Monday, January 23, 2017

The Promise and Limits of R. Simhah Zissel Ziv’s Musar: A Response to Miller, Cooper, Pugh, and Peters

Geoffrey Claussen, “The Promise and Limits of R. Simhah Zissel Ziv’s Musar: A Response to Miller, Cooper, Pugh, and Peters" Journal of Jewish Ethics, vol. 3, no. 1 (2017): 154-177.
Abstract: This article is part of a roundtable discussion on Sharing the Burden: Rabbi Simḥah Zissel Ziv and the Path of Musar.  Responding to Christian Miller, I consider the tensions found in Simḥah Zissel Ziv's view of the soul, how Simḥah Zissel sees human beings as inclining toward evil, and how he tends to recommend measures that are more demanding than those typically tested by psychological researchers. Responding to Andrea Dara Cooper, I pay particular attention to Cooper's question regarding the tension between Simḥah Zissel's expansive view of fellowship and his lack of support for his family, and focuses on the constructions of gender that produce this tension. Responding to Jeffrey Pugh, I explore the clear limits to Simḥah Zissel's tolerance for criticism, questions, and disobedience. Responding to Rebecca Todd Peters, I consider various ways in which Simḥah Zissel's legacy has been appropriated, and I give particular attention to ways that his thought has been used to support critical thinking about structural injustices and social change.

The full paper is on JSTOR here.

The Kaddish, the Allegory of the Cave, and the Golden Calf: Meditations on Education and the Encounter with God

Geoffrey Claussen, “The Kaddish, the Allegory of the Cave, and the Golden Calf: Meditations on Education and the Encounter with God,” in Kaddish, ed. David Birnbaum and Martin S. Cohen (New York: New Paradigm Matrix Publishing, 2016), 307-336.
Abstract: Grounded in the idea that God is a moral ideal that invites our continual reflection and growth, and drawing on the biblical narrative of the golden calf and the Platonic allegory of the cave, this essay considers how the words of the Kaddish may help Jews encounter God through the activity of study.

The full paper is here.

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Sharing the Burden: Rabbi Simhah Zissel Ziv and the Path of Musar

Geoffrey Claussen, Sharing the Burden: Rabbi Simhah Zissel Ziv and the Path of Musar (Albany: SUNY Press, 2015).
From the publisher's description:

Sharing the Burden analyzes the rich moral traditions of the nineteenth-century Musar movement, an Eastern European Jewish movement focused on the development of moral character. Geoffrey D. Claussen focuses on that movement’s leading moral theorist, Rabbi Simḥah Zissel Ziv (1824–1898), the founder of the first Musar movement yeshiva and the first traditionalist institution in Eastern Europe that included general studies in its curriculum. Simḥah Zissel offered a unique and compelling voice within the Musar movement, joining traditionalism with a program for contemplative practice and an interest in non-Jewish philosophy. His thought was also distinguished by its demanding moral vision, oriented around an ideal of compassionately loving one’s fellow as oneself and an acknowledgment of the difficulties of moral change. Drawing on Simḥah Zissel’s writings and bringing his approach into dialogue with other models of ethics, Claussen explores Simḥah Zissel’s Jewish virtue ethics and evaluates its strengths and weaknesses. The result is a volume that will expose readers to a fascinating and important voice in the history of modern Jewish ethics and spirituality.
Available from SUNY Press, IndieBoundAmazon, etc.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

The Legacy of the Kelm School of Musar on Questions of Work, Wealth and Poverty

Geoffrey Claussen, "The Legacy of the Kelm School of Musar on Questions of Work, Wealth and Poverty,” in Wealth and Poverty in Jewish Tradition, ed. Leonard J. Greenspoon (West Lafayette, IN: Purdue University Press, 2015), 151-184.
This paper explores how a variety of contemporary Jews have drawn on the ideas of the virtue-focused Kelm school of the Musar movement in formulating visions of how the Jewish tradition should best respond to poverty.  The paper begins by exploring perspectives on wealth and poverty in the thought of the 19th century founder of the Musar movement, Rabbi Israel Salanter, and his primary disciple, Rabbi Simhah Zissel Ziv of Kelm.  I then turn to three contemporary perspectives on wealth and poverty that build on the legacy of Simhah Zissel’s Kelm school in very different ways: ultra-Orthodox rabbis who praise voluntary poverty and disdain commerce; an American rabbi and business consultant who has harnessed the ideas and practices of the Musar movement in offering a path to personal prosperity; and the development organization American Jewish World Service’s use of models from Kelm in its human-rights-focused anti-poverty work in India.  The full paper is here.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Pinḥas, the Quest for Purity, and the Dangers of Tikkun Olam

