MORDECAI M. KAPLAN (born in Russia in 1881, came to America in 1889), studied at College of the City of New York (A. B. 1900), Columbia (M. A. 1902) and Jewish Theological Seminary (Rabbi, 1902); held Rabbinical position in New York, 1903-1909; Principal since 1909 of the Teachers' Institute, and Professor of Homiletics since 1910 in the Jewish Theological Seminary. Fearless and original in thought, and exceptionally stimulating as a Menorah lecturer, Professor Kaplan has won the deep respect and friendship of Menorah students at the various universities where he has lectured on Jewish Religion and Education.
MOST of the pain, which according to Koheleth comes with the increase of knowledge, is in the unlearning of the old rather than in the learning of the new. Once an idea has become imbedded in the mind, it cannot be removed without causing a mental upheaval. Blessed are the young to whom unlearning is easy, or who have not much to unlearn. Whether our Jewish young men know much or little about Judaism, they are certain, as a rule, to have formed notions about it of which they must be disabused, if Judaism is to constitute an important factor in their lives. Strange to say, they have obtained these notions not from sources hostile to Judaism, but on the contrary from sources distinctly intended to inculcate both a love and an understanding of the Jewish religion,—such as catechisms and text-books used in our religious schools, and articles in encyclopedias meant for the enlightenment of the general public. The view of Judaism that one gets in this manner is not only a distorted one, but it has the effect of bringing all further reflection to a standstill. It lands one in a blind alley. The conclusion which a person generally arrives at when he consults these sources for information about the Jewish religion is that, whatever else Judaism might be, it certainly offers no field for the exercise of deep insight or broad vision. This largely accounts for the manifest sterility and uncreativeness of present-day Judaism. To give new impetus to fruitful and creative thinking in Jewish life, it is necessary, in the first place, to counteract the paralyzing spell of these routine and conventional interpretations of Judaism.
To be concrete, let us take a typical instance of the kind of instruction that has been in vogue for more than a century. Here are a few sentences from the article on Judaism in Hastings' Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics: "Judaism may be defined as the strictest form of monotheistic belief; but it is something more than a bare mental belief. It is the effect which such a belief, with all its logical consequences, exerts on life, that is to say, on thought and conduct. . . . . A formal and precise definition of Judaism is a matter of some difficulty, because it raises the question, What is the absolute and irreducible minimum of conformity? . . . . Judaism denounces idolatry and polytheism. It believes in a universal God, but it is not exclusive. It believes that this world is good, and that man is capable of perfection. He possesses free will, and is responsible for his actions. Judaism rejects any mediator and any cosmic force for evil. Man is free. He is not subject to Satan; nor are his material gifts of life inherently bad. Wealth might be a blessing as well as a curse," etc., etc.
In an encyclopedia we do not expect to find original or striking views. It is not the particular article from which this excerpt is taken that fault is found with. That article is selected simply as representative of the kind of information that is expected to help one grasp the meaning of Judaism. It is typical of the baffling glibness with which Jewish teachers and preachers usually talk about the Jewish religion. One who reads or listens to such statements finds that somehow or other little has been added to his stock of knowledge about Judaism. He experiences how irritating words can be when they either hide thought or betray its absence.
Mistaking the Shadow for the Thing Itself
IN the instance quoted, it is both amusing and painful to follow the author's vacillating description of Judaism. At first Judaism is a form of belief. Then it becomes the effect of that belief upon thought and conduct. From that it evolves into some irreducible minimum of conformity, if we can only get hold of it. This being difficult, it gets to be a series of colorless platitudes. Such a definition calls up the image of a streamlet, now leaping over rocks and boulders, now meandering upon level ground, and finally losing itself in the marshes. The fitfulness and inconsistency of the formulation, the picking up of the different threads of thought without following out any one of them to its conclusion, are characteristic of this type of definitions. They are as devoid of vitality as a long drawn-out yawn, and their want of logic is exasperating. The merest tyro can see that one can profess the principles they embody without being a Jew. There are many sects that would heartily subscribe to all of them. Universalists, Deists, Theists, Unitarians, and even Ethical Culturists hold these doctrines. As matters stand at present, these sects engage more actively in spreading them than we do.
What is fundamentally wrong with the above definition and with the entire class of formulations of which it is an instance? The tendency to mistake the shadow of a thing for the thing itself. The main cause for misapprehending the true character of Judaism is the proneness to regard it merely as a form of truth, or, at best, as the effect of a truth upon thought and conduct, and to overlook entirely the fact that it is a living reality, a very strand of the primal moving forces of the world. "Judaism is the truest form of truth," says one writer. "Judaism gives, to truth the most truthful shape," says another. Now and then they speak of it as a "form" of life, but it turns out to be only a lip service, or a homiletical phrase. They fail to follow up the clue which is more than once suggested to them by the difficulty of expounding Judaism as a form of truth. That being a Jew has always involved conforming to certain principles and modes of life is a truism. But these principles or observances by themselves constitute only the outward expression of Judaism. The mathematical formula which states the law of gravitation is not the same as the force of gravitation itself. It is conceivable that further experimentation might make it necessary to qualify the mathematical formula. But the force of gravitation will ever be the same as it has been. The change from looking upon Judaism as a form of truth to that of regarding it as of the very substance of reality calls for a complete transformation in our mode of thinking, or what has been termed "a psychological change of front." We must break completely with the habit of identifying the whole of the Jewish religion with merely certain beliefs and duties, while ignoring completely the living energy which has operated to produce them. They are only the static residue of something that is essentially dynamic.
The Jewish Aversion to Creeds and Formulas
THE change in attitude which is here advocated is not a departure from all that has gone before in Jewish life. If it were that, Judaism could not possibly survive under it. The fact is that we are only bringing to the fore and translating into modern phraseology an attitude that in one form or another has always asserted itself in Judaism. Simultaneously with the tendency to compress Judaism within certain formulas, there has always shown itself a strong aversion to gathering Judaism within creeds and minima of conformity. To-day that aversion, which has hitherto remained a matter of feeling and intuition, can make itself articulate by availing itself of the results of recent research in the fields of religion. It need no longer entertain the fear of being charged with spiritual anarchy. Discountenancing dogmas in Judaism is not synonymous with intellectual libertinism. It is rather a protest against shallowness and superficiality, much like the chagrin of the artist at having his knowledge of drawing praised and the soul of the picture missed.
We can give in this connection a few cursory examples of the anti-summarizing tendency. The Torah itself, in one instance, seems to set out with a view of reducing Judaism to a minimum, but scarcely finds itself able to do so. "And now, Israel, what doth the Lord thy God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, and to walk in all His ways, and to love Him, and to serve the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul, to keep the commandments of thy Lord and the statutes, which I command thee this day, for thine own good?" "Is this a small matter?" asks the Talmud, in evident surprise at the hugeness of the program. When the would-be proselyte came to Shammai and requested him to sum up the entire Torah in one principle, he received no better treatment than he deserved, when he was made to take to his heels. That Hillel did not rebuff him and gave him the principle, "What is hateful to thee do not do unto thy neighbor," proves that Hillel knew how to be patient and tactful, but not that the Talmud looks upon that summary, or any other, as expressive of the essence of Judaism. The same applies to religious practices, concerning which the Mishnah announces the maxim that it is not for us to estimate which are more important than others. We are told that the custom obtained at one time of having the Ten Commandments read as part of the daily service; but that as soon as it gave rise to the impression that the Ten Commandments were more essential than the rest of the Torah, it was discontinued. It is true that Philo reduces the teachings of Judaism to five essential doctrines, but that was because Judaism to Philo was Platonism divinely revealed.