The Rational in Faith: Is Judaism Suitable for Freedom Lovers?

Sigal, my secular colleague from a few years back, was the last person I expected to receive sacred books from as a gift. And yet, it was her, with her blue-dyed hair and non-Jewish partner, who one day offered me a volume of 'Tanya' and another of 'Orot HaTeshuva'. "We're moving, and I have no use for them," she explained. "I used to read those books, but I’ve stopped."

When I tried to find out why her interest in the books faded, she shrugged. "There was a time I was interested in Judaism, I read, attended lectures... but it's not for me. I liked many of the ideas I heard, but I can’t get along with the notion that Judaism binds you so tightly. Everything dictates how to do things. You can't do this, can't do that, and my boyfriend is out of the question just because he's Dutch. Doesn't suit me. I'm a freedom-loving person, you know."

The books are still with me. And Sigal? I haven't seen her in several years, but I understand she still loves freedom and steadily distances herself from Jewish tradition.

Free to Find New Bondage

During the establishment of the state, the term commonly used to denote non-religious people was 'free'. The pioneers who immigrated to the land were the first to flaunt this title: they left the bonds of religion far behind in the diaspora and stepped into freedom! Although the term has long vanished from the lexicon, the meaning remains part of the belief system of many non-religious public figures. Almost every description of the Haredi society today includes the term 'ghetto' (even through 'leaving the ghetto walls'). Almost every secular individual making close contact with a Haredi will sooner or later want to know whether this or that commandment isn't too binding, too limiting. And almost every devout person who wants to highlight to the surrounding secular society how enlightened and progressive he is will make sure to say he’s religious, but not an 'overly pious'.

This obsession with 'freedom', of course, is typical of our era. Three hundred years ago, a Torah-observant Jew could have been the target of much criticism, but it’s unlikely anyone would be concerned about his 'lack of freedom'. Anyone born in the Western world believes they are born free. Yet, this belief is quite young, and before the independence of the United States (which itself applied this understanding only partially for many decades), no official entity claimed to declare all humans were born free.

(Photo: shutterstock)

In his famous book 'Escape from Freedom', psychologist Erich Fromm describes the process humanity underwent in its quest for liberty. From the bondage of the Middle Ages, the feudal period, the rule of nobles and trade guilds, Western man broke his shackles and openly declared his freedom. Barriers, limitations, and prejudices faded away, and by the 20th century, man was freer than ever before—and perplexed on how to handle this freedom.

"For modern man, freedom has a dual meaning," writes Fromm, "he has been liberated from traditional authorities and turned into an 'individual', but at the same time, he has become isolated, helpless, and an instrument for external ends, alienated from himself and others. Additionally, he discovered that this situation undermines his own sense of self, weakens and frightens him, making him ready to surrender to new kinds of bondage."

Who is Truly Free?

According to Fromm, the reason lies in the fact that the perception of freedom was focused on 'negative liberty'. People defined freedom as 'freedom from...' Freedom from religious bindings, freedom from restrictions imposed by rulers, freedom from societal conventions, freedom from authority constraints... In other words, liberty was described only in negation. And when people achieved that liberty—they found themselves lost, leading to some of the great tragedies of the 20th century, including the rise of Nazism. Although an extreme example, Fromm says, anyone who subconsciously defines their freedom negatively, as 'freedom from...', is effectively: 'ready for surrender to new forms of bondage.'

(Photo: shutterstock)

The primary nature of humans, unrefined, is to be enslaved. As children, we quickly learn to look at those around us and imitate them, vehemently protesting any attempt to dress us in a sweater 'nobody wears', or prevent us from doing something 'everyone does'. During adolescence, we might be supposed to discover our individuality, yet miraculously, we find it mainly where our friends prefer. When a group of high school students passes by, you are mainly impressed by the external uniformity of their appearance. If you listen to their conversation, their vocabulary and intonation are no less similar. And if you borrow some of their music players, the musical taste of that random sample of youth will prove quite alike.

