The discussion has begun, and the content is applaudable. But now it's time to take the conversation one step further. We explored our understandings of people's ability to re-interpret old obligations, what it means to "observe," and what the limits of possible interpretation are, if they exist at all.
The conversation went down a familiar path - don't choose between observance and enjoyment, allow your understandings of obligatory action to include both! There are a thousand faces of Torah, remember.
But there's another side to the conversation, a problem endemic to the very nature of religious interpretation. It enters the parlance when we bring into consideration the concept of "obligation." Then, what happens when personal taste and understood interpretations of prescribed actions clash?
My point is unclear, so I will use specific examples to elucidate.
In our prior case, we discussed "keeping" and "remembering" Shabbat, as well as, for added fun, "enjoying" it too. The argument was made that Jews have the right to reinterpret in their own time how one keeps Shabbat; that we need not, or even cannot, lay beholden to specific rabbinic interpretations to determine our modern practice.
Thank God for that.
But some assumptions were made in the conversation, which will begin to reveal a problem in the ideology. Most commentators took for granted one's obligation to both remember (zachor) and observe (shamor) Shabbat. That is to say, there was only one opinion which itself only tangentially suggested that either of these commandments may not, in fact, be obligatory.
Regardless, for our case, let us take for granted that Shabbat practice (including both remembering and observing) is a chiuv, literally a religious obligation - something incumbent upon each person.
For example, Ploni either believes literally in a commanding God who ordained that we must observe and remember Shabbat or, in some religious or communal fashion or another, respects the halakha of Shabbat practice enough to believe that Shabbat is not something that a Jew cannot choose to ignore.
Shabbat - Just Do it - Done.
So Ploni accepts the yoke of Shabbat. But now, per our last discussion, he must decipher his understanding of how he actually observes the day. This will be based on studying the halakha and relevant texts, speaking with and learning from others (his peers and his teachers), looking at various modes of Shabbat practice in different communities and finding his own personal comfort zone. Some combination of all these factors will lead Ploni to knowing what he believes is "proper" (if only for himself) Shabbat observance.
Great.
So let's assume that part of Ploni's process goes like this: While reading the Torah-commandment of Shabbat, he sees clearly that it is meant to be a day on which we cease all our business. Through his studying of relevant rabbinic texts, he sees this theme supported and understood over the generations as a complete abstinence from anything dealing with money. Ploni visits various synagogues and notes that most, if not all, close their gift shops on Shabbat. At his summer camp, the store is closed on Shabbat and mail is not delivered.
Thinking sociologically, Ploni decides that a day without business and money-handling is healthy for the Jewish community. He likes how it frames the other six-days of the week and what it forces Jews to focus on during the 25 hour Shabbat period.
All-in-all, Ploni believes that Shabbat is meant to be a day free of money-handling and engaging in business, that the rabbis were right in interpreting this, and that the Jewish people, himself included, are better-off continuing this tradition.
So Ploni's practice (halakhic or not) includes not spending money on Shabbat. But, every now and then, Ploni gets bored on a Shabbat afternoon, finds himself surfing the internet and wanting to make a harmless credit-card purchase. Or Ploni realizes Shabbat morning that he's out of toilet paper and cannot fathom waiting until nightfall to clean his tuchus. Or, one week, Ploni just decides that he flat-out wants to go shopping Saturday.
This does not affect his understanding of Shabbat observance. He still knows what he believes to be "right" and "good," but in these cases, Ploni's temporal and individual tastes and desires are at odds with his understanding of religious obligation.
What does he do?
Does he spend his time acting against what he feels is right in support of his current desires? Does he waste hours in a neurotic fit with the whole of Jewish history watching and judging his every action? Can obligation really change at the whim of the moment?
What's the right answer? What's a Jew to do?
That is the question. Submissions are being accepted. Time begins now.
Ploni should probably wipe himself. Even if it means he must purchase a roll of toilet paper. If he really really doesn't want to, and it's really necessary to maintain this part of his chosen observance then he can get a leaf.
My point is that Ploni will not be asked "Ploni, why did you buy that roll of toilet paper?" Instead of why he was not himself. It comes down to simple logic to me. We do what is necessary. We fight wars on Shabbat to survive, we wipe our bums on Shabbat to be clean.
If Ploni has decided to go shopping, then that would be contrary to Ploni's own belief that it is good for the Jewish people not to spend money on Shabbat. So which is it Ploni?
Speaking in absolutes is like saying nothing in a modern time. There is no right or wrong choice, only the choice with which Ploni will be most satisfied. If it really is his desire to go shopping and he feels that this impulse outweights his decision about what is good for the Jewish people then he should hit the mall, but that seems unlikely considering what is good for the Jewish people is good for him.
My point is basically to do whatever yields the greatest happiness, the most satisfaction (If you want to go shopping so bad it can't wait till Sunday, go.), or in some cases to do what is necessary (Don't refuse a ride to the hospital for your broken leg, that's stupid.).
For me, I am building my observance to the point where I will be able to break my own tradition only for the necessities, but it will always be a celebration for me. If the joy leaves Shabbat, the holiest time, what joy is left to be had? Be happy, especially on Shabbat, no matter what.
Posted by: Josh Levin | Monday, October 15, 2007 at 11:55 PM
Suppose you're living somewhere where everything is closed on Shabbat, so going shopping (other than Internet shopping) isn't an option. Should the answer be different?
Posted by: BZ | Tuesday, October 16, 2007 at 09:59 AM