In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Mitzvah of the BrisThomas McDonaldHaving worked as a clinician in emergency medicine, internal medicine, and urgent care for a number of years, I've treated plenty of patients with skin infections. On a few rare occasions, some have casually mentioned that they were thinking about getting circumcised as adults to prevent reoccurring, frequent infections like Jock Itch. I think you're probably more likely to experience that kind of problem (...) if you're uncircumcised. Jock itch is a fungal infection, and fungus likes dark, hot, sweaty places on our bodies. These infections are nothing serious—they are just sort of annoying for the patients experiencing them.I have two sons—both were circumcised, but my experience as a clinician did not play a role in the decision. My sons' mother is Jewish, while I grew up Catholic. I attended a Catholic high school and went to religious education classes until I was confirmed [End Page 77] as a teenager. Both of my parents are pretty serious Catholics. I can't remember ever missing a Sunday service. I always thought any sons I had would be circumcised, even before I was married and before I married someone who was Jewish.When we were expecting our first baby, my son's mother and I didn't really talk about circumcision or debate whether we should do it or not. Is it more socially acceptable to be circumcised versus not? I'm not exactly sure why, but I think the answer is probably yes. It seems like circumcision is the norm in our society. My son's mother wanted our son to be circumcised too but thought it would be great to have a bris. With my Catholic background, I didn't know the details about what was involved with a bris at the time. She explained that a person comes to the house (or to a relative's house) and circumcises the baby. All the relatives attend. It would be a party! At the time, the thought of throwing a party at a relative's home to celebrate a circumcision was amusing to me. Before the conversation with my son's mother, I assumed that the bris was probably done in the hospital with everyone attending there. But she went on to explain that a person who is trained to do it—a mohel—does this work as their main job and makes sure that the baby is anesthetized and that sterile techniques are used.To be clear, I didn't ever think that my sons wouldn't be circumcised. I just thought it would happen in the hospital rather than in Baba's living room, followed immediately by a meal of deli meat sandwiches. But the bris sounded like it would make a nice memory for the family, so I agreed to it. I was always (and still am) interested in Jewish traditions. I think they're pretty cool, so I was all in. I assume there could have been some pressure from my son's mother's family if the bris was something I didn't want to do, but that wasn't an issue since I was completely on board.There is an episode of Seinfeld called "The Bris" in which Elaine and Jerry are nervous about the duties they must perform for a bris when they agree to become godparents to a Jewish couple's newborn. Elaine is charged with booking the mohel and asks Jerry, "Where am I going to find a mohel!" Jerry responds, "Oh, finding a mohel is a piece of cake. Any idiot can find a mohel. I have the tough job—I have to hold the baby while they do it! How would you like that job?"I don't know how much planning goes into a bris. Unlike Elaine and Jerry, I did nothing. I just showed up that day. If someone asked me how to find a mohel, I wouldn't have an answer. It's possible my son's mother found and booked the mohel, or her family may have set it up. They have roots where we were living at the time, so they may have gotten... (shrink)

This first anthology of the most important writings by Danny Siegel, spanning and modernizing fifty years of his insights, Radiance intersperses soulful Jewish texts with innovative Mitzvah ideas to rouse individuals and communities to transform our lives, communities, and world.

References to Jews and to matters included in Jewish discourse are commonplace in US popular culture in general and in US-produced hip-hop lyrics in particular. This article deals with the latter, and aims to analyse how Jews are represented there. It is suggested here that 1. these representations are rendered comprehensible by analysing them in the light of the term coined by Zygmunt Bauman: allosemitism, which denotes that Jews are ‘other’. This article further suggests that 2. the representations of Jews (...) featured in the lyrics cannot be made comprehensible without looking into the historical relations between American Jews and African Americans. According to Jeffrey Melnick, this relation is characterised by ‘robust ambivalences’. This article arrives at the conclusion that the representations of Jews draw on classical conspiratorial and economic antisemitic ideas that situate Jews within the realms of shadowy (economic and instrumental) power, but which at times can be understood as philosemitic, as Jews are represented as wealthy and influential role models. Hence the usage of the term allosemitism to analyse the empirics. (shrink)

