Seeing nods from both, Bento continued. “Similarly, in Genesis. Let’s consider this passage.” Bento turned to another page marked with a red thread and read the Hebrew passage for Jacob: “and the Canaanite was then in the land.” Now that passage could not have been written by Moses because the Canaanite were driven out after the death of Moses. It has to have been written by someone else looking back upon that time, someone who knew that the Canaanite had been driven out.”
After nods from his audience, Bento went on, “Here’s another obvious problem. Moses is supposed to be the author, and yet the text not only speaks of Moses in the third person but also bears witness to many details concerning him; for instance, ‘Moses talked with God’; ‘Moses was the meekest of men’; and that passage I cited yesterday, ‘The Lord spoke with Moses face to face.’”
“This is what I mean by internal inconsistencies. The Torah is so crammed with them that it is clearer than the sun at noontime that the books of Moses could not have been written by Moses, and it is irrational to continue claiming Moses himself was the author. Do you follow my argument?”
Again Franco and Jacob nodded.
“The same can be said for the book of Judges. No one can possibly believe that each judge wrote the book bearing his name. The way the several books are connected one with the other suggests that they all have the same author.
“If so, then who wrote it, and when?” asked Jacob.
“The dating is helped by such statements as this”—he turned to a page in Kings for Jacob to read—“‘In those days there was no king.’ You see the wording, Jacob? That means this passage had to be written after a kingship was established. My best guess is that a major writer-compiler of the book of Kings was Ibn Ezra.”
“Who is he?” asked Jacob.
“A priestly scribe who lived in the fifth century BC. He was the one who led five thousand Hebrew exiles from Babylon back to their home city of Jerusalem.”
“And when was the entire Bible compiled?” asked Franco.
“I think we can be certain that before the time of the Maccabees—that is, around 200 BC—there was no official collection of sacred books called the Bible. It seems to have been compiled from a multitude of documents by the Pharisees at the time of the restoration of the Temple. So please keep in mind that what is holy and what is not holy is merely the collected opinion of some very human rabbis and scribes, some of whom were serious-minded, blessed men while others may have been struggling for their own personal status, battling upstarts in their own congregation, getting hunger pangs, thinking about dinner, and worrying about their wives and children. The Bible was put together by human hands. There is no other possible explanation for the many inconsistencies. No rational person could imagine that a divine omniscient author deliberately wrote with the object of contradicting himself freely.”
Jacob, looking confounded, attempted a parry. “Not necessarily. Are there not learned Kabbalists who suggest that the Torah contains deliberate errors that contain many hidden secrets and that God has preserved from corruption every word, indeed every letter, of the Bible?”
Bento nodded. “I have studied the Kabbalists and believe they wish to establish that they alone possess the secrets of God. I find in their writings nothing that has the air of a divine secret, but instead only childish lucubrations. I wish us to examine the words of the Torah itself, not the interpretation of triflers.”
After a brief silence he asked, “Have I now made clear to you my thoughts about the authorship of the scriptures?”
“That you have,” said Jacob. “Perhaps we should move on to other topics. For example, please address Franco’s questions about miracles. He asked why the Bible is replete with them and yet there are none to be seen since then. Tell us your thoughts about miracles.”
“Miracles exist only through man’s ignorance. In ancient times any occurrence that could not be explained through natural causes was considered a miracle, and the greater the ignorance of the masses about the workings of Nature, the greater the number of miracles.”
“But there are great miracles that were seen by multitudes: the Red Sea parting for Moses, the sun staying still for Joshua.”
“‘Seen by multitudes’ is solely a manner of speaking, a way of trying to claim the veracity of unbelievable events. In the case of miracles I am of the opinion that the larger the multitude that claimed to have seen it, the less believable is the event.”
“Then how can you explain these unusual events that happen at precisely the right moment, when the Jewish people were in peril?”
“I’ll start by reminding you of the millions of precisely right moments when miracles do not occur, when the most pious and righteous of individuals are greatly imperiled, cry out for help, and are answered only with silence. Franco, you spoke of that at our very first meeting, when you asked where were the miracles when your father was burned to death. Right?”
“Yes,” Franco agreed softly, glancing at Jacob. “I said that, and I say it again—where were the miracles when the Portuguese Jews were in peril? Why was God silent?”
“Such questions should be asked,” encouraged Bento. “Let me offer a few further thoughts about miracles. We must keep in mind that there are always attendant natural circumstances that are omitted in miracle reporting. For example, Exodus tells us, ‘Moses stretched forth his hand and the seas returned to their strength . . .’ but later in the song of Moses, we read additional material: ‘Thou didst blow with thy wind and the sea covered them.’ In other words, some descriptions omit the natural causes, the winds. Thus, we see that the scriptures narrate them in the order that has the most power to move men, particularly uneducated men, to devotion.”
“And the sun stood still for Joshua’s great victory? That too was fiction?” asked Jacob, straining to remain calm.
