Читать книгу The Essential Agus - Steven T. Katz - Страница 48

While prophecy is the central theme of the “Guide,” the novelty of M.’s contribution consists in his tri-partite division of revelation. He discusses first two pre-prophetic stages, along with other proto-prophetic phenomena; second, various stages of prophecy, the highest being that of Abraham; third, the super-prophetic quality of Mosaic revelation. In this way, the Torah of Moses is placed within the generally human context of inspired achievements and noble visions. The act of revelation is a quantum-extension of human perception, not the incursion of a totally foreign element.

Proto-prophetic are the diviners and the inventors, who discover new inventions intuitively, without any understanding of scientific and mathematical principles. (II, 38.) Their imagination and dedication are stimulated by the flow from Active Reason, enabling them to create instruments of human progress. Philosophers and scientists are also proto-prophetic, with their fresh visions of reality arising out of an inflow of Active Reason. However, in their case, the imaginative and intuitive faculties are short of perfection. (II, 37.) And the logic of the mind, however great it be, cannot suffice to reflect faithfully the total import of the divine thrust, which affects ideally man’s entire personality.

The prophet is one whose imaginative, intuitive and rational faculties are all fully developed. Yet, even in his case, moments of genuine revelation occur infrequently. True, the good God is ever ready to grant His impulsions of goodness and wisdom. Though He is free to withhold His gift, He, in His Goodness, is ever ready to uplift men. But, even the noblest prophet can rise to the requisite levels of perfection only on a few occasions. Moses was far superior to all other prophets; indeed, he was unique and incomparable. Still, Moses was incapable of reaching the heights of prophecy during 3 8 of the 40 years that the Israelites wandered in the wilderness. (II, 36.)

M. lists two pre-prophetic stages that great men may reach. Both are characterized by the influx of the Holy Spirit (ruah hakodesh). (II, 45 & II, 41.) In the first case this influx is manifested in great deeds, accomplished by leaders who are fired with the determination to redeem an oppressed people or to advance the cause of mankind. In the second case, the Divine power is employed to compose great works of inspiration and wisdom—such as, the Writings (kethubim) of Holy Scriptures.

Taking the proto-prophetic and the pre-prophetic stages together, we have here a conception of revelation that embraces all that makes for the advancement of mankind, unifying religion with the several branches of culture. Revelation is a thrust toward higher levels of holiness, in the life of the individual and of society. And the culmination of this advance will be attained in the messianic era, when material prosperity will be conjoined with ethical maturity and religious truth.¹⁵

In these stages of ruah hakodesh we are given a theory of universal progress, since philosophers, poets and cultural heroes address themselves to all mankind. We recall that, in M.’s view, Aristotelian philosophy was itself an integral part of the esoteric wisdom of the prophets and sages. His interpretation of the Noachide principles as a body of “general revelation” fits into his scheme of an all-embracing philosophy of culture, consisting of artistic achievements and ethical principles intended for all men along with the Torah designed for the Jewish people.

If we now skip across the nine specific stages of prophecy and examine M.’s concept of the prophecy of Moses, we find that he takes pains to stress its radically dogmatic character. Everything said about other prophets and prophecy in general, he tells us, does not apply to Mosaic revelation. (II, 35; II, 39.) Since his original problem was to reconcile the Torah of Moses, not merely prophecy in general, with the dictates of philosophy, it is certainly paradoxical that he exempts Moses from the normal category of prophets. Evidently, another principle is here involved, and we shall discuss it presently.

At this point, we note that the biblical prophets occupied the middle ground between the “general revelation” of the pre- and proto-prophets and the post- or super-prophetic status of Moses. (II, 45.) While the prophets admonished the people to be loyal to the Torah of Moses, they dared to be extremely selective in their emphasis, as if they were authorized to weigh and measure the various mizvot. In regard to the sacrifices and the choice of Israel, they distinguished between the Primary Intention of God and His Secondary Intention. (Ill, 32.) Accordingly they chided the people for their ethnic zeal and their preoccupation with sacrifices, pointing out that the ultimate aims of God were the same as in “general revelations”—namely, the ethical virtues of personal life and the perfection of society. So, while the spectrum of revelation ranges from the general principles of faith to the specific ordinances of Torah, it is basically the same phenomenon.

Why, then, does M. put Mosaic prophecy in a category all its own? In the first place, he was compelled to follow the teaching of Bible and Talmud, on this point. In terms of his own philosophy of prophecy, Moses is unique because there was no admixture of imagination in his teaching. (II, 36.) But strangely enough, M. states it as a rule that the prophet is superior to the philosopher, precisely because the latter lacks the qualities of imagination and intuition. (II, 37.) Evidently, in terms of prophetic receptivity, the more the imagination is developed, the better, but in terms of the content of prophetic revelation, the less it is enveloped by the fancies of imagination, the better. The role of the prophet is to serve as the “channel,” whereby the divine uplifting thrust is conveyed to mankind. To this end, imagination or intuition is essential, since the prophet, in distinction from the philosopher, addresses himself to an entire community, which is more likely to be affected by rites and symbols than by ideals and ideas. However, the inner content of revelation can be discovered only by penetrating through the poetic imagery of prophecy and isolating its rational content. The Primary Intention, say, of the sacrificial ritual, described in the Torah, is the purpose of the Divine Will. The Secondary Intention was the “cunning” of Providence in leading Israel and mankind by slow and devious steps from idolatry to true religion. (Ill, 32.) And the prophets, from Amos and Hosea to Haggai and Malachi, taught the Israelites to distinguish between the Primary Intention of God, reflecting His Purpose for mankind, and His Secondary Intention in providing the social institutions and rituals needed for the ultimate triumph of the Divine Will.