Geoffrey Claussen, “Pinhas, the Quest for Purity, and the Dangers of Tikkun Olam,” in Tikkun Olam: Judaism, Humanism and Transcendence, ed. David Birnbaum and Martin S. Cohen (New York: New Paradigm Matrix Publishing, 2015), 475-501.
This essay argues that programs for the “repair of the world” (tikkun olam) are often marked by arrogance, overzealousness, and injustice. I consider the biblical interpretations of Meir Kahane and Yitzchak Ginsburgh and point to the need to acknowledge our human limitations as we develop our visions for tikkun olam.  Part of what this essay suggests is that figures like Kahane and Ginsburgh participate in the "musar tradition" by engaging in arguments about the nature and application of various virtues and vices.  The improvement of the musar tradition, I think, requires guarding against the sorts of moral and intellectual errors that are exemplified in their teachings.

The complete essay is here.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

A Jewish Perspective on War, Scripture, and Moral Accounting

Geoffrey Claussen, “A Jewish Perspective on War, Scripture, and Moral Accounting,” The Journal of Scriptural Reasoning, vol. 14, no. 1 (2015).
Full text here, shared with permission of The Journal of Scriptural Reasoning.

In this piece, I explore how biblical texts (and the Jewish tradition more broadly) might inform decision-making about the initiation of war.  I focus on the musar tradition and the sort of moral accounting (cheshbon ha-nefesh) practices advocated by Menahem Mendel Lefin, inspired in part by Ben Franklin.  Here is the core of my argument:
Self-examination is an essential activity for everybody bearing the weighty responsibilities that come with warfare—citizens who contribute to decisions regarding war and peace, soldiers who make key decisions in the heat of battle, and especially the civilian and military policymakers who bear ultimate responsibility for decisions about whether or not to initiate wars. Politicians, perhaps above all, are often untrained in the virtues and may be especially in need of the sorts of reflective exercises that Franklin and Lefin urged. Like the Biblical kings who were easily led astray by the temptations of war, contemporary policymakers need all the scrutiny that they can get. As part of their work, policymakers grounded in the Jewish tradition might benefit from Lefin’s model of moral accounting—regularly assessing their equanimity, their justice, their humility, their honesty, and their diligence, among other virtues.
I give particular attention to the need to be “wary of the temptations that Biblical texts may offer." For example:
A policymaker seeking to take account of how well he or she acknowledges the destructive power of war might turn to one ancient understanding of the Biblical character of Abraham as he participated in the first war described in the Bible, a war which he joined in order to rescue his nephew Lot from captivity (Genesis 14). According to one midrashic interpretation attributed to Rabbi Levi, Abraham was deeply afraid that he might have killed an innocent, righteous individual in the course of the war. God affirms the validity of this concern, while reassuring Abraham that he has been miraculously shielded from such a misdeed—“Fear not, Abram,” God says. “I am a Shield to you” (Genesis 15:1). God, in this model, affirms Abraham’s misgivings, and would want future policymakers to share Abraham’s concern for innocent lives destroyed by war.
A policymaker’s accounting of one’s sense of justice should follow this Abrahamic precedent; even when military action seems to have a just cause, one should be extremely aware of the new injustices that a war might produce. And even if one can honestly anticipate that a war will save more lives than it will destroy, such that the war can be justified, one should still join Abraham in “being afraid” for every innocent life destroyed.
But a policymaker holding the midrashic narrative of Abraham before one’s eyes should be aware of the ways in which the midrash can also be used to discourage this sort of moral accounting. After all, one might understand God’s reassurance to Abraham as offering a promise that God will always shield Abraham—and his descendants—from causing injustices. Abraham’s faithful descendants, in this view, can always be assumed to be righteous, whereas their enemies will be wicked. Thus, in Deuteronomy 33:29, God can be described as Israel’s “protecting Shield”—such that “your enemies shall come cringing before you, and you shall tread on their backs.” Meditating on the description of God as a shield, then, may produce a triumphal assertion of one’s own justice rather than a critical investigation into one’s justice. The policymaker who takes an accounting of his or her sense of justice should proceed carefully when reasoning in light of scripture, wary of the temptations that Biblical texts may offer, cautious not to proceed ahead “like a bird rushing into a trap” (Proverbs 7:23).
 The complete article is here (or here on the JSR website).