The recent war in Europe, the Ukraine–Russia war, has had a huge impact in the lives of millions of people in the European continent—in the lives of both those who have fled the conflict and of those who have welcomed them with open arms. In this paper, we conduct a philosophical investigation into the issue of hospitality to others, to strangers, to foreigners trying to understand this phenomenon taking place in Europe, and elsewhere. First, we investigate the Jewish Mitzvah (...) of Hospitality by referring to two passages in the Torah that exemplify hospitality and one that instantiates its opposite, hostility to the other, to strangers and foreigners. Following from this, we provide a discussion on Jewish ethics and its deontological and virtue ethics connections. In the last section, we engage with a discussion connecting the field of education and the matter of hospitality. (shrink)

Who can say "I am Jewish?" What does "Jew" mean? What especially does it mean for Jacques Derrida, founder of deconstruction, scoffer at boundaries and fixed identities, explorer of the indeterminate and undecidable? In _Portrait of Jacques Derrida as a Young Jewish Saint_, French feminist philosopher Hélène Cixous follows the intertwined threads of Jewishness and non-Jewishness that play through the life and works of one of the greatest living philosophers. Cixous is a lifelong friend of Derrida. They both grew up (...) as French Jews in Algeria and share a "belonging constituted of exclusion and nonbelonging"--not Algerian, rejected by France, their Jewishness concealed or acculturated. In Derrida's family "one never said 'circumcision'but 'baptism,'not 'Bar Mitzvah'but 'communion.'" Judaism cloaked in Catholicism is one example of the undecidability of identity that influenced the thinker whom Cixous calls a "Jewish Saint." An intellectual contemporary of Derrida, Cixous's ideas on writing have an affinity with his philosophy of deconstruction, which sought to overturn binary oppositions--such as man/woman, or Jew/non-Jew--and blur boundaries of exclusion inherent in Western thought. In portraying Derrida, Cixous uses metonymy, alliteration, rhyme, neologisms, and puns to keep the text in constant motion, freeing language from any rigidity of meaning. In this way she writes a portrait of "Derrida in flight," slipping from one appearance to the next, unable to be fixed in one spot, yet encompassing each point he passes. From the circumcision act to family relationships, through Derrida's works to those of Celan, Rousseau, and Beaumarchais, Cixous effortlessly merges biography and textual commentary in this playful portrait of the man, his works, and being (or not being) Jewish. (shrink)

Netiv ha-bar mitsṿah -- Mesilot ha-baḥurim -- Seder ha-yom.

On Marcuse's Jewish Identity Discussing the identity of his father, Herbert, and the family, Peter Marcuse says: "We were certainly Jewish; we would never have been in the US otherwise. My father was bar mitzvah'd, and to my knowledge his parents were relatively observant. But he himself was strictly secular. I remember at home hearing Jewish jokes, a smattering of Yiddish, Jewish friends, a Jewish intellectual circle—no doubt we were Jewish; but I remember no religious observance, no going to (...) schul or services, even on the High Holy Days.1" This testament indeed seems to reflect…. (shrink)

