When one considers the image of a young child learning about dinosaurs or majestic sea creatures for the first time, one is likely to take notice of the fact that the child soon becomes enthralled by the image and complexity of the creature. To that end, we have seen studies that reveal the large extent to which children’s attention and awe are captured not by toys, but by animals and creatures like those aforementioned. [1] Much like the child whose attention is captured by the magnificence and aesthetic beauty of “majestic” members of the animal kingdom, it is striking to find that among adults, there is evidence pointing to a science of awe and reverence, particularly of nature. [2] Awe of nature is an incredible and unique sight to the human eye, one which holds much prosocial and psychological benefit. And yet, we find that through the lens of this week’s Parashah, it may indeed hold a key function in the continuation and conservation of the Jewish-religious identity, ubiquitous insofar as the human eye has been trained by the mind to take notice of said function.
Our first charge with the task of Jewish continuity is presented following the repetition of events that took place at Har Sinai, and the subsequent re-engraving of the Luchot presented to Moshe Rabbeinu. “ViAtah Yisrael Mah Hashem Elokecha Sho’el Mei’Imach Ki Im LeYir’ah Et Hashem Elokecha Lalechet BiChol Derachav U’LiAhavah Oto ViLa’avod Et Hashem Elokecha BiChol Levavecha U’BiChol Nafshecha,” “And now, Israel, what does Hashem your God ask of you? Only to be in awe of Him, to walk only in His paths, to love Him, and to serve Hashem your God with all your heart and soul” (Devarim 10:12). The Gemara takes note of the seemingly deprecating tone resultant from the word “Ki,” “only,” as a means of calling attention to the spiritual and cognitive greatness of Moshe Rabbeinu and the Dor HaYetziah, the exodus generation (ie. his generation). For Moshe and his kin, the accomplishment of these requests made by Hashem was not impossible to accomplish, for they were witness to a sea split before them, the air filled with locusts, and one of the most powerful global empires of the ancient world brought to its knees with the advent of the various other plagues brought down upon them. Yet the Bnei Yisrael knew there was a higher power at play, reasoning that the same God who shielded their ancestors from harm in generations past was indeed the very same who had freed them from bondage As Rabbi Dr. Moshe David Tendler draws out (Mitokh Ha-Ohel, Essays on the Weekly Parashah from the Rabbis and Professors of Yeshiva University, pp. 429-231), these incidents were “empirical proof of His existence and of His control of the natural forces that are the Divine laws of nature.” The slow, tiered nature of the Makkot served as a demonstration of the later Pasuk: “Asher Samti Bam ViDa’tem Ki Ani Hashem,” “So that you will know that I am God” (Shemot 10:2). The generation of Moshe Rabbeinu and the exodus was privy to a marvelous sight beholden, one that served as the bedrock of the foundation of Yahadut which soon culminated in Ma’amad Har Sinai. Yet, Rav Tendler calls attention to the later warning of Moshe Rabbeinu, which, interestingly enough, succeeds our original set of commandments by only a few Perakim: “ViDa’tem HaYom Ki Lo Et Bineichem Asher Lo Yad’u Va’Asher Lo Ra’u Et Mussar Hashem Elokeichem Et Gadlo Et Yado HaChazakah U’Zero’o HaNetuyah,” “Take thought this day that it was not your children, who neither experienced nor witnessed the lesson of Hashem your God— His majesty, His mighty hand, His outstretched arm” (Devarim 11:2). The issue for later generations now comes to the fore, begging the question of how it is that we may instill and conserve our Jewish heritage, identity, and beliefs in our succeeding generations in spite of the marvels so blatantly revealed to our ancestors? Perhaps the most difficult, yet critical aspect of our original charge to address is that of the love of God, in light of the development of humanism and human history itself.
Academic and Christian philosophers like Nietzsche and Thomas Aquinas, respectively, debated over the acceptance and existence of “good” and “evil”. This debate, grounded in the humanistic realm, is then used as the prevailing objection to the love of God; Human suffering and biological error are and stand to always be, one of the strongest arguments against the proposed “goodness” of God, hence preventing one from truly crossing the threshold to a perceptive love of Hashem in any sense of the word. One may try to defend our Pasuk by contending that the requests made by Hashem are directed only at the strongest of heart and mind, thus making this commandment esoteric and almost impossible to accomplish. The Netziv (Chumash Ha’Amek Davar, Devarim 10:12, s.v. Ki Im LeYir’ah), however, makes note of this Pasuk serving as a commandment to all, thus redirecting us to the original complication of humanistic obstacles to attaining an authentic love of God. Perhaps the approach to such love is attainable through the first-step approach of fear of Heaven.
