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The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit
Midrash
The Kuzari Yeshivat Har Etzion
Shiur
#27: The Names of God
Rav
Itamar
Eldar
A name or designation of a person or an object generally serves two
purposes:
1)
It defines the essence and nature of that person or object.
2)
It defines the relationship between that person or object and its
surroundings, as well as the manner in which the external world encounters that
person or object.
This
is true regarding the name of a person and also regarding the names and
attributes of God.
In
various places in the Kuzari, R. Yehuda Halevi relates to the names and
attributes of God. Through them, he learns about God and His relationship with
the world in general and with Israel in particular.
THE
NAME "ELOHIM"
The
Rabbi: "Elohim" is a term signifying the Ruler or Governor of the
world, if I allude to the possession of the whole of it, and of a portion [of
the world] if I refer to the powers either of nature or the spheres or of a
human judge. The word has a plural form because it was so used by gentile
idolaters, who believed that every deity was invested with astral and other
powers. Each of these was called Eloha; their united forces were
therefore, called Elohim. They swore by them, and behaved as if bound to
abide by their judgments. These deities were as numerous as are the forces which
sway the human body and the universe. "Force" is a name for any of the causes of
motion. Every motion arises from a force of its own, to the exclusion of other
forces. The spheres of the sun and moon are not subject to one force, but to
different ones. These people did not take into account the prime power from
which all these forces emanated, because they did not acknowledge its existence.
They asserted that the sum total of these forces was styled Eloha, just
as the sum total of the forces which control the human body was called "soul."
Or they admitted the existence of God, but maintained that to serve Him was of
no use. They considered Him too far removed and exalted to have any knowledge of
us, much less to care about us. Far from God are such notions. As a result of
their theories, they worshipped, not one being, but many, which they styled
"Elohim." This is a collective form which comprises all causes
equally. All the forces emanate from God, though He Himself is above them. (IV,
1)
What is unique about this designation is its universality and the fact
that it does not denote the God of Israel in particular. Rihal explains its
origins and the way it came into being among the nations of the world. This name
was given to the sum total of idols that the nations of the world built in their
belief that each idol is the resting place of one of the many different forces
that move the world. The number of gods, according to the nations of the world,
equals the number of forces, and the sum total of gods that represent all the
forces in the world are referred to by the gentile nations as "Elohim."
This, notes Rihal, led to the name being used to designate a ruler or judge, as
one endowed with power and authority.
Rihal emphasizes two characteristics of what this name represents for the
nations of the world. These two characteristics lie at the root of the
difference between this name as it is used by the other nations and the name as
it used by Israel, which in turn reflects the difference between the idolatrous
and philosophical concept of divinity and the idea of divinity in
Israel.
The first characteristic is that of plurality. I have already noted that
for the nations of the world the number of gods equals the number of forces,
each god representing a different force and in charge of operating that
force.
The second characteristic is the issue of identity. Rihal takes pains to
emphasize that among the gentile nations there is absolute identity between the
god and the force that he represents. The god is the force and the force is the
god.
This emphasis is exceedingly important, because when we attribute a
certain force to a particular person (e.g., when we assert that a moving ball's
motion was caused by the person who threw it), we do not mean to imply identity
between the source of the force and the force itself. The person who threw the
ball is an autonomous being who exerted a certain force, but he is certainly
made up of much more than that force. This is not true about the gods that Rihal
discusses. In the cultures under discussion, there is total identity between the
god and the force itself.
In idolatrous cultures, there is a lack of belief in a being that is
above the various forces – "because they did not acknowledge its existence. They
asserted that the sum total of these forces was styled
Eloha…"
In
philosophical cultures, on the other hand, such a being is indeed recognized,
but "they considered Him too far removed and exalted to have any knowledge of
us, much less to care about us." Thus, recognition of such a being is
irrelevant, and the sole dialogue that man can conduct with that which is above
him is with the forces themselves.
The
name "Elohim" as used by Israel challenges the universal designation in
terms of both idolatrous characteristics.
First,
as opposed to idolatrous plurality, the name "Elohim" designates the one
God, rather than a set of gods distinct in their essence. The one God rules over
all the forces, there being no force in the world free of his control. Despite
the plurality of forces that He governs, there is no impairment of His
oneness.
