one hand he speaks of God as his companion, his shepherd. On the other hand, in the same breath, he says he can’t find God, he doesn’t know where He is. It’s what we say, numen presence, numen absence. God is present and absent. He is right here and he is infinity. He is remote and distant. This is alright for the esoteric crowd, for the homo religiosus.

But what about the community, the Jewish community? How can you –  I mean, after all, we never wanted, gentlemen, the community just to live technically religiously. This is an accusation which has been raised against us from time to time, against rabbinic legalism, against fossilization of Judaism, against Judaism which has been converted into, I mean, turned into just dry, trite and formal rules of conduct, technical conduct without, I mean, this great passionate experience, this paradoxical awareness of God and man. But this is not true, gentlemen. We have both, we have a subjective experience; we also have objective correlates. But what about the subjective experience as far as the crowd is concerned? What did Judaism tell the crowd? Is God remote or not? Is He mysterium magnum, or is He known, is He knowable? Is He my friend or is He a stranger to me? Is He familiar or alien to me? What did He say?

Judaism had found actually a funny solution to it. It divided between the emotional aspects of experience, and the intellectual motifs of the religious experience. Emotionally God is close to us, intellectually far off. Emotionally – the religious experience is a total experience. I mean, not only the intellect is involved, the intellect and the affects, the emotions and even the will is [invoved]; it’s a complex experience. Emotionally God is close to us. Emotionally God is the answer to all our questions. Intellectually, He is the most confusing, perplexing and disturbing question. Emotionally he’s our friend. We know him, we feel him. We simply, what William James said, we feel the unseen reality. He’s everything to us. He said, God is my shepherd, I shall not want. Intellectually He’s alien to us, He’s a mystery, the most complicated mystery, the enigma which will never be unwrapped or resolved. He’ll remain the unknown. He’s the lumen emotionally; he’s the numen – numen means the unknown – intellectually. He’s the eternal question intellectually. He’s the answer to all our questions emotionally. This is [it] exactly.

Prayer is possible. Why is prayer possible? Because prayer basically is an emotional act. Not possible, desirable. Prayer has, I mean, there is sense to prayer, because emotionally we approach Him. We come very close to Him. Theology – an absurdity. Why [is] theology an absurdity? Because while prayer is a result of our emotional gesture, theology is an expression of our intellectual approach. Intellectually we have no approach to God. He is Deus absconditus. That’s why Judaism has no theology.

Whoever knows a little of Maimonides, a little of Bachya, the classics, knows very well that they deny the existence and the possibility and the rationality of theology. Because theology means I approach God not only emotionally but intellectually. I apply categories, certain concepts, basic concepts, which I derive from finitude, from my sensuous experiences, from my here and now perceptions and sensations. These categories and concepts are not applicable to God. He is transcendence and infinity. So since, ladies and gentlemen, God is intellectually an enigma, so [that] is why Judaism did not believe in theology. However, we can approach God emotionally.

Now, even our knowledge of God is never related to His essence, but to His will, which addresses itself to man. God discloses, according to Judaism, only those verities which are practically relevant to our finite existence. And assertions about God are to be taken not in an interpretive but in a normative sense. When I say God is merciful or God is just, so, Maimonides says, why do I have to say anything about Him? Why do I have to attribute anything to Him or predicate anything of Him? Predication is an act, I mean, when the object is close to the subject, but if there is infinity separating the object from the subject, how can I dare to predicate of God? So Maimonides answered, no, you don’t predicate anything of God. You predicate something about yourself, what you should do. When you say God is merciful, it doesn’t mean God is merciful, because you know very little about God, and the idea of mercy is an emotional reaction to certain challenges. I mean, how can you speak about emotions of God? You only say you should be merciful, because the principle – what is ethical to Judaism? What God does, the acts in which God engages.

So we attribute certain acts to God, in order [that] we should have an opportunity to imitate Him, imitatio Dei. They predicate of God the moral activity which is meaningful to us, as an ideal requiring imitation. Outside of the practical moral perspective of imitatio Dei, there isn’t a single category or term of conceptual thought which is applicable to the Supreme Being, because intellectually He is a mystery. We have therefore always considered the theological gesture a little too adventurous and futile a pursuit.

