De Opificio Homini--A theological divertimento

Gracias a SrGuillot por la foto de la Sinagoga de Córdoba patria chica de Maimónides quien es
la inspiración constante de estas líneas y de este servidor.

Based on a thoughtful reflection by Adon Pronek based on an incisive article by Marcelo Dascal on the usefulness of philosophy for solving real life conflicts (in this particular case, the Israeli/Palestinian conflict), I offer the following analysis of the Talmudic legend brought by Dascal at the end of his article, trying to answer all of Pronek's questions. Before we get into the thick of it, I would like to quote some inspiring words from Dascal's essay. These words express, quite eloquently, the best hopes of all of us who come from seemingly irredeemably violent places and have chosen -for one reason or another- the life of the intellect:

For those of us whose life is marked by the daily suffering imposed by this conflict, this apparent lack of any prospect of solution is unbearable. Appealing to philosophic reflection in such dire circumstances may seem to be nothing but a form of escapism. What could philosophy offer us, except perhaps a stoic acceptance of a destiny we cannot change? Or – worse – injunctions to be moral and just, kind and loving, truthful and reasonable, and, above all, not to give up hope, in circumstances where none of what these injunctions aim at seem even to be possible to achieve? Well, I happen to believe that philosophical reflection can offer much more than that. It can offer a perspective for a deeper understanding of conflicts in general and of this conflict in particular, as well as guiding principles of action in conflict situations. Not only that. It can also help to identify the practical tasks that must be addressed by those who do not content themselves with lamenting the human incapacity to solve the most difficult problems of human existence in this imperfect world.

This statement goes beyond simple good will wishing (a la Kant) -if only the world listened to the philosophers, boo-hoo boo-hoo- or invasive adjudication of political power to the "enlightened few" (a la Plato). It rather posits that the philosophers should contribute with what they do best: rethinking, creating words, reformulating paradigms. I strongly recommend this essay to anybody who is interested in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict or in the role of philosophy in solving any of such conflicts.

Let us move into the thick of it. At the end of his essay, Dascal brings forth the following Talmudic legend (actually the legend is not in the Talmud but in the rabbinic collections of exegetical material known as Midrashim, more precisely Bereshit Rabba 8):

It was a tie; the heavenly vote was split right down the middle - two in favor; two against. At issue -- "Should man be created?" The ministering angels formed parties: Love said, "Yes, let him be created, because he will dispense acts of love"; while Truth argued, "No, let him not be created, for he is a complete fake". Righteousness countered, "Yes, let him be created, because he will do righteous deeds"; and Peace demurred, "Let him not be created, for he is one mass of contention". The score was even: Love and Righteousness in favor, Truth and Peace against.

What did the Lord do? He took Truth and hurled it to the ground, smashing it into thousands of jagged pieces. As it is written, "and he hurls Truth to the ground." (Daniel 8.12) Thus he broke the tie. Now, two to one in favor, man was created. The ministering angels dared to ask the Master of the Universe, "Why do You break Your emblem, Truth?", for indeed Truth was his seal and emblem. He answered, "Let truth spring from the earth" (Psalms 85.12).

Adon Pronek asks:

1. Why Truth and not (for example) Righteousness or Peace?

2. Is the Lord's will to create man so powerful that he decides to destroy any tie by shattering whatever will oppose its creation?

3. Destroying your emblem: a metaphor for extremely harsh sacrifice?

4. How can truth spring from earth?

1. The easy reason why it is Truth and not any of the others is that there is not an easily recognizable prooftext for the others. The text from Daniel (which Dascal does not quote) is readily available. This is one of the ways in which Midrash works, connecting two seemingly unconnected pieces of Scripture in a narrative fashion.

The more complex answer involves an answer to question 2. Truth is identified in many places of rabbinic literature as God's seal, as God's unique possession. From an epistemological perspective, this claim can be translated into the statement that Objective Truth can only be attained by God. Man is forever limited to partial representations of reality (whether this happens according to a Kantian model or a Protagorean one is up for grabs).

The Midrash brought by Dascal is substantiated by other Midrashim that are even more radical. In one of them, God asks a group of ministering angels if man should be created (all of these Midrashim are based on the plural voice used in Genesis 1.26 to describe the creation of Man 'Let us- na'aseh- make Man in our image according to our likeness'). When they answer negatively when shown the future wickedness of man, God destroys the angels. The same thing happens with a second group of angels. The third group of angels, catching on, approve of the creation of Man, adding with irony "Whatever Thou Willest, Thou doest. What does it matter what we say?!" Even when confronted by these angels when God brings on the deluge, He defends his decision (Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 38a).

Another Midrash transfers the moral dilemma of creating a man with potential for evil to God's own consciousness. When God was going to create Man he saw the righteous issuing from him and the wicked issuing from him. He thought, "If I create Him, wicked men will issue from him. But if I do not create him, how will the righteous issue from him?" What did He do? He removed the ways of the wicked from his sight, excercised mercy and created man. (Yalkut Shimeoni on Genesis 1).

God knows that Man will inevitably make mistakes and commit great evils, nevertheless Man's potential for good is more important that this certainty. This is not tantamount to the Christian doctrine of Original Sin. There is no fault for which man needs to atone. Man's fundamental predisposition for evil is not Man's fault; which does not mean that it is not his responsibility. Man is obligated to act on his ability to do good.

This positive theological anthropology is based on the seemingly pessimistic idea that the world as a whole is imperfect. Only God is perfect. If God were to judge the world according to His strict standards of what should be (called in the Talmud middat haddin -the attribute of justice, strictness), the world as a whole would not be able to continue existing. The only way that the world can exist as something other than God (and therefore imperfect), He has to exercise his attribute of mercy –middat harachamim- i.e. the understanding for the world otherness, for the world's potential for imperfection. Thus, Truth, as God's "objective and realistic" approach to reality cannot stand in the face of the benefits of existence.

3. More than a personal sacrifice, I interpret God's breaking of His emblem as His acknowledgement that the world has to operate according to different rules, the world cannot be on God's team (carry His emblem). This does not mean, as many Gnostics claimed, that the world is opposed to God, that it is Godless. Rather it cannot be identified with God's personal sign: it has to have its own particularity and peculiarity. (This foreshadows the Lurianic Kabbalah's idea of tzimzum -contraction-. Before the world was created, God was everything and there was no place for anything but God. Therefore, in order to create the World, God contracted Himself and left a space without God that could be filled with the World.)

4. The original context of the prooftext (Psalm 85.11-2) shapes the narrative structure of the Midrash: “Love and truth meet, justice and peace kiss. Truth springs from the earth, justice looks down from heaven." As any verse it is open to interpretation. Yet, in light of the Midrashim quoted and the philosophical analysis we have structured, I think that one interpretation seems more appealing than others. Truth as an absolute value belongs only to God. Yet, for us, imperfect beings, truth must spring from the earth. It has to be built from our initial, earthly, imperfect, perspectives. This is what Aristotle calls in the first book of the Physics (184a17-21) the pros heemas -according to us- approach to knowledge from which every inquiry begins, as opposed to the kath' auto approach -in itself, absolutely. Truth is not something that is achieved but rather it blossoms from our collective efforts of inquiry. Indeed the word from the Psalms, titzmach, means to bloom or to grow (it comes from the three letter root that means “plant” tz’m’ch). This truth will never be God's, but it is a "just so" truth that fits unruly yet merciful creatures such as we, wandering and wondering sons and daughters of Adam.

Any takers?