Who can say "I am Jewish?" What does "Jew" mean? What especially does it mean for Jacques Derrida, founder of deconstruction, scoffer at boundaries and fixed identities, explorer of the indeterminate and undecidable? In _Portrait of Jacques Derrida as a Young Jewish Saint_, French feminist philosopher Hélène Cixous follows the intertwined threads of Jewishness and non-Jewishness that play through the life and works of one of the greatest living philosophers. Cixous is a lifelong friend of Derrida. They both grew up (...) as French Jews in Algeria and share a "belonging constituted of exclusion and nonbelonging" -- not Algerian, rejected by France, their Jewishness concealed or acculturated. In Derrida's family "one never said 'circumcision'but 'baptism,'not 'Bar Mitzvah'but 'communion.'" Judaism cloaked in Catholicism is one example of the undecidability of identity that influenced the thinker whom Cixous calls a "Jewish Saint." An intellectual contemporary of Derrida, Cixous's ideas on writing have an affinity with his philosophy of deconstruction, which sought to overturn binary oppositions -- such as man/woman, or Jew/non-Jew -- and blur boundaries of exclusion inherent in Western thought. In portraying Derrida, Cixous uses metonymy, alliteration, rhyme, neologisms, and puns to keep the text in constant motion, freeing language from any rigidity of meaning. In this way she writes a portrait of "Derrida in flight," slipping from one appearance to the next, unable to be fixed in one spot, yet encompassing each point he passes. From the circumcision act to family relationships, through Derrida's works to those of Celan, Rousseau, and Beaumarchais, Cixous effortlessly merges biography and textual commentary in this playful portrait of the man, his works, and being Jewish. (shrink)

The life of Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk -- The Gate of Prayer -- The Tzetel katan -- The mitzvah of kiddush Hashem -- Hanhagos ha'adam -- Stories and teachings -- Be strong and don't give up -- Hebrew prayers.

Award-winning storyteller Barbara Diamond Goldin has collected and retold twenty-four stories about tzedakah in this inspiring volume. Some of these stories are based on oral tales, like "The Two Beggars," which is from Afghanistan, and "The Rabbi's Blessing," which is from Tunisia. Some stories, like "A Town of Baruchs" and "The Rabbi and the Rag Dealer" are Hasidic in origin, while others, like "Ox and Herbs" and "The Two Keys," are from much older sources. Some of the stories are based (...) on midrashic tales. The Hebrew word tzedakah is often translated as "charity," but it actually means "justice" or "righteousness." According to the Jewish Sages, tzedakah means we have an obligation to give to those in need, not only when we are feeling generous, but on a regular basis. Barbara Diamond Goldin has brought these stories of tzedakah together in the hope that they will inspire the young and the old, the rich and the poor, to give to those in need and to adopt a righteous sensibility and sensitivity akin to the commandment of performing acts of loving-kindness. By performing these mitzvoth, we all engage in tikkun olam, repair of the world, and, according to the Sages, each good deed we perform in the physical world creates an angel in the metaphysical world. This book should encourage readers to create their own angels and to recapture the significance of the mitzvah of tzedakah to the Jewish community, even to the world, today. (shrink)

This article examines the cultural ways in which traditional Judaism understands the relationship between an individual and Divinity. The article shows that this understanding has deep gendered dimensions. Grounded in feminist critiques of theology, as well as in Jewish studies and cultural studies, the article shows that the conceptualization of God-person relationship, in both Orthodox and Kaballic Jewish streams, is based on a hierarchical division to three different spaces. These spaces are: Mitzvah, Grace, and Desire or Will. The (...) class='Hi'>Mitzvah is perceived to be the highest space and is represented as 'manly'. The intermediate space-Grace-is represented as a 'good woman' or as 'mother'. This space is characterized by a sacred yearning, as well as by lack of stability and continuity, paralysis, and even death. The lowest space is the space of Desire and personal will, which is culturally represented by a child or a whore-woman. This space is characterized by an attitude of disregard, resistance and fear. The article demonstrates how this cultural division of Divinity in to three, contradicts the declared Jewish position that God/divinity is 'One, Sole and Unique', and points at the inherent need of genderless conceptualization of Divinity in Judaism. (shrink)