At this point, we note a most important distinction which M. draws between “True Beliefs” and “Necessary Beliefs”—the former are true in themselves, the latter, while strictly untrue, serve the cause of truth. (Ill, 28 & III, 32.) As an example of the latter, he cites the belief that God listens to the prayers of men, turning from the policy of Wrath to that of Compassion, and changing the course of events in response to the earnest petitions of people. (Ill, 28.) In the case of rituals, the elaborate ordinances regulating the sacrifices in the Temple were designed to wean the people away from dependence on animal offerings. Similarly, the laws regulating family life continued relics of barbarism which the contemporaries of Moses were not willing to abandon all at once. (Ill, 32 & III, 47.) So, too, in the case of ideas, the “Necessary Beliefs” were designed to establish a community dedicated to “True Beliefs.” Some popular beliefs are essential to the formation of a community that would become the bearer of great, liberating truths. That the Torah of Moses can never be replaced by other prophets is one of those “Necessary Beliefs,” that insure the continuity of the Jewish faith as against the claims of Christianity and Islam. In a larger sense, the entire dogmatic structure of Judaism, insofar as it reaches beyond the truths of philosophy, the impetus of prophecy and the messianic vision, belongs in this category of “Necessary Beliefs,” particularly the teachings about hell and the resurrection of the dead.

What is the content of revelation, in M.’s scheme?

If we ignore for a moment the Torah of Moses, revelation is an energetic thrust, rather than a rational proposition. It is so protean that it assumes in different minds, forms as diverse as the speculations of the philosopher, the insights of an inventor, the visions of a poet, the arts of the statesman. In every case, the intent of the divine inflow is directed not alone to the prophetic personality but to the society of which he is part. And the nobler the level of prophecy, the more it is oriented toward the entire community and ultimately toward all of humanity. Revelation contains a rational core; indeed, the Divine inflow affects reason primarily and imagination secondarily; but it is more than sheer reason, since the ideal prophet’s grasp exceeds the reach of the philosopher. What, then, is the plus of prophetic revelation?

To say, as does Franz Rosenzweig, that God reveals His own Being is beside the point. “The entire world reveals His Glory.” And in a more direct sense, God does not reveal Himself. The prophet receives a call, a command together with an intimation of God’s reality. To assert that God reveals His love is true in a general sense, but this answer does not capture the special nuance of the Maimonidean philosophy, or the genius of Hebraic prophecy. The prophet loves his people, but he is also their severest critic. It would be more correct to characterize revelation as a thrust toward messianic perfection of the individual and of society. The two goals are one in essence, for the closer one comes to God the more he is dedicated to the promotion within society of “steadfast love” (hesed), “righteousness” (zedakah) and “justice” (mishpat). (Ill, 54.) An anticipation of the building of God’s Kingdom on earth is implicit in the “inflow” from Active Reason, whether it occurs on the lowest, pre-civilization level, or on the highest, prophetic level. In each case, the recipient is impelled to bring some gift for the Kingdom; he is filled with “divine discontent,” he must destroy as well as build, he is charged with a mission. All things are judged by Him in the light of the future kingdom. So, he is hopeful when other’s are despairing and embittered when other’s are celebrating. His sole standard is the “nearness of God” and His Word. So, Job, who was not a prophet, came to realize that the highest good, “the knowledge of God,” is available to us, even when we are troubled in body and anguished in soul. (Ill, 23.)

In a word, revelation brings a dynamic unity of reassurance, discontent and the vision of the long road ahead; hence, it impels the prophets to bless even as they curse, to speak of the glories that are to come, even as they expose the moral failings of their contemporaries. Above all, revelation is a “quest,” a demand for creative action of one kind or another.

In our day, this concept of revelation is completely tenable, though our view of the world does not consist of Spheres and Active Reason. If we accept the world-view of what Hartshorne calls the “convergent philosophy,” we recognize that new creative energy may well enter into us. God is the Pole of whole-creation, but He also includes the Pole of resistance or raw matter, in His Being. He is eternal, but He also lives in time. He enters into human history, when hearts and minds are readied for Him. To paraphrase Matthew Arnold, “He is the Power, not ourselves, that makes for growth in Life, Mind and Spirit.” Is not the course of evolution, as analyzed by Morgan, Bergson, Alexander and Teilhard de Chardin, a demonstration of the continuing creativity of the Divine Being? Can we not discern an advance toward the emergence of creatures with greater measures of freedom?—If God is the Pole of wholeness building in the cosmos, then a series of pulsations toward ever greater wholes is precisely what we should expect.