Rabbi Bachya ibn Paquda (Chovot HaLevavot, Sha’ar Asirei, Sha’ar Ahavat Hashem, Hakdamah) surveys the fact that in many areas of the Torah, including our very Pasuk (Devarim 10:12), the fear of God is placed before the love of Him. Fear of Heaven, in hindsight, can be seen as the lowest level of love of God, for the fear of sin and the fear of displeasing or corrupting oneself and Hashem’s Torah reflect a sense of love for these principles. This is paradoxical conceptually. As in the humanistic worldview, humans have the ultimate ability to control their lives and their environment, answering to no one save themselves and the laws of nature. But is the fear of Heaven truly a submission of free will to the divine as a means of attaining closeness, or is it just illusory due to the limits of the human mind? Indeed, Rabi Chanina (Megillah 25a; also found in Berachot 33b) famously declared: “HaKol B’Idei Shamayim Chutz MiYir’at Shamayim,” “everything is in the hands of Heaven, except for the fear of Heaven” based on our very Pasuk. Hence, we may reason that if the fear of Heaven, which potentially a lower form of the love of Hashem, said love is indeed in our very hands as well; this, in turn, means that we are the arbiters of that love who are tasked with mining it and preserving/conserving it for future generations. But we again hit a brick wall, particularly in consideration of what truly makes us fear and subsequently love God in this day and age, particularly as our study of history has seemingly revealed countless incidents of strife and suffering?
Rabbi Tendler (Mitokh Ha-Ohel, ibid.) later draws attention to the words of Maimonides (Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah 2:2), who asks what is perhaps the greatest philosophical question pondered in the academies of ancient and modern history. This question, though complex to many, is the only question worth asking in the pursuit of attaining an authentic love of God: “When one observes the wonders and wisdom of nature - all being the works of His hands...one strives to know Hashem. This striving leads to the emotion of loving Hashem.” It is with this position of Rambam that we again re-examine the role which awe plays in our lives. When one considers the nature of the universe’s existence, one marvels at the precision and fine-tuning with which it emerged to produce the conditions sustainable for the existence of carbon-based lifeforms, [3] and even continues to expand, revealing a continually marvelous creation which we so often acknowledge in our Shabbat Kiddush and Zemirot. [4] If we focused our attention slightly deeper to recognize the nature of conditions for planetary life-forms, we would be astounded to realize that of the thousands (at minimum) of planets that carry the ability to sustain carbon-based life to a certain degree, and the small number that can theoretically support human life, [5] only one is home to living organisms (as of now at least [6]) with the cognitive capacity to search for such planets.
The incredible systematic complexity of the universe on a wider scale is perhaps enough to serve as a catalyst for the growing awe with which Ahavat Hashem is later found, yet it is not only the universe that testifies to and sparks such feelings of trepidation. In conversation with my grandfather, Dr. Arnold Silverberg, Z”L, I happened upon the question as to what led him to a career in medicine. He posed the following question to me: “Do you know how many nephrons comprise a single kidney?” Admitting my lack of knowledge of the answer, he explained that “of the hundreds of thousands [indeed perhaps even millions] of individual nephrons that comprise the whole of the kidney, the organ would fail if even a small number were damaged,” effectively stopping the filtration of toxic substances within the blood. [7] This revelation, explained my grandfather, was one of his earliest primers for pursuing medicine, as a means of not only being able to partake in the sacred Mitzvah of Pikuach Nefesh but to grow closer to Hashem through the revelation of His most complex creation: the human body. Indeed the human body is a marvelous “machine” in that it has adapted not only the ability to self-heal in many cases on a molecular and visual level, but also provides protection to the inhabitant of the body (ie. the relative strength of the bones of the body and the skin, or the immune system) in a manner which only further promotes the protection of the body as humans evolve and progress through history. The specificity of said adaptations only further enliven the individual in recognizing the brilliance and beauty that is us, essentially. [8]
Of course, the staunch (at this point - secular) humanist, in trying to preserve the dignity of man without a divine hand in it all, would point to the evolutionary “mistakes” made or even the various ailments and diseases which so frequently present themselves. Yet, the unique beauty of the human body is not only its abilities mentioned above but its cognitive capacity to provide for its own sustenance and health. [9] Indeed, we find a set of Torah mandates which even remind us of these very capacities; namely the Pesukim of “VeRapo YeRapei,” “and he shall provide the cure” (Shemot 21:19), “U’Shemartem Et Chukotai ViEt Mishpatai Asher Ya’aseh Otam Ha’Adam VaChai Bahem,” “You shall keep My laws and My rules, by the pursuit of which man shall live” (VaYikra 18:4), and “Lo BaShamayim Hi,” “It is not in Heaven” (Devarim 30:12). These Pesukim serve as the ultimate reminder of the fact that as human beings, we are granted the enormous ability to impart and actualize ethical ideals, and contribute to the advancement of creation, however novel we may perceive it to truly be.