What questions about Man does Judaism explore?

The first question which Judaism tries to answer pertains not to the Creator, but to the creature. I say creature in the theological sense, not in the colloquial sense. Man as a creature. To man we ask, and this is our basic inquiry, who is this unique being to whom God has addressed himself, and with whom He established by covenant a community of existence? In its effort to answer this question, Judaism gradually formulated a doctrine of man. And that’s exactly what we’ll try to develop, this doctrine of man. What Judaism thinks of man. I’ll give an example [of] the problems which we’ll consider.

For instance, first: man in his immediacy, completely dominated by organically uniform and unbroken life processes, man as a natural being, as a part of the organic realm. It’s interesting –Judaism always believed in that. But we must know how far. We may, so to say, advance this thesis, and also, you should understand, man in full exercise of his independence. In other words, Judaism deals with the old dichotomy in man, of which the psalmist and liturgist have so frequently spoken. Umotar ha’adam min habeheima ayin ki hakol havel; Ata hivdalta Enosh merosh; And the preeminence of man over the beast is nought, for all is vanity, and yet, Thou hast distinguished man from the beginning, and hast recognized his privilege, that he might stand before Thee. It’s again an antithesis. On one hand, man is nothing, nill, and on the other hand, man is the crown of creation. This problem we have to deal with.

Second, what are the traits by which Judaism identifies the unique endowment in man, in contradistinction to his universal, natural mode of existence? Why is man different, and by what is he different? Is it the intellect, as the medieval scholar thought? Is it perhaps his will, freedom of will? Does Judaism believe in freedom of will, in free action? Is it perhaps a certain mode of feeling, of his emotional experience? What is singular in man? [It] is a problem. And another problem, [which] is very important to Judaism, is this specific charisma, this endowment, given to man in the form of a grant, and all man has to do is to accept it in a spirit of gratitude? God told him, you are different, you are distinct, you are unique, you are singular, take it! Or, [is it] something for which man must reach out and struggle until the end of his sojourn on earth? Perhaps it is not a grant; it’s an ideal, charisma of man, and God will not realize, perhaps, the ideal, but man himself should realize. He just gave him the opportunity, but didn’t give him any grant. It is also a problem.

Christianity basically believes that it is a grant. Of course, man can distort the grant, man can corrupt this charisma, this specific endowment, he can also, so to say, prove himself grateful and watch over it. But basically, it is given by God, this is the concept of Grace. The question is whether we know of the concept of Grace. Is there grace in Judaism?

Or perhaps man is free either to rise to the heights of angels, or to descend to the low depths of a devil. He has the opportunity, but no grant. This should be discussed.

Third, if the latter alternative be true, that charisma, the unique charisma of man is not a grant, a ready-made grant, and all man has to do is to accept it, but it is more an ideal, it is a challenge to man. So, how can man realize his endowment, and actualize his capacity for a meaningful life? How is it possible? [It is] simply a question of technique, a technical problem. What are the phases of man’s ascent from an insensate state of affairs to a redeemed existence? There is an ascent. Man climbs up the mountain of the Lord, if we may use an expression, a phrase by the Psalmist. Yeah, what are the phases of this ascent? At the bottom, man is an insensate being, like the animal. At the top, he leads a meaningful life. What are the phases of his great ascent from meaninglessness to meaningfulness? These are problems [that] also psychology can deal with, and secular ethics can deal with, but they are problems, nevertheless, [that are] very important as far as religion is concerned.

Fourth, what is the relationship of Judaism to man’s impulses, and to his craving for hedone, for carnal pleasure? Has Judaism acted realistically, and recommended unqualified approval of such physiological drives, manifesting man’s naturalness, or has it condemned them, and accepted a monastic morality? There are certain, you know, of course – if you ask on the street any rabbi, he’ll tell you, of course, Judaism rejected monastic philosophy. It’s easy to say, but it’s hard to prove. Because monastic philosophy should not – that Christianity, I mean, medieval Christianity has accepted – should not be just rejected with contempt. We should understand the reasons why, the reasons, what prompted them – the metaphysical and philosophical reasons? What prompted a man like Bernard from Clairvaux, or St. Augustine, a deep, great mind, one of the greatest religious minds that ever lived on this earth, St. Augustine? Why was he inclined toward monasticism? There is a reason for it. And we should understand why Judaism, if Judaism has rejected, or perhaps limited, the theory of monasticism, why, and in what manner? Is there perhaps another solution to this problem, besides these two extreme – on the one hand hedonism, on the other hand monasticism? Perhaps there is a middle solution, a golden mean. I don’t know.

