Arguments for knowledge versus those for power

By Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel
Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

CHULA VISTA, California — Dissension is nothing new in Jewish tradition. One of the most famous biblical disagreements is found in this week’s Torah portion, where we read about the famous controversy between Korah and Moses (Numbers 16ff.)

Yet, unlike the debates between Hillel and Shammai, which for the most part were conducted in an amicable manner, Korah’s rebellion was not predicated upon a desire to know truth, but on a ruthless “will to power.” Demagogues frequently claim to say they have the interest of the people at heart. Slogans like, “Power to the people,” are routinely heard in every election, yet which “people” are these politicians referring to?

In Jewish tradition, we celebrate diversity in every manner possible. Rabbis and their students engage themselves in perpetual debate in the Talmud. Yet, as the Sages taught us long ago, it is not what people debate about that is important. The reason for debate is more important. Arguments for the sake of truth are very important and the great debates of history regarding the beginning of human life, or the question: When does a soul enter the body? Does the order of the universe reflect the mind of a Designer? Such questions have puzzled many of the world’s greatest thinkers. Unfortunately, today, such questions get squelched in the classrooms. As teachers, we have a responsibility to evoke wonder in our students—whenever they focus on the mega-issues that pertain to the mystery of the universe and the human soul.

Conversation opens the doorway to discovering truth. It begins with two people struggling to discover answers to life’s many profound questions.

What is the purpose of a conversation? The root “converse” connotes an informal or intimate verbal interchange of thoughts, information, and feelings between two or more persons. When we converse, we are engaging in one of the quintessential features that define us as human beings.  Participating in conversation involves listening, asking questions, responding, agreeing, and disagreeing—depending on the content and context of the discussion. The fluidity of conversation moves and expands, depending on the input of its participants. Oftentimes, it involves disagreeing with the person who is conversing. I prefer to refer to this  neologism, “con-versing”. Common characteristics of a conversation typically include:

(1)   An autobiographical understanding that each party brings from his or her own life.

(2)  A personal narrative that often includes earlier conversations on a given topic.

(3)  A combination of spoken and unspoken dialogue that may influence each participant’s perspective.

(4)  An agreement to disagree in order to keep the channels of dialogue flowing. Respect is essential in any kind of communicative setting.

In short, the essence of meaningful conversation involves an element of surprise; i.e., disclosure that defies predictability in the germination of creative thought. The absence of predictability along with the flow of asymmetrical ideas allow for a creative tension and a deepening of insight; when we converse, we sense a movement towards a telos (goal) which becomes illuminated by the contrasting hues of understanding. The trajectory of a conversation may even become chaotic as new and unanticipated directions unfold that become infused with different shades of meaning and significance. For honest dialogue to occur, participants ought to shed the ego’s desire to monopolize or control the flow of thought. The beauty of conversation allows each participant to expand his/her horizon of perspective, allowing for growth and transformation of all of the participants through meaningful dialogue.

When one converses with people about the ideas of the past commentators, an interesting question occurs: Must a contemporary reader or scholar  subordinate one’s voice to the great teachers of the past? While it is important to honor and understand the great luminaries of Jewish history, one is strongly encouraged to test the veracity of any idea—regardless if the originator of a exegetical thought happens to be Rashi or Maimonides—how much more so does this truth apply to questioning and interrogating the insights of any contemporary scholar.

Rashi’s own grandson, Rabbi Samuel ben Meir (a.k.a., “Rashbam,”), writes about his formative years growing up with his grandfather, Rashi—the most famous rabbinical commentator, whose works are still studied today throughout the Jewish world. As a young man, Rashbam recalls how he often had face-to-face arguments with his grandfather over his scriptural commentary.  Relentless in pursuit of the truth, Rashbam writes that his grandfather finally conceded that had he more time, he would have revised his earlier commentaries.[1] Rashi’s concession is important for he admitted that no commentator is immune to critical thought and revision. In the commonwealth of ideas, old thoughts will be supplanted by new thoughts, much as Hegel defined in his famous dialectical method of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis—a concept that also resonates throughout the enormous corpus of rabbinical literature. Ideas must always be subject to a process of trial and error.

One 16th century rabbinic scholar, Rabbi Eliezer Ashkenazi, exhibited integrity transcending the parochial world he inhabited, and called upon his readers to show an independence of thought that challenged the theological correctness of his era.  His prescription for honesty and intellectual truthfulness can certainly apply to our own generation as well:

Neither should we be concerned about the logic of others—even if they preceded us—preventing our own individual investigation. Much to the contrary, just as [our forbearers] did not wish to indiscriminately accept the truth from those who preceded them, and that which they did not choose [to accept] they rejected, so it is fitting for us to do. Only on the basis of gathering many different opinions will the truth be tested. . . . Do not be dismayed by the names of the great personalities when you find them in disagreement with your beliefs; you must investigate and interpret, because for this purpose were you created, and wisdom was granted you from Above, and this will benefit you.[2]

From R. Ashkenazi’s opinion, we may surmise that the truth can always stand up to scrutiny. Let us hope that in our search for truth, we assert positions–not to aggrandize the ego as Korah did, but in order to discover the great ideas that unite the human race.

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[1] Rashbam’s Commentary on Genesis 37:2.

[2] Cited from Alan Dershowitz’s The Genesis of Justice (New York: Time Warner, 2000), 18-19.

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Rabbi Samuel is spiritual leader of Temple Beth Shalom in Chula Vista.  He may be contacted via michael.samuel@sdjewishworld.com