Way am I here? Do my actions make a differene? Can I change my future? These age old questions receive fresh answers in The divine commandments, a philosophical analysis of the concept ot a mitzvah. The study of the mystical dimension of G-d's commands and the potential in human action to influence the world gives new purpose to life and new joy to living.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Seductiveness of Virtue: Abraham Joshua Heschel and John Paul II on Morality and Personal Fulfillment by John J. FitzgeraldMatthew R. PetrusekThe Seductiveness of Virtue: Abraham Joshua Heschel and John Paul II on Morality and Personal Fulfillment John J. Fitzgerald new york: bloomsbury t&t clark, 2017. 240 pp. $114The Seductiveness of Virtue offers a close study of the twentieth-century Polish-American rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, and the first Polish (...) pope, St. John Paul II, on the relationship between being good and being happy. Overall the book advances the conversation on the meaning and continued relevance of virtue in contemporary ethics, though its eagerness to build bridges across competing religious and philosophical traditions opens the argument to both methodological and substantive criticisms. [End Page 206]Fitzgerald divides the book into an introduction and four chapters. Chapter 1, "The Meaning of Our Question," establishes the definitions of concepts that Fitzgerald addresses throughout the rest his argument, including "happiness," "meaning," "freedom," "personal fulfillment," "good and evil," and "doing." Fitzgerald locates each term within the theologies of Heschel and John Paul II and provides his own definitions. Chapter 2, "Heschel and the 'Joys of Mitsvah,'" enters more deeply into Heschel's theology, arguing that, despite some ambiguity about whether morality will always lead to personal fulfillment, Heschel establishes a firm theological and practical connection between following the law (mitzvah) and being happy. Chapter 3, "John Paul II and the Good We Must Do to Have Eternal Life," engages in a similar analysis of John Paul's thought (including his writings before becoming pope) and, despite using different theological categories (chief among them "Christ"), arrives at a similar conclusion: there is a necessary connection between being good and being happy. Chapter 4, which also functions as a conclusion, places the comparison between Heschel and John Paul into a wider comparative context, examining how their respective conclusions on morality and the good relate to insights from other contemporary perspectives, including the Dalai Lama, Peter Singer, and present-day "positive psychology." Fitzgerald concludes by offering five reasons why it is important to continue, in his words, an "interworldview" and "interdisciplinary" dialogue on how virtue relates to happiness.The book is richly sourced—containing 199 footnotes, bibliography, and detailed index—and serves as a good addition to the libraries of those working on John Paul II, Abraham Heschel, virtue theory, or comparative ethics more broadly. Yet its breadth on the comparative front also highlights its vulnerabilities, particularly on the question of what defines the relationship between virtue and happiness from a normative perspective. While providing lucid descriptive accounts of different conceptions of God and the good, for example, Fitzgerald acknowledges near the book's conclusion, "whether one finds [any] author persuasive will depend in large part on one's prior conclusions about the existence and nature of God and the afterlife" (184) and notes that this topic "cannot be resolved or even explored here" (185). However, these "prior conclusions" themselves are ultimately most meaningful for answering the book's central question.This reticence to engage in meta-ethical questions also leads the text to a problematic epistemological and ethical equalizing of each perspective, one that allows Fitzgerald to claim, for example, "while there is much common ground between Heschel, John Paul II, and [Peter] Singer on the relationship between morality and fulfillment, there are also key differences" (174). Here Fitzgerald understates the contrast: one of the "key" differences between Singer's utilitarian materialism and John Paul II's gospel of life is that Singer's position could serve as a paradigmatic representation of the "culture of death" [End Page 207] that John Paul spent his papacy resisting. Thus, while providing an excellent analysis of each thinker individually, the book's argument would benefit from establishing a firmer and more transparent standard for evaluating ethical claims across traditions.Matthew R. PetrusekLoyola Marymount UniversityCopyright © 2018 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

The use of modern medical technologies and interventions involves ethical and legal dilemmas which are yet to be solved. For the religious Jews the answer lies in Halakhah. The objective of this paper is to unscramble the difficult conundrum possessed by the halakhalic standing concerning the use of human embryonic cell for research. It also aims to take contemporary ethical issues arising from the use of technologies and medical advances made in human reproduction and study them from an abstract philosophical (...) perspective. Instead of providing any Jewish practical ruling the paper have tried to incite, stimulate and encourage philosophical thoughts about the issue through the intensive understanding of traditional Jewish thoughts. In this paper, an objective as well as a deep-rooted study has been adopted about the use of human embryos for research and the Jewish adoption of assisted reproductive technologies through the prism of the knowledge of Halakhah, Torah and Talmud. The paper finds that the embryo research sits at the crossroads of many halakhalic issues. Judaism adopts the belief that God has created man in his own image. The Jews not being dogmatic decipher “the image” of the creator as the ability to discern and reason. It follows that Judaism does not subscribe to the notion that tampering with nature is prohibited. To the Jews the mitzvah for procreation is so great that they are open to reason and adopt newer medical advancement in procreation. The Jewish laws are not only for engagement in intellectual exercise or academic pursuit but subscribe to a higher order of moral conduct. The Jewish approach is not situational but also casuistic in resolving conflicting medical issues. (shrink)