And so we return to our original question of how it is that we may come to display fear and subsequent love of Hashem? It is indeed the case that much like the young child spoken of, who stands in awe of the marvelous beasts he encounters in books or at zoos, aquariums, or museums, that we too may reach a basic level of understanding in how to fear and love God, if only we properly cognize and realize the inherent beauty and implications of the nature of the universe around us, from a simple drop of blood extracted from our veins to the enormity of the visible universe. When one stands in such awe, one will in turn eventually arrive at a sense of gratitude for being a part of this wondrous picture. As the philosopher, Ludwig Wittgenstein so famously quipped: “Nicht wie die welt ist, ist das Mystische, sondern dass sie ist,” “It is not how the world is that is mystical, but that it is” (Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus 6.44). Yet gratitude and love of God are not simple tasks, [10] and thus Rabbi Tendler concludes his own assessment of our question reiterating the question of how we are to conserve and retain our Jewish-religious knowledge with later generations. Hence we are instructed to “Make them aware from earliest youth of the omnipresence of our God. When experiencing the clap of thunder, recite a blessing to Hashem [“SheKocho U’Gevurato Malei Olam,”] “Whose power fills the world.” When seeing the ocean waves, recite a blessing to the One, [“SheAsah Et HaYam HaGadol”] “Who called the oceans into existence.”” The instillment of awe is not an easy task, nor is the fulfillment of awe through the study of the natural realm alone the ultimate pathway, but they do serve as individual paths which form a confluence of stronger knowledge and faith over time, a heritage which has served and will continue to serve “Hashem Elokeichem” who is “Emet,” “Hashem our God” who is “true” through the study of His marvelous truths.
[1] LoBue, V., Bloom Pickard, M., Sherman, K., Axford, C. and DeLoache, J.S. (2013), Young children's interest in live animals. British Journal of Developmental Psychology, 31: 57-69. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.2044-835X.2012.02078.x
[2] https://ggsc.berkeley.edu/images/uploads/GGSC-JTF_White_Paper-Awe_FINAL.pdf
[3] https://astronomy.com/news/2018/11/are-the-laws-of-the-universe-fine-tuned-for-life
[4] https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-019-02198-z. Indeed, the concept of continual creation is even stated explicitly in the words “BiChol Yom Tamid,” “Daily, continually, renews the work of creation,” recited in the Shabbat morning Berachot leading up to Keriyat Shema. For a discussion of the continuous nature of creation, see my article on Parashat VaYakheil: https://www.koltorah.org/articles/a-prohibition-like-no-other-shevitat-shabbat-of-the-rav-and-rav-kook-by-tzvi-meister-21?rq=vayakheil
[5] https://www.popsci.com/earth-like-planets-universe/
[6] This is not an admission to believing in extraterrestrial life, rather a scientific agnosticism in light of the current evidence.
[7] Murawski IJ, Maina RW, Gupta IR. The relationship between nephron number, kidney size and body weight in two inbred mouse strains. Organogenesis. 2010 Jul-Sep;6(3):189-94. doi: 10.4161/org.6.3.12125. PMID: 21197222; PMCID: PMC2946052.
[8] https://www.livescience.com/48103-evolution-not-random.html
[9] https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/what-makes-our-brains-special/
[10] https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/why_is_gratitude_so_hard_for_some_people