19. Torah U'Parnassa, Twin Peaks, and the Humanities

Alternative approaches to chochmah b'goyim, and Rav Aharon Lichtenstein on the value of studying the humanities

The Alternatives

The approach to secular wisdom described last week is different than two others, both of which may be embodied by students on either side of our soldier sitting in his university classes.

On one side, there may be someone who embraces Torah U’parnassah: The value of a university education is purely in the fact that it facilitates an opportunity to make money. There is nothing fundamentally better about being a doctor than flipping houses or selling doorknobs on Amazon; whichever one makes the most amount of money with the least amount of time and effort should be chosen, as it will facilitate the most amount of time for talmud Torah.

One source marshalled to support this perspective is the Gemara in Kiddushin’s directive to teach your child a trade that is nekiyah v’kalah — clean (of ethical/moral dilemmas) and simple. To be clear, the imperative to support oneself and his family cannot be overstated; Torah U’parnassah is absolutely a kiyum of that necessity. What we are describing is a level beyond that: to reach for a parnassah that provides for one’s family while also making a meaningful, significant impact on some slice of the world, based on the “package” that Hashem granted you when He brought you into the world.

On the other side, there may be a student that believes in Torah V’Chochmah, but as “twin peaks,” two independent values, rather than two means to the end of avodas Hashem. He believes in the pursuit of wisdom for no ulterior motive — wisdom for wisdom’s sake.

While this species is becoming rarer and rarer in our utilitarian society, they do still exist. They don’t feel a need to justify their exploration of chochmah ba’goyim with a greater goal, such as understanding Torah, developing a relationship with the Creator, or to impact the world; they are just curious to explore the world to better understand it, nothing more. That is also different than what we are describing: our approach is rooted in b’chol d’rachecha da’ehu and kol maasecha yihyu l’shem Shamayim, holding fast to the ideal that everything in life should revolve around Hashem, while recognizing the breadth of what that circle can contain within its orbit.¹

The Humanities

Much of what has been said so far has applied more to the sciences — biology, chemistry, psychology — than to the humanities — literature, history, and philosophy. What is the value, if any, of exploring the humanities?

One cannot discuss the humanities side of worldly wisdom without referencing Rav Aharon Lichtenstein. He is practically the spokesman for this sector of the university. What does he have to say about the significance of a ben Torah engaging in general culture and the humanities? In his essay The End of Learning,² Rav Aharon quotes from Milton’s Of Education that our ultimate goal should be “regaining to know God aright,” which can be accomplished by investigating the world that He created (in addition, for us, to getting to know Him through His Torah; see Sefer HaMitzvos, Mitzvos Asei 3 and Yesodei HaTorah 2:2). Assuming that man is the clearest representation of Hashem (as much as that is possible), as expressed by Hashem’s declaration of “naaseh Adam b’tzalmeinu kidmuseinu,” to understand man in a deep way is to best approach and develop an awareness of God.

Is it conceivable, then, that anyone could consider contemplation of God’s handiwork as adequate, while omitting study of its fullest manifestation?...But what about man do we primarily seek to know? … the committed Jew, tzelem Elokim…Is it possible that of all people, Bnei Torah, who vigorously challenge Darwinism because it defines metaphysical man in purely animal terms, should commend biology but disdain literature, confront man as body but not spirit? The study of man as spirit is, however, what the humanities are all about.

On sensitivity to language: “The humanities, through direct linguistic instruction as well as by the teaching of literature, instill sensitivity and precision with respect what we have to say, and what we hear and read.”

On the ideas contained in literature:

But the humanities do not simply teach us language in general. They initiate us into the world of ruah memalela at its finest, introducing us, in Arnold’s celebrated phrase, to “the best which has been thought and said in the world.” Great literature presents either a rendering, factual or imaginative, of aspects of the human condition, or a record of the artist’s grappling with the ultimate questions of human existence: man’s relation to himself, to others, to the cosmos, and, above all, to the Ribbono shel Olam…great poetry may be imaginative and passionate — and, as such, inspiring, exhilarating, and ennobling.

