There is a fascinating debate in the rabbinic literature about how far rabbinic authority goes. It is an argument over two words in a verse in Deuteronomy (17; 11) that admonishes the people of Israel not to deviate from the word of the Torah “right and left” yamin u’smol. The dispute sheds light on what some rabbis thought about their followers and themselves.

This particular verse is very significant for the rabbis over the generations, because the Talmudists shrewdly manipulate the words in a way that constructs rabbis as exclusive agents of the word of God. “Do not deviate”, they argue, is a commandment meant for the mere plebian Jews who are too boorish to know what the Torah means. These run-of-the-mill Jews need rabbis to reveal God’s intentions. “Do not deviate” gave rabbis justification to invent a plethora of practices – such as lighting Shabbat candles or washing hands before eating bread – and claim that they are directly from God. Jews funnily recite the words, “…as God sanctified us and commanded us”, over some of these customs, even though they are not written in the Torah. The rabbis said, so it’s as if it’s from God. Do not deviate.   

Rabbinical cleverness has often served us well. The rabbis created, for example, the notion of pikuach nefesh, that saving of a life justifies breaking Shabbat. Apparently in non-rabbinical Jewish communities, such as the Ethiopian Jewish community pre-Aliyah, the concept of pikuach nefesh doesn’t exist. So that, for example, years ago when a group of Ethiopian boarding school students in Israel watched the fire department extinguish a blaze on Shabbat – which is against the bible – the kids refused to return to the boarding school because in their view, putting out the fire was a violation of Judaism.  

The idea of pikuach nefesh, the primacy of saving a life, may be a biblical fiction, but it’s a good one. The rabbis who invented it listened to their own hearts and understood right from wrong, and shared that with all of us.

As arbiters of change, the rabbis have made many rules over the generations that radically alter the letter of the Torah, such as allowing Israeli banks to charge interest, allowing Israeli farmers to grow crops in the seventh year, allowing Jews to keep bread hidden in their closets over Passover, and more. They have changed everything except arguably (in Orthodoxy at least) the status of women in marriage and in leadership because, well, that is apparently just going too far.

In any case, in a class this week with Rabbi Shlomo Fox at Hebrew Union College, we discussed these issues along with a particularly riveting set of rabbinic writings on these verses. We first read an interpretation by Rashi, Rabbi Shlomo Yitzhaki, one of the primary medieval commentators on the Bible and Talmud. Rashi wanted to know what the Torah meant by “right and left”, and he wrote, “Even if [your rabbis] show you something that is ‘right’ and say that it is ‘left’ – listen to them.” The Ramban, Nachmanides, another medieval biggie, agreed, adding that if you think that they are calling “right” “left”, you must be wrong because “the spirit of God” is with them and therefore you should never abandon them or doubt them.  

This attitude, I said in class, is dangerous and has been used by cult leaders throughout the ages to engineer group behavior. I believe, in fact, that this is part of the mind control that is at the root of all evil. “All evil?” one of my classmates asked, mockingly. “Well”, I backed down slightly, “things like terror, religious radicalism, or the alt right.” I wanted to say, “Trump supporters”, too, but worried that it would be offensive. But I stand by the principle. When people are taught that they cannot question their leaders or think for themselves, bad things happen. The closing off of the human mind, the banning of free-thought, the demand for absolute obedience to leaders – especially when you know they are wrong – is frightening.  And it does not end well, not for individuals nor for the world at large.

I have been writing about the importance of thinking for ourselves for a while. I have been sharing one of the formative moments in my decision to become a Reform rabbi, when a woman described in a FB thread how she has been covering her hair for 17 years and hates it with a passion and wishes she didn’t have to do it – and when I chimed in that she should consider not doing it if she hates it so much, I was pilloried. “You can’t just do whatever you want!” was the main theme, followed by accusations that I’m not a “real” feminist because I’m telling another woman what to do (which I wasn’t, by the way), and concluded with the original poster calling me an “angry outsider” for writing that way. I wasn’t writing from anger but rather from compassion. Yet, the suggestion that we listen to our own hearts rendered me “outsider”. I realized then the power of the idea that correct Jews should do what they are told and not think for themselves or act differently from the pack. Even though everyone will argue with this and say that of course they are independent thinkers, when push comes to shove, people who dare to disobey are often branded in many awful and ugly ways. The pressure to obey and conform can be fierce.

This has been going on for generations. Rashi and Ramban, among others, promoted the idea of mindless obedience even as they encouraged Torah learning. This concept has been passed down from generation to generation, with power and pain. And it has left many people doing things that they often do not want to be doing – such as 17 years of manipulating one’s body in order to accommodate some misguided rabbinic concepts about correct femininity (i.,e., silent and invisible)

Luckily, the Jewish tradition is replete with disagreements. Rashi’s and Ramban’s views actually contradict a much earlier source – the Jerusalem Talmud – in a text (JT Horayot 1;1) from the fourth century at the latest, which says exactly the opposite. “Could it be that when they tell you that right is left and left is right that you should listen to them? That is what they mean, ‘Right and left’. Only when they tell you that right is right and left is left.”

Whew. That is much better.

The Jerusalem Talmud is calling right right, while Rashi and Nachmanides are calling right left. But I can choose what to believe. I can tell the difference between right and left, or in this case, between right and wrong.

If your teacher is telling you that right is left, you do not have to listen. The Jerusalem Talmud says that you can and should be thinking for yourself.

Ultimately, the only way any of us can hear the words of God is through our own minds and hearts. We are all created in the Divine image, so the voice of God is inside our own souls. If we hear something out there in the world that contradicts something that our heart deeply feels, we are meant to heed that inner voice because it is connected to the divine spark within us.  

These are the ideas that I am keeping in mind as I listen to the people around me, as I explore what kind of rabbi I want to be, and decide what kind of human being I want to be in the world.  I don’t want to blindly follow anyone, I don’t want anyone blindly following me, and in fact I have no intention of ever telling people what to do.

We can all be the arbiters of our lives. Be your own rabbi. Listen to the voice of God that dwells in your heart.

 

Dr. Elana Maryles Sztokman is an award-winning author on issues of Judaism, Israel and gender, and a rabbinical student at Hebrew Union College, Jerusalem.