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TORAH LISHMAH
– A NEW
HORIZON
By Rav Elyakim
Krumbein
Shiur #1: Why Our Generation Needs Torah
Lishmah
A. Contemporary Torah Study: Tradition
and its Neglect
Our generation struggles a good deal in its attitude toward Torah
study. Thank God, there are many
who engage in Torah, but many also question the significance of Torah in their
lives. Many feel a sense of
commitment, but there is also an overbearing sense of alienation. The perceived disconnect between Torah
and the areas of meaning and relevance in real life prevents students from
experiencing joy, fulfillment and satisfaction, and also diminishes from their
intellectual achievement in Torah.
Different strategies have been proposed to deal with this problem. Today, we seem to be witnessing the
emergence of an approach calling for new methods in learning Torah, specifically
with regard to Gemara. Methods
drawing inspiration from the world of the sciences and literature have begun to
spread. Each halakhic topic is
expected, methodologically, to reveal its experiential, inner core and
philosophical depth through the use of these media.
What distinguishes our generation in
this regard is that the new approaches do not add a new dimension onto the
accepted approaches to learning, but rather seek to replace and supplant
them. Modern-day teachers and
students question the power of the traditional style of learning, which has been
transmitted from one generation to the next for millennia, and prefer
approaching the sources on an entirely new basis, asking questions that have
never before been asked. Typical of
this approach is a comment attributed to a certain contemporary Rosh
Yeshiva claiming that when a generation does not study in the method that
specifically suits its needs, this constitutes bittul Torah (taking time
away from Torah study). One would
be hard pressed to find even an echo of such a concept in earlier
generations.
While we must look favorably upon the shedding of new light on Torah, the
movement away from traditional learning turns out to be a failure, from many
perspectives. For example, let us
consider one point which might seem peripheral, namely, that the new techniques
are impotent when it comes to drawing halakhic conclusions from the Talmud. Presumably, those who utilize these
methods would agree. When they
confront a practical halakhic issue and must determine how to act “in accordance
with the Torah that they teach you” (Devarim 17:11), they turn to the
rulings reached through the accepted methods of learning, and to poskim
who are experts in the analysis and modes of decision-making that have guided
scholars since time immemorial.
Does this not suffice to demonstrate the centrality of the traditional
Beit Midrash? Does it not
indicate that those who would replace the learning tradition inevitably miss
some of Torah’s vital heartbeats?
Further reflection upon the new situation that has arisen causes us even
greater unease. We sense that our
ancestors and rabbis of old connected with their Torah with every fiber of their
soul, even though that same Torah seems to us moderns to be riddled with
technicalities. Why did they not
feel the problems that trouble us?
Were our predecessors in the chain of tradition more detached from the
depth of life than we?
Consider the following, real-life description that appears in Avot
De-Rabbi Natan (Nuscha 1, chapter 6):
At the time when a Torah scholar
enters the city, do not say, “I don’t need him”; rather, go to him. And don’t sit with him on the couch,
chair or bench, but rather sit before him on the ground, and everything that
comes from his mouth – accept it upon yourself with dread, fear, trembling and
awe, the way your ancestors accepted [the Torah] at Mount Sinai with dread,
fear, trembling and awe.
Replacing the “bride” under the Torah
canopy is an abdication, a surrender, and an evasion of responsibility. Distancing ourselves from our learning
tradition means severing ourselves from our roots. One contemporary Rosh Yeshiva and
profound Jewish thinker expressed it this way:
The entire concept of “yeshiva”
is “zikna” (“aging”). It is
impossible to study Torah only from young people or only from ourselves. One who is not prepared to learn the
Torah of the Ketzot, Reb Chayim, Reb Shimon and the Avi Ezri has no connection to Torah, because being
connected to Torah means being connected to the merit of our ancestors, and this
is the aspect of zikna…
One who
is not prepared to be part of that tradition and thinks he can begin the Torah
by himself, one who is not prepared to reach that intimacy with the world of
Torah and with Judaism, one who wants to be an individualist and remain
alienated, and study like a “maskil” – he
will never be a ben Torah.
