Avodah Mailing List

Volume 07 : Number 029

Wednesday, April 25 2001

• Re: Davening in Biblical vs Mishnaic Hebrew
• Re: Rambam and Yerushalmi
• Yirmiyoh's diqduq
• Re: mizmorim added before boruch sheomar
• Re: mizmorim added before boruch sheomar
• yom tov sheni
• Re: Rambam and Yerushalmi
• Re: Rambam and Yerushalmi
• Rambam and Yerushalmi
• Rambam and Yerushalmi
• elevators
• Re: Rambam and Yerushalmi
• RE: Rambam and Yerushalmi
• Re: Monogamy w/o marriage
• Shema Yidadmenu
• Re: FW: Shema Yidadmenu
• Fwd: RAV -15: "The Lonely Man of Faith"

R. Moshe Feldman: <The birchas ha'ilanos, as found (IIRC) in the Gemara 
Berachos and in S"A, refers to "ilanos tovos."    However, as ilan is lashon 
zachar, the Siddur Rinat Yisrael (and IIRC, some others too) changed the 
nusach to "ilanos tovim.">

That's not the only thing they change.  And, although the change is 
technially correct, it is not even a difference per se between Biblical and 
Mishnaic.  Hazal are normally quite maqpid on correct gender; I have never 
found a case in mss. of the Mishna where they use a feminine numeral for a 
masculine noun, something that almost no Israelis can do correctly.  But the 
ilanos tovos is a phenomenon agav g'roro in Mishnaic.

The more crucial change that many siddurim make is changing "hissar b'olamo 
k'lum," as it is in the g'moro, to "davar."  K'lum, of course, is a 
well-known word in Hazal Hebrew.  Only a confirmed Biblicist (like some of 
the self-appointed guardians of Hebrew) would see the need to "correct" it.  
So that is the more reliable yardstick to measure how fast and loose the 
publisher is playing with the matbea' hab'rokho.
Seth Mandel
_________________________________________________________________
Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com

At 03:42 PM 4/25/01 +0200, Eli Turkel wrote:
>>                           I don't know that it needs to be said that
>> many of the mekoros for the Rambam are from the Yerushalmi or midrashim
>> that were lost....

>Someone else wrote a while ago that Ri Migash followed by Rambam always
>paskened like the Bavli against the Yerushalmi.

>How does that square with this?

It doesn't. It's wrong.

Some posters quoted Abravanel decrying Yirmiyoh's deployment of diqduq.
whatever one thinks of that (and i do not see why we can't grant a waiver
to anybody with the good fortune to live before the s'faradi grammarians
invented the subject) i am surprised that no one points to some more
substantial "mistakes" in the novih, such as getting the churbon dates
wrong.  of course poroshonus is equal to the task but there is yet wonder
that a work b'ruach haq'qodesh should allow publically acknowledged error.

i might expand on this another time but i gotta go run and catch a plane
to london right now.

Mechy Frankel				W: (703) 588-7424
mechyfrankel@zdnetonebox.com		H: (301) 593-3949
michael.frankel@osd.mil

SM: <The brokhos of p'suqei d'zimra are specifically on "shirei Dovid
ben Yishai." This issue is raised by rishonim...: whether any t'hillim
that are said should not be included in the b'rokhos...>

R. Micha: <The berachah of Yishtabach itself says it's on "shiros
vesibechos David..." (I just noted the semichus, "vesishbechos", not
"vesishbachos"). Baruch She'amar doesn't mention shiros at all in its
chasimah! It's on "Melech mehullal batishbachos" -- the verbs are hallel
and shevach. I therefore could use more explanation of the shitah that
would only include shiros.>

I am not sure what issue you are quesioning.

Are you asking on what R. Mordechai said, that "Can one not say that
shir hamaalos mimaamakim is different as it is not a shir, rather more
like a psalm of beseeching? Who says that all 'kapitlach' of Tehillim
are classified as / called shir?" In that case, I don't understand where
he gets the idea that it has to be called shir either. In any case it
is not from my post.

Or are you asking about what you quoted from me? In that case: who was
talking only about the hasima? In Borukh SheOmar it specifically says
"uvshirei Dovid n'hallelkha... bishvaho uvzimro nodakh n'shabb'hakh"
That's pretty specific. That's the Rambam's girsa; R. Sa'adya has
"b'shirei David n'hallelkha," without a vav, so it for sure is not going
on what was said before, and even according to the way the siddur has the
punctuation, we still mention shirei David 'avdekha; the Roqeah says there
"hu T'hillim." So we mention specifically David's mizmorim in both Borukh
SheOmar and Yishtabbah. And that is the basis for the Tur in siman 51
"v'yesh om'rim happ'suqim shemosifim qodem Borukh SheOmar, uvAshk'naz
nohagim lomar Borukh SheOmar miyyad v'aharav kol hamizmorim... v'hakhi
mistabber."