According to a prominent view in Jewish-Halakhic literature, “mitzvot (commandments) require intention.” That is, to fulfill one’s obligation in performing a commandment, one must intend to perform the act because it’s a mitzvah; one must take the fact that one’s act is a mitzvah as her reason for doing the action. I argue that thus understood, this Halakhic view faces a revised version of Thomas Hurka’s recent dilemma for structurally similar views in ethics: either it makes it a (...) necessary condition for the act’s being a mitzvah that one has a false belief about the act’s Halakhic status, or it commits proponents of the “mitzvot require intention” view to a sort of rational failure in performing the mitzvot. The dilemma arises, however, only if we interpret this Halakhic view as requiring one to have a belief about her act’s Halakhic status in order for it to have this status. I suggest that the dilemma can be avoided by interpreting the intention requirement as requiring a make-belief, instead of a belief. Under this understanding, Halakha (or God) doesn’t care about why one performs an act of a mitzvah, but rather about how she does it; how she sees and experiences her action. This suggests another form of worship central to Judaism—worship via make-believing. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Proudly Jewish—and Averse to CircumcisionLisa Braver MossI've always had a strong sense of my Jewish identity—and I've always had grave misgivings about circumcision. It used to seem that these [End Page 86] statements were at odds with one another. Now I'm on a mission to integrate the two.I'm married to a man who's also Jewish. In the late 1980s, we had two sons, whose circumcisions I agreed to. Brit (...) milah (the covenant of circumcision) is intended as a spiritually meaningful act symbolizing the agreement between God and the Jewish people. But for me, the experience was so upsetting that I didn't feel God's presence. In spite of all the arguments in favor—the weight of tradition, wanting my boys to be accepted in the Jewish world, and so on—I came to regret my acquiescence.I began to explore reasons to question circumcision from a Jewish point of view, publishing articles in Jewish magazines and speaking at conferences. Rather than focusing on the medical pros and cons, I wrote about Jewish law and ethics, and spoke with many rabbis. I was hoping to deepen Jewish dialogue on this topic, which was oddly off-limits in a culture that values intellectual inquiry.Besides helping me understand more about Judaism, my research and writing was a way of living with my guilt. I had succumbed to—and put my boys through—a tradition that went completely against my maternal instincts. This schism had made me doubt myself as a new mother. What kind of parent was I if I couldn't be a fierce protector of my newborn baby? It was not a positive or welcoming way for me to enter into motherhood.I blamed myself. I hadn't done medical research before my boys were born, trusting instead in the longevity of the tradition and the claim that circumcision is more hygienic. I bought into the medical justifications for circumcision—all of which, I later learned, fail to acknowledge the erogenous nature of foreskin tissue and its physiological function. If I'd known more; if I'd thought more deeply about infant trauma; if I'd taken my own spirituality more seriously—I would have fought for a different outcome, despite the pressure I felt as a Jewish person.Years went by. I wrote a novel about Jewish circumcision, then co-wrote a book of alternative bris ceremonies for families opting out of circumcision. Slowly, I came to understand that blaming myself for agreeing to circumcise my sons was not only a waste of time, but also missed the larger point. I'm not alone in my objections to this ancient tradition. Indeed, many Jewish parents get through the event with white knuckles, emotional detachment, alcohol, or sedatives rather than with genuine religious feeling. Shouldn't their spiritual authenticity matter? Shouldn't mine have mattered?In Judaism, every commandment (of which circumcision is one) should be approached with kavanah, or spiritual intent. Thus, my non-spiritual feelings about the circumcision tradition are problematic from a Jewish point of view. I should have been able to tell the rabbi I didn't really believe circumcision was what God wanted me to do. I wish I'd been guided in coming to a decision that reflected my actual spirituality. Instead, all that seemed to matter to anyone was getting the deed done.Going against my instincts and spirituality was not just my failing—it also represented an institutional failing. Jewish leaders and rabbis aren't trained to respond compassionately to those averse to circumcision. Even parents merely questioning the practice may be subjected to judgment, lectures, and condescension. Parents deciding not to circumcise may face all that and more: in some synagogues in the U.S., boys that have not been circumcised are currently being denied bar mitzvah.