Our
modern confusion should alert us to the possibility that we are the victims of
some profound disorder, some internal as-yet undiagnosed distortion. Rav Kook writes:
Just as
the healthy person desires life and does not search for reasons and proofs for
it, whereas the patient suffering emotional illness, who is close to suicide, is
mired in doubts concerning the purpose of life, similarly, one with a healthy
soul loves Torah and its studies with heart and soul, and a single word of Torah
– even involving the minutiae of the scribes – is more precious to him than any
fortune, and only when the spiritual foundation takes ill will he come to say,
“This passage suits me, and this one doesn’t.” (Orot Ha-Torah
6:10)
Love for
Torah ought to be both spontaneous and existential, and not conditional upon
finding a close connection between all its laws and any corresponding
ideas. Modifications in the
fundamentals of Talmudic logic bespeak a certain sense of despair from returning
to that natural bond with the Torah.
At the same time, we cannot deny that the problem exists. Our generation cannot be blamed for the
fact that what was apparently taken for granted by Chazal is today
very rare. Assuming that we adhere
to the chain of transmission received from previous generations – what are we to
do? What are our chances of finding
meaning within that chain?
This last paragraph brings us to an important question: to whom is this
series intended? It is lovingly
dedicated to anyone for whom it will be useful, anyone who seeks to delve into
one of the exciting topics relevant to the life of every yeshiva student or
former yeshiva student, and indeed any Jew devoted to the study of Torah. But I know that the quandary described
above is common to many people, and my hope is that some of them will be
learning with us in this program.
Why should these people participate in this series? To be sure, I can’t promise them more
than a struggle, in which I will try to help and guide to best of my ability
over the course of our learning together.
We will not aim for a neat recipe or a clear solution, but first of all
for wisdom, and from there – directions of thought which can suggest actual
strategies. For I believe that in the topic of Torah lishmah (Torah
[study] for its own sake) one can find an approach – and perhaps a key – to the
understanding of our connection with the world of Torah
learning.
B.
Torah Lishmah, by
Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm
Before beginning our study, it is worthwhile to first familiarize
ourselves with the research that has already been done on this topic. Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm’s work, Torah Lishmah:
Torah for Torah’s Sake in the Works of Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin and his
Contemporaries (New York, 1989), is a thorough, comprehensive treatment of
the topic of Torah learning, from its various halakhic and philosophical
angles. The book revolves around
the figure of Rav Chayim of Volozhin and his famous work Nefesh
Ha-chayim. In effect, however,
Rabbi Lamm’s
work explores far beyond Rav Chayim and his approach, as it addresses the proper
place of Torah study in the life of a Jew according to traditional Jewish
thinkers of all generations. The
name of this book alludes to the issue that stands at the center of this entire
discussion, namely, the question of how one should perceive the purpose of one’s
learning, and toward which goals one should be aiming.
A number of reviewers critiqued different points in the book, but nobody
denies its primacy or importance.
Ongoing study of the material that Rabbi Lamm assembled and arranged
continues to raise questions and invite further discussion. Our study will rely heavily on
Rabbi Lamm’s
work, though I wish to evaluate this topic from a new angle, and take a somewhat
different approach.
C. The Structure
We will divide our study into two sections: sources until Rav Chayim of
Volozhin (the point at which Rabbi Lamm’s research ends), and those
after him. At the beginning
(shiurim 2-3), we will pose a basic question concerning the concept of
“lishmah” as it applies to
Torah, and in light of this question we will proceed to study the relevant
sources. We will pay particular
attention to the writings of Rav Chayim of Volozhin. In the second stage of our series, we
will emphasize the teachings of Rav Kook.
We will examine Torah
lishmah by exploring both
traditional sources and the social and philosophical context of this
topic.
Let us now begin our study with an important source, which contrasts the
two different understandings of Torah lishmah.