“That miracle is most wobbly. First, remember that the ancients all believed the sun moved and the Earth stood still. We know now that it is the Earth that revolves around the sun. That error itself is evidence of the human hands behind the Bible’s construction. What’s more, the particular form of the miracle was shaped by political motivations. Was not the sun god worshipped by the enemies of Joshua? Hence, the miracle is a message trumpeting that the Hebrews’ God was more powerful than the Gentiles’ God.”
“That is wonderfully explained,” said Franco.
“Don’t believe everything you hear from him, Franco,” said Jacob. “So, Bento,” he asked, “is that the whole explanation of the miracle in Joshua?”
“That’s only part. The rest of the explanation lies in the idioms of the day. Many so-called miracles are only manners of expression. It’s the way people talked and wrote in those times. What the writer of Joshua probably meant when he said the sun stood still was simply that the day of the battle seemed long. When the Bible states that God hardened Pharaoh’s heart, it only means that Pharaoh was obstinate. When it says that God clave the rocks for the Hebrews and water gushed forth, it merely meant that the Hebrews found springs and quenched their thirst. In the scriptures almost anything unusual was attributed to an act of God. Even trees of unusual size are called trees of God.”
“And,” Jacob asked, “what about the miracle of the Jews surviving whereas the other nations have not?”
“I see nothing miraculous in it, nothing that cannot be explained by natural causes. The Jews have survived since the Diaspora because they have always refused to blend in with other cultures. They have remained separate by virtue of their complex rites, their dietary rules, and the sign of circumcision, which they scrupulously observe. Thus they survive, but at a cost: their stubborn adherence to separateness has drawn down upon them universal hatred.”
Bento paused and, seeing the shocked faces of both Franco and Jacob, said, “Perhaps I give you indigestion by serving up too many difficult things for you to swallow today?”
“Do not worry about me, Bento Spinoza,” said Jacob. “Surely you know that liste
ning is not the same as swallowing,”
“I may be mistaken, but I believe you nodded at least thrice to my words. Am I correct?”
“Most of what I hear is arrogance. You believe you know more than countless generations of rabbis, more than Rashi, Gersonides, more than Maimonides.”
“Yet you nodded.”
“When you show evidence, when you show two statements in Genesis that contradict one another, that I cannot deny. Yet, even so, I am certain there are explanations for that beyond your knowledge. I am certain it is you, not the Torah, that is mistaken.”
“Is there no contradiction in your words? On the one hand you respect evidence and at the same time remain certain of something for which there is no evidence.” Bento turned to Franco. “And you? You have been unusually silent. Indigestion?”
“No, no indigestion, Baruch—do you mind my calling you by your Hebrew rather than your Portuguese name? I prefer it. I don’t know why. Perhaps it is because you are unlike any Portuguese man I ever saw. No indigestion—you give me the reverse. What would that be? Soothing, I think. Stomach soothing. Soul soothing too.”
“I remember how frightened you were during our first talk. You risked so much by sharing your reaction to rituals in both the synagogue and the cathedral. You referred to them both as madness. You remember?”
“How could I forget? But to know that I am not alone, to know that others—especially you—share them. That is a gift that saves my sanity.”
“Franco, your answer gives me the fortitude to go further and teach you more about ritual. I have reached the conclusion that rituals of our community have nothing to do with divine law, nothing to do with blessedness and virtue and love, and everything to do with civic tranquility and perpetuation of rabbinical authority—”
“Once again,” Jacob interrupted, his voice rising, “you go too far. Is there no limit to your arrogance? A schoolchild knows that the scriptures teach that observation of ritual is the law of God.”
“We disagree. Again, Jacob, I do not ask you to believe me. I appeal to your reason and simply ask you to look at the words of the Holy Book with your own eyes. There are many places in the Torah that tell us to follow your heart and not take ritual too seriously. Let us look at Isaiah, who teaches most plainly that the divine law signifies a true manner of life, not a life of ceremonial observances. Isaiah plainly tells us to forego sacrifices and feasts and sums up the whole of divine law in these simple words”—Bento opened the Bible to a bookmark in Isaiah and read—“Cease to do evil, learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed.”
“So you’re saying that rabbinical law is not the Torah’s law?” asked Franco.
“What I’m saying is that the Torah contains two kinds of law: there is moral law, and there are laws designed to keep Israel together as a theocracy separate from its neighbors. Unfortunately the Pharisees, in their ignorance, failed to understand the difference and thought that the observance of the state laws was the sum total of morality, whereas such laws were merely intended for the welfare of the community. They were not meant to instruct the Jews but instead to keep them under control. There is a fundamental difference in the purpose of each of the two kinds of laws: observation of ceremonial law leads only to civic tranquility, whereas observation of divine or moral law leads to blessedness.”
“So,” said Jacob, “do I hear correctly? Do you counsel Franco not to heed ceremonial law? Not to attend the synagogue, not to pray, not to observe Jewish dietary laws?”
“You misunderstand me,” said Bento, drawing on his recently acquired knowledge of the views of Epicurus. “I do not negate the importance of civic tranquility, but I do differentiate it from true blessedness.” Bento turned to Franco. “If you love your community, wish to be a part of it, wish to raise your family here, wish to live among your own, then you must participate agreeably in community activities, including religious observances.”
