The radical shift from human dominance over the
world through mans' exercise of free will to a situation where the Divine
directly, actively and innovatively intervenes in the world through
His law of divine providence
creates a new situation which it is difficult
for – and not at all obvious that - man can adapt to. For it is no small feat to persuade
man to freely give up his initiative and the control over his existential reality, instead of
relying upon himself, placing his burdens upon the shoulders of He who sits in the
Heavens, believing and relying upon His very own individualized, attentive care. For, the
psalmist asks: What is man that You should know him? (Psalm 8:5) And our tradition
responds, as grass that withers.
It is difficult to imagine how highly an
individual could possibly evaluate himself, in order to justify the
Master of the Universe's personal, individualized attention. This
angst, which every "man of woman born" feels is the root of man's
difficulty in believing in and trusting in G-d; in this emotional
quandary, and not in the philosophical difficulty of bringing proofs
for G-d's existence, a pursuit dear to the hearts of the medieval
thinkers (including, R. Bachya ibn Paquda in the "Treatise on the
Examination of Creation"[Sha`ar HaBehina] in his The
Duties of the Heart
) and those who are still stuck
following in their footsteps.
G-d's hardening of Pharoah's heart, found in our parsha, is a focal point for the
commentators' clarification of the relationship between free will and divine providence.
At the beginning of the parsha, Nahmanides writes:
By the name `E-il
Sha-dai: The purport of the verse is that He appeared to
the patriarchs by this name [E-il Sha-dai], which indicates that He
is the victor [and prevailer] over the hosts of heaven, doing great
miracles for them except that no change from the natural order of
the world was noticeable … It is not [in nature] that man should be
rewarded for performance of a commandment or punished for committing
a transgression but by a miracle. If man were left to his nature or
his fortune, his deeds would neither add to him nor diminish from
him. Rather, reward and punishment in this world, as mentioned in
the entire scope of the Torah, are all miracles, but they are
hidden. They appear to the onlooker as being part of the natural
order of things, but in truth they come upon man as punishment and
reward [for his deeds]. It is for this reason that the Torah speaks
at great length of the assurances concerning this world, and does
not explain the assurances of the soul in "the World of Souls."
These [assurances mentioned in the Torah as recompense for the
observance or transgression of the Divine Commandments] are wonders
which go contrary to nature, while the existence of the soul [after
the death of the body]and its cleaving unto G-d are the proper way
inherent in its nature that she returneth unto G-d Who gave
it
(Chavel, 1973, 65-
66).
It seems that, according to Nahmanides, free will is
not manifested by mans' actions, for, as he comments on the story of
Joseph, sent by his father to meet his brothers, "the decree is
truth, and diligence is falsehood." Mans' actions are influenced by
a master plan, and are not governed by his own free will. Mans' will
only has jurisdiction over meaning, found in the depths of the Self, in the quality of the subject
. Thus, choice is the ability to
give either positive or negative meaning to one's actions, the choice "to intend" with
quality.
This division between
Being and Doing, which relegates free will to
the category of Being, and distances it from the world of practice,
raises the question: When did the hardening of Pharaoh's
heart, and the nullification of his free will, take place?
The Bible reports that Pharaoh "refused to send the people;" was it
really within his power to send the nation or prevent it from going?
For, as we have just established, free choice does not play a role
in the realm of action, not for Pharaoh and not for any individual;
as for the righteous, apparently, so for the wicked, according to
Nahmanides. On the plane of mechanistic
intentionality (as opposed to that of quality intentionality), free choice
does not play a role. If so, why was it taken away from Pharaoh?
The Heart
Follows the Actions
In transferring choice from the category of
Doing to that of Being, the bilateral influences between intention
and action are not disrupted, rather those relationships between
reward and punishment -- directly in the world to come, and hidden
behind the veil of nature in this world -- are. The connection
between Doing and Being is organic, and can not be interfered with.
Following the rule of "the heart follows the actions" and its
corollary, the actions influence the quality of the intention, and,
conversely, of course, the intentions influence and establish
behavior. From this, it is clear that according to Nahmanides, the
will, which resides in the internal quality
and directly guides the intention, also indirectly
influences praxis. Thus, according to Nahmanides' approach, the hardening of Pharaoh's
heart seems to be the unnatural placement of a "shield" which interrupts the bilateral
flow of influence between Doing and Being. Paradoxically, on the one hand, Pharaoh's
behavior is not ruled by his evil intention; however, on the other hand, even if he chooses
to change his evil intent to a righteous one, he cannot better his actions. In other words,
Pharaoh is taken out of the picture, his status, for better or worse, no longer effects the
divine decree to save Israel.