D. The
Nefesh Ha-chayim on
Torah Lishmah
We cite below the key passage in Rav Chayim Volozhin’s work Nefesh
Ha-chayim, taken from
chapters 2-3 of the fourth and final section (“sha’ar”) of the book, a
section devoted entirely to the lofty ideal of Torah learning. Chronologically, we are giving
precedence to one of the later sources, but before we study the earlier texts, I
would like to present Rav Chayim’s comments as a point of departure for our
discussion. Other sources relevant
to our subject generally follow a simple approach and explain the concept only
according to the particular outlook of the author, without any
deliberation. One of the unique
features of these paragraphs in Nefesh Ha-chayim is that they
deliberately present the question surrounding the definition of Torah
lishmah as a topic that warrants discussion and regarding which different
views exist. In chapter 2, Rav
Chayim presents an understanding of Torah lishmah which he does not
accept. Rabbi Lamm refers to this approach as
the “religious” approach, meaning, that it relates to the service of the
Almighty. As we read this segment,
we should pay close attention to the objections Rav Chayim raises against this
view:
Chapter 2
Regarding the issue of Torah
lishmah – the clear truth is that “lishmah” does not mean
deveikut (“attachment” to God) as most people currently think. For our Sages commented in the Midrash
(Shocher Tov) that King David a”h asked God that one who studies
Tehillim should be considered by Him as one who studies [the mishnaic
tractates] Negaim and Ohalot. Studying the halakhot in the
Talmud with intensity and exertion is thus a higher and more beloved matter than
the recitation of Tehillim.
And if we say that “lishmah”
means specifically [study for the sake of attaining] deveikut, and the
entire concept of studying Torah lies specifically in this – is there a more
wondrous deveikut than properly reciting Tehillim all
day?
Furthermore, who is to say that the
Almighty agreed to his [King David’s] request on this matter? We do not find in their [the Sages’]
writings the response with which He answered to his
request…
Furthermore, for the purpose of
deveikut it would suffice for there to be a single tractate, chapter, or
Mishna which one studies all his life with devotion. But this is not what we find in [the
comments of] our Sages (Sukka 28a) who said about Rabbi Yochanan Ben
Zakai that he did not leave [unstudied] any Scripture, Mishna, Halakha or
Aggada, etc. This is because
he always had in his mind that he has not fulfilled the obligation of studying
Torah for its own sake with what he had learned until that point. He therefore applied himself diligently
his entire life to always add more learning, every day and every
hour…
This also follows logically. For there are many laws in the Talmud
that when a person studies them, he must intensively focus his thought and mind
on their physical matters, such as kinin [the laws of birds consecrated
as sacrifices] and pitchei nida [the calculations concerning the onset of
menstruation], which constitute “essential precepts of Halakha”
(Avot 3:18), or the give-and-take in the Talmud, and the principles
governing the laws of migu [trusting a litigant on the basis of
alternative claims he could have made] that involve deceitful claims the liar
could have made. And it is all but
impossible that he will also experience complete, proper deveikut at that
time.
Let us now proceed to chapter 3, where
the author describes the true meaning of Torah lishmah, according to his
view. The perspective put forth in
chapter 3, according to Rabbi
Lamm, represents the “cognitive” definition of
lishmah:
Chapter
3
But the
truth is that the concept of “lishmah” means “for the sake of Torah,” and
this means, as the Rosh z”l explained Rabbi Elazar ben Tzadok’s comment
(Nedarim 62a): “‘Do things for the sake of their Maker’ – for the sake of
the Almighty, who made everything for His own sake; ‘and speak in them for their
sake’ – all your speech and discussion in words of Torah shall be for the sake
of the Torah, such as in order to know and understand, and to increase knowledge
and analysis, and not for contention or to pride
oneself.”
He [the Rosh] was careful to explain
the shift in Rabbi Elazar ben Tzadok’s terminology. Regarding performance [of
mitzvot] he said, “for the sake of their Maker,” whereas regarding speech
he said “for their sake.”
Therefore, with respect to performance he [the Rosh] explained, “for the
sake of the Almighty, who made everything for His sake,” and with respect to
learning, he explained “for the sake of the Torah.”
His intention is clear. Namely, performing a mitzva must certainly be – in order to be at the
highest standard – with deveikut and the purest of thoughts in accordance
with one’s intelligence and understanding, so that he may be praised up above to
bring about the perfection of the upper worlds, forces and orders. This is “for the sake of their Maker”:
“for all that the Lord made – was for His own sake” (Mishlei 16:4), and the Sages explained “for His own
praise.”
