Questioning Halachah

At a Ruach retreat in the Catskills, quite a few years ago, I arrived at the reception desk in sufficient time to register before Shabbat, and found the check-in process in utter chaos. “Which cabin was I assigned”, I asked impatiently. “Grab whatever you can find”, I was told.  I ran frantically from one cabin to the next to find them all occupied. I was worn out from the day’s journey, so I settled for the dorm. That night after services and after dinner, I made my way back to the dorm to find that no one remembered to shut the lights before Shabbat and no one dared to turn them off in fear of violating the Shabbat precept regarding the use of electricity. That stifling July night eight of us slept under the glare of bare electric light bulbs. Now, I ask you, “Did that make sense?” I think Jews have been asking themselves such questions ever since our grandparents arrived at Ellis Island. Such questions were prompted once they experienced this land of multi-cultural differences.

The first question. Are we actually obligated to perform the mitzvot of the Torah or are they a product of an ancient Middle East civilization, one, which knew nothing of its surrounding world? In order to answer that question properly, we have to consider what the book of Deuteronomy has to say about the observance of mitzvot.  It explains that these commandments are to be performed after the Israelites enter the land of Canaan, the Promised Land. This brings up the problem of whether the Children of Israel actually ever crossed the Jordan River into Canaan.  Examining the text carefully, we find at the end of Deuteronomy that they still have not crossed over, but then the readings end abruptly and immediately revert to the beginning once more to Genesis 1.

What evidence exists to support whether the people actually crossed over? We also have to ask ourselves what the land of Canaan actually represents. Is it a geographical location, as the surface reading of the Torah text would lead us to believe, or is it a spiritual landscape that lies buried deep in our subconscious. From a spiritual standpoint, it appears that the crossing over represents an entrance into a higher state of spiritual consciousness, one that is beyond the grasp of ordinary mind. This image can possibly serve to inspire us to move on and strive harder towards higher reaches of consciousness.

Halachah is the Hebrew word for Jewish law. Its root “holech” means to go, or to walk. This brings up another question; does the word halachah really mean a Divine commandment or would it be better interpreted as “the way to go”? The verse in Deuteronomy 10:12 asks the question what God demands from us and offers several responses. One of which is to walk with God. How does one do that? I believe the answer would be to imagine what God would do, in any given situation, and try to follow in His footsteps. Could it be that performing mitzvot (the halachah) is how God spends His day, much like the Talmudic legend claims that God studies Talmud continuously? I find this idea appealing because by contemplating each and every mitzvah or each and every problem we face daily, we have some spiritual guidelines to follow.

Another question. Does the Torah speak to our familiar, earthly existence, or does it address our spiritual nature? If, indeed, Holy Scripture is directed towards our souls then Jewish law (halachah) must consist of ritual actions that enable us to physically portray the narrative, bringing spirit into the body. Otherwise how can we account for the current contradiction between halachah and life in the 21st Century? For example how does driving our cars on Shabbat (clearly a rabbinic violation of halachah) affect the quality of our lives?

More questions. Is halachah the constitutional law for a perfect society? Could such a perfect society exist? To answer that question, we have to understand that Judaism recognizes two Jerusalems, the heavenly Jerusalem and its earthly version. This symbol appeared around two thousand years ago in Jewish Midrashim, and has become virtually unknown. In these legends the Heavenly Jerusalem is the archetype of the “world to come,” which will be revealed to all once the Messiah arrives. At present she hovers above the earthly Jerusalem, even when the latter lies in ruin or sin; only the most righteous can see her, in moments of grace. The political battles that rage today in Israel concern the earthly Jerusalem. I contend that the halachah are the laws of the heavenly Jerusalem, which exists in the subconscious of every Jew. And if we can indeed obey the rules of the heavenly Jerusalem, then that behavior could manifest itself here on earth. If we could emulate that which takes place in heaven then perhaps we can bring those same qualities down to earth and live the life that the Torah promises, in a land of milk and honey.

We could choose to accept or reject halachah. There is apparently no penalty; at least not on the earthly plane. Perhaps in Temple times or European shtetl life, we would have been ostracized from the community, but that doesn’t exist anymore. The penalty must exist, therefore, on the spiritual plane—the infinite accumulation of causes and effects that shape our destiny. What would you like your future to look like? If halachah somehow affects our future, I leave the questions of halachah in your hands.