Neo-Maimonism, then, accepts the principle of revelation as an incursion of supra-human energy into the soul’s of creative individual’s and into society. Along with M., we recognize the many-sidedness of revelation. It is by no means confined to the sphere of religion. It reinvigorates “the lines of growth” in the spirit of man. It is reflected in the realms of art, science, philosophy and statecraft. It ranges in power from everyday premonitions, that occur to most of us, to the creative ecstasies of geniuses.

Neo-Maimonism differs from the “life-philosophies” of Germany and the philosophy of Bergson, in the recognition that the fresh incursions of spiritual energy center on the expansion of the range of intelligence. The heart of reality is not the sheer impetus of a cosmic will, as in Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, nor is it a blind life-force, the elan vital, but spirit in the sense of the total outreach of man, including the disciplines of reason, ethics and esthetics. At the same time, Neo-Maimonism rejects the separation of religion from the other domains of culture. There is a goal and purpose to human history, and all efforts “to improve the world by the Kingdom of the Almighty” subserve that goal.

The essential characteristic of revelation is not the transmission of static information, but the confirmation of a direction. The recipient is powerfully oriented toward the achievement of “the nearness of God.” The content of revelation is a hunger and a thirst for more and more of the things of God. As a dynamic phenomenon, revelation consists of three elements—an affirmation, a negation, a drive toward action.

As an affirmation, revelation is basically the reorientation of man’s spirit toward the infinite goal of building God’s Kingdom on earth. One comes to feel part of that wondrous company of great men and women who dared dream of the ideal society of mankind. One is reassured that this infinite quest will come closer and closer to realization. None of us comes to the experience of revelation totally alone and naked. On the contrary, we are sustained in our quest for God’s “nearness,” by the “sacred tradition” of our community. And in the experience of revelation, we find the values of the past confirmed and reinvigorated, in so far as their intent is separable from the external forms which they assumed in the various contingencies of history. God’s Word at any one time cannot be in contradiction with His Eternal Will, as revealed to all men and women of good-will.

Neo-Maimonism applauds the principle of M. that the main road to true revelation is that of critical, objective rationality. Moses is praised for not daring to engage in metaphysical speculation before he has prepared himself fully for that task by means of mathematical and logical studies. And when the influx of Divine energy comes, it inspires man’s rational faculty primarily. We cannot attain the insights of revelation by means of emotional rhapsodies, or by withdrawing from the world. Kierkegaard’s slogan, “subjectivity is truth,” is only partially true, in the two senses—first, that the final fulcrum of truth is the mind of the individual; second, that all truth is inescapably filtered through the forms and limitations of our minds. Our formulation would be, “in all truth there is subjectivity,” since it is the individual’s hunger for truth and meaning that opens his mind to the influx of revelation. For this very reason, we are called to prepare ourselves for revelation by a critical analysis of the several ways in which we are subjectively structured. We are subjective, as individuals, as Jews, as Americans, as professionals. These varied influences increase our receptivity only when we have subjected them to critical analysis. The would-be prophet, even to the smallest extent, must emulate the prophets in the ardor of self-criticism.

So, we come to the second component of revelation—its negation. The prophet, knowing himself to be in the vanguard of mankind, condemns not merely the vices of his contemporaries but their virtues as well. His lips have been touched by the embers of eternity; he is impelled to surge beyond the landmarks of the past; he rails at the limitations and shortcomings of his contemporaries.

Above all, the divine-human encounter in Judaism must be translated into one action or another. In the first paragraph of the Shema, the love of God is carried out by way of teaching one’s children, building one’s home and spelling out its meaning in the market-places of the city.

In Neo-Maimonism, we have to recognize the role of “Necessary Beliefs”—that is, of ideas which are essential to the maintenance of the community. Without rituals and a common texture of ideas and sentiments, no community can live and serve as a bearer of truth. However, the “Necessary Beliefs” must be constantly subject to review and reexamination. Do they really, in our time, serve to provide a vehicle of truth and kingdom-building energy? Or is the opposite the case, with the rituals and “Necessary Beliefs” tying our people in knots and preventing them from facing up to the challenges of our time?

In general, the “sacred tradition” in its totality is our starting point. And this tradition is far from being monolithic. It is neither Halachah alone nor “ethical monotheism” alone, but the living texture of ideas and sentiments, ranging from the darkest hues of folk-mythology to the brightest ideals of humanity. We accept it with the greatest reverence as the deposit of revelations in the past, which is essential to the continuity of the Torah-community. But in the spirit of classical prophecy and philosophy, we accept it critically, distinguishing between the essence of faith and its external manifestations, at any one time or place. We recognize that what may have been a “necessary” belief at one time, may no longer be so today. We also affirm that a rite, devised by the “cunning of God” for a particular time, might well become counterproductive in our day. So, we of the Conservative movement no longer pray for the reestablishment of the sacrificial system in the Temple, drawing the consequences of M.’s reasoning, though in his own time he could not do so, without tearing the Jewish community apart.