Neither Fully Free Nor Fully Submissive: Exploring Jewish Obligation in the Contemporary American Milieu
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ShareHow do our American notions of freedom and rights jive with our Jewish sense of commandedness toward God and toward others? We will explore traditional and contemporary notions of obligation to ask, ‘To whom and to what are we commanded today?’
Rabbi Aaron Starr
April 7, 2022
Rabbi Aaron Starr
April 7, 2022
מחזיר את הקערה אל השולחן. המצות תִהיינה מגלות בִשעת אמירת ההגדה.
עֲבָדִים הָיִינוּ לְפַרְעֹה בְּמִצְרָיִם, וַיּוֹצִיאֵנוּ ה' אֱלֹקֵינוּ מִשָּׁם בְּיָד חֲזָקָה וּבִזְרֹעַ נְטוּיָה. וְאִלּוּ לֹא הוֹצִיא הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא אֶת אֲבוֹתֵינוּ מִמִּצְרָיִם, הֲרֵי אָנוּ וּבָנֵינוּ וּבְנֵי בָנֵינוּ מְשֻׁעְבָּדִים הָיִינוּ לְפַרְעֹה בְּמִצְרָיִם. וַאֲפִילוּ כֻּלָּנוּ חֲכָמִים כֻּלָּנוּ נְבוֹנִים כֻּלָּנוּ זְקֵנִים כֻּלָּנוּ יוֹדְעִים אֶת הַתּוֹרָה מִצְוָה עָלֵינוּ לְסַפֵּר בִּיצִיאַת מִצְרָיִם. וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה לְסַפֵּר בִּיצִיאַת מִצְרַיִם הֲרֵי זֶה מְשֻׁבָּח.
He puts the plate back on the table. The matsot should be uncovered during the saying of the Haggadah.
We were slaves to Pharaoh in the land of Egypt. And the Lord, our God, took us out from there with a strong hand and an outstretched forearm. And if the Holy One, blessed be He, had not taken our ancestors from Egypt, behold we and our children and our children's children would [all] be enslaved to Pharaoh in Egypt. And even if we were all sages, all discerning, all elders, all knowledgeable about the Torah, it would be a commandment upon us to tell the story of the exodus from Egypt. And anyone who adds [and spends extra time] in telling the story of the exodus from Egypt, behold he is praiseworthy.
(א) וַיֹּ֤אמֶר ה' אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה בֹּ֖א אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה וְדִבַּרְתָּ֣ אֵלָ֗יו כֹּֽה־אָמַ֤ר ה' אֱלֹקֵ֣י הָֽעִבְרִ֔ים שַׁלַּ֥ח אֶת־עַמִּ֖י וְיַֽעַבְדֻֽנִי׃
(1) ה' said to Moses, “Go to Pharaoh and say to him, ‘Thus says ה', the God of the Hebrews: Let My people go to worship Me.
(כא) וְאָמַרְתָּ֣ לְבִנְךָ֔ עֲבָדִ֛ים הָיִ֥ינוּ לְפַרְעֹ֖ה בְּמִצְרָ֑יִם וַיֹּצִיאֵ֧נוּ ה' מִמִּצְרַ֖יִם בְּיָ֥ד חֲזָקָֽה׃ (כב) וַיִּתֵּ֣ן ה' אוֹתֹ֣ת וּ֠מֹפְתִ֠ים גְּדֹלִ֨ים וְרָעִ֧ים ׀ בְּמִצְרַ֛יִם בְּפַרְעֹ֥ה וּבְכׇל־בֵּית֖וֹ לְעֵינֵֽינוּ׃ (כג) וְאוֹתָ֖נוּ הוֹצִ֣יא מִשָּׁ֑ם לְמַ֙עַן֙ הָבִ֣יא אֹתָ֔נוּ לָ֤תֶת לָ֙נוּ֙ אֶת־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר נִשְׁבַּ֖ע לַאֲבֹתֵֽינוּ׃ (כד) וַיְצַוֵּ֣נוּ ה' לַעֲשׂוֹת֙ אֶת־כׇּל־הַחֻקִּ֣ים הָאֵ֔לֶּה לְיִרְאָ֖ה אֶת־ה' אֱלֹקֵ֑ינוּ לְט֥וֹב לָ֙נוּ֙ כׇּל־הַיָּמִ֔ים לְחַיֹּתֵ֖נוּ כְּהַיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּֽה׃ (כה) וּצְדָקָ֖ה תִּֽהְיֶה־לָּ֑נוּ כִּֽי־נִשְׁמֹ֨ר לַעֲשׂ֜וֹת אֶת־כׇּל־הַמִּצְוָ֣ה הַזֹּ֗את לִפְנֵ֛י ה' אֱלֹקֵ֖ינוּ כַּאֲשֶׁ֥ר צִוָּֽנוּ׃ {ס}
(21) you shall say to your children, “We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt and ה' freed us from Egypt with a mighty hand. (22) ה' wrought before our eyes marvelous and destructive signs and portents in Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his household; (23) and us [God] freed from there, in order to take us and give us the land promised on oath to our fathers. (24) Then ה' commanded us to observe all these laws, to revere our God ה', for our lasting good and for our survival, as is now the case. (25) It will be therefore to our merit before our God ה' to observe faithfully this whole Instruction, as [God] has commanded us.”