Fifth, we have to consider, is the existential experience of man mainly an awareness of his individuality and uniqueness, and hence an experience of retreat from others? It means the basic existential experience is a secluded one, man for himself, man in seclusion. A solitary man experiences existence as for himself. Basically in his existential experience, he sees only himself. The other self does not enter into his existential experience. Call it solitariness, call it egocentrism, the terms are simply irrelevant. Is it just an experience of man in seclusion? Or, does it express itself in an indomitable yearning for communal existence, related and committed to others? In other words, has Judaism dealt with man for himself as a secluded existence, or with man in communion with the other self? This is the problem, the passage from secluded existence to existence in communion. It’s a problem which should be investigated properly.

Sixth, for instance – Platonic or Aristotelian personalism – the question of mind and soul. You know, Christians distinguish very strictly, very carefully between mind and soul. Mind is a part of natural man; soul is [a] transcendental endowment. Does Judaism know of that? Is the Judaic doctrine of man voluntaristic or intellectualistic? [To] what did Judaism give the primacy – to the voluntas or to the intellect? Is man a rational being – whatever he does is examined, tested by the ratio, by the intellect – he never does anything which is foolish? It’s very hard to say nowadays, but let’s abstract from this world, from the politics and all follies of man. But, basically, is he a rational being, or, on the contrary, man is not a rational being – man is driven by some will? As Schopenhauer said, will is a blind will, basically non-rational will. But the attitude of Judaism is important, even with regard to practical problems.

And also, of course, the question of freedom and determinism – what is man, a free being or a determined being? Is the law of causality operative in man’s life – in his spiritual life, I mean, I don’t mean his physiological life – or there is full freedom?

And ninth, I mean, and eighth, the problem of theodicy, the problem of evil, is a very important problem. Man’s response to suffering. The question is, what is suffering? The second question, why suffering? The third question, how should man respond to suffering? This is a very important problem. And for modern man, perhaps, it is the most exquisite and the most outstanding [problem].

Questions from the audience

So, you want to ask me some questions, or shall I go on?

[audience member:] Rabbi, I’d like to ask you a question. In the early part of your talk, you had been developing a number of paradoxes. And it seemed to me there was a paradox implicit in what you were developing, in the distinction between the man of religion and the man of science. That is, the paradox being, that as you developed the distinction between them, you also developed what they have in common, that they are almost indistinguishable.

[The Rav:] They have in common? Of course, I mean…

[audience member:] That they are not…in other words, that they are almost indistinguishable.

[The Rav:] Yes, I’ll tell you. For instance, you see, if two beings should belong to two kinds, generically different, so you cannot differentiate between them, because actually you can’t compare them. Differentiation is always possible when comparison is in place. Because, I mean, if the homo religiosus would have no concern for knowledge, then I wouldn’t distinguish between him and the man of science. We cannot distinguish between a two-dimensional magnitude and a three-dimensional magnitude. The fact that this is two-dimensional, this is three-dimensional, or the other one, the third one is one-dimensional, this itself, I mean, settles all comparisons. But since the homo religiosus is an intellectual type craving for knowledge, then I try to find the distinctions. But there is a common denominator in that sense.

[audience member:] Even to the act of resignation there is a common denominator.

[the Rav:] You mean for the scientist?

[audience member:] The scientist has an implicit ….

[The Rav:] You mean the scientist also performs the movement of resignation,…

[audience member:] Yes.

[The Rav:] …if I may employ Kierkegaardian language, yes? We’ll come to it later. We’ll see. We’ll analyze modern science and its philosophical approach.