On history:

As a record of human existence, of man’s achievements and failures, of his aspirations and shortcomings, history deals with both individual and society — and often with their interaction. It helps us to study sefer toledot Adam, and, as well, to contemplate the ways of Providence, in fulfillment of the mandate, ‘Remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations; ask thy father, and he will declare unto thee, thine elders and they will tell thee’ (Devarim 32:7). Obviously, however, history presents us with much more than a record. Covertly or overtly, depending upon the historiographic orientation, it conveys clear moral import…As we learn to perceive pattern and structure, we deepen our understanding of the dynamics of human existence, so that study of the past helps us not only to relate to the present, but…to anticipate the future.

Rav Aharon detailed the benefits of three areas of the humanities: language, literature, and history. Each one contributes to a better understanding of man, the apex of creation made in God’s own image, either as an individual or as part of a tzibbur, in the past, present, and future. He wrote:

The humanities, in sum, enable us to expand our horizons with reference to man and society beyond the bounds of narrow personal experience that ordinarily circumscribe us, wherein we are confronted by what Bacon called the idols of the cave and the marketplace. In doing so, they significantly enhance our ability to cope with the two primary challenges of the moral and spiritual life: tikkun of self within this antechamber to the world-to-come; and tikkun of the antechamber proper.

To be sure, the challenges in all areas, and especially the humanities, are great. On the most basic level, any time devoted to these subjects is necessarily stolen from learning or direct maaseh mitzvah; time is our most precious asset, and every minute should be justified. Once we allow other pursuits any modicum of value, it automatically becomes a struggle to maintain the primacy that Torah and direct avodas Hashem are meant to enjoy. On the level of content, many writers do not share our values; it is our responsibility to ensure that we are “picking out the fruit and leaving the rind,” but that is not an easy task; it takes a Rabbi Meir to do it with confidence.³ If the content crosses the boundaries of halachah, no matter what we stand to gain, the ends do not justify the means; we must recoil, affirming that the ultimate goal was not wisdom, but avodas Hashem.

The Trades

Thinking back to our room full of fifth graders, with distinct groups already showing their different natures, there will be a certain number of students for whom their academic experience is already challenging enough. Does it really make sense that they should be shunted into more years of frontal book learning, when it is so clearly not suited to their temperament and interests? What if there was another track available for them?

There is definitely room to discuss “learning on the job” and apprenticeship for more hands-on types of jobs, like many of those actually involved in building the Mishkan itself. In fact, many of our physically talented fifth graders above would do well to consider these careers. A friend from my time in Yeshivat Hakotel stayed in learning for a number of years after I left for Yeshiva University. We were recently catching up and I asked him what he was doing, and I was surprised to hear that he had managed to continue learning and teaching in yeshiva, albeit half a day. I asked him how he managed that; after all, he was already married with a number of children, and Jerusalem apartments aren’t cheap!

He answered that a few years ago, he saw the numbers written on the wall and realized that he needed to do something to make ends meet. So he took a break from yeshiva for a couple of months and apprenticed himself to a plumber, learning the trade call by call, pipe by pipe, and blockage by blockage. He enjoyed the hands-on practicality of learning a tangible skill and appreciated the fact that almost every call made a significant impact for someone — whether it was a toilet that wasn’t working or a shower that was overflowing, he felt a real sense of chessed on most jobs. After those initial months, he was able to start going on calls on his own and quickly developed a good reputation. With the ability to set his own schedule, he decided to hold on to one full seder in yeshiva and go on calls during the other seder; this was lucrative enough to maintain for at least a few years. This model can work for a number of other jobs: electrician, photographer, locksmith, handyman, carpenter, and many more. If any of these resonate, it would be worth exploring as a potential option.

This is not in any way a lesser form of contributing to the dirah b’tachtonim, the complete society run according to Torah values with God at the center. Every community needs blue-collar workers just as much as they need white-collar workers. Because these professions are directly oriented toward service and solving problems for people, they spend their days involved in chessed. Additionally, because in many cases people in these jobs work for themselves, they’ll be able to bring sugyos relevant to business ownership to the community beis midrash.

1. See Pachad Yitzchak, Igros u’Kesavim #94.

2. Printed in Leaves of Faith Vol. 1, pgs. 105-117.

3. See Chagigah 15b.