וְאָמַר רַבִּי חֲנִינָא וּמָה מִי שֶׁאֵינוֹ מְצֻוֶּוה וְעוֹשֶׂה כָּךְ מְצֻוֶּוה וְעוֹשֶׂה עַל אַחַת כַּמָּה וְכַמָּה דְּאָמַר רַבִּי חֲנִינָא גָּדוֹל מְצֻוֶּוה וְעוֹשֶׂה מִמִּי שֶׁאֵינוֹ מְצֻוֶּוה וְעוֹשֶׂה אָמַר רַב יוֹסֵף מֵרֵישׁ הֲוָה אָמֵינָא מַאן דַּהֲוָה אָמַר לִי הֲלָכָה כְּרַבִּי יְהוּדָה דְּאָמַר סוֹמֵא פָּטוּר מִן הַמִּצְוֹת עָבֵידְנָא יוֹמָא טָבָא לְרַבָּנַן דְּהָא לָא מִיפְּקִידְנָא וְהָא עָבֵידְנָא הַשְׁתָּא דְּשַׁמְעִיתַהּ לְהָא דְּאָמַר רַבִּי חֲנִינָא גָּדוֹל מְצֻוֶּוה וְעוֹשֶׂה יוֹתֵר מִמִּי שֶׁאֵינוֹ מְצֻוֶּוה וְעוֹשֶׂה אַדְּרַבָּה מַאן דְּאָמַר לִי דְּאֵין הֲלָכָה כְּרַבִּי יְהוּדָה עָבֵידְנָא יוֹמָא טָבָא לְרַבָּנַן
And Rabbi Ḥanina says: And if this is related about one who is not commanded by the Torah to honor his father, as Dama was a gentile, and nevertheless when he performs the mitzva he is given this great reward, all the more so is one rewarded who is commanded to fulfill a mitzva and performs it. As Rabbi Ḥanina says: Greater is one who is commanded to do a mitzva and performs it than one who is not commanded to do a mitzva and performs it. Rav Yosef, who was blind, said: At first I would say: If someone would tell me that the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yehuda, who says: A blind person is exempt from fulfilling the mitzvot, I would make a festive day for the rabbis, as I am not commanded and yet I perform the mitzvot. This means my reward is very great. Now that I have heard that which Rabbi Ḥanina says: Greater is one who is commanded to do a mitzva and performs it than one who is not commanded to do a mitzva and performs it, on the contrary: If someone would tell me that the halakha is not in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yehuda, and a blind person is obligated in mitzvot, I would make a festive day for the rabbis.
(ד) שְׁמַ֖ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל ה' אֱלֹקֵ֖ינוּ ה' ׀ אֶחָֽד׃ (ה) וְאָ֣הַבְתָּ֔ אֵ֖ת ה' אֱלֹקֶ֑יךָ בְּכׇל־לְבָבְךָ֥ וּבְכׇל־נַפְשְׁךָ֖ וּבְכׇל־מְאֹדֶֽךָ׃
(4) Hear, O Israel! ה' is our God, ה' alone. (5) You shall love your God ה' with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.
