Yitav Lev is an acronym for Yekutiel Yehudah (Zalman Leib) Teitelbaum of Sziget, known as the (1808–83). |
Introduction
This article, based extensively on the research by Professor Benjamin Brown[1] deals with the paradoxical idea of “holy sin” or “aveirah lishma”- where sometimes it is considered a mitzvah to sin - as found in some kabbalistic and Chassidic thought.
Origins in the Babylonian
Talmud
The origin of “aveirah lishma”,
or “sin for its own sake” is found in a discussion in the Babylonian
Talmud:
אָמַר רַב נַחְמָן בַּר יִצְחָק גְּדוֹלָה
עֲבֵירָה לִשְׁמָהּ מִמִּצְוָה שֶׁלֹּא לִשְׁמָהּ
“Rav Nachman bar Yitzchak said:
Greater is a transgression committed for its own sake (i.e., for the sake of
Heaven) than a mitzva performed not for its own sake.”[2]
A famous biblical example is Yael
who entered into a physical relationship with the Canaanite general Sisra and
then killed him. She sinned, we are told, so that the Israelites would win the
war. The incidents concerning Lot’s daughters, Yehuda and Tamar, and Ester and
Achashverosh, are viewed in a similar manner.
Revitalisation of “holy sin”
in later times
While this idea of “holy sin” did
not seem to manifest itself during medieval times, it experienced a
revitalisation in the promiscuous theology of the false messiah Shabbata Tzvi
(1626-1676) and his Sabbatian movement. It was believed that messianic
redemption would come about only through sin. This was based upon an earlier kabbalistic
notion of tikkun where is it sometimes necessary to descend into the sin
in order to remedy it.
The Chassidic movement
The Chassidic movement which
followed soon on the heels of the Sabbatian movement accepted the kabbalistic
notion of descent into the sin, but as Brown (2013:347) points out:
“There are no extant testimonies
that describe the Hasidim committing acts that were justified as sins for the
sake of Heaven.”
However, the Mitnagdim, or
opponents of the Chassidic movement, particularly under R. Chaim of
Volozhin (1749–1821) were eager to point out that at least in principle, the
notion of “holy sin” was sustained by the Chassidim. R. Chaim emphasised that
the original Talmudic doctrine of “holy sin” only applied to biblical
times, prior to the giving of the Torah, or to Gentiles, but now Chassidim (and,
as we shall see, predominantly Hungarian Chassidim) had revitalised it.[3]
As is well-known to students of
Chassidism, by the third and fourth generations, the movement became far more
‘neutralised’ as it began to lose its original revolutionary radicalism. The
symbolic date for this change is 1815. During that year, the Congress of Vienna
reshaped the borders of Eastern Europe, and:
“Galicia [southeastern Poland and
western Ukraine] was returned to full Austrian rule, and its Hasidic
leaders became closely linked with those of Hungary, who now shared the same
sovereign” (Brown 2013:348).
The Hungarian Chassidim were
predominantly in the backwaters or “Unterland”, including the foothills of the
Carpathian Mountains, where Jews spoke Yiddish - as opposed to the more built-up areas known as the “Oberland” where Jews spoke Hungarian and German.[4] It
was also in these more rural areas of Hungary that the Chareidi or
“Ultra-Orthodox” movement was soon to emerge in the late nineteenth century. The
extreme rabbinic “manifesto” signed in the Hungarian town of Mihalowitz in 1865
is seen as the official beginnings of the new Chareidi movement.
[See: Kotzk
Blog: 041) The Reforms Of The Ultra-Orthodox - A Short History Of Haredim]
The Hungarian Jews were known to
be very strict and placed a huge emphasis on “Yiddishkeit” as in “Yiddishism”
as opposed to the way the term is used today to denote general “Judaism”. They
wanted to distance themselves, not just from non-Jews, and not just from
non-religious Jews, but even, if not particularly, from other Orthodox Jews.
They used their language (which was Yiddish, not Hebrew), dress code (which wasn’t
particularly Jewish in the first instance, as it imitated that of non-Jewish
nobility) and their particular customs to separate themselves from all others.
