Micah Goodman is the author of four best-selling books in Israel including Maimonides and the Book That Changed Judaism. He is president of Beit Midrash Yisraeli–Ein Prat, and a senior fellow at the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem.
In the mid-late twentieth century, Rav Kook's writings were profoundly influential on the religious Zionist community in Israel but relatively unknown to Jews outside of Israel. By contrast, Rav Soloveitchik was a towering figure for Modern Orthodox Jews outside of Israel but almost unknown in Israel. Contemporary Orthodox Jewry both in Israel and abroad no longer has figures whose presence is so dominant, but despite instantaneous global communication the gaps between Israeli Jewry and Diaspora Jewry abound. Anyone doubting the above assertion should ask themselves if they know who Micha Goodman is. For many Israelis across a broad spectrum of observance he is a phenomenon. When Micha Goodman speaks people listen; every lecture he gives is packed and his books are extremely popular. Micha understands contemporary Israelis, what interests and motivates them, and how to connect them to Jewish sources in ways which resonate deeply. The pre-army learning program he runs in Ein Perat is a groundbreaking institution in which secular and religious Israelis mix in a year of Torah study focused on grappling with and applying their learning in finding meaning for contemporary Israeli life. The son of American immigrants he is fluent in English, but his heart and soul speak the language of Israel. Micha's latest book, Moses' Final Oration [Hebrew] (Dvir, 2014) provides an excellent platform for demonstrating how contemporary Israelis relate to Torah. The book begins with an assumption which has far-reaching implications – Sefer Devarim was written by Moshe and bears the direct imprint of Moshe's agenda. That does not mean to imply that the book has less divinity than the other four sefarim in Humash, and there is an extensive discussion of various Torah authorities through the ages who formulated similar ideas (for example, that he ideas are Moshe's but the inclusion of Devarim in the canon of Humash is a sign of Divine approval). Nonetheless, the extent to which this book takes the idea far exceeds anything traditional Jewish writers have expressed heretofore. In a nutshell, Goodman examines the formulation of ideas in Devarim looking for what makes it unique. That includes comparing Devarim to the other sefarim in Humash to see what it includes that is missing from the other sefarim, what is missing which the other sefarim include, and what is different in the formulation. His conclusion is startling – that Moshe has an agenda to transform, moderate, reimagine, refocus, and reshape some of the fundamental concepts which mark the earlier sefarim. Put differently, Devarim stands in mahloket with Shemot, Vayikra, and Bemidbar Sinai. In broad strokes, the book marshals evidence to demonstrate that Moshe planned two revolutions. One, that the locus of Divine worship should shift from the mikdash to the individual and from sacrifices to prayer, moves that were eventually were necessitated by the destruction of the Second Temple a thousand years later. Two, that power needs to be decentralized, to the extent that power is stripped of kings (or central political figures) and given to the citizenry. In other words, Moshe’s concerns for the future of the nation impel him to imagine a mikdash devoid of God and politicians devoid of power. I will leave the details of these two assertions – some of which are quite startling – to for readers to find for themselves in Goodman’s book. The strength of the arguments in this book comes from Goodman’s ability to stand back and see themes emerging from multiple disparate points. This “meta” vision is bolstered by Goodman’s grounding in philosophy, which, as he self-identifies, is the starting point for his read of Devarim. As is often the problem with the big-picture vision, once the overarching message is determined or decided, many details and nuances emerging from a close reading are overlooked, or worse, brushed under the rug when they do not support the central thesis. (This may reflect a historical trend in exegesis. Many of the early commentaries – who did focus on the minutiae, seem to have overlooked or ignored the bigger picture while the converse is true for contemporary commentaries.) As such, there are many places in this book where I, as a reader who usually sees himself as paying close attention to details, found myself questioning the exegesis of particular passages. I also found myself often questioning some of the book’s conclusions (for example, did Moshe “invent” the legislation in Devarim) while simultaneously marveling at some of its insights (e.g., that Moshe’s version of the tokhehah invokes the plagues in Egypt). Despite my misgivings about some of the details, the arguments put forward gave lots of food for thought, and that – at least for me – makes the book extremely worthwhile. Goodman's message resonates with contemporary Israelis who regularly grapple with questions of centralized authority, whether religious or political, and the ethics of power. Jews in Israel are the majority, raising significant ethical questions for many about the rights of minorities and the pitfalls of power. These are questions which Diaspora Jews generally do not struggle with, and if they do, they are usually more of a theoretical kind of philosophical struggle rather than those which affect how they vote, what they demonstrate for, where they live and school their children, how to relate to non-Jewish minorities living/working in Israel, labor practices, and much more. Similarly, the questions of religion are more burning for Israelis who must encounter formal authority invested in state-appointed Rabbinic functionaries (the entire institution of the Rabbinate is highly politicized) who impact on areas as diverse as marriage, divorce, personal status, and army service, and who as a result of their experience and outlook, are increasingly creating religiously observant communities and prayer-communities in which they explicitly do not want rabbinic leadership. The religious questions also impact on political decisions – is the dreamed of utopian future in the realm of regaining and retaining Biblical lands and rebuilding a Temple, or is that future in building a society guided by religious/ethical principles. Again, these questions are not just theoretical, but impact on daily decisions for citizens and leaders alike as the Torah is seen no only as a set of instructions for creating a personally, religiously purposeful life but as a sort of constitutional document for informing a national identity. Given the differences between Israeli and Diaspora Jewry I would be surprised if an English translation of this book will ever appear. Not only would the book likely not resonate with Diaspora Jews and their concerns, many Orthodox Jews and their religious leaders will be disturbed by Goodman's approach, his thesis, and implications. That, to me, would be an unfortunate casualty of the tendency in Orthodox circles to circle the wagons. Regardless of whether one agrees or disagrees with the book's thesis or conclusions, it could provide an excellent springboard for discussions, both about the Torah and about the growing divide between Israeli and Diaspora Jewry. Jews who deeply care about creating connections with Israel in meaningful kinds of ways could use the material here as a way of gaining insight into contemporary Israeli society and what animates it.
נקודת מבט שונה לאותו הספר מתוקפת התיכון. אם אז, היינו תמימים (ולעתים, לא ממש רצינו לקרוא בו כי היינו צעירים ותמימים או שמא, היינו טיפשים...), בחלוף השנים, תמיד מעניין לקרוא ממנו חלקים ולראות את הדברים בראיה קצת שונה, מפוקחת ומלומדת וכך, גם לגלות דברים חדשים שלא ראינו וכן, להיזכר בדברים ששכחנו.
לטעמי, הספר היה פילוסופי מידי ומידי פעם הרגשתי שאני הולך לאיבוד בו.