(א) ואהבת. עֲשֵׂה דְּבָרָיו מֵאַהֲבָה, אֵינוֹ דוֹמֶה הָעוֹשֶׂה מֵאַהֲבָה לָעוֹשֶׂה מִיִּרְאָה, הָעוֹשֶׂה אֵצֶל רַבּוֹ מִיִּרְאָה, כְּשֶׁהוּא מַטְרִיחַ עָלָיו מַנִּיחוֹ וְהוֹלֵךְ לוֹ (שם):
(1) ואהבת AND THOU SHALT LOVE [THE LORD] — Fulfil His commands out of love, for one who acts out of love is not like him (is on a higher plane than one) who acts out of fear. He who serves his master out of fear, if he (the master) troubles him overmuch, leaves him and goes away (Sifrei Devarim 32:1).
(לא) הִנֵּ֛ה יָמִ֥ים בָּאִ֖ים נְאֻם־ה' וְכָרַתִּ֗י אֶת־בֵּ֧ית יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל וְאֶת־בֵּ֥ית יְהוּדָ֖ה בְּרִ֥ית חֲדָשָֽׁה׃ (לב) לֹ֣א כַבְּרִ֗ית אֲשֶׁ֤ר כָּרַ֙תִּי֙ אֶת־אֲבוֹתָ֔ם בְּיוֹם֙ הֶחֱזִיקִ֣י בְיָדָ֔ם לְהוֹצִיאָ֖ם מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרָ֑יִם אֲשֶׁר־הֵ֜מָּה הֵפֵ֣רוּ אֶת־בְּרִיתִ֗י וְאָנֹכִ֛י בָּעַ֥לְתִּי בָ֖ם נְאֻם־ה'׃ (לג) כִּ֣י זֹ֣את הַבְּרִ֡ית אֲשֶׁ֣ר אֶכְרֹת֩ אֶת־בֵּ֨ית יִשְׂרָאֵ֜ל אַחֲרֵ֨י הַיָּמִ֤ים הָהֵם֙ נְאֻם־ה' נָתַ֤תִּי אֶת־תּֽוֹרָתִי֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔ם וְעַל־לִבָּ֖ם אֶכְתְּבֶ֑נָּה וְהָיִ֤יתִי לָהֶם֙ לֵֽאלֹקִ֔ים וְהֵ֖מָּה יִֽהְיוּ־לִ֥י לְעָֽם׃ (לד) וְלֹ֧א יְלַמְּד֣וּ ע֗וֹד אִ֣ישׁ אֶת־רֵעֵ֜הוּ וְאִ֤ישׁ אֶת־אָחִיו֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר דְּע֖וּ אֶת־ה' כִּֽי־כוּלָּם֩ יֵדְע֨וּ אוֹתִ֜י לְמִקְּטַנָּ֤ם וְעַד־גְּדוֹלָם֙ נְאֻם־ה' כִּ֤י אֶסְלַח֙ לַֽעֲוֺנָ֔ם וּלְחַטָּאתָ֖ם לֹ֥א אֶזְכָּר־עֽוֹד׃ {ס}
(31) See, a time is coming—declares the LORD—when I will make a new covenant with the House of Israel and the House of Judah. (32) It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers, when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt, a covenant which they broke, though I espoused them—declares the LORD. (33) But such is the covenant I will make with the House of Israel after these days—declares the LORD: I will put My Teaching into their inmost being and inscribe it upon their hearts. Then I will be their God, and they shall be My people. (34) No longer will they need to teach one another and say to one another, “Heed the LORD”; for all of them, from the least of them to the greatest, shall heed Me—declares the LORD.
For I will forgive their iniquities,
And remember their sins no more.
For I will forgive their iniquities,
And remember their sins no more.