They were also opposed to the Enlightenment and all forms of modernity which
threatened their way of life. Brown (2013:349) writes:
“Hasidism adopted many of the
conservative values of its antagonists, the Mitnagdim, and sometimes presented
them in an even more extreme manner.”
Although the shift to
ultra-Orthodoxy in Hungary was germane to both Mitnagdim and Chassidim, the
Hungarian Chassidim became the most extreme. It is ironic that it was this
extreme wing of ultra-Orthodoxy that re-introduced the dormant notion of “holy
sin”.
The move away from the ethos
of earlier Chassidim
The move away from early
Chassidic radical mysticism was spearheaded by R. Naftali Tzvi of Ropshitz (1760–1827).
He discouraged the practice of “elevating fallen sparks” as did R.
Shneur Zalman of Lyadi (1745–1812) who wrote in his Tanya that this
practice was only for the few tzadikim.[5]
Later, R. Tzvi Elimelekh of Dynow
(known as the Bnei Yissoskhor, 1783–1841) urgently opposed the earlier
Chassidic practices of “elevating alien thoughts”. This was where a
worshipper would think forbidden thoughts in order to overcome them and ‘elevate’
them during prayer. He also suggested that the Hitlahavut or burning
religious energy of the Chassidim would be better served by becoming more Halachically
strict and by adopting gedarim u-syagim (“fences and safeguards”).
And then the concept of “descent
of the tzadik” was soon abolished too, because not all rebbes were comfortable
associating with the sinners and the non-observant. In this vein, R. Yitzhak
Meir of Gur (1799– 1866) is quoted as saying:
“It is well known that coming
close to the wicked, even in order to uplift them, is of great danger, lest
they draw the tzaddik to them…”
The Hungarian world becomes stricter,
more isolated and ‘secedes’
After the Mihalowitz “manifesto”
of 1865, which signalled the official birth of the Chareidi movement,
another political event occurred whereby in 1869, in Budapest, a meeting was
convened to cement the breaking away of the new Ultra-Orthodox (Chassidim and
Mitnagdim) from the rest of Jewish world. They called themselves the “Shomrei
haDa’as” (guardians of the faith) and requested official recognition from
the Hungarian and Galician governments to be regarded as a separate entity from the
general Jewish community. In 1871 this right was officially recognised. Brown
(2013:353-4) explains:
“In dozens of Hungarian Jewish
population centers, the Orthodox seceded from the existing Jewish communal
organizations and established separate communities under the auspices of a
national organization… Only a few Hasidic rebbes refused to accept the
separatist policy.”
In 1878, the “Machzikei
haDa’as” (enforcers of the faith) was established to promote secession from
the other Jewish communities in Galicia as well, but it failed to get official
recognition.
Forbidden behaviours and
social practices become permitted
One of the fiercest antimodernists was R. Yekutiel Yehudah (Zalman Leib) Teitelbaum of Sziget, known as the Yitav Lev (1808–83) and the leader of one of the largest group of Chassidim. (His grandson, R. Yoel Teitelbaum was to become the rebbe of Satmar.) The Yitav Lev proclaimed that any Jew who did not observe Shabbat, was regarded as if they had rejected the entire Torah and were to be treated like converts. Burial in a Jewish cemetery was restricted under certain conditions. It was time to fight the secular as well as the central Orthodox world with what he called “azut deKedusha” or “holy defiance”. It was permitted to behave in ways that were normally not permitted. It was acceptable to shame and humiliate those who did not follow the ways of the ultra-Orthodox. He wrote that although haughtiness, anger, hatred, and envy are bad, they become good when directed against the ‘other’:
“[When] one shows anger towards
those who disobey His will ... or hate the haters of the Lord, and the like…[e]ven
the [actions reflecting] improper traits ... when done for His sake, are good
and beautiful.”[6]
This was a manifestation of the notion
of “holy sin” where something admittedly wrong and evil is essentially theologised
into something right and enviable. His son, R. Chananyah Yom Tov Lipa
Teitelbaum (known as the Kedushas Yom-Tov, 1836–1904), who even wrote
about conformity regarding home furnishings, was not averse to using:
“thugs to drive a promiscuous
woman out of Sziget, to hurt students of a dance school, and to ‘close accounts’
with anyone who opposed the rebbe.”