The New Bondage: Imitating Reality Stars

Does it improve as we grow older? Not necessarily. Even if we break away from the desperate need to be like everyone else, it’s very difficult to live in this world without being enslaved to something. It can be parents’ expectations, the need to prove ourselves, a coveting for money, a pursuit of honor—there’s no doubt the universe is full and brimming with potential jailers. If we live in the Western world, we enjoy the 'negative freedom' described by Fromm: increasingly, the authorities won't prevent us from any act that doesn't actively harm others. But this negative freedom, which does not bother defining what we are free to do, makes us 'ready for new forms of bondage'. In generations enslaved to the whims of the local ruler, no realistic opportunity for forms of bondage like 'competing with neighbors' or 'imitating reality stars' existed. But today, we have complete freedom to indulge in such bondage.

In the face of the pseudo-freedom – bound, yet experienced today – it's worth examining the Jewish perception of true freedom. This perception can be summarized in the words of the sages in the Beraita of Ethics of the Fathers: " ‘And the tablets were the work of God, and the writing was the writing of God, engraved on the tablets,’ do not read 'engraved' but 'freed', for no one is free but he who engages in the study of Torah."

This teaching of the sages seems completely counterintuitive to common thinking. People who approach Judaism, or even long-established religious practitioners, often struggle with the perception that Torah and the mitzvot are restrictive: the days of Passover are a perfect example, when every year there are those who cannot bear the seven-day separation from chametz products and grumble about the ban on selling pita and rolls in the public domain. These are the people for whom religion is stifling because it demands they part with some of the food they are accustomed to for seven days. These are the people who cannot understand how observing Shabbat by the law is anything but sheer torment: No driving? No beach? No technology? Suffocation! These are the people who, like my former colleague Sigal, can love theoretical Jewish ideas but shrug when talking about the practice: religion binds, telling me with whom I can live and with whom not!

But the freedom of which the sages speak is the freedom of the soul. That freedom that not only allows us to be free from something but also free to do something. Free to soar above the physical, above desires, above the bondage to public opinion and society. True freedom is the ability to listen to the voice of the soul, to connect to the spirituality present within every human being, for we are all created in the image of God. ‘Freedom’ in its conventional modern definition is precisely the opposite of true liberty. "Freedom of thought, in its common form, is more bondage of thought than liberation," wrote Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaCohen Kook, of blessed memory. "For by chasing after common freedom, a person distances himself from the multitude of truths that emanate from the great treasures of supreme freedom of thought that we inherited."

(Photo: shutterstock)

This supreme freedom, the freedom 'that fell to us as a heritage', is the freedom that the people of Israel have excelled in throughout the generations. There's no precedent for a people that endured so much wandering, persecution, so much discrimination, and yet managed to produce such great spiritual treasures. The Talmud is studied today by every Jew with the commentary of Rashi and the Tosafists, but how many of us know much about the historical period in which these monumental works were written? Those were the years of the Crusades, years of expulsions, years of Talmud burnings. Years of intense hatred that erupted in repeated pogroms. Rabbeinu Tam, one of the great Tosafists, was almost murdered by the Crusaders and was miraculously released from their custody heavily wounded. The Maharam of Rothenburg, also one of the Tosafists, died in prison where he was cast by a money-hungry ruler who hoped to extort a hefty ransom from the Jewish community—but the Maharam prohibited the community from redeeming him at an exorbitant sum. Only 14 years after his death was his body redeemed and brought to burial.

Jewish history is replete with such examples. How can the contradiction be explained, then? How can the flourishing of Torah study, the extensive Jewish literature, the thriving study of Torah under such conditions be understood? Only true freedom, the freedom of the soul, can explain it. There's no doubt that the Maharam of Rothenburg was freer in his prison than his greedy jailer ever was. There's no doubt that generations of Jews living cramped in ghettos and subject to various edicts and taxes were freer than their non-Jewish neighbors who resented them without respite.

"A person is where his thoughts are," taught the Baal Shem Tov. And whoever's thoughts are always in a spiritual world, in the Torah, in connection with Hashem, will always be free from the material bonds that this world is so full of.

And it is this very freedom, true freedom, that Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi wrote about in his famous song:

Slaves of time - slaves to slaves are,

A servant of Hashem is he alone free.

Therefore, in seeking each man's portion,

The portion of Hashem is what my soul has declared.