I mean, I’ll tell you, when I read the press in America, when they speak about controlling the universe, and about exploring all mysteries of being, I don’t believe they are so humble in performing the movement of resignation. Sometimes when I read statements, mostly written not by scientists, but by journalists, or by people who write about science, who are not creative scientists, I simply, if I may use Sartre’s expression, I feel a nausea about existence in general, because there is arrogance of man, and if there is something wrong, something wrong and simply undignified in man, it is arrogance. I don’t believe they perform the, so to say, the movement of resignation, but we’ll discuss it later. We’ll discuss it later. It’s very important for the scientist – if they would perform, if they perform [it], there would be a different world now. Yes, sir?

[audience member:] In the early period of Hassidism,

[The Rav:] Yes?

[audience member:] Would you classify them as homo religiosus?

[The Rav:] Certainly.

[audience member:] You would?

[the Rav:] Certainly. And not all Hasidic rabbis.

[audience member:] Oh, no, no.

[The Rav:] I mean the fathers of Hasidism. Take, for instance, the Baal Shem Tov.

[audience member:] You would?

[The Rav:] Certainly. Yes. As a genius. As a homo religiosus, a genius.

[audience member:] That’s an extraordinary example.

[the Rav:] Yes, it’s extraordinary. You’ll ask me, I expected a second part of your question, but intellectually they were not at a high level.

[audience member:] But would you say there was any homo theoreticus in the Baal Shem Tov?

[the Rav:] Yes, implicitly. He didn’t develop it. Homo theoreticus in a homo religiosus depends simply upon circumstance, upon the environment. Certainly the homo religiosus of today has a better opportunity to develop his knowledge and to realize his intellectual ambitions than the Baal Shem Tov who lived in some village in the 18th century, in a world full of ignorance and absolutely no concept of nature and environment. But there was implicitly, there was a homo theoreticus. That his interpretation of nature was wrong, it’s not his fault. It’s the fault of society and the fault of age. Even Aristotle made mistakes about interpreting nature.

[audience member:] Do you have documentary evidence of that? Or is that kind of a intuition?

[the Rav:] First of all, I told you at the outset that whatever I say is subjective. But however, as far as this is concerned, I could prove it to you. I could prove it to you by his writing.

[audience member:] Isn’t there implied in the revival of Hasidism the concept that it is not necessary to accompany that with an intellectual appreciation?

[the Rav:] You are right as far as this is concerned. But about what revival are you speaking of? I would like to know. The modern revival of Hasidism, to me it means escapism. You know, escape, where from? From life on the one hand, and from religion on the other.

[audience member:] You are implying a marked deviation from the original…

[the Rav:] Yeah, absolutely. You mean the Buberian revivalism, by Buber, let’s take it, yeah, by Buber. This is the finest one. Of course, Buber is exactly wrong in that. That he sees… because Buber is a German Jew. Germany was simply under the influence of Schleiermacher and the so-called religious pietism. Religion was reduced to pietism. It means subjective experience, basically an emotional experience. So in order to present Judaism to the German philosophers or to the German religious person, so actually he described an emotional experience. You are right that Buber’s Hasidism, Neo-Hasidism, has absolutely no intellectual motifs. It’s an ecstatic experience. When experience becomes ecstatic, it cannot, so to say, engage in any intellectual gesture. Because when one gets out of mind – what ecstasy means – he cannot think, I mean, very simply. But this is not genuine Hasidism.

[audience member:] But I would infer from that that even if Buber’s concept is on a somewhat lower level…

[the Rav:] I don’t understand what you mean.

[audience member:] Because it is purely emotional.

[the Rav:] It’s emotional, yes.

[audience member:] It doesn’t have an intellectual basis.

[the Rav:] No, no intellectual basis. The way he describes the Baal Shem Tov.

[audience member:] Therefore two things may happen. Either the emotion may run dry, and there is very little left to sustain it,

[the Rav:] Yes, correct.

[audience member:] or that it actually is not the true manifestation of what we think.

