Sermon Erev Rosh Hashanah 2006: Which came first, the text or the opinion?

One warm and sunny afternoon last Spring, I joined the Progressive Jewish Alliance and hundreds of thousands of immigrants and citizens as we marched down Wilshire Boulevard to support the rights of foreign laborers. As I looked around me, I couldn’t help but notice all of the people carrying posters and banners in support of the immigrants’ cause. More often than not, the heavily Catholic community waved signs quoting the Bible. The memories of Abraham, Moses and Jesus were invoked as famous immigrants. Another sign reminded the crowd that the Bible commands us to love our neighbor as ourselves and to look out for the poor and weary. As a rabbinical student, I was simply amazed by the proliferation of biblical referencing throughout the crowd.
Interestingly enough, several counter protests emerged along the sidewalk. And here, anti-immigration demonstrators collected and offered their own biblical quotation banners. We marchers were reminded that stealing and lying are sins. All God asks is that we obey the rule of law, one sign said. And so it went, protestors on either side of the street, swinging their signs and offering words of scripture like bombs into the other’s crowd.
What do we make of this? In an era of religious revivalism, scripture has become a weapon. The Bible is quoted in nearly every contemporary debate, most often by both sides of the issue. Name the topic: gay marriage, abortion, immigration, tax reform, stem cell research, social security, the environment; and God seems to be either very confused or playing both sides like a sly double agent. As the Bible is considered the ultimate authority on moral issues, each side engages in an arms race for relevant Bible quotes. Yes, its sad but true, scripture has become the atom bomb of moral debate. And as the media offers new levels of senselessness in Paula Zahn or Bill O’Reilly’s latest biblical commentaries (example: Is the conflict with Iran an indication of the coming rapture?) we are left to wonder: Is the Bible an effective proof text for contemporary issues?
The problem is that the Bible has perhaps too much to say on current issues. There is so much material and such a range of views that if we were to read the Bible literally, we could find justification for just about anything. Why not try? For instance, we might decide to sell our daughters into slavery (as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7); then kill any of them that may have become rebellious (Deuteronomy 21:21), then murder any other family members who might convert out of Judaism (Deuteronomy 13:11). Or when considering rape cases, we could read the Bible literally and decide we should kill the victim along with the perpetrator, as illustrated in Deuteronomy 22:24. Along these lines, I’ve constructed my own banner for the next local Darfur rally:
(Hold up sign which reads)
You must doom them to destruction: grant them no terms and give them no quarter... you shall tear down their altars, smash their pillars, cut down their sacred posts, and consign their images to the fire.

Save Darfur!

Yes, its true, you could even use the Torah as a proof text to condone genocide. While all of this makes for an entertaining exercise in absurdity, the Torah strictly prohibits each of the crimes mentioned in other sections. And that’s just the point: The Bible is a winding, nonlinear document written by various people at various times. When people believed one thing, they put it in there. When opinion changed, the scripture was augmented. But seldom if ever was anything erased. For example, when the Israelites were fighting a battle to maintain their society against foreign intrusion, the text commanded them to wipe out the enemy in violent terms. In calmer times, murder was strictly forbidden, like in the Ten Commandments. Similarly, when capital punishment was in vogue, sections like “an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth” were written but then softened elsewhere in the torah.
The winding nature of Torah doesn’t end here. Centuries of rabbinic commentary further revised the text to the point that it can no longer be referenced on its own. Eye for an eye was interpreted by the rabbis to mean monetary compensation rather than brutal retribution. Or continuing with the example of capital punishment, the rabbis of the Talmud abolished it altogether.
Thus because of the winding, revised nature of Torah, the text is entirely two-sided on just about every issue. And furthermore, the rabbinic tradition further modifies the text so much that we can no longer depend on scripture alone. Which leaves us with the question: If the text can be read both ways, how do we garner our values from it? In short, do we deduce our values from the text (in a process known as exegesis) or simply use the text to justify our preconceived opinions (in a process known as isogesis)? Or in simpler terms, which comes first, the opinion or the text?