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Introducing Jewish Studies Through Jewish Thought and Practice

Geoffrey Claussen, “Introducing Jewish Studies through Jewish Thought and Practice,” Shofar, vol. 32, no. 4 (2014), 60-75.
In this pedagogy article, I discuss the course titled "Jewish Traditions" (REL 205) at Elon University. The article begins by describing the first day of class in the course, which features an experiential learning exercise in which students eat honey cake while they read a fourteenth-century account of Jewish boys consuming honey (and other sweet delicacies) while studying Torah for the first time. I outline the course’s learning outcomes, which include students developing awareness of the complexity and diversity of Jewish cultures, learning diverse ways in which Jews have related to non-Jewish communities, and (as the course is a part of Elon’s Women’s/Gender Studies program) recognizing the importance of gender for understanding the Jewish tradition and people. The course focuses on major aspects of Jewish thought and practice, giving particular attention to influential classical Jewish texts and modern responses to those texts. An abridged syllabus is provided.  The full text of the article is here.

Monday, April 9, 2012

The Practice of Musar

Geoffrey Claussen, “The Practice of Musar,” Conservative Judaism 63, no. 2 (2012), 3-26.
Full text here. In this article, I make some suggestions about how the legacy of the nineteenth-century Musar movement might best guide contemporary Jewish practice.  I consider, in particular, the Musar movement's vision of how a broad range of practices can spur moral development, and how this model might apply to contemporary Conservative Judaism. Here's an excerpt from the introduction to the article:

The Musar movement’s chief innovation was that it demanded not only the inner qualities and external behavior commonly understood to be required by the Torah, but also other practices that can help to cultivate moral behavior and virtue. Rabbi Israel Salanter, the movement’s founder, recognized that changing our ingrained habits to make us better people is extremely difficult, and his response to this recognition was not only on the level of theory but also on the level of behavior. Salanter suggested that Musar was not only a literature to be learned, but a practical path to be followed. Engaging in Musar, he suggested, is a matter of engaging in “extensive stratagems” that can “make a strong impression on the heart and give strength and power to one’s external limbs.” Engaging in Musar means using tactics that can bring discipline (“musar”) to our hearts, transforming our characters and so transforming our behavior. Engaging in Musar is engaging in practices that can help us to become better people.

What sorts of tactics can change our hearts in this manner? What are the practices of Musar? Salanter and his disciples suggested that there are a great many forms of behavior that can help us to become better people. Some of these practices of Musar are practices that are widely seen as obligatory for all Jews—studying Torah, engaging in the specific ritual and ethical behaviors that Jewish law demands, and acting with kindness toward other people. Formal halakhic obligations such as these are a key part of Musar practice but, Salanter argued, changing one’s nature for the better requires additional “stratagems” that are not found in standard codes of Jewish law.

Salanter suggested that each individual must find whatever practices can help him or her to overcome the particular character traits with which he or she struggles. He and his disciples also pointed to certain specific practices that they saw as generally effective, which included: repeating words of Torah with a melody and so seeking to bring them into one’s heart; visualizing both the way that things are and the way that things could be; looking at oneself and putting one’s moral struggles down in writing; engaging in serious conversation with others about how to live one’s life; as well as engaging in deeds of lovingkindness and so instilling habits of love within one’s heart.

When I say that Conservative movement practice should be guided by such a model of Musar practice, I do not mean that we must engage in the precise practices endorsed by Israel Salanter and his students. I mean that the Musar movement teaches us to think broadly about the behaviors that God might require of us. We should adopt the model of practice that the Musar movement provides: we should see ourselves as obligated not only to engage in practices that can be codified, but in whatever “Musar” practices can help us to emulate God’s goodness—to become better, wiser, more loving people. It is a halakhic obligation for all people to walk in God’s ways (“v’halakhta”) as best we can, and we can learn from the Musar movement that each of us has a derivative halakhic obligation to engage in the practices that help us in achieving that goal....

