By Rabbi Dovid Markel

I recently read a book by an individual articulating the story of his departure from Judaism due to his foray into rationalism and his search for conclusive proofs for the truth of religion. When he realized that his queries could not be answered rationally he abandoned the religion of his youth to live an atheistic lifestyle. While many a religious individual may conclude that the reason this fellow did not discover ultimate truth is because he did not truly search long or hard enough in the proper places, in actuality there is an essential problem in trying to discover G-d solely through the use of logic—in that the more one studies the subject of G-d, the more elusive G-d becomes.

Although this article is not meant to be a response to the particular author of the above book, it can perhaps serve as a factor that one should keep in mind when embarking on a similar intellectual journey.

This may be appreciated through the famous aphorism originally expressed in the work Bechinot Olam that, “The epitome of knowledge is that we cannot know You.” What this means is not merely that after copious study one will eventually come to the realization that G-d cannot be understood, but rather that the nature of knowledge itself is that just as it expands the breadth of one’s knowledge, it also expands one’s cognizance of his lack of understanding.

This point can be appreciated through the allegory of a point that expands into a circle. As the circle expands, its circumference expands as well. Conceptually, each individual begins as a point; not only does an infant not know anything, but he has nothing to ask about. As a child grows, and his knowledge expands, he begins to ask about more and more things and as he amasses a greater and greater knowledge base, the details he asks and wonders about become more complex and sophisticated. The more one knows, the more questions he has. This is so much so, that a person with the greatest knowledge will be faced with the realization that in truth he knows nothing at all.

When one approaches G-d through the medium of logic and philosophy, what he essentially is expressing is his desire to grasp the infinite. However, his mind is finite and what he quickly comes to realize is that the more he discovers, the more he has what to wonder about, as each answer elicits at least one more question. The deeper the answer, the deeper the questions that follows, until the ultimate answer evokes the ultimate unanswerable question.

The Talmud (Chagiga 14b) records the episode of the four Tannaitic sages who entered the supernal Pardes. In Rambam’s conception (Yesodei HaTorah, 4:20-21) the supernal imagery the viewer experiences in his the “walk in the garden” is meant metaphorically. Rather than a spiritual visionary experience, in his conception the Pardes experience involves the intellectual pursuit of the sciences and philosophies with the express intent of appreciating G-d and His creation. As such, the imagery and warnings issued about this experience are to be understood allegorically, rather than literally.

The Talmud expresses the Pardes experience as follows:

“Our Rabbis taught: Four men entered the ‘Pardes’, namely, Ben ‘Azzai and Ben Zoma, Acher, and R. Akiva. R. Akiva said to them: When you arrive at the stones of pure marble, do not say, water, water! For it is said: ‘He that speaks falsehood shall not be established before my eyes’. Ben ‘Azzai glanced and died. About him Scripture states, ‘Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints’. Ben Zoma looked and lost his mind. About him Scripture states, ‘Have you found honey? Eat as much as is enough for you, lest you be filled with it and vomit it out. Acher detached the shoots, whereas R. Akiva departed in peace.”

R. Akiva’s only cautionary statement was not to call out “water, water”. Obviously, this advice was not meant merely as a suggestion, but was indicative of an essential pitfall inherent upon entering Pardes.

Predicated upon Rambam’s understanding that what the Talmud discusses here is a conceptual warning to those engaged in rational, philosophical pursuit, rather than a warning about actual imagery envisioned by those who enter the Pardes, this statement is understood in the figurative sense.

Whereas rational philosophy can be a tool for understanding G-dliness, one must realize that the rational mind is susceptible to heresy. “When you arrive at the stones of pure marble, do not say, water, water.” This seemingly ambiguous statement contains the most crucial cautionary advice for anyone engaging in a rational approach to G-d.

A person should always to keep in mind that G-d is One and that any perception to the contrary is an erroneous illusion. During rational thought, each answer elicits a deeper and stronger question. This being the case, he who possesses the deepest understanding of G-dliness and Judaism will concurrently be confronted and with the strongest questions that border on heresy—and if he is not careful, he is liable to err. To avoid this, he must realize that although he may be confronted with what on the surface seems to express duality and multiplicity, in reality only a singular unity exists. What seems to be the “two waters” of multiplicity, in reality is the expression of the singular, indivisible G-d.

The Talmud explains Acher’s path into heresy in that he was faced with the ultimate question of duality: “He saw that permission was granted to Metatron to sit and write down the merits of Israel. He said, ‘It is taught as a tradition that on high there is no sitting…Perhaps, — God forfend! — there are two divinities!” He was bothered by the proposition that the angels—and by extension the energy of the world—seemed to work independent from G-d, in that Metatron sat instead of being in awe of G-d.

The way to circumvent this tragic error is to keep in mind that, “The epitome of knowledge is that we cannot know You.” When we realize from the onset that the nature of intellectual inquiry is that just as it elicits answers it likewise generates questions and doubts, this protects us from falling into the error of assuming that the question constitutes the answer. Instead, we must press on for the clarification, by realizing that ultimately there is unity rather than duality and multiplicity.

It was specifically because R. Akiva was entirely focused on the Oneness of G-d that he did not err and, “departed in peace.” This is expressed in the Talmud’s (Berachot 61b) statement concerning R. Akiva’s death: “When R. Akiva was taken out for execution it was the hour for the recital of the Shema’, and while they combed his flesh with iron combs, he was accepting the Kingship of Heaven upon himself. His disciples said to him, ‘Our teacher, even to this point?’ He said to them, “All my days I have been troubled by this verse, ‘with all your soul’, [which I interpret,] ‘even if He takes your soul’. I said, ‘When shall I have the opportunity of fulfilling this?’ Now that I have the opportunity shall I not fulfil it?” He prolonged the word echad (One). Due to the fact that he was never distracted from the essential unity of G-d, he was not swayed by the mirage of duality when entering Pardes.

This focal difference is aptly explained by the 5th Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Shalom DovBer (Torath Shalom, pg. 244):

“The difference between Rambam and Aristotle was that Rambam placed the point in the middle first and then drew the circle. Aristotle, however, drew the circle and then searched for the point. Therefore, with Rambam, who placed the point first, the circle came out perfectly, as it surrounded the point. Meaning to say, that Rambam first began with the axiom of faith and then made a circle of intellectualism around it. Hence, the circle came out properly—that is, his intellect was concurrent with the point. However, without the point first, the circle will not come out correctly and the intellect will certainly be corrupt, as there is no point of reference. If a person has the true point, it does not let him stray from the true path and his mind comes to the correct conclusions. However, without the point, his mind can lead him anywhere.”

Just as the only way to make a perfect circle is with a compass which keeps one in line with the point in the middle, the only way to embark on the journey of rationalism is with faith. For without faith and knowledge the point, it is impossible to create a true circle of true reason. When one retains the point of faith in the essential unity of G-d, he will measure the circumference and the extension of his logical inquiry in relation to the essential point of G-d’s unity. It is then that not only will he not be damaged by philosophical enquiry, but on the contrary, he will grow from it.

The lesson that we are to learn from this is twofold: (a) The realization that the philosophical study itself is what creates the questions and that “The epitome of knowledge is that we cannot know You,” causes that we are not swayed by the questions, as their value is mitigated. (b) The way to overcome the greatest questions is through absorption of the essential point around which the circle is drawn. When we realize that all existence comes forth from the singular point of G-dliness, we realize the singular unity of G-d as expressed in all that is.