Teaching our children well: pedagogy, religion, and the future of philosophy

Cross Currents, Wntr, 2004 by Claire Elise Katz

Finally, the performative dimension of reading the biblical narrative encourages the development of "character" that we hope to teach. The questioning of others with whom we engage, the humility we develop before the other and before the text, and the dedication to truth rather than to preserving our own idiosyncratic ideologies all point to the kind of character we would hope to find in developing children, adolescents, and young adults. Moreover, the bonds that are formed through this kind of engagement emphasize that this is not simply an intellectual exercise. Rather, the performance of this kind of pedagogical style encourages a learning that takes place on a different level from simply acquiring the information disseminated. (8) The narratives and the Jewish model of engaging with them focus our attention on human subjectivity--on responsibility to the Other.

Emmanuel Levinas refers to the relationship between philosophy and religion as the Bible and the Greeks, and he refers to this tenuous relationship in several of his writings on Judaism. (9) Many have noted that his philosophical writings are the performative dimension of what he writes about in the Jewish writings: the translation of the Hebrew into Greek. (10) And it is worth noting that Levinas translates Hebrew into Greek and not vice versa. Levinas subordinates philosophy to religion (Judaism), even though he admits that biblical verse often displays a philosophical accent. For Levinas, philosophy's subordination to religion coheres with his view that ontology be subordinated to ethics. And thus we can see why he turns to the biblical narratives as illustrations of his philosophical argument.

In Levinas's view, the biblical commands that enjoin the 'I' to respond to the Other exemplify the ethical relationship that one has to another: "Thou shalt not kill"; "Thou shalt love the stranger"; and "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." The biblical commands require that the ego project out of itself toward the other. The Bible, then, illustrates the origins of human subjectivity: "The Bible teaches us that man is he who loves his neighbor, and that the fact of loving his neighbor is a modality of meaningful life, of a thinking as fundamental-I would say more fundamental-than the knowledge of an object, than truth as knowledge of objects." (11) The Bible renders the Greek necessary because the human begins in religion or, "if you will, the subject begins, starting from its relation, its obligation with regard to the other." (12) Judaism means, for Levinas, this responsibility to the other, a responsibility that is nontransferable, a surplus of responsibility, a responsibility for the other's responsibility, a responsibility that is not chosen, but rather that has chosen me. The Bible, Judaism, marks the time of election, the time of chosenness. The Bible reflects the responsibility of a time before memory and before choice itself. (13)

In his interview with Francois Poirie, Levinas tells us that "Judaism is not the Bible; it is the Bible seen through the Talmud, through the rabbinical wisdom, interrogation, and religious life." (14) In an interview published under the title "On Jewish Philosophy," Levinas tells his interlocutor, "it seems to me essential to consider the fact that the Jewish reading of Scripture is carried out in the anxiety, but also the hopeful expectation, of midrash." (15) Levinas goes on to name Rashi's commentary in particular as that which brings the CHUMASH to light: "the Pentateuch-Chumash-never comes to light without Rashi." (16) To approach the Torah Jewishly, then, is precisely to approach it through the rabbinic commentary on it. Thus, midrash keeps the Torah alive by preventing its easy thematization. And it prevents this thematization by posing questions and offering alternative readings of the text.