Exactly as the clock struck nine, there was a short ring at
the door. "How absolutely appropriate," I thought to myself,
"for someone like him, the chief accountant of a major
corporation." As I got up to open the door, I thought about
how this man came into my life.
A friend of mine — a businessman — told me about
this Jew (actually his name is Robert) who used every
business contact with him to ask searching questions about
Judaism. My friend was not always able to answer Robert's
questions and so, with my consent, he sent Robert to me. Now,
here he was — at exactly the time we had arranged.
As I opened the door wide, I found myself face to face with
an intellectual-looking man of immaculate manicure and
bearing. On his head was a yarmulke whose creases
showed that it spent most of its time in his pocket. As I
ushered him into an inner room, I noticed him furtively
fingering one of the leaves of a large potted plant sitting
next to the door.
After light refreshments and the exchange of pleasantries,
and in order to get to know him better, I asked Robert to
tell me about himself. He described his interest in Judaism
and his feeling that it contained profound wisdom from which
he had much to learn.
"Our people," he said, "had many very intelligent men. In the
course of the thousands of years of our tradition, we have
aggregated a tremendous amount of wisdom. It would be a shame
to neglect it. I have a tremendous respect for religious
people, because I know that they study and preserve this
wonderful and important collection of wisdom."
Although I smiled in thanks at Robert's kind words toward
religious Jews, in truth I was far from being taken with
them. I once heard that the Zohar says that the Dor
Hamabul loved Torah and wisdom, yet that did not stop them
from being the Dor Hamabul. If Robert was interested in our
Torah for wisdom's sake alone, then, after three hours of
questions from him and answers from me, the man would get up
to go home and thank me profusely for broadening his
knowledge of Judaism. But he, himself would go out the same
person he came in — albeit with somewhat more
knowledge. I thought to myself, "Must I give up an evening of
my life for the sole purpose of sating someone's intellectual
curiosity?"
With this thought in mind I responded, "There is authentic
wisdom to be found among the non-Jews, too. There were
thinkers and philosophers of great renown among the various
ancient civilizations, who disseminated learned teachings in
the seven disciplines current in those times. In this respect
the goyim, too, have much to be proud of.
At this, my interlocutor, Robert, appeared greatly surprised.
He turned to me in amazement, "Are you saying that there is
nothing truly unique about our wisdom? Dare I believe my ears
— that you, of all people, would say such a thing?"
"No, our Chachomim are doubtlessly unique. However,
their uniqueness lies primarily in their unrivaled quest for
the truth."
At this point Robert broke in, "Pardon me, but are you
implying that all the teachings bequeathed by the
goyish thinkers are false, and that of our
Chachomim alone are Truths? Nobody — but nobody
— has a monopoly on Truth!
Rather than reply immediately, I took a sustained pause.
This, thankfully, had a calming effect on the atmosphere.
"Look," I went on gently, "the concept called Truth actually
has many, widely diverging, meanings. If one postulates that
it is now nighttime, his statement — however true
— has no ramification at all pertaining to his personal
self. It is nothing more than an external type of truth, as
it does not at all penetrate to the heart of a person, nor
does it obligate him in any respect.
"Any scientist, any person involved in the world of
intellect, is well acquainted with this type of truth. Small
wonder is it, then, that their work in their respective
professions is entirely distinct from themselves as
individuals and from their private psyche. Take, for example,
a plumber discovering the source of a leak, a microbiologist
in pursuit of a suitable vaccination for a given virus, or
say, a metalurgist gauging the proper temperature for melting
a specific metal. For all these problem solvers, the
problems' final resolution surely is without ramification to
their personal psyche. Please ponder this carefully,
Robert.
"In direct contrast to all this, when I talk of our
Chachomim's truth and of their engaging all their
erudition in its quest, I refer to a truth which make deep
roots in one's very heart and soul, a truth bearing directly
on the purpose of life itself and on man's very existence; a
truth which endows its beholder with a newfound meaning to
his every action; a truth, in sum, that is heavy with
commitment and responsibility.
"The revelation of this Truth effects a transcendent
transformation in one's whole world outlook and, thus,
engulfs him forever, in even the most minute respects.
"It is this Beacon of Light that epitomizes the core defining
difference between our Chachomim and the Greek
philosophers of old. A clear example of this can be seen in
the radical contrast in mankind's state up until Terach the
idol worshiper versus that of his son, Abraham, the patriarch
of our eternal Jewish nation.
"Our Chachomim's gifts of compelling intellect and
exalted wisdom, formidable though they were, were employed as
merely a tool to the end goal of which was, from the first,
that of reaching our great and wonderful Truth. It is our
Chachomim's pursuit of this pure and ultimate truth
which casts them in such sharp contrast to all the goyim
— their great thinkers and legendary philosophers
included."
"You talk of a truth which penetrates the very fiber of man's
heart and soul," said Robert, in effect repeating my words.
"But all this is incomprehensible to me. Excuse me, if you
must, but your words ring of hyperbole."
Fixing him with a stern expression I asked him slowly, "Why
were you, upon your arrival, furtively fingering that potted
plant here?"
An embarrassed smile creased Robert's face. "Ah . . . that? I
. . . only wanted to see whether it was a plastic plant," he
stuttered. "You see, I despise them. I simply can not
tolerate them. The state of the art has advanced to the point
where one can hardly tell the imitation from the real thing.
I feel a revulsion toward any house that displays them. When
you really get down to it, they're an act of virtual
trickery.
"Indeed, just several days ago I took my wife to the jewelry
store for a tenth anniversary gift. The salesman suggested a
stunning diamond-encrusted pendant, and for a most reasonable
price at that. However, upon hearing that the diamond was an
imitation, my wife wouldn't give it a second look. The
salesman then tried explaining to her that the imitation was
so close to the real thing that only a highly trained
professional using refined instruments could distinguish
them. However — to my woe — all his persuasions
failed to budge her. `I hate falsehood,' she exclaimed. And,
by the way, I too am of this general mentality and therefore
respected her for her opinion. We're dealing here with a
deeply-held sensibility."
"Excellent," I replied with a broad smile. "You've just made
my whole point for me. I couldn't myself have put it better.
While owning a work that is an imitation is, of course, not a
crime, it is refreshing to find people such as yourself with
a sense of right and wrong so acute as to include antipathy
toward even such relatively trivial wrongs as those you've
just described.
"Our Sages' entire life work was devoted to the task of
uncovering the Truth of life to its fullest extent: that the
universe has a Lord, G-d Almighty Who created all, and Who
laid out for us with precision how we should conduct
ourselves.
"Indeed, the greatest possible lie, the mother of all lies,
is the denial of our Truth. What a tremendous revulsion ought
to be aroused in a man such as yourself toward the frightful
lie of denying a G-d Who provides us with all our needs! What
a feeling of disgust ought you to have toward the ingratitude
and false pretension of those who claim freedom of all
obligation from a G-d Who granted us the most precious of all
gifts — the gift of life itself?
"How great a feeling of respect should we then have towards
those who devote their entire life to the quest for this
ultimate truth and to its further edification.
"This itself has been the quintessential characteristic of
our sages through all the generations. It is for this pursuit
that they have given their life's blood. Far be it from them
to have done so for the mere sake of acquiring knowledge.
Only in order to get to the bottom of it all, to discover the
all pervasive truth; the purpose of man's very existence, did
they expend such superhuman effort.
"Accordingly, what could be more disgraceful than the
behavior of he who delves into the Torah for intellectual
stimulation alone — when from this very Torah flows the
deepest of obligations both to our Creator and to our own
inner conscience!"