The complete article explores practices of text study, music, visualization, introspection and journaling, conversation, prayer, interpersonal commandments, commandments pertaining to the human-divine relationship, as well as the countless other sorts of behavior that can help human beings to "walk in God's ways."

Click here for the full text, © Rabbinical Assembly 2012, shared online with permission of the Rabbinical Assembly.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Jewish Virtue Ethics and Compassion for Animals: A Model from the Musar Movement

Geoffrey Claussen, “Jewish Virtue Ethics and Compassion for Animals: A Model from the Musar Movement.” CrossCurrents 61, no. 2 (2011), 208-216.
The article is available here via Wiley Online Library.  It focuses on images of animals and animality in the writings of Rabbi Simhah Zissel Ziv.  Among the texts that I discuss are the following:
1. Ḥokhmah u-Musar 1:31
The [fundamental] quality of God is that [God] loves all creatures; were it not so, they could not exist in the world.  And we find that loving God’s creatures is closeness to the Blessed One…. Our sages, in their holy way, have taught us (Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 14a): how can a person draw close to the Blessed One?  By cleaving to [God’s] attributes. And there is no attribute of the Blessed Lord that is more clear than love for [God’s] creatures.  “You open up your hand and satisfy the desire of all that lives” (Psalms 145:16)—we see that every single creature receives pleasure and satisfaction for its desire, and this is simply God’s love for [God’s] creatures.  And consequently we find that the prohibition on causing suffering to animals comes from the Torah.

2. Ḥokhmah u-Musar 1:8
Our forefathers—our father Jacob, peace be upon him, and David, and also our teacher Moses the shepherd, peace be upon him—concerned themselves with livestock as shepherds for this reason: they wanted to habituate themselves even to share the burdens of animals—all the more so to share the burdens of people of their generation.  
And this is what we have in the Midrash (Exodus Rabbah 2:2), explaining that “Moses was a shepherd” (Exodus 3:1):
The sages said: “God tests that righteous person with small matters.  [He tested] David with sheep and found him to be a good shepherd, as he [first] brought forth the smaller sheep to graze so that they would be able to graze on the tender grass, and afterwards he brought out the older sheep so that they would graze on the regular grass, and finally he brought out the [strong] young sheep who would eat the tougher grass.  The Holy Blessed One said: “one who knows how to shepherd a flock, treating each sheep according to its strength, should come and shepherd my people.”…

And even Moses—God only tested him by means of the flock.  Our sages have said that when Moses our teacher, peace be upon him, was shepherding the flock of Jethro, a lamb escaped.  He ran after it until the lamb reached a pool of water where it stopped to drink.  When Moses arrived there, he said: “I had not known that you had run away because of thirst.  You must be tired.”  He placed it on his shoulder and walked back.  God said: “You have shown mercy in guiding your flock in this way.  By your life—you should shepherd my flock, Israel.”

My brothers, gentlemen: contemplate the wonders contained in this midrash, to learn such lofty teachings from one midrashic text.  See the simple things that people scorn, and how they are considered foolish in people’s eyes.  But after they focused on this, training themselves in the character trait of “sharing the burden,” these two great figures merited the kingship.

3. Ḥokhmah u-Musar 1:14
We can understand [the quality of “sharing the burden”] when we see a wagon driver steering a full wagon, when his horse does not want to go forward, and he beats it and beats it.  If the wagon driver were himself to try to pull the burden with all his might, like a horse, then he would not be so cruel to the horse.  But because he is not pulling along with the horse, he does not have a mental image which demands compassion for the horse, which is continually pulling with all its might.  And this is what [our sages] hinted at: if you want to feel the pain of your fellow, stand next to him and pull his burden along with him, and then you will feel your fellow’s pain.
UPDATE: Full text of the article available here.