Seth Mandel

On Wed, Apr 25, 2001 at 05:51:29PM -0000, Seth Mandel wrote:
: R. Micha: <The berachah of Yishtabach itself says it's on "shiros
: vesibechos David..." ... Baruch She'amar doesn't mention shiros at
: all in its chasimah! ...

: Or are you asking about what you quoted from me? In that case: who was
: talking only about the hasima?

Your question would be a good response if I were saying that the berachah
is only on sishbachos. It was not my intention to do that. If I was
unclear, I apologize.

I'm arguing that the berachah must primarily be about whatever thought
is in the chasimah. But in either case, the focus of the berachah
can't exclude what is named in the chasimah. And the chasimos of these
berachos refer to sishbachos. The lashon of Yishtabach is clear that we
mean sishbachos that aren't, or arent' necessarily, shiros.

So I am at a loss trying to understand those rishonim who say that the
berachah is only on shiros. The chasimah clearly isn't only about shiros,
so why would the berachah only cover shiros?

-mi

-- 
Micha Berger                 Come to the AishDas Yom Iyun on Avodas Hashem
micha@aishdas.org            Sunday,  April 29th 2001,  12:00 - 2:00pm  in
<http://www.aishdas.org>     Kew Gardens Hills, Queens NY!  For more info,
(973) 916-0287               see <http://www.aishdas.org/yomiyun.html>.

From: Eli Turkel <Eli.Turkel@kvab.be>
>> 2) YT Sheini Shel Rosh Hashanah in EY.  If I can find an unpublished
>> manuscript from the Kalir era showing that only one day of YT was observed
>> in EY for RH, can we revise that practice?

> Why be theoretical. It is clear from the Baal Hamaor that in fact they
> did keep only one day until the talmidei haRif came and changed it.

Actually I'm being theoretical because I am not aware of this Ba'al
Mamaor! <smile> But I was aware that Kallir wrote only one day's worth
of piyyutim for RH.

All kidding aside, this theoretical point is necessary to say that:
"According to this Shach we can NOW over-rule the talmidei haRif IF/WHEN
we discover a document that they did not see." because we can say:
"Had they only seen this document, they would have ruled otherwise."

BTW, if this Ba'al Hamaor itself sets a precedent then how about this:
With the arrival of Talmidei Rema (i.e Eastern European and German
Ashkenazim to Israel) they overruled the Gra's minhag hamakom and now
Tefillin IS worn on chol hamoed {at least amongst Ashkenazim.} What's
wrong with that scenario?

Kol Tuv
Richard Wolpoe
Richard_Wolpoe@ibi.com
Richard_Wolpoe@alumnimail.yu.edu

In a message dated 4/25/01 10:45:52am EST, Eli.Turkel@kvab.be writes:
> Someone else wrote a while ago that Ri Migash followed by Rambam always
> paskened like the Bavli against the Yerushalmi.

The mokor that the Rambam rules like the Yerushalmi is the the MaHaRIK in 
Shoersh 100, and see "Darkei Sholo-m" (printed in Sdei Chemed) Klolei Rambam 
Uposkim Ois 39, see also Sdei Chemed Klolei Haposkim Simon 2, (Yad Malachi 
begining of Chelek Sheini).

Kol Tuv, 
Yitzchok Zirkind

"Yosef Gavriel and Shoshanah M. Bechhofer" wrote:
>>>                           I don't know that it needs to be said that
>>> many of the mekoros for the Rambam are from the Yerushalmi or midrashim
>>> that were lost....

>> Someone else wrote a while ago that Ri Migash followed by Rambam always
>> paskened like the Bavli against the Yerushalmi.
>> How does that square with this?

> It doesn't. It's wrong.

It's not that simple.  Unlike the Baalei haTosafoth, the Rambam had a
strong preference for explicit halacha psuka over deductions.  So that
if a Yerushalmi flatly stated a halacha, and the opposite conclusion is
implied but not stated in a Bavli, the Rambam might very well follow the
yerushalmi whereas the Baalei Hatosafoth would more likely follow the
Bavli.  I strongly recommend Rabbi Benedict's book harambam l'lo stiyah
min hatalmud for many illuminating comments on the Rambam's derech of
psak.

David Riceman

I learn so much from this group, I humbly offer the following, in the hope
that this is not well known, and at least some find it interesting:

>>                           I don't know that it needs to be said that
>> many of the mekoros for the Rambam are from the Yerushalmi or midrashim
>> that were lost. R. Menachem Mendel Kasher wrote a book called HaRambam
>> vehaMechilta deRashbi that shows this.