And
although even regarding mitzvot, the
primary and indispensable component is the concrete action, and the extra
intention and purity of thought is not indispensable at all, as properly
explained above at the end of section 1 with God’s help, nevertheless, the
sanctity and purity of one’s thought combines with the concrete action to arouse
and achieve greater perfections in the worlds than if the mitzva is
performed without deveikut and
sanctity of thought.
However,
with regard to a person’s conduct at the time of studying Torah, the laws and
halakhot of
the commandments, he said, “speak in them” – meaning, speaking in matters of
mitzvot and their halakhot should be done – “for their sake” – meaning, for the sake of
the words of Torah, that is, to know and to understand and to increase knowledge
and analysis…
This is
why the Talmud concludes regarding Rabban Yochanan ben Zakai, who did not leave
[any subject in Torah unstudied] etc. – “in fulfillment of that which is stated,
‘I am capable of bequeathing to those who love me’ (Mishlei
8:21)…” It is clear from that
entire section [in Sefer Mishlei] that
this statement is made by the holy Torah itself, who sings jubilantly “in the
outdoors” that it has the capacity to bequeath and grant proper reward for
whoever engages in and studies it out of actual love for it itself – meaning, to
increase knowledge and analysis, and this is [what is meant by] “those who love
me.”
The lishmah of
chapter 2, where Torah study serves as a means of attaining mystical attachment
to the Almighty, was very widespread during the time of Rav Chayim, according to
his testimony in the same chapter.
This approach was certainly the accepted outlook of the Chasidim, with
whom Rav Chayim argues on many pages throughout Nefesh Ha-chayim. Rav Chayim recognizes the legitimacy of
the desire for this kind of closeness, and even encourages it. In fact, he goes even further in
explaining the significance of this deveikut,
claiming that pure thoughts such as these achieve the loftiest goal of
Kabbalistic teaching – perfecting the upper worlds. However, in his view, the proper place
for this desire of “perfecting the upper worlds” is mitzva
performance. With regard to Torah
learning, by contrast, this objective undercuts the intellectual achievement,
both quantitatively and qualitatively.
The emotion and spiritual focus diminish from the clarity of thought that
is so critical for in-depth comprehension.
Rav Chayim therefore contends that the unique quality of lishmah in the context of Torah study differs
fundamentally from the lishmah of other mitzvot. Namely, the purpose of learning Torah is
the wisdom itself; the learning is its own purpose, and not a means for some
other goal, admirable and lofty as that goal may be. The Rosh, upon whose comments Rav Chayim
bases his approach, defines Torah lishmah in strictly cognitive terms –
“to know, to understand, to increase knowledge and
analysis.”
In our next shiur we will study the Nefesh Ha-chayim’s
remarks further. But I would like
to conclude this introductory essay by posing a question about this passage in
Nefesh Ha-chayim. Let us
return to Rav Chayim’s claims against the Chasidim. He claims that if the Chasidim are
correct in explaining “lishmah” to mean “for the sake of attaching
oneself to the Creator,” then it would have been possible, and even preferable,
to simply recite Tehillim all day instead of learning Torah. This claim works off the assumption that
reciting Tehillim does not qualify as Torah learning, at least as far as
this discussion is concerned. However, even within this assumption,
Rav Chayim’s argument seems difficult to understand. The question he addresses is how to
define “lishmah” in reference to
Torah study. Meaning, when a person
studies Torah, what should his objective be? The Chasidim gave their answer to this
question. Seemingly, the obligation
to study Torah is the basic assumption upon which this entire discussion
rests. The question relates only to
the intention that should accompany this central religious act. One cannot claim that according to the
Chasidim’s view it would be preferable not to learn but to do something else,
because all parties to this debate agree that there exists an obligation to
learn!
I believe that the answer to this question teaches something critically
important regarding this topic which we are now beginning to study – as we will
discuss more fully in the next shiur.
Translated by David
Silverberg
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