I believe that this question was answered succinctly in the Winter of 2003 with the Terry Schiavo case. As I’m sure you all remember, Terry Schiavo had remained in a persistent vegetative state since collapsing of cardiac arrest in 1990. When her husband petitioned the court to remove her feeding tube and allow her to die, the case made national headlines, even finding its way into the halls of Congress. Suddenly, we had Bill Frist standing before congress and diagnosing Ms. Schiavo based on a few seconds of videotape footage (pretending to write - note to self: find new doctor). Meanwhile, biblical quotes were lobbed like snowballs from one side of the aisle to the other. Overall… it seemed as though God had mixed feelings.
But perhaps the most interesting debate occurred within the Jewish world, which stirred with activity. Now the Jewish view on assisted suicide actually comes from an extremely obscure passage in the Shulchan Aruch, a legal code written in the 16th century by the kabbalist and legalist Joseph Caro. The source does not even come from the text itself. It can only be found in Rabbi Moshe Isserles’ Ashkenazi commentary to the Sephardic Shulchan Aruch, book Yoreh Deah, chapter 339 section 1 (Yes, its so obscure that it comes from a footnote to a regional second edition). Isserles argues that if a moribund patient is kept alive by a natural cause, such as allergies to their pillow, we are forbidden from removing that object so that the person may die. However, if a moribund patient is kept alive by an unnatural cause, such as the noise of someone chopping wood outside the patient’s window, then the woodchopper may be silenced so that the person may die. (Yoreh Deah 339:1)
As you can see, there is a very fine line drawn here. Does the feeding tube constitute a natural sustainer of life, like the pillow, or an artificial sustainer of life, like the woodchopper?
On a report aired on NPR, this question was asked of American rabbis. And here is where things got interesting: Every single Orthodox rabbi interpreted the text to mean that the feeding tube was natural like a pillow and therefore had to be maintained. And of course, every Reform rabbi interpreted the text to mean that it was an artificial life support like the woodchopper and thus had to be removed. Now was this pure coincidence that the rabbis just happened to interpret the text along the lines of their movement’s stances? Of course not!
Clearly both sides had formulated their opinions a priori, that is, before they were confronted with the text. Otherwise surely there would have been some dissension amongst rabbis within the same movement. Since when have you heard of two rabbis having the same opinion, much less dozens? This example clearly illustrates what so many of us have known all along: Most often, biblical text does not inform peoples’ opinions but rather is used as fodder to prop up their preconceived notions. If this is the case, then the Bible carries no weight as a proof text for contemporary issues. The protestors on Wilshire Boulevard are presenting a circular argument. You can’t reference a form of evidence that supports either side, depending upon their pre-held beliefs.
Ironically, the rabbis of the Talmud reached the very same conclusion centuries ago. In a famous section of the Talmud (Baba Metzia 59b), Rabbi Eliezer is engaged in an argument with his colleagues’ ruling over Jewish law. In a fantastic fury, Eliezer declares that if he is right, the carob tree next to him will prove it. Immediately whoosh! The carob tree flies 100 feet away. The other rabbis are not impressed. Further enraged, Rabbi Eliezer announces that if he is right, the stream of water will flow backwards. The water shifts direction, yet the rabbis remain indifferent. Again he announces, if the law agrees with him, the walls of the house of study will prove it. The walls begin to slant, yet the rabbis are unmoved. We can see that the tradition of Jewish stubbornness has a long and lustrous history. Finally, Rabbi Eliezer declares, “If I am right, let it be proved from Heaven!” Whereupon God’s voice booms out: “Rabbi Eliezer is right!” Showing that the Jewish tradition of chutzpah has an equally lustrous history, Rabbi Joshua takes up the argument with God. He replies: “Lo b’shamayim hee – that is, It is not in heaven.” The Talmud continues: What did he mean by this? Rabbi Jeremiah interpreted: “That since the Torah had already been given at Mount Sinai; we pay no attention to a heavenly voice. And as that was very long ago, we now follow the majority.” To this, God laughs with joy, saying, “My children have defeated me; my children have defeated me.”
