A Wise and Discerning People
Consilience in Va'Etchanan
So Pharaoh said to Joseph, “Since God has made all this known to you, there is none so discerning and wise as you. (Genesis 41:39)
“Observe them faithfully, for that will be proof of your wisdom and discernment to other peoples, who on hearing of all these laws will say, “Surely, that great nation is a wise and discerning people.” (Deuteronomy 4:6)
Rabbi Shimon ben Pazi said that Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said in the name of bar Kappara: Anyone who knows how to calculate astronomical seasons and the movement of constellations and does not do so, the verse says about him: “They do not take notice of the work of God, and they do not see His handiwork” (Isaiah 5:12). And Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥmani said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: From where is it derived that there is a mitzva incumbent upon a person to calculate astronomical seasons and the movement of constellations? As it was stated: “And you shall guard and perform, for it is your wisdom and understanding in the eyes of the nations” (Deuteronomy 4:6). What wisdom and understanding is there in the Torah that is in the eyes of the nations, i.e., appreciated and recognized by all? You must say: This is the calculation of astronomical seasons and the movement of constellations, as the calculation of experts is witnessed by all. (Shabbat 75a)
Every one of these “statutes” convinces all nations of the wisdom and understanding it includes. But if no reason could be found for these statutes, if they produced no advantage and removed no evil, why then should he who believes in them and follows them be wise, reasonable, and so excellent as to raise the admiration of all nations? But the truth is undoubtedly as we have said, that every one of the six hundred and thirteen precepts serves to inculcate some truth, to remove some erroneous opinion, to establish proper relations in society, to diminish evil, to train in good manners or to warn against bad habits. All this depends on three things: opinions, morals, and social conduct. (Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed III.31)
Moses commands the people this week, in parasahat Va’etchanan, to observe the laws in such a way that other nations will say that they are wise and discerning (chacham v’navon). The adjectival combination of “wise and discerning” appears rarely in the Torah. We find it in Pharaoh’s description of Joseph, and in God’s description of King Solomon. Here, Moses tells the people to be a kind of Joseph 2.0, a collective expression of Solomon. In all three cases—Moses to the people, Pharaoh to Joseph, and God to Solomon—we find that the audience for Jewish life is global. The point of the laws is not just to make Jews better, but to inspire admiration from the nations. Absent in all three cases is the notion that one can speak a private language, hide in illegibility, and avoid the judgments—good or bad—of non-Israelites.
Part of transitioning from a runaway band of slaves to a sovereign nation is shifting the emphasis from what one is running away from to what one is going to do with that experience. We are judged not for what has happened to us in the past, but what we are making of our lives in the present, and will make of them in the future. Remember the Exodus—but make sure to live wisely. Don’t make oppression an excuse for failing to set a positive agenda. Are you just going to be anti-Egyptian, anti-Babylonian, anti-Canaanite, or are you going to be wise and discerning? The goal, Moses emphasizes is not to win geopolitical power by force (that’s necessary but insufficient), but to earn it by moral authority. The real victory will come when the values of Jewish life are perceived to have universal merit. The Promised Land is not an enclave, but a stage.
Of course, it is possible to be a wise and discerning nation and still attract hatred and antisemitism. One should not conflate the praise of wisdom seeking nations with the appeasement of enemies. Moses is not saying make the nations cheer you on no matter what, do what it takes to get their approval. But part of leadership is self-consciousness, knowing that you are an example. We intuitively grasp the idea that a Joseph, a Moses, and a Solomon must serve as examples and diplomats on behalf of their people, but the idea that the entire people can become a model is less obvious. After witnessing the people drag their feet for so long, and after observing Moses struggle with them for most of the book of Numbers, the summons to become a “wise and discerning” seems like a tall order. It is a sign of Moses's ultimate faith in the people that he calls on them to be wise and discerning. It is also a testament to his vision for the law as a technology that enables wisdom. Law can be many things: it can serve to regulate social order, habituate its observers to act in ways that benefit themselves and others, but neither of these exhausts the attainment of wisdom and discernment, which, remember, are the preserves of Joseph and Solomon. Practice and study of the law needs to lead to meta-ethics, the ability to know how to apply and understand the law rather than merely execute it. Of course it makes sense that this is part of Moses’s parting advice—without Moses around to tell people what to do they will have to become wise themselves. Distributed wisdom and discernment throughout the ranks of the people is the only way to insure against “key-man risk.”
The Talmud, in tractate Shabbat, adds another layer to Moses’s advice. Not only should the Israelites pursue observance of mitzvot in such a way that it leads to wisdom, but they should pursue wisdom wherever it can be found. That means that the pursuit of study even outside the explicit purview of Torah becomes a kind of divine commandment—so long as it leads to wisdom. The Torah itself does not teach astronomy, but if astronomy is needed to be wise, then the Torah requires us to learn it. We see a parallel here to Joseph’s ability to interpret dreams and Solomon’s ability to speak to animals. Communication with the natural world and communication with non-Israelites require perspective taking, empathy, active listening, and general sensitivity. They also require one to assume a kind of unity of knowledge or “consilience.” If God is one, then the world is one, and its wisdom is one. Ronald Dworkin calls the consilient attitude when applied to value—the unity of values— “justice for hedgehogs.”
As we come out of T’sha B’av, a day of mourning centuries of loss and destruction, it is possible to think of Jewish history as “lachrymose”—to use the term popularized by historian Salo Baron. But the fact that we have been victims is only relevant insofar as that experience makes us wiser. If we use our past experience of victimhood to shun the outside world and regard all other nations as essentially hostile, we miss the Mosaic call to pursue wisdom. Safety and security are preconditions for a decent life, but they are not the purpose of life. Maimonides argues that even the statutes whose meaning is opaque should be understood, and understood as leading to wisdom. The calamities of Jewish history are a kind of chok, an individuating mark on our identities and our collective psychology—but they, too, have wisdom to offer us, just as Joseph’s descent into slavery enabled his eventual rise. We cannot compartmentalize. For God is one. God’s world is one. And God’s wisdom is one. When, in the face of so much brokenness, we acknowledge it, but refuse to become pessimistic—when we choose to become a wise and discerning people, rather than a people of victimhood and nostalgia, God’s home will be restored, and we will dwell in it.
Shabbat Shalom,
Zohar Atkins