Dear Friends,
I’m working on a book that is my philosophy of Torah. It will serve as a reintroduction for folks who had a bad or lacking first impression and a new introduction for first timers. Many of the chapters are based off of essays you’ve read here. And there are many more you haven’t read yet. It’s going to be a short, sweet volume that is intended to spark your further engagement – not quench your thirst but wet your appetite, as it were.
Below is one of the pieces I’ve been playing with. A friend who read through my draft manuscript said this one stood out to them so I figured I’d share it with you now.
Right now, I think one of the most important things we can do is learn to study Torah. If you know me you know that I don’t mean we should memorize the verses and live by the laws lockstep. What I mean is learn how to study Torah. Torah study is creative and humble and collaborative and slow. It requires commitment and curiosity. It requires holding multiple interpretations at once. It asks us to see ourselves first and foremost as learners. As an educator and citizen of our world, I have to argue that these values are essential, and increasingly so.
If you have any thoughts or questions or ideas for this book, I’d love to know. If you know anyone in Jewish publishing, I’d love any connections (though I have submitted a proposal, we’ll see how that goes!). For now, enjoy this little piece.
Love, Meg
The second most common question I get when teaching Torah to kids (besides “Can I go to the restroom?”) is “Did this really happen?” To this question I always reply, “What do you think?” And then depending on what part of the Torah the question was about, I get all sorts of answers from, “No way,” to, “Well, maybe it happened but not exactly like this,” to the ever imaginationally gifted, “Why not? Just because we haven’t experienced it doesn’t mean someone else didn’t.” Bless you. The biggest topics of “did it really happen” questions are of course miracles and most things God related. So, a lot.
Then I ask something like, “How does the story change for you if it did or didn’t happen?” In other words, reading Torah as if every single word in it actually happened is only one of many ways for Torah to be true, or real, or rather, cause for you to believe in it.
It’s amazing to me how quickly some folks can dismiss believing in something beyond us. And if anything, the most intellectually honest position is to just surrender to agnosticism. If you ask me, I’ll tell you that I think the divine organization of the universe leaves footprints that are shaped like moments of awe. But coming back to Torah. Torah’s entire value and eternal wisdom does not necessarily hinge on it being the exact documentation of ancient history. Of course, for many Jews (and Christians and Muslims alike), much of the Torah (if not all) did actually happen as it says. Yes. End of story. But I can’t help but wonder if that was its only or even primary value, why would we need to interpret it? Wouldn't we try to memorize it, or listen to it in utterly silent amazement and then go home? Of course, this was the concern of the rabbis – to move from a time of prophecy to analysis.
So what might we believe in when it comes to Torah, if not the exact accuracy of its narrative?
We might believe that when we study, we draw closer to whatever is the spirit of the universe. We might believe that when we study, we ignite the divine parts of ourselves, much like to which we aspire with prayer. We might believe that the words of Torah contain within them shimmers of truth we can uncover if we devote ourselves to study. Like Maimonides, we might believing we are unpacking great metaphors of God. We might believe that the layers of exegesis available to the reader mirror the Truth about how life actually works – that there is no ultimate objective purpose, only meaning to be made. Or we might reject that more relativist approach and instead believe that we don’t work on Torah so much as Torah works on us. It hones us like a pencil sharpener so that we are more fit to lead worthwhile or Good lives. A sort of meta-parent. We can believe in Torah without believing it as is.
And then there’s the question of “real” and “pretend.” That binary we take for granted. We assume today, in the secular world, that there is a Truth that we have access to that our ancient forebears did not. That we have evolved so far beyond the writers of the Hebrew Bible. We might call it science or reason. And we might be right. But we might also be cutting ourselves off from another way of understanding.
Here’s an example. At the end of Moses’ life, at the ripe old age of 120, he climbs to the top of Mt. Nebo and even though “his eyes were undimmed and his vigor unabated” (Deuteronomy 34:7), he dies. He dies looking out upon the land flowing with milk and honey. He dies after 40 years of shepherding the Israelites through the desert after not even wanting the job. He dies unable to taste the sweetness he has helped serve to the next generation. And of course he dies. This isn’t tragic. This is the natural course of things. You can’t live to see it all. Eventually, every leader needs to stay behind, even if they aren’t ready to. Because a Joshua has to arise. And life must spin on.
So did this actually happen – Moses dying on a mountain at 120? Probably not. Do I believe in this story? Yes, I do.
Now allow me to argue with myself. I wonder if the word “belief” or the orientation of “believing” in Torah is not fitting. Indeed, the primarily Jewish orientation to the Divine is not one of belief but of partnership or wrestling (which I always like to conceive of as in the sport of wrestling, which often looks more like a dance). Let us look at the blessing we say before studying Torah. That might help.
Blessed are You, Divine Organization of the Universe, our Oneness, Source of all who makes us holy with mitzvot, commanding us to engage with words of Torah.
Not believe. Not fact check. Not prove.