> Someone else wrote a while ago that Ri Migash followed by Rambam always
> paskened like the Bavli against the Yerushalmi.

Another example (from a Rav Frand tape on Sfiras HaOmer)

One evening, during the Sfira, the Beis HaLevi was davening marriv
from the amud. But he had a problem: he had forgotten to count the day
before, and couldn't say the bracha. (This, in itself is amazing, imho!
The Brisker forgetting to count?!?). So, he went over to a congregant,
and said, "Look, you don't say the brocha tonight, and I'll say it,
and I'll be motzi you."

This raises the immediate question: how can you do that? If someone is
not equalivalently obligated, can you be motzi someone else? Certainly,
the answer is yes, to at least some extent (e.g.: everyone who makes
kiddush in shul, and then makes it for their family at home) based on
the principle of arvis.

But to this extent? If you miss a day, you're out of it. It's not your
mitzvah anymore!

Someone (name I can't recall) had an opposing view based on a Yerushalmi.
There, the question was whether someone who is from a walled city can
be the reader of the Megilla in a non-walled city (a day earlier).
The Yerushalmi says, no. Can't do it. It's not his mitzvah. And this
someone applied it to the Omer situation.

But there's a disagreement. Someone else (whose name I also can't recall)
notes that the Rambam never mentions this Yerushalmi! And his conclusion
is that this Yerushalmi is _not_ the halacha that we follow. And so arvus
_does_ allow you to be motzi someone else on making the bracha l'Omer,
and, (presumably, but I can't recall if he mentioned this specifically)
reading the Megilla for someone else when it's not "your day".

FWIW

-- Eric

From: Eli Turkel <Eli.Turkel@kvab.be>
>>                           I don't know that it needs to be said that
>> many of the mekoros for the Rambam are from the Yerushalmi or midrashim
>> that were lost. R. Menachem Mendel Kasher wrote a book called HaRambam
>> vehaMechilta deRashbi that shows this.

> Someone else wrote a while ago that Ri Migash followed by Rambam always
> paskened like the Bavli against the Yerushalmi.

> How does that square with this?

Funny you should Ask!  I just asked R. Dr. E Kanarfogel (RDEK) the same
basic question during chol hamod Pesach.

It seems that the Rif brings in an occasional Yerushalmi.  The Rambam SEEMS
to follow the TY, but that of course is hard to know for sure because the
Rambam moits his sources.

It seems that the Ri Migash went further than his rebbe the Rif and his
talmid's talmid the Rambam.

-------------------------------------------------------

FWIW, further in the conversation, I re-iterated my hypothesis that
the Rambam did not write his "Yad" based upon any single text, rather
he combined all of the Torah he knew form all sources and if you will
"digested it" or "synthesized it". This is in stark contrast to seforim
like the Beis Yosef of the Aruch Hashulchan who quote sources point
by point.

IOW AIUI, the Rambam himself would be at times hard-pressed to explain how
he arrived at many conclusions, because he was probably processing many,
multiple, and diverse sources at the same time, or at times was quoting
his own rabbei'im who digested multiple sources. IOW there is a zeh v'zeh
v'zeh v'zeh ... goreim, and sometimes this can be difficult to trace.

------------------------------------------------------------
Just what IS the status of the Yerushalmi anyway?
Here are a set of approaches:
1A) The Bavli was basroi. Therefore if it is not in the Bavli, then it
does not matter. The Yerushalmi was completely superceded even when it
does not contradict the Bavli.
1B) The Bavli was basroi. Therefore Yerushalmi can never over-ride a
Bavli. But Yerushalmi MAY fill in some gaps
2) The Bavli was basroi. But when the Bavli was silent, it leaned on
the Yerushalmi.
3) The Bavli never saw the Yerushalmi. They are completely independent.
4) The Yerushalmi could have been equal to the Bavli, but it was not
preserved, transmitted, nor redacted as thoroughly.
5) TB and TY are equally authoritative in Halachah and hanghaga. But the
Bavli is superior pedagogically. (Dr. Agus might have said something like
this). IOW we learn the Bavli because it is richer, and more thorough,
but Halachically it is not more binding.

Here is an educated guess. Generally, Sephardi Rishonim would lean
towards 1-2-3. The Ashkenazim probably would lean towards 3-4-5.

Somehow - aisi, the Acharonim tended to blur these distinctions. When TB
became such a predominant limud, it became more and more authoritative,
too.

-----------------------------------------------------

Here's another thread:
What is the status of the Mehcilta/Sifra/Sifrei and Tosefta after the
redaction of the Mishna?

