idealism and tragedy
Posted: Wed Mar 03, 2010 3:31 pm
This is going to be a long ramble, I'm afraid... It is Cohen-related, eventually, but I'll have to ask you to bear with me for a couple of paragraphs first...
Last night I went to hear Rabbi Jonathan Sachs, the Chief Rabbi of Britain, speaking about 'Defining a Moral Compass for the Twenty-First Century'. The first thing I should say is, if you ever get a chance to hear Rabbi Sachs speak, take it, you won't regret it – he's an extremely graceful and eloquent and sometimes very funny speaker, even if some of his points (and some of his gags) turn on Hebrew terms that mostly go over the heads of gentiles like me.
Anyway. Among other things, Rabbi Sachs was talking about the 'tragic sense of life' in religion – the sense that the world is just basically fallen, beyond redemption, and the gap between our aspirations and our reality will never be closed. This tragic vision, he said, is what draws people towards 'other-worldly' religious visions, visions that turn away from the world and look towards distant heavens and the afterlife (this is the kind of vision that the Christian theologians call, and condemn as, Gnosticism). This tragic vision, the Rabbi said, comes from the Greek strand of Western culture, and is categorically not Jewish – in fact, it's fundamentally incompatible with the Jewish faith. Because Christianity (and Islam) in many of their forms incorporate this vision of a corrupt world and a perfect afterlife, they have historically been able to make their peace with morally questionable regimes on earth (to render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's).
Judaism, on the other hand, holds out no promise of a bliss-out in heaven after we die. So the message of Judaism must be that we can make God's will manifest here on Earth, and that we must maintain the hope and faith that this world is perfectible; that we can close the gap between ideal and reality.
(He had a nice little routine about how Jews could never have written the Shakespearean tragedies, or you would've had a Jewish mother coming in halfway through the second act of Othello saying, "oy vey, your majesty, sit down, have some chicken soup, and let's talk this out..." – the Rabbi's gag, I stress, not mine.)
As I was walking home afterwards I was thinking about Anthem – "forget your perfect offering / there is a crack in everything / that's where the light gets in" – and about Hallelujah – "even though it all went wrong / I'll stand before the Lord of Song / with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah". It seems to me that Cohen's vision – at least, as expressed in these two great songs – is neither the Judaic idealism that Sachs was articulating, nor the tragic Gnostic "spindrift gaze towards paradise" that Sachs saw in some Christianity and Islam. Cohen maybe leans a bit closer to the tragic, but these songs seem to express an acceptance that 'everything is broken' and a capacity to love it in all its brokenness and disappointment.
So, I'm hoping that my fellow forumsters, especially those with better education in Judaic matters than I have, will have something to say about this. What do you think? Is Cohen's vision a Judaic vision in these terms? Do you accept the premises? Is Cohen an idealist? Or a tragedian? Or something else entirely?
Last night I went to hear Rabbi Jonathan Sachs, the Chief Rabbi of Britain, speaking about 'Defining a Moral Compass for the Twenty-First Century'. The first thing I should say is, if you ever get a chance to hear Rabbi Sachs speak, take it, you won't regret it – he's an extremely graceful and eloquent and sometimes very funny speaker, even if some of his points (and some of his gags) turn on Hebrew terms that mostly go over the heads of gentiles like me.
Anyway. Among other things, Rabbi Sachs was talking about the 'tragic sense of life' in religion – the sense that the world is just basically fallen, beyond redemption, and the gap between our aspirations and our reality will never be closed. This tragic vision, he said, is what draws people towards 'other-worldly' religious visions, visions that turn away from the world and look towards distant heavens and the afterlife (this is the kind of vision that the Christian theologians call, and condemn as, Gnosticism). This tragic vision, the Rabbi said, comes from the Greek strand of Western culture, and is categorically not Jewish – in fact, it's fundamentally incompatible with the Jewish faith. Because Christianity (and Islam) in many of their forms incorporate this vision of a corrupt world and a perfect afterlife, they have historically been able to make their peace with morally questionable regimes on earth (to render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's).
Judaism, on the other hand, holds out no promise of a bliss-out in heaven after we die. So the message of Judaism must be that we can make God's will manifest here on Earth, and that we must maintain the hope and faith that this world is perfectible; that we can close the gap between ideal and reality.
(He had a nice little routine about how Jews could never have written the Shakespearean tragedies, or you would've had a Jewish mother coming in halfway through the second act of Othello saying, "oy vey, your majesty, sit down, have some chicken soup, and let's talk this out..." – the Rabbi's gag, I stress, not mine.)
As I was walking home afterwards I was thinking about Anthem – "forget your perfect offering / there is a crack in everything / that's where the light gets in" – and about Hallelujah – "even though it all went wrong / I'll stand before the Lord of Song / with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah". It seems to me that Cohen's vision – at least, as expressed in these two great songs – is neither the Judaic idealism that Sachs was articulating, nor the tragic Gnostic "spindrift gaze towards paradise" that Sachs saw in some Christianity and Islam. Cohen maybe leans a bit closer to the tragic, but these songs seem to express an acceptance that 'everything is broken' and a capacity to love it in all its brokenness and disappointment.
So, I'm hoping that my fellow forumsters, especially those with better education in Judaic matters than I have, will have something to say about this. What do you think? Is Cohen's vision a Judaic vision in these terms? Do you accept the premises? Is Cohen an idealist? Or a tragedian? Or something else entirely?