[the Rav:] You are right. First of all, the emotion may run dry, or it may become mysticism. You see, the road from emotionalism to mysticism is not a too long one, and you can land in the realm of mysticism very easily before you know [it]. And Buber basically has performed this…He’s almost a mystic. But I must say about Buber himself, he himself is also in a certain respect a homo religiosus. No doubt about it. I may criticize certain aspects of his philosophy. As Buber is a homo religiosus, Buber’s homo religiosus is not only an emotional type, but is also an intellectual one. No doubt about it. After all, he developed a philosophy, the I-Thou philosophy, whatever you call it. But the way he describes the Baal Shem Tov and the other fathers of Hasidism, of course, he reduces the Hasidic movement to an affective experience, not intellectual, cognitive experience. Yes?

[audience member:] I was merely going to make the observation that Buber is also associated with a modern revival of existentialism.

[the Rav:] Yes, existentialism. Basically, there are so many aspects to existentialism. But existentialism basically is a… Now, for instance, take Sartre. Sartre is atheistic, agnostic. But take Jasper. Or take the father of existentialism, Kierkegaard. He is the father, actually. He was an intellectual type, no doubt about it. You cannot say Kierkegaard was just…I mean, the greatness of Kierkegaard expressed itself in his emotional experience. Because emotionally, he was a psychopath, I would say. He was mad, if I may use this expression. The man was not normal. But intellectually, he was a genius, great. Great. One of the greatest thinkers, in my opinion, who ever lived. But he was an intellectual type, too. Yes?

[audience member:] In the Judaic experience, there’s a dichotomy that exists. It’s interesting that the Ten Commandments were given to Moses, who in turn gave it to the people…

[the Rav:] Correct.

[audience member:] …and when you talk about bringing this to the crowd, to the people, as an emotional experience, it had to go through Moshe Rabbeinu, who went to God.

[the Rav:] I could echo your remark that the Bible says that the people said to Moses, you speak with God, because we are afraid, because [if] we speak with God, we should die. What does it mean? This is the mysterium magnum, the mysterium tremendum. Man is filled not with love, but he’s filled with awe, tremor, fear. Vayanu’u vaya’amdu merachok, they have retreated from the Mount Sinai. This exactly, I mean, this is not the familiar aspect of familiarity with God, but the aspect of dread, the dreadfulness of God. What in Hebrew we call nora, [it] means dreadful, awful, far away. You see it, of course. But basically, emotionally, Jewish people were trained to consider God as a companion, as a friend. Intellectually, it’s [different].

[audience member:] Rabbi, how does that differ from the Son of God?

[the Rav:] It’s the same God.

[audience member:] I know, but when you say that there’s a difference between Christianity, between Jesus, as the Son of God is the representative of the people in dealing with God, isn’t that comparable to the same…?

[the Rav] No, this is only subjective. It’s only a subjective dichotomy on our part, that emotionally we approach God in a different manner than intellectually. But God is one.

[audience member:] But doesn’t the Christian do that the same as the Jew?

[the Rav:] No, he has two entities. I mean, three entities. I mean, I’m not speaking about the Ghost. The Ghost I never understood. Why there was need for the third entity, I could never understand. I mean, I’m not joking. But I say, I could never understand. This is due to some expressions in the Bible, ruach Elohim, the spirit of God. But there was no need for it at all. There was no need for it at all. It’s only, you see, the need was between the birth of Christ, you see, and the annunciation, so to say, when Mary, I mean, was informed, advised, that she’s going to give birth to a son. So who advised Mary about it? This was the necessity. Who advised Mary about it? The father? The father doesn’t address himself to anybody. He’s silent. So the son? Hasn’t been born yet. So this is why this third agent wasn’t produced. The Ghost, the Holy Ghost. But theologically, he gives a lot of headaches to Christians. They could never digest this Ghost. They try to find a place for him, but it’s very dark, twisting around theological thoughts and ideas. But his son and father? This is simply remoteness and closeness of God. But to us, it’s only a psychological approach. A metaphysical approach. To them it was hypostatized, hypostatized, absolutized, and turned into two entities – one entity that is removed from us, the other entity that is close to us.

[audience member:] But they’ve reduced it, you say, to two entities. We haven’t reduced it to two entities, yet you say there’s an antithesis between the remoteness and the closeness of God.

[the Rav:] On our part.

