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TORAH OR BIBLE? |
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Jonathan Nathan |
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The task was quite simple at first, even a bit amusing; the work was
brisk, and I approached it with the same alacrity that I had for any
subject of great ease. Having successfully read the bulk of the more
unfamiliar Greek and Roman works on the Lit Hum syllabus, the thought of
reading Genesis and Exodus in a secular environment did not exactly send
a fearful chill down my spine. I felt like a hockey team returning to
home ice after a successful road trip. Imagine my relief upon realizing
that I would have a reasonably substantial mid-semester hiatus from heavy
readings due to the inclusion of "literature" so familiar that I could
recall the stories in full detail -- even if awakened at 4 a.m. Further,
I thought, the rigors of a decade of yeshiva education and a year of
study in Israel would benefit me in a class in which the text was so
familiar, if the method of study was not.
I admit an emotional disposition bordering on smugness, and, ostensibly,
my jubilation had reasonable justification. In fanning my internal
competitive fires, I asked myself whether I might ever again have such an
advantage over fellow students, and I could not find a comparable
scenario. The first class or two that covered Biblical material sustained
the basis for my optimism; all around me, students both familiar and
unfamiliar with the Bible listened with the type of respect that we rowdy
"Lit Humers" rarely afforded one another.
Many have noted that Torah has that "magical" power to draw those who
study it to a heightened emotional state, even when they do not expect
it. The occasion of the first Friday night following my initiation into
the secular world of Bible study proved this theory quite accurate. My
complacence met an abrupt emotional roadblock as I sat down to a
traditional review of the weekly Torah portion, read twice through with
Rashi's commentary. The notion of Sh'nayim Mikra V'echad Targum, twice
reviewing the weekly portion and once reading the commentary, had always
seemed like a predictable and reassuring way of plunging into the primary
piece of Jewish journalism for the week, and it distances one from the
abyss of ignorance.
After reading a few Rashis a bit rapidly and superficially, I realized
that I was not absorbing the true insight of what Rashi had meant to
present for a certain passage. Suddenly, I produced an image in my mind
of where I had been exactly one year previously in my review of the very
same Biblical portion. The city of T'zfat, historically a center of
mysticism, had been my Israeli Yeshiva's destination for that Shabbat.
Simultaneously, the picture of my Rabbi, fervently giving a complex class
on the intricacies of the same portion, attached itself to my conscience.
Although I managed to routinely complete my religious rendition of the
weekly Bible portion, the thoughts of my yeshiva study in Israel began to
recur, on a progressively larger scale, each and every time I opened up
the Standard Edition Bible used for Lit Hum. The ease with which I first
approached Lit Hum Bible study slowly transformed itself into something
more serious. Hadn't I been, just months previously, on a personal
religious peak which I had worked hard to achieve and sustain? Did I not
study the Torah in an intellectual environment defined by a dialogue of
holy pursuits spoken in holy dialect, striving to better myself in a
challenging situation. What, then, was my Core curriculum experience by
comparison? A parody of Torah study masquerading as genuine scholarship?
Because I could not conceive a comforting response at first, my
prevailing mood was that of guilt and self-doubt. Was I some sort of
traitor, possibly turning my back on the traditional mode of Torah study
in order to replace it with a new mode?
Despite my angst, a few trips to the Columbia Beit Midrash (Jewish study
hall) to study with a devoted upperclassman served to lift my spirits and
reinvigorate me. Once I understood where I was, I felt much more
comfortable. After all, instead of spending my afternoon hours studying
in the College Reading Room, I had come to the Beit Midrash, to delve
into Jewish heritage for its own sake.
The two modes of Torah study are quite distinct from one another, yet no
evaluation of one's superiority over the other can be objective. Beit
Midrash learning is a rigorous, and didactic exploration of the texts of
antiquity. Medieval scholars "slug it out" in a series of
extrapolations, textual confirmations, logic-based proofs, and
cross-scriptural references set forth in a traditional methodology, to
which any modern participants are both privileged observers and active
participants. Classroom review of the Biblical texts represents a far
more refined, aesthetic process. While I come to the Beit Midrash ready
to do battle with certain principles by which a fair war is conducted, I
see myself in the Lit Hum classroom taking a step back and viewing the
Bible in the larger context of Western literature.
There is nothing inherently wrong with the aesthetic mode of study of
the Bible--given that it takes place in a secular context. On the
contrary, it is actually a tremendous opportunity that we rarely
encounter in the world, something unique to the University experience.
In the Lit Hum context, we Jews need to clarify our traditional
understanding of our Biblical texts, and to explain our views to an
audience receptive to, or at least curious about, what traditional
Judaism--the cultural source of these world-shattering texts--has to say
about them. It should not be an occasion for pompous lecturing, at one
extreme, or for meek pandering to inaccurate interpretations on the other
hand. Instead, a moderate attitude is the key to this enjoyable,
rewarding, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
The Columbia College faculty has decided that these texts--our
texts--are among the foremost that the Western world has produced, and
they have backed up this feeling by including the texts in the Core--a
difficult "lineup" to break into (just ask our friends among the ethnic
studies advocates). Far be it for us to bemoan this inclusion. It
merely reconfirms the Torah's assertion that the content of the Bible
shall be "your wisdom and discernment to the people of the world"
(Deuteronomy 4:6). We might even discover ever new splendor in the book
of our heritage by studying it with the insight of the advanced and
critical minds of our professors. So long as we remain strong
and firm in our traditional modes of Torah study, the supplement of Core
Curriculum-style Bible study should be neither casually passed off as a
simplistic addition nor guiltily dreaded as treacherous. A happy,
balanced approach--"for its paths are pleasant paths and all its
attributes peaceful"--is most true to our Book. So a message to
freshmen and sophomores: come early for those Lit Hum and CC Bible
lessons--it'll be well worth it.
Jonathan Nathan is a Columbia College junior.
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