He explained that even though
compassion was a good trait:
“it is sometimes necessary for any
leader of the Jewish people to act with cruelty and to use a powerful stick ...
so that they will listen to his voice, and he can instruct them and lead them
with his strong arm on the paths of Torah and its commandments.”[7]
A return to “holy sin” whilst
abrogating other early Chassidic innovations
As mentioned, the “elevation
of alien thoughts” fell into disuse because generally, it was advised not
to play dice with the evil inclination. The “descent of the tzadik” was also
minimised, as to the contrary, borders were set up between Jew and Jew, and few
“tzadikim” would want to associate with sinners. However, surprisingly,
Brown (2013:359) shows that when it came to “holy sin”:
“this very doctrine continued to
flourish—at least as a theory—in the most unexpected place: among the rebbes of
Hungary and Galicia, particularly those of the ultra-conservative rabbinical
faction. Those rebbes, who were the first to reject less radical doctrines as
dangerous, did not hesitate to preach “holy sin” until as late as the early
twentieth century.”
Some examples of this newly
revitalised theology follow:
1) R. Menachem Mendel of
Vizhnitz
Although some rebbes were recommending
no contact between the righteous and the sinners, R. Menachem Mendel of
Vizhnitz wrote that sometimes the tzaddik must perform an actual
transgression in order to find a common denominator with sinners and thus save
their souls.[8]
2) R. Tzvi Elimelekh of Dynow
It was R. Tzvi Elimelekh of Dynow
who, as we saw earlier, was fighting for more and stricter gedarim u-syagim
(“fences and safeguards”), also developed an unusual theology regarding “holy
sin”. This is his logic:
“any act, even the fulfillment of
a commandment, which is not done with the intent to honor God but rather for
some other purpose such as the glorification of a person or for monetary gain
or honor is considered idolatrous because he worships that thing, be it the
person or the money.”[9]
So, he reasoned, if one can
fulfil a commandment but still be regarded as an idolater, then it follows
that:
“the opposite can at times be
true—‘great is a sin for the sake of heaven’.”
And sometimes one can equally
perform a sin, but be regarded as “tzadik”! Furthermore:
“When a person does not want to perform
a sin that is necessary ... thinking it to be an evil—his action is considered
improper.”
According to this theology, actively
choosing “holy sin” is so important that it is worth enduring the punishment
for it.
3) R. Yekutiel Yehudah (Zalman
Leib) Teitelbaum
The Yitav Lev, R. Yekutiel
Yehudah (Zalman Leib) Teitelbaum takes this idea even further. He believes that
sometimes a “holy sin” must be performed even when there is another sinless way of achieving the same end. Brown (2013:361) explains:
“In the opinion of the Yitav Lev,
Esther sinned when she agreed to marry the king of Persia, since mixed
marriages are forbidden according to Jewish law. However, this sin was in the
category of a sin for the sake of Heaven because it was necessary in order to
save the Jewish people. In fact, the Yitav Lev explains, it would have been
possible to bring about this salvation without the sin, for, as Mordecai
himself said, “enlargement and deliverance [shall] arise to the Jews from
another place” (Esther 4:14). Esther, however, was adamant that the
salvation be brought about through a sin for the sake of Heaven in order to
correct the mistake of her ancestor Saul, who failed precisely because he refrained
from performing a sin for the sake of Heaven.
The reference is to King Saul who refused
to kill Agag of Amalek . R. Elimelech of Lizensk explains that Saul thought it
was forbidden to kill him. However, G-d was angry with him for not doing so –
specifically because it was forbidden! It was indeed forbidden but he should have done it anyway because it was "holy sin".
So - on this view - later on in history, the Saul and Agag episode was reenacted by Ester and Haman as rectification or tikkun (Noam Elimelech, Nasso, 70a-b).