Best Regards,
Richard Wolpoe
Richard_Wolpoe@ibi.com (at Information Builders)
Richard_Wolpoe@alumnimail.yu.edu

I've been following the discussion on elevators and the corollary
discussion on weight/added weight as it relates to m'lacha on Shabbat.I
would point out that the Hatam Sofer (Likutim #97) in his analysis
of riding a locomotive on Shabbat does not address the weight of the
passenger (see especially dibbur hamatchil ha'yotze mid'vareinu). On
the other hand rav Moshe Feinstein zt"l (Igrot Moshe O.H. vol. 5 #26)
does say the added weight is an issue.

Stuart fischman

Rich Wolpoe wrote:
> FWIW, further in the conversation, I re-iterated my hypothesis that the Rambam
> did not write his "Yad" based upon any single text, rather he combined all of 
> the Torah he knew form all sources and if you will "digested it" or 
> "synthesized it".

There is a vort from the Kotzker Rebbe saying exactly that.

> Here is an educated guess. Generally, Sephardi Rishonim would lean 
> towards 1-2-3. The Ashkenazim probably would lean towards 3-4-5.

I think everyone, even Ashkenazim, lean towards 1-2-3.
     
> What is the status of the Mehcilta/Sifra/Sifrei and Tosefta after the 
> redaction of the Mishna?

That of a baraisa.
     
Gil Student

Rich:
>> Just what IS the status of the Yerushalmi anyway?
>> Here is an educated guess. Generally, Sephardi Rishonim would lean 
>> towards 1-2-3. The Ashkenazim probably would lean towards 3-4-5.

Gil:
>I think everyone, even Ashkenazim, lean towards 1-2-3.

Rich:
I'd love to see some definitve sources. AISI this is a popular
mis-perception.  Tosfos for sure held from Yershalmi, which Ashkenazic
Rishonim did not?

 

Rich:     
>> Here's another thread:
>> What is the status of the Mehcilta/Sifra/Sifrei and Tosefta after the 
>> redaction of the Mishna?

Gil:
>That of a baraisa.
     
Rich:
Which begs the question:
And just what is the status of Braisso that was rejected by rebbe from the
Mishnah?


From: Eli Turkel <Eli.Turkel@kvab.be>
> Someone else wrote a while ago that Ri Migash followed by Rambam always
> paskened like the Bavli against the Yerushalmi.
> How does that square with this?

Similarly, people are struggling with the Beis Yosef who did not always
follow his own rule to pasken like his proverbial bes din of three....

We have essentially two choices:
1) accept the rule or paradigm literally as is, and pilpulistically make
everything fit.
or
2) come up with a rule that is more accurate and inclusive with fewer
exceptions, even though it might not fit the words so literally.

-----------------

Illustration:
The Torah says:
1) 70 souls descended to Egypt
2) Count 50 days of Sefira
3) Give 40 lashes

One approach (Midrashic) is to maintain that these numbers are indeed round
numbers and darshen things like the birth of Yocheved right at the gates of
Egypt.  And this also explains Yocheved'sr predilection for making a career
of midwiffery at the tender age of 5!

Here is another approach:

Revise our rigid literallness and realize that sometimes numbers are whole
and sometimes they are "ad v'lo ad bichlal" and that in these cases 70 means
69, 50 means 49 and 40 means 39. 
So nu you'll ask:
Q: How can we tell when the Torah's number is whole or
up-to-but-not-including? 
A: Simple, we have TSBP, (btw not really needed with the 70/69)...   
Now if you now ask:
Q: Nu why doesn't the Midrsah or aggeditta just say so?
A: If you had the power to grow breasts on a man would you give him money
instead? <smile>

Kol Tuv,
Richard Wolpoe
Richard_Wolpoe@ibi.com

Moshe Feldman wrote on Areivim:
>Reform rabbi officiated.  R. Moshe felt that this would not be
>considered a marriage and therefore not necessarily require a get. R. 
>Henkin disagreed. But that is a case of actual intent to marry;
>contrast with the case at hand, where a man and woman don't wish to
>get married (he can't commit, etc.); in that case, I believe that
>even R. Henkin would agree.

I believe that R. Henkin was also discussing common law marriages where 
there was no actual ceremony, but I may be mistaken on this.

Gil Student

From: Joelirich@aol.com [mailto:Joelirich@aol.com]
> Tosfot in sotah(2:1) raises the question as to how we can say 
> shema yikadmenu if we know that the zivug is anounced 40 days 
> before ytzirat havlad.  Any guesses?

The gemara also says that Hashem decrees beforehand "sadeh zu l'ploni."  If
so, why do we pray for parnassa, and how does bechira chofshis (of being
rewarded for our actions, to the extent there is some reward b'hai alma) fit
in?