[audience member:] Yet don’t they, even with their two entities, have that same closeness and remoteness as you’ve expressed it?

[the Rav:] Yes, they have it too. But their closeness is to the son, their remoteness is as far as the father is concerned.

[audience member:] But the son is a separate entity as not part of God.

[the Rav:] He’s separate in one. He’s separate in one, you know that. There are three entities in one. There is unity. I mean, when you tell a Christian he doesn’t believe in the unity of God, he’ll deny it. But it’s unity in Trinity. How, I don’t understand it. I don’t believe they understand it too well, so it’s no use discussing it, but to them, our subjective dichotomy was hypostatized and actually turned into two divinities, so to say. All right. Then they united the divinities.

[audience member:] Doctor…

[the Rav:] Yes?

[audience member:] [Would] you say that an incisive criticism of Reconstructionism would be that it’s near homo theoreticus and removing itself from…

[the Rav:] Which Reconstructionism do you mean? The American Reconstructionism? Dr. Kaplan? The main criticism, I’ll tell you what the main criticism is. It’s too logical, and too businesslike. I understand it too well. This is trouble.

[audience member:] That’s what I meant.

[The Rav:] It’s arranged too neatly, too neatly arranged. It’s too commercially advertised. It’s too logical. The paradox – there is no paradox in Reconstructionism. There is no absurdity in Reconstructionism. And I don’t believe that a religious experience can be performed if there is no aspect of absurdity in it. If there is no absurdity, there is no religious experience. Then it’s business. Then it is pragmos. If it’s pragmos, [then] it’s very neatly arranged. I mean, we’ll come to it. I’ll develop this idea.

[audience member:] Follow that up sometime.

[the Rav] Oh, sure, I’ll come to it. I mean, this is known since Kirkegaard, and Judaism has known it since antiquity. The religious experience deals with certain aspects of absurdity. If the element of absurdity is lacking, there is no religious experience.

[audience member:] Are you trying to equate absurdity to mysticism?

[the Rav:] No, I’m not […] I cannot develop this idea. I’ll come later to it. I don’t want to sound absurd.

[audience member:] Doctor, I was just […]. Can you attribute to a man’s experience with God a level of closeness, a level of removal or remoteness? You attribute to man a humbleness because you’re [..] And you attribute to man a mishugas, an absurdity…

[the Rav:] Yes, […]. You know what Maimonides said? You used the expression mishugas. Maimonides said there is an expression in the psalm, shigayon leDavid. Shigayon leDavid means basically David’s mistakes. But my Maimonides replaced the yud with an ayin, and it’s called shiga’on le David, David’s madness. The love for God is madness on the part […]

[audience member:] The thing that I’m just wondering is that in modern psychology are we trying to see primary thoughts and secondary thoughts; primary thoughts in terms of the unconscious and secondary thoughts in terms of the rational, the developmental.

[the Rav:] Yeah, conceptualized, I mean, and rationalized.

[audience member:] So I’m just wondering if the treatment of psychology, the furtherance of psychology will strengthen your own position in relation to the concept of God being both one close, or being one… a theoretical experience as well as being an emotional experience.

[the Rav:] I’ll tell you, if you’ll take any book on psychology of religion, you’ll find it. You’ll find this antithesis. There’s nothing new in it. There’s nothing new. You’ll find it. And I can say it from my own experience, in studying the text, the classical texts, I mean, the religious classical texts. You may say that this applies even to persons as well sometimes. And yes, we’ll come to it, perhaps. This dichotomy is not confined to God, but extends in our relationships with other persons. We are close to them and far from them. Perhaps the same applies to husband and wife as well. Quite possible. After all, man is imitatio Dei, image of God. What is true of God is true also in miniature of man.

[audience member:] How do you define absurdity and how do you distinguish it from mysticism? Or is it semantics?

[the Rav:] No, mysticism has no absurdities, because mysticism has no criterion of rationality, so you couldn’t speak of absurdity. In order to be absurd, one must be rational. Because otherwise, if he’s not rational, his absurdity doesn’t say anything to him. The mystic is not rational. The mystic is [having] an ecstatic experience, and ekstasis in Greek means out of mind. Simply, man has abandoned his intellectual position in the world and gave himself to something other. But as far as absurdity is concerned, please don’t take it at its face value. We’ll come to it. We’ll have to deal with this problem. Otherwise, I mean, religion has nothing to say.