Rabbi Joshua is saying that the rabbis and not God will determine what God meant in the Torah. This is a revolutionary view – the rabbis of the Talmud are essentially superceding God and giving themselves authority in interpreting the text according to their sensibilities. And this rabbinic authority is inherited by each of us here today. We have the right and responsibility to weigh the text in concert with our sense of right and wrong. Or as Thomas Jefferson once wrote, “Question with boldness even the existence of God, because, if there be one, he must more approve the homage of reason than that of blindfolded fear.” (Suarez, 19)
The rabbis acquired the authority of interpretation from the torah itself. God sanctions it in Deuteronomy 17. In it, God commands that if a criminal, civil or class action case arises to which there is no clear law in the torah, the case should be brought before a judge who will declare a binding judgment. Therefore, in complex modern issues such as stem cell research or gay marriage, we have the unequivocal authority to make decisions outside of the original text. The torah explicitly makes room for the future extension of the lawgiving process. Otherwise, the rabbis would have lacked the authority to begin the Talmud in the first place!
So what have we learned? Well, biblical citations addressing current issues fail to hold water for three reasons: 1. Because the Bible is a winding, contradictory document that says different things at different times; 2. Because its clear that people bring their preconceived values to the text rather than garner them from it. 3. Jewish tradition puts ultimate legal authority not in the text but rather in our interpretation according to modern sensibility. What does this add up to? That using scripture alone as the ultimate proof text for contemporary issues is both ineffective and incongruous with the Jewish tradition that grew out of the Torah.
Now I’m not saying that the Torah is ambivalent on all moral issues. Clearly, several major themes emerge and are confirmed in scripture time and time again. Life is sacred. Peace is better than war. People deserve our love and respect. As Hillel famously said to one of his students, “Do unto others as you would want done to you. The rest is commentary”. No one can argue against the Torah making these broad moral arguments. But the Judaism which we come together to celebrate today is based squarely upon the nitty-gritty rabbinic interpretation of text, a process which continues today and gives each of us the chance to add our two cents. In 10 days we will observe Yom Kippur. What does the Torah tell us to do that day? To rest and to practice self-denial. That’s it! Nothing else. Everything from observance to liturgy is based on later interpretations of the text. Judaism itself is a rabbinic innovation of the Torah.
So what then is the point of studying Torah if not to answer the specific moral dilemmas of our day? Torah may teach us that life is sacred, but what does it offer us in specific instances such as the Terry Schaivo case?
Here’s the answer: The Torah is meant to be a beginning rather than an end. It is the foundation upon which the edifice of Jewish tradition is built. It should inspire, motivate and spark our inner imagination. The Torah opens our minds to great moral debates, heroes and tragedies, life and death. The stories give us examples of situations we all come to face, analogies that offer insight into the human condition. It is the beginning of an open-ended conversation with our community and ourselves. But it is not the only voice to be regarded – it must be used with sensitivity. The modern Jew must integrate the teaching of the torah with the values of the day and the long tradition of Jewish interpretation.
Rosh Hashanah is an extremely personal and emotional holiday. In transitional moments such as these, Torah aught serve as our guide, not a proof-text. After all, the Bible is meant to be read, not thumped. It is the tool by which we may renew ourselves tonight. The Torah is written in our language so that we may mechadesh ha’olam – renew our world. Rather than a weapon, the Torah is a device that we make our own when we engage the text openly and without agenda.
Therefore, I have designed my own protest banner, suitable for use at your next political rally, pro wrestling event, Ice Capades, what have you. So when the person next to you holds up a sign featuring a religious quotation, you can show them this:
(Hold up the sign)
“Since the Torah has already been given at Mount Sinai; we pay no attention to a heavenly voice. As that was very long ago, we now follow the majority.” (Babylonian Talmud, Baba Metzia 59b)

You may have to explain to them what the sign means, but after all, the whole point of studying Torah is interpretation. Who knows? You might just find yourself with a new chevruta study partner!
Or maybe its time that we forget about signs altogether and use our brains instead. As we renew ourselves for the coming year, may we create opportunities for intersection and collaboration and not stubborn opposition. Rather than dig in our heels, let us open our minds and hearts and allow the text take us wherever it may lead us. Proof texts are natural conversation enders. Let us find in Torah a new beginning. After all, as the Torah proves….I mean says: “It is a tree of life to those who cling to it and all of its paths are paths of peace.”
Shana Tova and Shabbat Shalom