Presumably, the answer is that Hashem decrees sadeh zu or isha zu l'ploni,
only if ploni merits it; otherwise he'll get the sadeh or isha which is more
fitting for him if his bechira chofshis puts him on a lower madreiga.

Kol tuv,
Moshe

In a message dated 04/25/2001 5:32:32pm EST, MFeldman@CM-P.COM writes:
>> how we can ssay 
>> shema yikadmenu if we know that the zivug is anounced 40 days before ytzirat 
>> havlad.  Any guesses?
 
> The gemara also says that Hashem decrees beforehand "sadeh zu l'ploni."  If
> so, why do we pray for parnassa, and how does bechira chofshis (of being
> rewarded for our actions, to the extent there is some reward b'hai alma) fit
> in?
 
> Presumably, the answer is that Hashem decrees sadeh zu or isha zu l'ploni,
> only if ploni merits it; otherwise he'll get the sadeh or isha which is more
> fitting for him if his bechira chofshis puts him on a lower madreiga.
 
why isn't the gemora bothered by sadeh and bayit?

another excerpt in this series
    Steve Brizel
    Zeliglaw@aol.com

                   YESHIVAT HAR ETZION
      ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH (VBM)
INTRODUCTION TO THE PHILOSOPHY OF RAV SOLOVEITCHIK
                  by Rav Ronnie Ziegler
                            
         LECTURE #15: "The Lonely Man of Faith"
             Part 1 - Presenting the Problem

In this penetrating and original work, Rav Soloveitchik tackles a
number of major issues, the central ones being: A) man's dual role in
the world, and B) the possibility of religious existence in modern,
largely secular society. Along the way, he offers startling insights
on a host of other topics. Some of these ideas develop themes we have
already encountered in his other writings; here he places them into
broader perspective. Other ideas will be familiar to those who have read
"Halakhic Man" and especially "U-vikkashtem Mi- sham." In this sense,
"The Lonely Man of Faith" occupies a central place in the Rav's writings
and can be regarded as an overture to his entire oeuvre.

Instead of focusing on strands of his thought which appear here and
tracing their development, I will attempt in the coming lectures to bring
into sharp focus this essay's central line of argument. The essay's rich
range of ideas makes reading it a challenging and exhilarating endeavor,
but at the same time it often serves to obscure the main point. As we
will see below, "The Lonely Man of Faith" is finely crafted, with a clear
structure and progression of ideas. In today's lecture, I would like to
examine closely the Rav's introductory comments, where he delineates
both the goal and the method of this work. Once we understand how the
Rav himself defines the issue he wishes to address, we will use this
understanding to guide our reading of the rest of the essay, and at
the end we will return to see how he answers the questions he poses at
the beginning.

[Note: I will refer to "The Lonely Man of Faith" interchangeably as an
essay and as a book, since it was originally published in essay form
in the journal Tradition (Summer 1965) and subsequently in book form
(Doubleday, 1992; Aronson, 1996 - the Aronson edition is merely an
offprint of the Doubleday edition). Page and chapter references will
follow the Doubleday-Aronson version because these printings are much
more readily available than the original issue of Tradition.]

ADAM I AND ADAM II

Let me start by doing something unpardonable: trying to sum up the
main argument of "The Lonely Man of Faith" in a few short paragraphs.
Although this will perforce be inadequate and oversimplified, I think it
will aid us greatly in understanding the Rav's characterization of the
essay in its opening section. (If this summary is enigmatic, fear not;
we will later examine these ideas at length.)

Rav Soloveitchik proposes that the two accounts of the creation of man
(in chapters 1 and 2 of Bereishit) portray two types of man, two human
ideals. In their approaches to God, the world and the self, these roughly
parallel the two personae we examined in "Majesty and Humility" (lectures
#5 and #6). The first, whom we will term Adam I, is guided by the quest
for dignity, which is a surface social quality attained by control over
one's environment. He is a creative and majestic personality who espouses
a practical-utilitarian approach to the world. Adam II, on the other hand,
is guided by the quest for redemption, which is a quality of the depth
personality attained by control over oneself. He is humble and submissive,
and yearns for an intimate relationship with God and with his fellow
man in order to overcome his sense of incompleteness and inadequacy.
These differences carry over to the type of community each one creates:
the "natural work community" (Adam I) and the "covenantal faith community"
(Adam II).