[audience member:] I was just wondering one other thing in this whole area of man in relation to God, this whole area of the concept of man, of God being remote and yet close.

[the Rav:] Yes.

[audience member:] I take this not in terms of plausibility or anything, but present-day man’s relationship to analysts, to therapists, this whole area of man’s closeness, the attempt to get  closeness to himself, as well as man’s recognition of the remoteness…

[the Rav:] No, thank you. It’s just…water is enough…but, yes? In terms of…yes?

[audience member:] I’m just trying to…

[the Rav:] You mean to himself, you mean?

[audience member:] Well, I’m just trying to see if some sort of…

[the Rav:] Of course, you’ll find parallels also in our communal relations, or so to say, in the relationship of the self to the non-self – of course, this antithesis of closeness and remoteness. I started with this dichotomy with regard to God, but we’ll have to descend to the level of man. Otherwise…it’s not the psychology of religion we are interested in; we are interested in man.

[audience member:] I want to apologize to you why we were late. Traffic was so bad. You left at quarter to nine the Yeshiav, and traffic was bad at every turn practically. So, next time, we hope to be here on time, and we will have a longer period of break in the middle, so that we can ask questions in time.

[the Rav:] I haven’t finished the introduction. I haven’t developed yet the question how to approach, how you can approach this. It’s a question of introduction, of method; it’s not only…

[audience member:] […] Rabbi next time you get your own coffee.

[the Rav:] I beg your pardon?

[audience member:] I’m saying to Rabbi Feldman, the next time you won’t get caught in traffic, you won’t need to be served.

[another audience member:] Rabbi, we’ll be talking more about this, how the community and institutionalized religion meets this dichotomous situation; Rabbi, will you talk more about that?

[the Rav:] Yes.

[audience member:] Because I’m very much interested in what…It’s very important for us.

[another audience member:] I would hope that you would come to that rather early, because that has very direct application to a great many things that we do. What is our obligation as Jewish agencies…

[the Rav:] I understand. I’ll come to it.

[audience member:]…to draw…

[the Rav:] Yes, but first we have to develop a philosophy. You see, it’s no use taking this… employing this Greek method, pragmatic method, pragmas, to see how should we act. First you should know who this subject of action is. I mean, we’ll come to it, to the […], to the pragmatic aspect, but you have to suffer a bit of metaphysics of man before we come to technical problems. We can’t help it. What can I do? I can’t help it.

[audience member:] It’s not a matter of pragmatics. It’s a clear understanding of what is this institution and how it evolves.

[the Rav:] Of what religion means, yes…

[audience member:] … and how that evolves, not so much what we do about it.

[the Rav:] I’ll also speak about the question of happiness of man, [the] problem of peace of mind in religion, whether it is a goal or it isn’t the ultimate end of religion. I’ll take up all these problems, because there are many problems. Yes, [the] problems are complex. Yes?

[audience member:] What is the bibliography that you want us to pursue?

[the Rav:] Bibliography? Jewish, I have none. Jewish, I have none.

[audience member:] Not even the Guide to the Perplexed?

[the Rav:] The Guide to the Perplexed is very good, very good. From time to time I’ll assign you chapters. But I wouldn’t recommend to you to engage in the study of the Guide to the Perplexed. It takes too much time. You are too busy people. It’s a job for me; it’s all right. I have a lot of time. And they pay me for that. But…Jewish, I have… the Guide to the Perplexed, of course, I mean…I’ll give a list to Rabbi Feldman, certain, selected chapters, and also from medieval literature, which is available in English, but, of course, there is a general literature in…a theological literature, a general theological literature. I would recommend to you – I’ll bring you the list, I mean – general theological literature, which would, of course, I mean, analyze these problems from the Christian viewpoint, but in many respects will meet, I mean…there is, there is, there will… there are distinctions, but there are also similarities as well. I’ll give you a list if you would like to follow up.

End of lecture 1