________In the Jewish world, we tend to look upon circumcision as the one monolithic tradition: we assume that every Jewish male is circumcised and that no one talks about or questions this. The truth is that throughout our history, there have been males who, for various reasons, did not undergo the ritual... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:WORKING WARFARE AND ITS RESTRICTIONS IN THE JEWiSH TRADITION Reuven Kimelman Brandeis University The test case for any political theory of checks and balances is war. It also tests the outer limits of the ethical deployment of power. I. Types of Wars The Jewish ethics of war focuses on two issues: its legitimation and its conduct. The Talmud classifies wars according to their source oflegitimation. Biblically mandated wars are (...) termed mandatory (milhemet mitzvah or milhemet hovah). Wars undertaken at the discretion of the Sanhédrin are termed discretionary (milhemet reshut). There are three types of mandatory wars: Joshua's war of conquest againstthe seven Canaanite nations, the war againstAmaleq, anddefensive wars against an already launched attack. Discretionary wars are usually expansionary efforts undertaken to enhance the political prestige of the government or to secure economic gain. The first type of mandatory war is only of historical interest as the Canaanite nations lost their national identity already in ancient times. This ruling, which appears repeatedly in rabbinic literature, is part ofa tendency to blunt the impact of the seven-nations policy. The Bible points out that these policies were not implemented even during the zenith of ancient Israel's power (Kings 9:20; 2 Chr 8:7-9; see also Judges 1:21-33, Ps 106:34). Indeed, an ancient Midrash explicitly excludes the possibility of transferring the seven-nations ruling to other non-Jewish residents of the Land ofIsrael. Maimonides is just as explicit in emphasizing that all trace 44Reuven Kimmelman of them has vanished. By limiting the jurisdiction of the seven-nations ruling to the conditions ofancient Canaan it was effectively removed from the postbiblical ethical agendaand vitiated as aprecedent forcontemporary practice. The second category ofmandatory war, against Amaleq, has also been rendered operationally defunct by comparing them with the Canaanites, or by postponing the battle to the immediate premessianic struggle, or by viewing them as a metaphor for genocidal evil. The two remaining categories, reactive defensive wars (which are classified as mandatory) and expansionary wars (which are classified as discretionary) remain intact. So, for example, King David's response to the Philistine attackaredesignated mandatory, whereashis wars "to expandthe border of Israel" are designated discretionary. Intermediate wars such as preventive, anticipatory, or preemptive defy so neat a classification. Not only are the classifications debated in the Talmud, but commentators disagree on the categorization of the differing positions in the Talmud. The major clash occurs between the eleventh century Franco-German scholar Rashi and the thirteenth century Franco-Provencal scholar Meiri. According to Rashi, the majority position considers preemptive action to be discretionary whereas the minority position expounded by Rabbi Judah considers it to be mandatory. According to Meiri, a preemptive strike, against an enemy who it is feared might attack or who is already known to be preparing for war is deemed mandatory by the majority ofthe rabbis, but discretionaryby Rabbi Judah. Accordingly, Rabbi Judah defines a counterattack as mandatory only in response to an already launched attack. A similar reading of Maimonides also limits the mandatory classification to a defensive war launched in response to an attack. With these distinctions between mandatory and discretionary wars in mind, we should be able to investigate the Jewish concerns with the problematics ofwarby focusing on preemptive strikes, declarations ofwar, ethics of warfare, and draftability. II. Preemptive Strikes as Self-Defense Not only Machiavellians view the security and survival ofthe state as nonnegotiable. National self-defense is as much amoral right as is personal self-preservation. Whereas it is clear that offensive war cannot be subsumed under the inalienable right of self-defense, the moral status of pre-emptive attacks is not as clear. Is the moral category of self-defense Working Warfare and Its Restrictions in the Jewish Tradition 45 limited to an already launched attack? The majority talmudic position, according to Rashi, and that of Rabbi Judah, according to Meiri, would answer in the affirmative. Their position is seconded by Article 51 of the United Nations Charter, which states: "Nothing in the present Charter shall impair the inherentright ofindividual ofcollective self-defense ifan armed attack occurs against a member." The minority position of Rabbi Judah, according to Rashi, and the... (shrink)