God not only desires the existence of each of these personality types and
each of these communities, but actually bids each and every one of us to
attempt to embody both of these seemingly irreconcilable types within
ourselves. We must attempt to pursue both dignity and redemption. The
demand to be both Adam I and Adam II leads to a built-in tension in
the life of each person responsive to this call; and because one lives
with a constant dialectic, a continual oscillation between two modes of
existence, one can never fully realize the goals of either Adam I or Adam
II. Unable to feel totally at home in either community, man is burdened
by loneliness. Since this type of loneliness is inherent to one's very
being as a religious individual, the Rav terms it "ontological loneliness"
(ontological = relating to existence). In a sense, this kind of loneliness
is tragic; but since it is willed by God, it helps guide man to realize
his destiny and is ultimately a positive and constructive experience.

The contemporary man of faith, however, experiences a particular kind
of loneliness due to his historical circumstances, and this "historical
loneliness" is a purely negative phenomenon. Modern man, pursuant to his
great success in the realm of majesty-dignity, recognizes only the Adam
I side of existence, and refuses to acknowledge the inherent duality of
his being. Contemporary society speaks the language of Adam I, of cultural
achievement, and is unable or unwilling to understand the language of Adam
II, of the uniqueness and autonomy of faith. Worse, contemporary Adam I
has infiltrated and appropriated the realm of Adam II; he presents himself
as Adam II, while actually distorting covenantal man's entire message.

The details of this analysis, as well as possible courses of action in
light of it, will occupy us in the next several lectures.

A UNIVERSAL MESSAGE

We are now in a position to understand the Rav's description of the
nature of "The Lonely Man of Faith" in its opening paragraphs. Firstly,
from the very title, it is evident that the essay's message is universal.
"The Lonely Man of Faith" refers to any religious faith, not just to
Judaism. The dilemma of faith in the modern world applies equally to
all religions (or at least to Western religions, which were the Rav's
concern; he had little interest in Eastern religion). It should also be
noted that the essay addresses men and women equally; nowhere here does
the Rav distinguish between them. The word "man" in the title should
therefore be understood as "person." The essay's universalistic bent
is further expressed in the choice of the text which stands at its
center: the story of the creation of Adam and Eve, the parents of ALL
mankind. Significantly, references to Judaism and Jewish sources appear
almost exclusively in the footnotes. Finally, it is worth mentioning that
the essay originated in a series of lectures sponsored by the National
Institute of Mental Health, delivered before an audience comprised of
both Jews and non-Jews.

A PERSONAL DILEMMA

In the essay's opening sentence, Rav Soloveitchik informs us that he will
not address the intellectual challenges which modernity poses to faith,
but rather something much more basic: the challenge which modernity poses
to the EXPERIENCE of faith. He will focus on "a human life situation in
which the man of faith as an individual concrete being ... is entangled"
(p.1). In this sense, the essay is not a work of abstract theology but
rather "a tale of a personal dilemma," whose power derives from the fact
that it is based on "actual situations and experiences with which I have
been confronted" (ibid.). In a striking characterization, unparalleled
in other classic works of Jewish thought, the Rav concludes:

   "Instead of talking theology, in the didactic sense, eloquently and
   in balanced sentences, I would like, hesitatingly and haltingly,
   to confide in you, and to share with you some concerns which weigh
   heavily on my mind and which frequently assume the proportions of an
   awareness of crisis." (pp.1-2)

Furthermore, he confesses, he does not have a solution to the problem he
will pose, "for the dilemma is insoluble" (p.8). Why, then, does he bother
to present the problem at all? He offers two reasons: 1. "All I want is
to follow the advice giby Elihu the son of Berachel of old who said,
'I will speak that I may firelief;' for there is a redemptive quality
for an agitated mind in the spoken word and a tormented soul finds peace
in confessing" (p.2). 2. "...[T]he defining itself [of the dilemma]
is a worthwhile cognitive gesture which, I hope, will yield a better
understanding of ourselves and our commitment" (p.8).

Why is the dilemma insoluble? Let us first consider the Rav's definition
of the dilemma, and then we will return to this question.

BEING LONELY AND BEING ALONE

   "The nature of the dilemma can be stated in a three- word sentence.
   I am lonely." (p.3)

Here we must distinguish between being alone and being lonely.
Aloneness means lacking love and friendship; this is an entirely
destructive feeling. Loneliness, on the other hand, is an awareness of
one's uniqueness, and to be unique often means to be misunderstood. A
lonely person, while surrounded by friends, feels that his unique and
incommunicable experiences separate him from them. This fills him with
a gnawing sense of the seemingly insurmountable gap which prevents true
communion between individuals. While painful, this experience can also be
"stimulating" and "cathartic," since it "presses everything in me into
the service of God," the Lonely One, who truly understands me.

As mentioned above, loneliness - the sense of the uniqueness and
incommunicablility of one's inner life - can have two causes: ontological
and historical. These two forms of loneliness, while stemming from the
same basic dichotomy in the human personality, are experienced differently
and must be addressed separately.

