In last week’s Torah portion, Korach, the story is not obviously edifying. The passage describes an episode during the wanderings in Sinai in which Korach and 250 other Israelites rose up in rebellion against Moses and Aaron’s leadership, accusing them of raising themselves “above God’s congregation.” Moses responds that it is God who “makes known who is to serve” and that “…it is against God that you and all your company have banded together.” What follows is brutal. The Earth “bursts asunder” and Korach and his followers were swallowed alive. It is hard to draw much redeeming value from this story.
Interestingly, the Rabbis of the second century who wrote Pirkei Avot seem to have agreed with this assessment.
A passage in Pirkei Avot teaches that there are two types of disputes, those that are “in the name of heaven” – l’shem shamayim – and those that are not in the name of heaven – she’einah l’shem shamayim. It states that “Every dispute that is for the sake of Heaven, will in the end endure; But one that is not for the sake of Heaven, will not endure.”
The text provides examples of both:
“Which is an example of a dispute for the sake of Heaven? The dispute between Hillel and Shammai. What is an example of one not for the sake of Heaven? The dispute of Korach and all his company.” (Pirkei Avot 5:17)
I recently spoke about this passage at our synagogue, where I presented a d’var torah on parashat Korach, drawing on my experience over the past two years as a Fellow in the Sinai and Synapses program.
The Sinai and Synapses Fellowship brought together eighteen individuals with widely different faith traditions and scientific backgrounds to talk about religion and science, exploring where our perspectives intersected, where they diverged, and where we found both agreement and dispute. The program’s stated goal was that this dialogue could contribute to “bridging the religious and scientific worlds” and might offer “a world view that is scientifically grounded and spiritually uplifting.”
This rabbinic commentary on Korach provides a useful framework for considering the disputes between science and religion. Are such disputes “in the name of heaven” – l’shem shamayim – or not in the name of heaven – she’einah l’shem shamayim? It also provided me with perspective on my Sinai and Synapses fellowship and what this program accomplishes.
For those who envision disputes between science and religion as resembling the 1960 movie Inherit the Wind, I should point out that they rarely resemble Spencer Tracy’s interrogation of Fredric March, who was prosecuting Dick York’s character for teaching evolution in public schools. There is rarely a judge like Harry Morgan or a defendant married to a witch. There is rarely a jury or verdict and, hopefully, no one dies at the end.
That is not to say that there are not profound differences of perspective. While each of the Sinai and Synapses Fellows came to the program with sincere interests in both science and religion, these differences were readily apparent. At considerable risk of oversimplifying issues that are often very personal, let me describe several.
One perspective represented in our discussion was that of faith in a provident and personal God. One example of this is evident in The Catechism of the Catholic Church, which teaches that “Faith is certain. It is more certain than all human knowledge because it is founded on the very word of God who cannot lie.” The Catechism continues, “the certainty that the divine light gives is greater than that which the light of natural reason gives. Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt.”
Science in this context is not, in itself, a source of truth, but rather a source of evidence for divine providence or even for creation. This perspective is evident in scientists who view math, physics, or the human genome as being the “language of God.”
Faith was not central to all religious perspectives. There is actually no word for “faith” in biblical Hebrew. The word often translated as faith – emunah – is more properly interpreted as “faithfulness” rather than “belief ” and is often used to describe the faithfulness of God, rather than believers.
The Jewish statement that is often considered to be a statement of faith – the Shema – states that one should “hear” that there is one God – Adonai echad – and does not state that one needs to “believe.” This perspective is also evident in the phrase from Exodus na’aseh v’nishma — “We will do and we will hear.” Na’aseh v’nishma has been interpreted as teaching that one is not expected to have faith a priori, but rather to commit to action, to study, and to the type of dialectical dispute embodied in Talmud for the purposes of achieving belief. In this view, science is not only a source of insight into Go’’s creation, but a source of truth about God. In Guide to the Perplexed, Maimonides even considers the possibility that science can contradict scripture. In considering Aristotle’s concept of an eternal universe and its apparent contradictions with divine creation, Maimonides concludes “If…Aristotle had a proof for his theory, the whole teaching of Scripture would be rejected, and we should be forced to other opinions.”
Finally, the scientific perspective often leaves little space for traditional concepts of faith. Science characteristically rejects concepts that cannot be subjected to mathematical or experimental verification or falsification. Science implicitly assumes that the universe, the human mind, and even human society can be explained by fundamental scientific principles, recognizing that these principles may not yet have been fully elaborated, and may prove to be too complex or chaotic to be fully comprehended by human beings. While some scientists see evidence for God in the gaps of human knowledge and the complexity that seems to overwhelm human intellect, this limited notion of a deity is far removed from the creator and provident God recognized by organized religion.
Are the disputes between these perspectives l’shem shamayim – in the name of heaven – or she’einah l’shem shamayim – not in the name of heaven?
I would suggest that the answer is up to us.
Rabbinical commentary teaches that Korach’s rebellion was not in the name of heaven because it was about usurping power rather than understanding God. For those who may remember the ending of Inherit the Wind, Spencer Tracy’s cross-examination of Fredric March’s character reveals that the prosecution was driven by vainglory and his frustrated presidential ambitions. There are certainly many analogous cases today where scientific or religious arguments are being used as tools for achieving prestige, political advantage, or power or even as weapons for disparaging others. Such disputes are not in the name of Heaven.
Rabbinic commentaries elaborate on how to recognize disputes that are in the name of heaven. Referring specifically to the dispute between Hillel and Shamai, the rabbis taught:
“Both these and those are the words of the living God.” (Eruvin 13b)
Subsequent commentaries teach that the way we know that Hillel and Shamai both spoke the words of God and that their disputes were in the name of heaven is that they were agreeable and forbearing, not easily offended, and did not insist on their own honor. Neither put their views forward to achieve prestige or power; neither was concerned with proving that they were right and the other was wrong.
That is certainly what I experienced in Sinai and Synapses. While my colleagues often had substantially different perspectives on aspects of religion or science, we were capable of engaging in a dialectic with the expectation that our disputes would lead to better understandings of both. I came away from the program with profound respect and gratitude for each of my colleagues, their experiences, perspectives, and patience, and their willingness to listen, teach, and engage in dialectical debate. The work we did was an affirmation of na’aseh v’nishma; by committing to do, to study, and to a dialectic, I gained a deeper understanding of faith and the perspectives of my colleagues, but also greater clarity concerning my own views.
If these are the criteria by which we recognize a dispute to be machloket l’shem shamayim, then I have no doubt that our disputes, like those between Hillel and Shamai, were in the name of heaven. These criteria may also be applied to disputes in contemporary society to differentiate those that are in the name of heaven from those that are not.
0 Comments