Mara Benjamin, The Obligated Self, Indiana University Press, 2018, pp. 7-9, 12-14
In the early days and months of first having a baby, the raw, immediate assault on my freedom – a freedom I had not even known I had previously enjoyed – struck me with overwhelming force. No sooner had this baby, this stranger, appeared than she held a claim on me. I was now responsible for addressing her needs and wishes, for seeking out the meaning of her unfamiliar body and its often cryptic language.
The obligation, the ought, was so powerful in those early days that it, more than delight, often took center stage in my psyche. Indeed, I longed for the simple fact of the love that I felt for her to lighten the load. It did not. At times, wonder and gratitude did temper the overwhelming sense of burden. But more often, the obligation to take care of the young creature preoccupied me to the exclusion of other emotions. I felt the terror of my power, of my vast and direct responsibility for this baby’s well-being. I was weighted down by the sheer inescapability of her.
To be an obligated self was to be subject to the law of another: the Law of the Baby. The law could not be fulfilled in abstract but only in active, embodied, material actions: soothing, feeding, cleaning, comforting, distracting, smiling, and wiping. It became the law of the crying toddler who sought out not just any, but specifically our (or my) comfort; the law of her seeking out our, or my, face for approval and interest.
The force of the Law of Another was greater than anything I could have anticipated or to which I could have assented. I had never explicitly agreed to be subject to it, although as an adult who was compos mentis, clearly I had some idea what I was getting into: I had pursued having a child, needed medical intervention for my partner to conceive, and I had eagerly (and anxiously) awaited motherhood. Nonetheless, I could not agree to the law before I was already subject to it. And once in place, I could only violate the law through inattention or frustration; I could not cast it off. I transgressed the law as often as I fulfilled it, leaving my crying baby or comfort-seeking toddler to calm herself when I could not bring myself to respond. Nonetheless, it was clear to me that there was a law, and the law applied to me by virtue of being my child’s parent.
…..
Jewish thinkers in the twentieth century responded to the challenge of a shifted intellectual, political, and social landscape by rendering obligation not as the status imposed by a commanding God on the Jewish people, but rather as the result of encounters between two subjects in everyday human relationships. The intersubjective dyad became an oasis, a realm untouchable by the liberal critique of religion and its role in the public sphere. Instead of justifying the mitzvot, the performance of which became increasingly problematic in the modern nation-state, these thinkers conceived of humans as essentially, but not practically, obligated to the other.
This restriction of obligation to the intersubjective sphere testifies both to theological creativity and, simultaneously, to the impoverishment of the scope of obligation in the modern period. The emergence of the modern liberal nation-state seemingly required the disruption if not dismantling of Jewish obligation’s traditional ritual, civil, social, political, and economic reference points. What remained was the dyadic encounter with another individual, a realm protected from the social and political critiques that continued to vex practitioners of the mitzvot.
…The cost of this approach, however, was a fully realized concept of the individual to whom the self is obligated. Most influential Jewish thinkers [e.g. Cohen, Rosenzweig, Levinas] conceived of the intersubjective encounter, and therefore of the individuals who participate in it, in decidedly abstract terms. The “other” they envisioned has no specific social location or set of needs.
…Adults’ embodied, daily experiences of obligation vis-à-vis their children offer a path forward. Taking maternal experiences as a starting point, obligation can become an alternative to both the privatized notion of obligation and the tendency toward abstraction we find in so much twentieth-century modern Jewish thought. And contrary to the construction of agency merely in terms of liberal, rational choice, a feminist examination of maternal subjectivity suggests that agency dialectically informs obligation and vice versa.
The theological implications of this pursuit are admittedly startling: if the rabbinic notion of obligation comes into felt experience most viscerally in caring for young children, then God is not an overlord but a vulnerable, dependent being who needs virtually constant attention. This concept inverts the biblical metaphorical economy, in which God is parent, not infant, and the rabbinic sources that speak of God as king and as father, not as subject or son. But since these are metaphors, one in which God is imagined as a baby invites us to name the condition of being obligated to God as being compelled and beguiled, shackled and infatuated, all at once. The care for an infant perfectly captures the pairing of command and love at the heart of rabbinic thought. If God is not only loving parent but demanding baby, we may find within ourselves the resolve to meet the demand.