Second,
as opposed to the idolatrous identification between god and the force that he
governs, the God of Israel, known as "Elohim," is in control of all the
forces in the world but is not identical with them: "All the forces emanate from
God, though He Himself is above them."
It
seems to me that Rihal's distinctions already find expression in the Torah's
opening verses. Already there we find the monotheistic message that
distinguishes between the religion of Israel and the other religions, precisely
with respect to the two points discussed by Rihal.
"In
the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without
form and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep" – so proclaims the
Torah in its opening verses.
A
question arises with respect to the first three words. Habit has blurred the
linguistic difficulty that they pose! "Elohim" is the plural form of the
word "El," and as such the rules of grammar demand a plural verb. Thus,
instead of "Bereishit bara Elohim," we might have expected "Bereishit
bar'u Elohim."
We
are not dealing here with a scribal error. In its opening words the Torah
proclaims the unity of the God of Israel, and that this unity is not impaired by
the fact that He governs all the forces in the universe. Put differently, the
plurality that is evident in this world does not necessitate a plurality of
gods, but rather all the forces emanate from the one God.
The
closing words of verse 2 also sharpen the difference between Israel and the
nations of the world and reflect the difference regarding the second point
raised by Rihal.
There
is a famous Akkadian myth that is amazingly similar to the creation story in the
Torah, but the differences between them are the differences between a primitive
idolatrous outlook and the exalted and eternal understanding of
Judaism.
The
myth relates that in the beginning there was primordial matter called "Afsu,"
the god of the sweet waters of the deep, and countering it "Tamet," the goddess
of the salty waters of the deep; it was their union that gave rise to all the
gods of nature. Later, Tamet wanted to kill all the gods, and the god Murdokh
went out to fight against her, and in the wake of his victory, he was recognized
as the supreme god of Babel and all of Mesopotamia. He then sliced Tamet's body
into two, forming from it heaven and earth.
Much
may be learned from this myth. For example, we see the disharmony that the
authors of this myth copied from our world to the world of the gods. These
authors were unable to rise up above mundane reality in which the diverse forces
clash and struggle with each other (fire burns, water extinguishes fire, etc.).
They therefore concluded that the gods who govern these forces must be
struggling against one another, this struggle being reflected in the reality of
this world.
For
our purposes, there is great similarity between the primordial waters (some of
which are called Tamet) and the expressions: "and darkness upon the face of the
deep" and "and the spirit of God moved over the surface of the waters." There is
also great similarity between the description of the division of the body of the
goddess Tamet (which is itself the waters of the deep – as is evident from the
continuation of the myth) into two and the formation of the heaven and the earth
(which also has water) from those two pieces, as well as the description in the
Torah's creation story of the division of the waters from the waters and the
formation thereby of the heaven and the earth.
As
was noted above, however, the differences are far greater than the
similarities.
As
in the Akkadian myth, in the Torah's account, the waters are described as the
primordial matter from which the heaven and the seas were created, and it is the
waters that give rise to the fish and birds (as the myth puts it, the gods of
the waters create the other gods). What cannot be ignored, however, is that in
the Torah's account above all of these things there is God, and that all these
things are merely clay in the hands of the potter – "and the spirit of God moved
over the surface of the waters." The words "moved over" are
precise!
God
is not to be identified with the waters, and the separation of the waters is not
a separation of the body of God; similarly, the creatures that come into being
are not born from the gods.
The
one God as described in the Torah's account of creation is above the world and
acts upon it. The distinction between God and the forces found in this world is
already highlighted in the opening words of the Torah, and it is reflected, as
Rihal argues, in God's most universal name –
"Elohim."
THE
TETRAGRAMMATON
A
more exact and more lofty name is to be found in the form known as the
Tetragrammaton (Yud-Keh-Vav-Keh). This is a proper noun, which can only
be indicated by attributes, but has no location, and was formerly unknown. If He
was commonly styled "Elohim," the Tetragrammaton was used as special
name. This is as if one asked: Which God is to be worshipped, the sun, the moon,
the heaven, the signs of the zodiac, any star, fire, a spirit, or celestial
angels, etc.; each of these, taken singly, has an activity and force, and causes
growth and decay? The answer to this question is: "The Lord," just as if one
would say: A. B., or a proper name, as Ruben or Simeon, supposing that these
names indicate their personalities. (IV, 1)
Rihal makes a daring assertion that the relationship between the
Tetragrammaton and the rest of the names is the relationship between an
attribute and a personal name. From this perspective, a personal name is not
merely a conventional symbol, but rather it represents and teaches about the
very essence of that which bears the name. So, too, Rihal writes in another
passage:
The
Rabbi: All names of God, save the Tetragrammaton, are predicates and attributive
descriptions, derived from the way His creatures are affected by His decrees and
measures.