Indeed, the purpose of the ten plagues is encapsulized by the phrase,"to take out the
prisoners with distaffs," in the words of the saintly Or HaHaim, tears for the Egyptians
and songs for the Jews. Or to put it more bluntly, the plagues had really been intended for
the benefit of the Jews, to open their eyes to G-d's rule, to enable their belief in Him, and
more crucially, to open their hearts to His involvement in their affairs, an involvement
where divine providence replaces free will - a concept, which as I have noted above, is
difficult for man, who has apparently been forced to give up on his autonomy, to accept.
In light
of this revolutionary change in G-d's rule of the world, where free
will's role has been minimized in order to maximize divine
providence's, we must consider the injury done to Pharaoh's free
will. Apparently, the ousting of free will from its position of
direct influence on the realm of action, on Doing,
was not absolute. The cybernetic cycle which characterizes human
existence both sandwiches and weaves together all the elements of
personality one dependant upon the other without division between
them. Thus, we should not differentiate between the realms of
quality intentionality, where quality creates meaning, and the realm
of praxis. Doing so might place praxis in the hands of the blind,
power-wielding, mechanistic system
.
It is inconceivable to
imagine such a situation occurring, even in Pharaoh's case. In the
case of any other mortal, the internal quality would still penetrate
into the world of action by way of the power of free
will, left in its control, and by way of those additional
reserves of free will granted to it, after it was uprooted from the
world of praxis. The choice of this quality
would of course indirectly influence actions. Thus, the power of
free will is preserved as fundamental to man, determines man's behavior, be it harsh or
kind, and, in the end, enables man to receive a heavenly response – in the form of reward
or punishment!
Seemingly, the removal of Pharaoh's free will
caused the cybernetic cycle to be interrupted so that the influence
of the flow from the subject -- who chooses -- to the object
-- which acts
-- was stopped. In future studies (in the next parsha) we will
witness, and perhaps even understand how the principle of reward and punishment
functions in the framework of this new approach. The transfer of the `natural` divine
providence to the level of this worldly reward and punishment, and the concomitant
raising of free will to the level of divine-spiritual achievement, to the world of the souls,
where it reaches its full force and splendor, highlights the low esteem with which free
will is held in this world and the inferiority of the reward and punishment system which
has apparently been placed in Nature's hands. According to Nahmanides divine
providence has not been directly dependant on free will since G-d changed his method for
ruling the world, from the emphasis on free will in the period of the patriarchs to the
emphasis on divine providence in the period of the Exodus from Egypt.
Like Nahmanides, the saintly Or HaHaim also restricts the role of free will; however, he
does this by transferring free will from the province of the good to that of the evil. For, as
it is written, "from the Most High, evil will not come, only good;" "Since from the
wicked ones will come forth the wickedness;" "May your evil rot." In this approach, it is
a sign of G-d's kindness to the righteous that he guides them through divine providence,
while the wicked remain under their own guidance under the aegis of free will. The
principle "Everything is in the hands of heaven except for the fear of heaven" raises the
question of exactly what free choice consists. Is the choice of "fearing heaven" itself
placed in men's hands, or is it only the possibility of rejecting fear of heaven which is
given to man?
Based upon the Or HaHaim's approach we must consider how reward and punishment
function as a basis for G-d's rule given that, in a certain sense, punishment is not meted
out by G-d; rather, it is meted out by man. For it is man's improper behavior,
independent of G-d's intervention, which unleashes retribution. As well, given the Or
HaHaim's approach, we must ask: Pharaoh, having chosen evil, should have lost the
benefit of divine providence so what does the verse mean when it claims that G-d
hardened Pharaoh's heart?
Perhaps, one benefit of following the Or HaHaim's approach is that even though in it
HaKadosh Barukh Hu deals only with good, the fact remains that in weakening Pharoah's
free will he freed him, if the truth be known, from the ability to do evil. But, if so, we
must ask: Why was Pharoah punished with the ten plagues? Firstly, it seems from the Or
HaHaim's writings that Pharoah's original choice to do evil – taken before Hashem took
away his free will – was enough to justify his punishment. And secondly, the Or HaHaim
emphasizes the dual nature of the ten plagues. They were sent not only to educate the
Egyptians but also, and, even more crucially to show the children of Israel G-d's power
over the forces of nature. Thus, although reward and punishment do find their proper
place within the rubric of the ten plagues, the plagues are not to be understood primarily
as retributive at all; rather, their objective lies far above the mundane computation of
reward and punishment.
Translated by
Rabbi Meshulam Gotlieb www.MGtransEd.com
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