ONTOLOGICAL LONELINESS: EXPERIENCING INNER CONFLICT

The ontological loneliness of the man of faith derives from the
very nature of his religious experience. In a phrase that may seem
surprising at first, the Rav characterizes this experience as "fraught
with inner conflicts and incongruities;" he also calls it "antinomic"
and "paradoxical" (p.2). ("Antinomic" means contradictory, or rather
self-contradictory in our context. This is not to be confused with
"antinomian," which denotes refusal to recognize the authority of moral
law. While the Rav loved a good antinomy, he hated antinomianism, which
espoused rejection of Halakha.)

This description of the religious experience initially strikes us as
odd because modern man often equates religious belief with tranquility
and peace of mind. However, bearing in mind the summary of the Rav's
argument at the beginning of this lecture, it should be clear why Rav
Soloveitchik totally disagrees with this approach. In his view, God
demands of man to live in two seemingly incompatible modes of existence -
that of Adam I and that of Adam II. Thus, one who heeds God's dual demand
lives a life full of dialectical tension.

NO ENCHANTED ISLAND

However, it is important to understand that this tension does not derive
only from the requirement to be both Adam I and Adam II, but is inherent
within Adam II himself, within "Religious Man" and the religious realm
proper. Religious man himself, and not only the compound persona of
majestic and religious man, is an antithetical character. He constantly
grapples with dichotomous concepts and experiences located at the heart
of religious existence: "temporality and eternity, [divine] knowledge and
[human] choice (necessity and freedom), love and fear (the yearning for
God and the flight from His glorious splendor), incredible, overbold
daring and an extreme sense of humility, transcendence and God's
closeness, the profane and the holy, etc." (Halakhic Man, p.142).

Many contemporary popularizers of religion portray faith as offering ready
comfort and easy inner harmony to believers, providing a refuge from the
discord, doubts, fears and responsibilities of the secular realm. From
his earliest writings until his latest, Rav Soloveitchik took umbrage
with this shallow and false ideology, which he found to be particularly
prevalent in America. Religion does not provide believers with instant
tranquility, but rather forces them to confront uncomfortable dichotomies;
it is "a raging, clamorous torrent of man's consciousness with all its
crises, pangs, and torments" (ibid.). Religion is not less demanding than
secularity, but rather more so. It does not offer an escape from reality,
but rather provides the ultimate encounter with reality. It suggests
no quick fixes, but rather demands constant struggle in order to attain
spiritual growth. As the Rav so memorably put it, "Kedusha (sanctity)
is not a paradise but a paradox" ("Sacred and Profane," p.8; see also
"For Further Reference" below, #1.)

HISTORICAL LONELINESS: THE CONTEMPORARY CRISIS

Thus far we have discussed the ontological loneliness of the man
of faith, the crises and tensions inherent in religious existence.
However, Rav Soloveitchik informs us that in this essay his "prime
concern" is not ontological loneliness but rather the man of faith's
experience of historical loneliness, in which "a highly sensitized
and agitated heart, overwhelmed by the impact of social and cultural
forces, filters this root awareness [of ontological loneliness] through
the medium of painful, frustrating emotions" (p.6). Rav Soloveitchik
does not wish to focus on a general, timeless theological issue, but
instead to address the predicament of the CONTEMPORARY man of faith who,
"due to his peculiar position in our secular society ... lives through a
particularly difficult and agonizing crisis" (p.6). A sharp and prescient
social critic, Rav Soloveitchik is here keenly sensitive to the changes
society has undergone and for the need to reassess the role of the man
of religion within it.

   "Let me spell out this passional experience of contemporary man of
   faith [passional = expressing suffering].

   "He looks upon himself as a stranger in modern society which is
   technically minded, self-centered, and self-loving, almost in
   a sickly narcissistic fashion, scoring honor upon honor, piling
   up victory upon victory, reaching for the distant galaxies, and
   seeing in the here-and-now sensible world the only manifestation of
   reality. What can a man of faith like myself, living by a doctrine
   which has no technical potential, by a law which cannot be tested in
   the laboratory, steadfast in his loyalty to an eschatological vision
   whose fulfillment cannot be predicted with any degree of probability
   ... - what can such a man say to a functional utilitarian society
   which is saeculum-oriented and whose practical reasons of the mind
   have long ago supplanted the sensitive reasons of the heart?" (pp.6-7)

The Rav is certainly not anti-intellectual or opposed to technological
advances (see, e.g., lecture #14). What he is asserting here is the
autonomy of faith. Our society speaks in pragmatic and utilitarian terms,
and expects religion to justify itself in these categories. But the value
of religion, the Rav believes, is independent of its practical utility,
its usefulness in helping man attain dignity and majesty. Rather,
faith is a response to a divine summons, a call to submit ourselves
to God. Its meaning and value far exceed justification by the human
intellect. However, pragmatic modern man - whether secular or religious -
works only with categories of the intellect, not realizing their limited
purview. The danger, then, is not just that secularists have ceased
to understand the man of faith; it is that adherents of religion have
ceased to understand themselves.