Peru u-revu is the sacred responsibility to have children. This responsibility is foundational to the human experience, and to the experience of being Jewish. Of Mirrors & Apple Trees: The Lomdus of Peru u-Revu comes to analyze: a. the philosophy of this mitzvah, b. how this philosophy is derived from analyzing the mitzvah's parameters, and c. how this philosophy is derived from analyzing the mitzvah's interrelationship with some of the Torah's other mitzvos.

This slim volume comprises the text of the three Baumgardt Lectures on Monotheism and Ethics delivered by Goodman at the Oxford Center for Postgraduate Hebrew Studies in Oxford and at Yarnton Manor in January 1978. Chapter One, "The Logic of Monotheism," argues that the development of the monotheistic idea is inextricably tied to issues of morality, that is, to the emerging idea of God as "the absolute and unconfined summation of all values." Chapter Two, "The Existence of God," presents Goodman's (...) version of a rationalist understanding of God as "the ultimate explanatory principle of the world" which is Itself explicable only by reference to Itself, and is hence, absolute, infinite and perfect. Chapter Three, "Monotheism and Ethics," is clearly the pinnacle of Goodman's study for which the first two chapters provide the infrastructure. Here Goodman asks: what possible bearing can an absolute and infinitely transcendent Being have on human morality? He argues that the derivation of morality from our concept of divinity ceases to be a problem once it is recognized that the concept of a monotheistic God is itself a product of our developing sense of what is moral. How a God who is the embodiment of absolute perfection implies moral obligation Goodman discusses through an extended phenomenological analysis of the Jewish idea of mitzvah, primarily the command that we recognize each person's subjecthood as the moral equivalent of our own. The rest of the chapter deals with the problems involved in deriving specific moral decisions from this "universal moral principle.". (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: Warming Up Seeking Early Solace Experience and Thought So Be It Against Lukewarmness Pragmatic Use of Belief.

Abstract This essay examines the conditions under which the great medieval Jewish rabbinic figure Moses Maimonides (1138?1204) took war to be justified. In particular, it argues that Maimonides did not hold that universal belief in one deity, on the model of a (Christian or Almohad) holy war or religious crusade, is a sufficient condition to justify the pursuit of a war. At most a war is justified if it enables the creation of a monotheistic environment for the Jewish people within (...) their own boundaries or national territory. Among other topics, the essay also analyzes Maimonides' distinction between ?commanded? wars and ?optional wars?, his concept of idolatry, and his account of jus in bellum. (shrink)

In the Jewish tradition there are those who simply identify divine justice with the specific divine commands, which is a theological version of legal positivism. This paper argues for another view in the Jewish tradition, viz., divine justice or divine wisdom is the rationale of the specific divine commands, thus making them more than arbitrary decrees. As the rationale of the specific divine commands, divine justice functions as a criterion of judgment that prevents irrational interpretations and unjust applications of the (...) specific divine commands. This approach is a theological version of natural law. (shrink)