Monday, January 24, 2011

God and Suffering in Heschel’s Torah Min Ha-Shamayim

Geoffrey Claussen, “God and Suffering in Heschel’s Torah Min Ha-Shamayim.” Conservative Judaism 61, no. 4 (2010), 17-42.
Drawing on Abraham Joshua Heschel's Torah Min Ha-Shamayim (translated into English as Heavenly Torah), this article considers four classical perspectives on God's relationship to seemingly-unjustified human suffering:

(the school of
Rabbi Akiva)
Transcendentalists (the school of
Rabbi Yishmael)

(God is responsible for suffering)
God causes suffering to benefit human beings and to show intimate involvement with themGod causes suffering in accordance with the often-inscrutable laws of justice


(God is not responsible for suffering)

God deeply identifies with those who suffer but cannot prevent their suffering

God has compassion for those who suffer but cannot prevent their suffering

   Out of these four views, Heschel paid the least attention to the view that suffering reveals a transcendent God whose hand does not intervene in history. This lack of attention is not so surprising, given that, when it came to challenging the doctrine of divine omnipotence, Heschel was personally committed to the non-interventionist model associated with the immanentism of Rabbi Akiva.
   But the non-interventionist views that can be linked with Rabbi Yishmael's transcendentalism are also worthy of significant attention....
From the conclusion:
Heschel should be admired for recovering, in Torah Min Ha-Shamayim, the often-neglected non-interventionist theology of Rabbi Akiva's school. But, out of his attachment to Rabbi Akiva's vision of God's identification with suffering human beings, he neglected the non-interventionist theology of Rabbi Yishmael's school. As a result, readers of the chapters focusing on suffering in Torah Min Ha-Shamayim may be left with the impression that, for the Rabbis, God's compassion must be expressed through God's identification with human beings; and readers may be left with the impression that divine transcendence must be associated with interventions in history which transcend human understanding. To correct such misimpressions, I have sought to highlight the alternative model of divine transcendence which Heschel hints at in Torah Min Ha-Shamayim but ignores in those key chapters: a model which sees God as compassionate without blurring the lines between the human and the divine; a model which recognizes God as transcendent not because of God's inscrutability and God's direct power but because of God's transcendent goodness—which does not control but which commands from beyond.
The article is available on Project Muse here (and as a PDF here).

UPDATE: The full text is available here, © Rabbinical Assembly 2010, shared online with permission of the Rabbinical Assembly.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Sharing the Burden: Rabbi Simḥah Zissel Ziv on Love and Empathy

Geoffrey Claussen, “Sharing the Burden: Rabbi Simḥah Zissel Ziv on Love and Empathy.” Journal of the Society of Christian Ethics 30, no. 2 (2010), 151-169.

ABSTRACT: Rabbi Simhah Zissel Ziv of Kelme, Lithuania was one of the early leaders of the Musar Movement, a pietistic religious movement in 19th century Europe that attempted to place concerns with moral character at the center of Jewish life. This article introduces Simhah Zissel’s virtue-centered approach to the Torah’s central commandment that one “love one’s fellow as oneself.” For Simhah Zissel, love is a disposition of the soul, with emotional and intellectual aspects, culminating in action; love demands a sense of partnership with others and a sense of care which should extend to all of God’s creatures. Love demands a sense of partnership with others and a sense of care that should extend to all of God's creatures; love requires that we not privilege ourselves over other people; and the highest level of love is “sharing the burden of one’s fellow,” compassionate love characterized by empathy and responsiveness, which can only be cultivated through great effort.

UPDATE: Full text available here.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

The American Jewish Revival of Musar

Geoffrey Claussen, “The American Jewish Revival of Musar.” The Hedgehog Review 12, no. 2 (2010), 63-72.
Awoman writes in her journal every night, focusing on her struggles with anger. Two friends sit down over coffee and discuss their recent efforts to perform at least three acts of generosity every day. A man posts on an online forum about how easily he is distracted by needless concerns but how daily Jewish prayer has helped him to focus his mind. A group studies Jewish teachings on greed, and they commit themselves to taking concrete steps to limit their consumption. Another group pores over a medieval Hebrew text about pride, and they conclude their weekly study session by chanting some of its words out loud to a haunting Jewish melody.
These American Jews display a good deal of moral seriousness, a tendency towards introspection, and a concern with the virtues to a degree that is somewhat uncommon in mainstream American Jewish culture. In describing their behavior, they might refer to the Jewish tradition of “Musar” (“moral discipline”) and explain that they are carrying on the legacy of a nineteenth-century, Lithuania-based movement known as the “Musar movement.” Most American Jews have not heard of the Musar movement, and many, upon learning about it, would write it off as requiring too much self-criticism, too much moralizing, and too much work. And yet interest in Musar has been steadily growing in contemporary America, in part as a counter-cultural phenomenon....
Full article here.  PDF here.

UPDATE: The Wilson Quarterly discusses the article here (available with paid access only).