4) R. Tzvi Hirsch of Liszka
R. Tzvi Hirsch
of Liszka also develops an ingenuous theology to explain “holy sin”.
According to Kabbalah, when performing a mitzva, the actual deed
is regarded as the ‘body’ and the intent, or kavvanah, is
considered the ‘soul’. When the mitzvah is performed incorrectly, one is
left with a body without a soul.
However, when performing a “holy
sin” the person activates the soul without the body, and then:
“God combines the two ... as if
they are one act. And therefore, ‘great is the sin for the sake of heaven,’ for
the intent is provided by the sin, which represents the soul.”[10]
R. Tzvi Hirsch of Liszka
continues that although Jacob lied and deceived his father, Isaac, it was a “sin
for the sake of heaven” and it was elevated to the level of holiness.[11]
Analysis
In the final analysis, we are
left with a simple question: Can there be such a thing bad theology? Subjectively,
there clearly can because any theology that a person dislikes, immediately
becomes ‘bad’ theology. The theology is considered ‘bad’ relative to that particular
person.
But is there a point where, objectively,
a certain theology becomes ‘bad’ by any standards? Does “holy sin” cross a theological
line? Are there any lines in theology? Should there be? - It will be left for
the reader to decide.
[1]
Brown, B., 2013,’The Two Faces of Religious Radicalism: Orthodox Zealotry and
“Holy Sinning” in Nineteenth-Century Hasidism in Hungary and Galicia,’ The
Journal of Religion, vol. 93, no. 2, The University of Chicago Press, 341-374.
[2]
b. Nazir 23b. See also b. Horayot, 10b.
[3] R.
Asher HaCohen, Keter Rosh (Orchot Chaim) (Valozhin, 1819), art.
132. See also R. Chayim of Volozhin, Nefesh HaChayim, 7, 90, where he
warns that such practices are nothing but the temptations of the evil
inclination.
[4] See
Michael K. Silber, “The Emergence of Ultra-Orthodoxy: The Invention of a
Tradition,” in The Uses of Tradition, ed. Jack Wertheimer (Jerusalem: 1992).
[5]
R. Shneur Zalman of Lyadi, Tanya (Slavuta: Shapiro Brothers Press, 1796),
1:28.
[6]
R. Yekutiel Yehudah (Zalman Leib) Teitelbaum of Sziget, letter no. 26, in R.
Israel Moshe Hazan et al., Kin’at Tziyon (Amsterdam, 1845).
[7]
Teitelbaum, Kedushat Yom-Tov, Shemot, 42b.
[8]
Rabbi Chaim of Kosov, Torat Chaim (Lemberg: F. Grossmann Press, 1855), Likkutim,
4b.
[9]
R. Tzvi Elimelekh Shapiro of Dynow, Agra deKhala (Lemberg: Poremba, 1868),
55b–56a.
[10]
Friedman, Akh Peri Tevuah, Vayera,
22a–22b, and Bo, 88b–88c.
[11]
Friedman, Akh Peri Tevuah, Toldot, 32b–32c.
extremely informative on a delicate subject. Yeishar koikh'kha!
ReplyDeleteBnei Noach are allowed to marry their daughter, so Loth did not sin with his daughters and there is no incest. Tamar did not sin with Yehuda because before the giving of the Torah, prostitution was considered a type of marriage. MOST IMPORTANTLY, "redemption through sin" is a Christian concept. So there you go!
ReplyDeleteDid the Talmud get the terminology "aveirah lishemah" from Christianity? And did R. Tzvi Hirsch of Liszka take his “sin for the sake of heaven” from a Christian theological work?
ReplyDeleteNo I don't think so, but the interpretation attributing salvation through sin is...
ReplyDeletePS. I forgot to mention that Boaz and Ruth did not live in Victorian England and that Yael and Esther did not derive any pleasure from their deed. When King David says "My mother conceived me in sin" he is clearly speaking against the immaculate conception!
ReplyDeleteThank you for clarifying.
ReplyDelete