(II, 2)
We noted in the introduction above that the function of a name can be
understood in one of two ways. Here, with the Tetragrammaton, Rihal tries to
climb up from the second definition, which asserts that a name is a description
attached to a certain being, based on its actions, functions, and the way it
relates to its surroundings, to the first definition, which sees a name as
establishing the essence of that which bears the name, regardless of its
surroundings.
The attributive descriptions of a person stem from the role that he plays
and the actions that he performs in the world. An evil man is called by that
term on account of his words or actions that are of an evil nature. A school
principal is called by that name owing to the function that he fills and the
role that he bears. A person's personal name, on the other hand, does not relate
to the role that he plays or the way that he conducts himself. Regardless of all
these factors, the person is the name and the name is the
person.
All this notwithstanding, the distinction between an attribute and a
personal name is of great significance even with respect to those on the outside
who call the thing or the being by its name.
To refer to a person by one of his attributes does not require an
intimate and unmediated encounter with him. Anyone passing by a school and
wanting to call out to the principal so that he will look out at him from his
office window can call out, "Mr. Principal," even if the two had never before
met. Logic dictates that the school has a principal, and this universal logic
allows every passerby to recognize not the specific person filling this position
in a particular school, but the function that he fills
there.
If, however, that passerby would want to call to the principal by his
name, he would be unable to do so unless he had met him or at least someone who
had met him and knows him. And even then, even if he knows his name, he would
hesitate to use it if there were no basis for familiarity and unmediated
encounter with him.
Calling someone by his personal name reflects an unmediated encounter and
an intimate familiarity with him. A person's title embodies the public
connections that he has with his environment, whereas his personal name reflects
his essence that wishes to encounter another person in an unmediated manner,
without barriers.
This distinction exposes the profound difference between the nations of
the world and the people of Israel, in that Israel alone bears the
Tetragrammaton:
The
Khazar king: How can I individualize a being if I am not able to point to it and
can only prove its existence by its actions?
The
Rabbi: It can be designated by prophetic or visionary means. Demonstration can
lead astray. Demonstration was the mother of heresy and destructive ideas….
There are differences in the ways of demonstration, of which some are more
extended than others. Those who go to the utmost length are the philosophers,
and the ways of their arguments led them to teach of a Supreme Being which
neither benefits nor injures, and knows nothing of our prayers, offerings,
obedience, or disobedience, and that the world is as eternal as He himself. None
of them applies a distinct proper name to God, except he who hears His address,
command, or prohibition, approval for obedience, and reproof for disobedience.
He bestows on Him some name as a designation for Him who spoke to him, and he is
convinced that He is the Creator of the world from nothing. The first man would
never have known Him if He had not addressed, rewarded and punished him, and had
not created Eve from one of his ribs. This gave him the conviction that this was
the Creator of the world, whom he designated by words and attributes, and styled
"Lord." Without this, he would have been satisfied with the name Elohim,
neither perceiving what He was, nor whether He was a unity or many, whether He
was cognizant of individuals or not. Cain and Abel were made acquainted with the
nature of His being by the communications of their father as well as by
prophetic intuition. Then Noah, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Moses and the prophets
called Him intuitively "Lord," as also did the people, having been taught by
tradition that His influence and guidance were with men. His influence also
being with the pious, they comprehended Him by means of intermediaries called:
glory, Shekhina, dominion, fire, cloud, likeness, form, "the appearance of the
bow," (Yechezkel 1:28), etc. For they proved to them that He had spoken
to them, and they styled it: Glory of God. Occasionally they addressed the holy
ark by the name of God, as it is written: "Rise up, O Lord," (Bamidbar
10:35, 36), when they made a start, and "Return, O Lord" when they halted,
or "God is gone up with a shout, the Lord with the sound of the trumpet"
(Tehillim 47:6). With all this, only the ark of the Lord is meant.
Sometimes the name "Lord" was applied to the connecting link between God and
Israel, as it is written: "Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate you?"
