The Clash of Eras: Historical Consciousness vs. Theological Absolutism
Musings on the Evolution of Faith in the Age of Enlightenment and Beyond
The intellectual tradition of the Enlightenment introduced several challenges for religion. The most celebrated of these challenges is the alleged conflict between science and religion, between rationalism and faith. There have been many approaches discussed either to reinforce this dichotomy or to reconcile the challenges, from denying religion, to incorporating scientific findings, to doubling down on historical orthodoxies in many fundamentalist communities.
However, there is another major challenge introduced by the Enlightenment which hasn’t received nearly as much attention as it deserves. With this I am referring to the rise of historical consciousness, which has left the theological absolutism of centuries of tradition bruised and battered, with little ground on which to stand. This challenge is two-pronged; it threatens the narratives underlying the great faiths through the historical critical method, and it contextualizes the theological stances of religious communities within a specific sociological epoch and reveals the ever-changing ideas within the traditions themselves.
In the pre-Enlightenment world, there was little awareness of the differences between past and present, and as such, when approaching older texts or traditions they were almost invariably interpreted anachronistically with current presuppositions and paradigms. They were largely oblivious to innovation or evolution in the understanding of religious doctrines, therefore assuming that the cultural climate in which they lived was fairly representative of the way religious concepts were understood in the past.
Aside from the specific historical issues with religious narratives, this historical consciousness has taught us to read ancient texts on their own terms, without presupposing later traditions or norms, which inevitably uncovers an evolution of meaning and interpretation throughout the ages. This threatens both the cultural and the theological norms we hold so dearly, as it shows the relativism of much of what we believe. No longer are our own conceptions eternal unalterable truths, they simply represent the small slice in history which is us, and we can appreciate other perspectives from our own predecessors. Tradition ceases to be authoritative, as it is exposed to be merely a sociological process.
This has historically been very threatening for religious institutions, and they have consistently favored religious orthodoxies, one which was absolutist in nature, which no room for ambiguities. A central narrative was imposed over religious communities, one which transcended time, and was uniform throughout the people. There was one path, straight and narrow, which was the unfiltered will of God, and this was necessarily stagnant.
Why was it so important for religions to maintain these orthodoxies? The answer seems to lie in the conception of revelation, and in the authority of religious tradition. If religion is the revealed Will of the Creator, can there be more than one truth? How can the path be wider to accommodate multiple opinions, if ultimately the only opinion that matters is that of God? Does His Will change from one generation to the next? And if we must forgo the certainty in the will of God, what validity do our religious claims have, if not on revelation? Sure, there is a place for religious thought and scholarship, but even that must have some form of divine approbation if it is to be relied upon, and therefore must be uniform in content as well.
Obviously, it is very difficult to maintain religious orthodoxies across large populations. Who is the arbiter of the Ultimate truth? Generally speaking, there were two common methods to deal with this issue. The first is centralized authority, be it political, religious or otherwise. This took the form of the papacy in Catholicism, to the absolute authority of the Talmud, to the royal edicts of various monarchies or state-sanctioned religions. The second is to concede the human element within religions. This is the place for scholarship, for theologians to express differing opinions on religious issues. Judaism in particular developed an ingenious attitude to understanding this, in which both opinions are true expressions of the Divine Will, (אלו ואלו דברי אלהים חיים). But even that has its theological limits. Some have simply allowed for some room for unclarity, dispute, and possibly even human error within their religious worldview. Following the Protestant Reformation, religions in the West have greatly expanded the room for individual views and lessened the demands of their orthodoxies.
However, this all comes to a grinding halt when it comes to religious evolution. It is simply incompatible with a fundamentalist religious worldview which contains the absolute truth. This is greatly threatened by modern historical analysis and the rise of historical consciousness. Our religious beliefs and theological constructs seem fickler than ever before.
Within many Orthodox Jewish communities, this has led to an even more fervent belief in what is called the Mesorah, and every text from all the generations are interpreted in this light. Tanach has no meaning outside the explanations of Torah Sh’Baal Peh, (aside from when they can be considered drush to allow for pshat as well,) halachic texts are understood to have been referring to the intricate systems of lomdus which developed centuries later, and every hashkafic or aggadic statement of chazal or the rishonim are rooted in the comprehensive systems of machshava and kabbalah of the last few centuries.
However, amongst communities who are more open to academic analysis this has caused a shift in the opposite direction. The systematic learning of Tanach with minimal input from traditional commentaries has been on the rise, Rabbinic texts are studied on their own terms, and halachic responsa are reexamined in the light of their historical context. This has obviously led to a more fluid conception of Torah and Halacha, with countless books emerging espousing modern theologies, various non-traditional ideologies have taken hold within Judaism itself, and halacha itself has been adapted ever so slightly to resonate more strongly with modern sensibilities. They take the liberty to allow modern reinterpretations of older Jewish themes, as this is viewed as a continuation of the process of several millennia. (Obviously this influence is not only in one direction, as communities who are more integrated into modern society are more likely to adapt to their environment and subsequently change their attitude to older texts as well.)
However, the conservative approach seems to have justified attack on this perspective. What is theology if not the truth about the spiritual world, and what is halacha if not the absolute Will of God? How can this possibly be fluid? If physics won’t change from one generation to the next, why should spiritual realities be any different?
This indeed presents a tremendous challenge for these modern approaches. Several models have been put forward, from the Theology of Continuous Revelation, to Neo-Hasidic approaches about the many angles of Judaism, to postmodernist views which relativize theological truths. Some simply ignore the theological difficulty, and continue to explore Judaism as a human civilization, while persistently conflating this civilization with the Divine Torah. Do any of these approaches succeed? I do not know. But it’s not a challenge to be made light of, and perpetually obfuscating this conversation, as many are wont to do, does not help anybody. But then again, theological necessity is no excuse for dishonest historical interpretation, so the conservative position is no more meritorious.
You give the Orthodox world too much credit by saying that they purposefully obfuscate the conversation, within the Yeshiva world this convo is basically just regarded as a non-starter, it is so far outside of the Overton window that it needs no obfuscation, it just never comes up.
Anyways, this has been a maaajor problem for me in accepting traditional interpretations and has led me to take either a post-modernist stance a la R. Shagar or to create what I call post-orthodoxy, where we can (hopefully) live commited Jewish lives without lying to ourselves about the origins of our religion.
Huh. This one isn’t as interesting as your others. Long on superficial generalities, short on details. The general gist of this article is that you have already declared victory on traditionalism because of the brilliance of the Enlightenment, and are gloating about what the “bruised and battered” religious people will do next. This comes along with a smattering of self-serving historical fiction to boost your esteem, along with dishing out strawmen as if they are cocktails. Needless to say, your victory whoop is quite premature as relates to Judaism. The traditionalists are growing by leaps and bounds, and definitely don’t appear bruised and battered. They don’t even know who you are, your scholars are, or your arguments, those primitive benighted knuckleheads. If the traditionalists are bruised and battered, they’re not showing it. There’s no doubt that they will last a lot longer than whatever culture you identify with.
(After reading this, I realize it sounds like it was written by AI. I promise you it wasn’t! I think I was trying to write like literature critic or something, and ended up sounding like AI. But I’m not going to rewrite it.)