In the early days and months of first having a baby, the raw, immediate assault on my freedom – a freedom I had not even known I had previously enjoyed – struck me with overwhelming force. No sooner had this baby, this stranger, appeared than she held a claim on me. I was now responsible for addressing her needs and wishes, for seeking out the meaning of her unfamiliar body and its often cryptic language.
The obligation, the ought, was so powerful in those early days that it, more than delight, often took center stage in my psyche. Indeed, I longed for the simple fact of the love that I felt for her to lighten the load. It did not. At times, wonder and gratitude did temper the overwhelming sense of burden. But more often, the obligation to take care of the young creature preoccupied me to the exclusion of other emotions. I felt the terror of my power, of my vast and direct responsibility for this baby’s well-being. I was weighted down by the sheer inescapability of her.
To be an obligated self was to be subject to the law of another: the Law of the Baby. The law could not be fulfilled in abstract but only in active, embodied, material actions: soothing, feeding, cleaning, comforting, distracting, smiling, and wiping. It became the law of the crying toddler who sought out not just any, but specifically our (or my) comfort; the law of her seeking out our, or my, face for approval and interest.
The force of the Law of Another was greater than anything I could have anticipated or to which I could have assented. I had never explicitly agreed to be subject to it, although as an adult who was compos mentis, clearly I had some idea what I was getting into: I had pursued having a child, needed medical intervention for my partner to conceive, and I had eagerly (and anxiously) awaited motherhood. Nonetheless, I could not agree to the law before I was already subject to it. And once in place, I could only violate the law through inattention or frustration; I could not cast it off. I transgressed the law as often as I fulfilled it, leaving my crying baby or comfort-seeking toddler to calm herself when I could not bring myself to respond. Nonetheless, it was clear to me that there was a law, and the law applied to me by virtue of being my child’s parent.
…..
Jewish thinkers in the twentieth century responded to the challenge of a shifted intellectual, political, and social landscape by rendering obligation not as the status imposed by a commanding God on the Jewish people, but rather as the result of encounters between two subjects in everyday human relationships. The intersubjective dyad became an oasis, a realm untouchable by the liberal critique of religion and its role in the public sphere. Instead of justifying the mitzvot, the performance of which became increasingly problematic in the modern nation-state, these thinkers conceived of humans as essentially, but not practically, obligated to the other.
This restriction of obligation to the intersubjective sphere testifies both to theological creativity and, simultaneously, to the impoverishment of the scope of obligation in the modern period. The emergence of the modern liberal nation-state seemingly required the disruption if not dismantling of Jewish obligation’s traditional ritual, civil, social, political, and economic reference points. What remained was the dyadic encounter with another individual, a realm protected from the social and political critiques that continued to vex practitioners of the mitzvot.
…The cost of this approach, however, was a fully realized concept of the individual to whom the self is obligated. Most influential Jewish thinkers [e.g. Cohen, Rosenzweig, Levinas] conceived of the intersubjective encounter, and therefore of the individuals who participate in it, in decidedly abstract terms. The “other” they envisioned has no specific social location or set of needs.
…Adults’ embodied, daily experiences of obligation vis-à-vis their children offer a path forward. Taking maternal experiences as a starting point, obligation can become an alternative to both the privatized notion of obligation and the tendency toward abstraction we find in so much twentieth-century modern Jewish thought. And contrary to the construction of agency merely in terms of liberal, rational choice, a feminist examination of maternal subjectivity suggests that agency dialectically informs obligation and vice versa.
The theological implications of this pursuit are admittedly startling: if the rabbinic notion of obligation comes into felt experience most viscerally in caring for young children, then God is not an overlord but a vulnerable, dependent being who needs virtually constant attention. This concept inverts the biblical metaphorical economy, in which God is parent, not infant, and the rabbinic sources that speak of God as king and as father, not as subject or son. But since these are metaphors, one in which God is imagined as a baby invites us to name the condition of being obligated to God as being compelled and beguiled, shackled and infatuated, all at once. The care for an infant perfectly captures the pairing of command and love at the heart of rabbinic thought. If God is not only loving parent but demanding baby, we may find within ourselves the resolve to meet the demand.