The Red Heifer and System 2 Thinking

In Defense of Chok in Chukat

This is the ordinance of the law that the Lord has commanded: Instruct the Israelite people to bring you a red cow without blemish, in which there is no defect and on which no yoke has been laid. (Numbers 19:3)

וזאת חקת התורה THIS IS THE ORDINANCE OF THE LAW — Because Satan and the nations of the world taunt Israel, saying, “What is this command and what reason is there for it”, on this account it (Scripture) writes (uses) the term חקה about it, implying: It is an enactment from before Me; you have no right to criticize it (Rashi, citing Yoma 67b)

אדמה RED — It had to be red in allusion to the idea contained in the text (Isaiah 1:18): “Though they (your sins) be red as scarlet [they shall become as white as snow]” — so you see that sin is termed red. (Rashi)

תמימה PERFECT — in allusion to the Israelites who were perfect but through it (the calf) became morally maimed: let this perfect animal come and atone for them so that they may regain their state of perfection. (Rashi)

The “parah adumah” or red heifer is the most famous example of a chok, or law without obvious meaning. It is the paradigm of religion as inscrutable. Hence, the name of our parasha: Chukat. And yet, Rashi, who cites the meaning of Chok as unintelligible also offers two interpretations of its symbolism. The red heifer signifies the idea of repentance and the idea of desecration.

On the one hand, the red heifer looks red, semiotically coded as sinful. On the other hand, the red heifer is perfect, without blemish, suggesting a semiotic field of purity. But putting these together yields a dynamic account of imperfection and perfection. Nobody is beyond saving. Nobody is beyond fallibility. Monotheism offers an ethical message for both the moral top and the moral bottom. To the moral bottom comes the message of forgiveness—red is just the surface. You can come clean. To the moral top comes the message of warning—you think you are perfect, but you, too, will fall, will worship idols. This red heifer which is perfect is also a reminder of how you lost your perfection.

Laws like “don’t steal” and “don’t murder” fall under the category of Mishpat, a law that makes sense, is universal, and obviously benefits society. The sacrifice of an animal for its symbolism, by contrast, is a harder sell for the modern reader. But when we think about failure and return, more generally, we realize that their causes are highly personal, often subtle and intangible. It is easy to regulate behavior with carrots and sticks, and that is how Mishpat works. But the character of a person who engages in harm or self-harm can’t be reasoned with according to the tools of Mishpat. For such idiosyncratic cases, idiosyncratic tools are needed, and that is what a chok may do. Much like art, it tells us what we need to hear without doing so directly. Chok touches the heart of motivation where Mishpat touches only the consequences of our motivation.

The red heifer teaches two different messages to two different audiences—don’t be haughty and don’t be self-lacerating—but these messages can also be thought of as the same message for the same audience. The message is for the ego and it says “You’re not special.” You’re not so special as to be beyond redemption. You’re not so special as to be beyond error. It is presented as a chok, as an inscrutable event (the sacrifice of a red cow), to teach humility.

When you’re receiving the Torah, you aren’t thinking that you’re capable of violating the first and second commandments. When you’re violating the commandments and suffering the consequences of an outcast you aren’t thinking that you’re going to be able to reintegrate and bounce back. But you should be. What gets in the way is ego. The ego wants certainty—whether it’s certainty of success or certainty of failure. But life is dynamic and a clear attitude not guided by status-seeking will allow one to see both the good and the bad, the pure and the impure, the opportunity and the risk. Where the denizens of Mishpat seek to know whether something is legal or illegal, the champions of Chok find more gradation, more dimensions for analysis. Many of the Mishpatim appeal to our moral intuition, what Daniel Kahneman calls our System 1 thinking. Chok makes us pause, forcing us to engage in System 2 thinking. System 2 thinkers update their priors and seek to falsify their assumptions by testing them against reality. While static thinkers appeal to the view that we are either saved or damned, System 2 thinkers seek to bring us back to percentages. Maybe I’m only 75 % at risk, and tomorrow I can be at 65%. Getting to that level of idiosyncrasy and attention requires us to investigate our biases and look at the world more flexibly. When we do that, chok, rather than blocking us from knowledge, becomes our guide.

Shabbat Shalom,

Zohar Atkins

Etz Hasadeh