We can now appreciate the true import of the concluding sentences of
the Rav's introduction:

   "If my audience will feel that these interpretations are also
   relevant to their perceptions and emotions, I shall feel amply
   rewarded. However, I shall not feel hurt if my thoughts will find no
   response in the hearts of my listeners." (p.9)

The Rav is not being coy or diffident here. Rather, as Rav Jonathan
Sacks points out (see Reference section, #2), this is "an expression
characteristic of the man of faith in the modern world. He no
longer speaks the shared language of society. ... How then is he to
communicate? Simply by speaking out of his inner situation and hoping
to find an echoing response in his audienc" Thus, the man of faith's
uncertainty about his ability to communicate lies at the very heart of
his problem.

THE INSOLUBLE PROBLEM

Returning now to our question of why the dilemma this essay poses is
insoluble, we must offer a dual response.

A) In terms of ontological loneliness, the answer should be clear. An
essential dichotomy is woven into the very fabric of the religious
experience. As such, this basic dialectic is not subject to "solutions;"
it is part of the definition of religious existence.

B) There is no a priori reason why there should not be a solution to
the problem of historical loneliness. This feeling does not stem from
any inherent qualities or basic definitions of religiosity. Rather, it
is the product of the confrontation of the man of faith with specific
historical and cultural circumstances. Therefore, as you read the essay,
keep in mind the following questions: what are the possible solutions
to this problem? Is it perhaps insoluble? Even if the problem admits of
no solution, one must still respond to it somehow. What course of action
does the Rav advocate? We shall return to consider these questions when
we reach the end of the book.

A READING GUIDE

To assist you in following the Rav's argument, I would like to end by
presenting two outlines of the book, one briefly presenting its overall
structure and the other detailing the contents of each chapter.

[Note that I follow the chapter numbering in the Doubleday-Aronson
edition. While the original Tradition 1965 edition counts the introduction
as Chapter 1, the Doubleday edition does not number it. Therefore,
Chapter 1 in the Doubleday edition is Chapter 2 in the Tradition version,
etc.

However, although the Doubleday-Aronson edition does away with sub-chapter
headings, e.g. 8.A, 8.B, etc., I will retain these in order to clarify the
internal structure of chapters. These sub-chapter divisions are indicated
in the Doubleday-Aronson edition by a blank line between paragraphs.]

THE OVERALL STRUCTURE OF THE BOOK:
Intro - I.A    The problem
I.B            Biblical framework
I.C - II, IV.A Contrasts between A1 & A2
III,  IV.B-VII  Contrasts between communities formed by A1&A2
XIII                Ontological loneliness
IX             Historical loneliness
IX.D, X        Conclusion(s)

THE CONTENTS OF EACH CHAPTER:
     Introduction
I.   The Issue: Loneliness
     A.   Ontological and historical loneliness
     B.   The biblical framework: Genesis 1 and 2
     C-D. Adam 1
II.  Contrasts between Adam 1 and Adam 2
III. Adam 1's community (natural work community)
IV.  A.   Dignity vs. redemption (more on A1 vs. A2)
     B-C. Adam 2's community (covenantal faith community)
V.   God as a member of the Adam 2 community
VI.  The cosmic encounter with God
VII. Prayer and prophecy communities (A2)
VIII.     Ontological loneliness - A1/A2 oscillation
     A.   Man's tragic destiny; the role of Halakha
     B.   Man must be both A1 and A2
     C.   Complete redemption is impossible
IX.  Historical loneliness
     A.   Contemporary dilemma
     B.   Religion of Adam 1
     C.   Autonomy of faith (Adam 2)
     D.   Implications of A-C (conclusion #1)
X.   Conclusion (#2)

FOR FURTHER REFERENCE:

1. Religion is No Escape from Struggle: Although this theme occupies the
Rav in many of his writings, his two classic treatments of it are found in
"Sacred and Profane" (reprinted in Shiurei Harav [Ktav, 1994]) and footnote
4 of Halakhic Man (JPS, 1983). This footnote is a small jewel of an essay
in its own right.

2. Rabbi Sacks' excellent essay on "The Lonely Man of Faith," as well as
several other essays on the Rav, are found in his book Tradition in an
Untraditional Age (London: Valentine, 1990). The quotation is from page 41.

********************


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