Monday, December 30, 2013

Maimon, The Outcast

I'm continuing to learn as I make my way through books about Maimonides.  As I said, he can't win.  He was too smart, too unique, too out of step with the Jews, too definite and without compromise.  He threatened too many people; and the traditional Kabbalistic/Ashkenazic/Gaonic ways of life were against him.  He wanted for the Jews, what the Jews didn't want. His intentions were the best--for the glory of Hashem (God), and "all Israel."  However, "all Israel" wasn't on the bandwagon with him.

One of his fundamental goals was to organize and settle the totality of age-old Talmudic dissension, controversy, and dispute, henceforth and forever more; essentially, he wanted to separate the wheat from the chaff, deleting argument from Jewish law (halacha); he wanted the Jewish world to be able to cleanly and easily grasp the crux of the law without having to stumble and meander through all the arguments preceding it.  The Jews, however, problematic and divisive to the core, had to argue with someone, so they disputed Maimon instead of Talmud--exactly what he was trying to eradicate!!!

The Jews needed to stick with what they knew--Talmud the old-fashioned way; a "mishmash" of debate. Interestingly, the Jews accepted Judah ha Nasi and his Mishneh; they accepted Joseph Karo and the Shulchan Aruch (Set Table--rules of behavior).  But when Maimon came along in between the two, isolated there in the southern Sephardic/assimilated Graeco-Roman-Moslem world, it was a "Thanks but no thanks."  Maimon was perceived as being too radical.

I love Maimonides.  I understand why he wasn't accepted.  I respect that.  He wasn't wrong; he was different.  He was writing for "the Bunch," and at the same time, he wasn't one of them.  Remember about community--how one has to fall in line.  How community keeps one in line if one falls out, or ultimately rejects him, altogether.  Snius, snius--(Modesty, modesty: Humility). 

That's the answer.  Right there.  Maimon didn't fit the mold.  It wasn't that he was arrogant, or mean, or anything that was a negative.  He was just different, and too bright to know or reckon with how deeply his work and persona impacted others.  He was aware of others' disdain regarding him, and their arguments concerning his dedication to rational discourse. Yet, he hoped that in time--the future--Jewish perspective no longer would be personally directed at him, and objectively would swing toward his way of thinking, instead. It did not.

His was THE greatest mind during all of the Middle Ages (not just amidst the Jews, but everyone)--on a par with Einstein, easily; albeit much better rounded than an Einstein.  Maimonides was a freak, an outcast; too brilliant for the masses--even the educated masses--to grasp. Astounding man.

The truth is, the Jews didn't want him because his expediency, clarity, and organization of thought threatened their established, dithering ways. Maimon, in his zeal for codification and rationalism, was about more than just regimenting the Talmud and Jewish law.  Ironically, and Jewishly, he was about unraveling the "Jewish mind" without realizing it.  He wanted a kind of linear thinking, in a Jewish world that was ponderously circular in ideology and thought. Essentially, he wanted the Jews to think like the Greeks: they were not able, as they were Jews.  There is a fundamental difference between the two cultures in terms of mindset.  This is one element that Maimonides was unable to grasp, in my opinion; quite possibly because he was Jewish, himself.

Perhaps, one could say the Greek mind was about, "either this or that." The Jew is about, "Well, maybe a little this and maybe a little that; but then again, maybe not..."   For the Greek, everything has to add up mathematically; for the Jew, there are always two possibilities; unless there is need for one more.

Alas, Aristotle and Maimon, of the crisp and decisive Greek mentality, must have had fits regarding such willy nilly back and forth discussions and debates.

Thus, Maimon became read and studied as a Jewish philosopher, and a commentator on Jewish law.  His effort to re-write and define the Talmud, was acknowledged, but not rendered authoritative. A first-rate second-stringer at best, others were studied long before him--if he is studied at all. He ran rings around every single Jewish scholar who ever lived.  Even now. But it didn't matter.  He wasn't part of the Bunch.  And that, in Judaism as with all tribes, is the bottom line.

I read about him with tears in my eyes.  It is so hard to be different.  It really is very lonely at the top...

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