(Tehillim 139:21). By "haters of the Lord" are meant those who hate the
name, or covenant, or the law of God. For there exists no connection between God
and any other nation, as He pours out His light only on the select people. They
are accepted by Him, and He by them. He is called "the God of Israel," while
they are "the people of the Lord," and "the people of the God of Abraham." (IV, 3)
We have already discussed the differences between the god of Aristotle
and the God of Abraham, all of them focused on the fundamental principle of
revelation.
In the aforementioned passage, the Khazar king asks the Rabbi who can use
the Tetragrammaton, and the Rabbi surveys the history of God's revelation to man
from the time of creation down to the formation of the people of
Israel.
Abraham, as Rihal himself notes, came to recognize God through
philosophical speculation and reason, reaching the conclusion: "Can this palace
not have an owner?" But Abraham's recognition of God did not stop here: "The
owner of the palace looked out at him and said to him: 'I am the owner of the
palace.' So, too, when the patriarch Abraham said: 'Can this world not have an
owner,' the Holy One, blessed be He, looked out at him and said: 'I am the owner
of the world'" (Bereishit Rabba 39:1).
Perhaps
this was Abraham's point of view when divine power and unity dawned upon him
prior to the revelation accorded to him. As soon as this took place, he gave up
all his speculations and only strove to gain favor of God, having ascertained
what this was and how and where it could be obtained. The Sages explain the
words: 'And he brought him forth abroad' (Bereishit 15) thus: Give up
your horoscopy! This means: Forsake astrology as well as any other doubtful
study of nature. (IV, 27)
At this moment, Abraham moved from recognizing God through the name of
Elohim to recognizing Him through the Tetragrammaton. Abraham was no
longer the passerby who understood through reason that the palace must have an
owner. He met the owner of the palace and spoke with Him, and from then on he
even knew His name.
Revelation and Divine providence, as they are described by Rihal in the
aforementioned passage, are the foundation for using the Tetragrammaton, and
Israel, who of all the nations were privileged to receive these two Divine
gifts, are also privileged to relate to God through the
Tetragrammaton.
The other nations who did not attain to revelation – "For there exists no
connection between God and any other nation, as He pours out His light only on
the select people" - and are not subject to Divine providence – "We see them
left to nature and chance by which their prosperity or misfortune are
determined, but not by an influence which proves to be of divine origin alone" –
can only comprehend God (when they succeed in doing so) by way of speculation
and reason – "logic dictates." Therefore, they are not authorized to use, nor do
they even recognize, the Tetragrammaton.
God's "personal name" is too exalted for man to fully understand, and
therefore its significance and essence with respect to Israel, who use that
name, lies in the very fact that it is a personal name that demands presence and
closeness. This is the way that Rihal explains the dialogue between Moshe and
God at the burning bush, regarding His name: "Why should they ask concerning
things they are unable to grasp?… Say to them Eh’yeh, which means: 'I am
that I am,' the existing one, existing for you whenever you seek me" (III, 5).
The gap between the unmediated encounter with God and the encounter based
on logic and speculation, which is reflected in the relationship between the
name Elohim and the Tetragrammaton, is also what establishes the
intensity that accompanies religious experience. Relating to God by way of His
personal name reflects intimacy and close relations, which create mutual
devotion and fidelity between the two sides.
The
Khazar king: Now I understand the difference between Elohim and the
Tetragrammaton, and I see how far the God of Abraham is different from that of
Aristotle. Man yearns for the Tetragrammaton as a matter of love, taste, and
conviction, while attachment to Elohim is the result of speculation. A
feeling of the former kind invites its votaries to give their life for His sake,
and to prefer death to His absence. Speculation, however, makes veneration only
a necessity as long as it entails no harm, but bears no pain for its sake. I
would, therefore, excuse Aristotle for thinking lightly about the observation of
the law, since he doubts whether God has any cognizance of it. (IV,
16)
According to Rihal, when a Jew turns to God using the formula instituted
by Chazal, "Blessed are You, O Lord," he proclaims that he is a member of
that people who receive God's light, His revelation, His word, and His
providence, on the one hand, and his yearning and craving to continue this
unmediated encounter between him and his Creator, on the other. Great indeed is
the difference between "the gods of the peoples who are idols" and the "God of
Abraham" – the Lord, God of Israel.
(Translated
by David Strauss)
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