Turning back to Jacob, he asked, “Can I be more clear?”
“I hear that you say we should follow ritual law only for the sake of appearances, and that it really doesn’t count for much because the only thing that matters is this other divine law that you still have not defined,” said Jacob.
“By divine law, I mean the highest good, the true knowledge of God and love.”
“That’s a vague answer. What is ‘true knowledge’?”
“True knowledge means the perfection of our intellect that permits us to know God more fully. Jewish communities have penalties for failing to follow ritual law: public criticism by the congregation and the rabbi or, in extreme instances, banishment or cherem. Is there a penalty for failing to follow divine law? Yes, but it is not some particular punishment; it is the absence of the good. I love the words of Solomon, who says, ‘When wisdom enters into your heart and knowledge is pleasant to thy soul, then shalt thou understand righteousness, and judgment, and equity, yea, every good path.’”
Jacob shook his head. “These high-sounding phrases do not conceal the fact that you are challenging basic Jewish law. Maimonides himself teaches that those who follow the commandments of the Torah are rewarded by God with bliss and happiness in the world to come. With my own ears, I have heard Rabbi Mortera himself emphatically declare anyone who denies the divinity of the Torah will be cut off from immortal life with God.”
“And I say his phrases—‘the world to come’ and ‘immortal life with God’—are human words, not divine words. Moreover, these words are not to be found in the Torah; they are the phrases of rabbis writing commentaries on commentaries.”
“So,” insisted Jacob, “do I hear you deny the existence of the world to come?”
“The world to come, immortal life, blissful afterlife—I repeat, all such phrases are the inventions of rabbis.”
“You deny,” Jacob persisted, “that the righteous will find everlasting joy and communion with God and that the evil will be vilified and doomed to eternal punishment?”
“It is against reason to think that we, as we are today, will persist after death. The body and the mind are two aspects of the same person. The mind cannot persist after the body dies.”
“But,” Jacob spoke loudly, now visibly agitated, “we know the body will be resurrected. All of our rabbis teach us that. Maimonides stated this clearly. It is one of the thirteen articles of Jewish faith. It is the ground of our faith.”
“Jacob, I must be a poor guide. I thought I had fully explained the impossibility of such things, yet now you’re once more wandering into the land of miracles. Again, I remind you these are all human opinions; they have nothing to do with the laws of Nature, and nothing can occur contrary to the fixed laws of Nature. Nature, which is infinite and eternal and encompasses all substance in the universe, acts according to orderly laws that cannot be superseded by supernatural means. A decayed body, returned to dust, cannot be reassembled. Genesis tells us this most clearly: ‘You will eat your bread until you return to the earth, from which you were taken, because earth you are and to earth you shall return.’”
“Does that mean I will never be reunited with my martyred father?” asked Franco.
“I, like you, yearn to see my blessed father again. But the laws of Nature are what they are. Franco, I share your longing, and when I was a child, I too believed that all time would come to an end and someday after death we should be reunited—I with my father and my mother, even though I was so young when she died that I can hardly remember her. And of course they would be reunited with their parents and they with theirs, ad infinitum.”
“But now,” Bento continued in a soft, teacherly voice, “I have given up these childish hopes and have replaced them by the certain knowledge that I hold my father inside me—his face, his love, his wisdom—and in this manner I am already united with him. Blessed reunion must occur in this life because this life is all we have. There is no eternal blessedness in the world to come because there is no world to come. Our task, and I believe the Torah teaches us
this, is to attain blessedness in this life now by living a life of love and of learning to know God. True piety consists in justice, charity, and love of one’s neighbor.”
Jacob stood and gruffly pushed his chair aside. “Enough! I’ve heard enough heresy for one day. Enough for one lifetime. We’re leaving. Let’s go, Franco.”
As Jacob grabbed Franco’s hand, Bento said, “No, not yet. Jacob, there’s one remaining important question that, to my surprise, you have neglected to ask.”
Jacob let go of Franco’s arm and looked warily at Bento. “What question?”
“I have told you that Nature is eternal, infinite, and encompasses all substance.”
“Yes?” Jacob’s face was furrowed and quizzical. “What question?”
“And have I not told you that God is eternal, infinite, and encompasses all substance?”
Jacob nodded, entirely bewildered.
“You say you have been listening, you say you have heard enough, but yet you have not asked me the most fundamental question.”
“What fundamental question?”
“If God and Nature have the identical properties, then what is the difference between God and Nature?”
“All right,” said Jacob. “I ask you: what is the difference between God and Nature?”
“And I give you the answer you already know: there is no difference. God is Nature. Nature is God.”
Both Jacob and Franco stared at Bento, and without another word Jacob yanked Franco to his feet and dragged him into the street.
When out of sight, Jacob put his arm around Franco and squeezed him. “Good, good, Franco, we got just exactly what we needed out of him. And you regarded him a wise man? What a fool he is!”