Al Reguel Ajat

Rabbi Haym Soloveitchik was born in Boston in 1937. He is the son of Rabbi Joseph Ber Soloveitchik (1903-1993), the «Rob,» who served as director of the rabbinical seminary at Yeshivah University for over 50 years, during which time he ordained over 2,000 Modern Orthodox rabbis. Haym is currently a research professor at that university, specializing in Jewish history and literature.

In his essay, «Rupture and Reconstruction: The Transformation of Contemporary Orthodoxy,» Haym Soloveitchik distinguishes between the traditional practice of Judaism learned by imitation and the textual practice learned from books. He argues that, in Europe, before the Holocaust, Judaism was learned at home, much as one’s native language was learned: by observing and imitating what one’s elders did, especially parents and grandparents. Parents celebrated Passover the same way they saw their grandparents celebrating it. They learned the «recipe» for how to hold a Seder from watching their elders do it, and they understood that it wasn’t an exact science, that it had to be adapted to each particular situation. Of course, there was a «recipe book» that was read and studied, but the way to pray, eat, drink, dress, have sex, work, and even rest—in general, the way of life—wasn’t learned by studying a manual, but was absorbed at home, on the street, in the synagogue, and at school.

But now, how to hold a Passover Seder is learned from a manual that is becoming more and more detailed. The «mother tongue» is now learned by studying grammar books, not by listening to our mother speak. And this was a complete change. It even turns out that our mother no longer speaks her own language correctly, compared to the grammar manual. Manuals now dictate how to do everything, including how to live. Religious texts prevailed over traditional Jewish practice. The tragedy of the Holocaust, with the loss of the continuity of Jewish life, was the turning point in this process that imposed the practice of textual Judaism over the practice of traditional Judaism. The change was brought about by works such as the Mishnah Brurah of the Chofetz Chaim, which its author wrote based on an enormous amount of rabbinic literature, but not on references to daily practice.

Those most affected by this rupture were the Haredim themselves, the ultra-Orthodox Jews. Especially those who have just become observant, when they weren’t before, the «chozer vetshuvah,» because they practice a Judaism that they didn’t experience at home and had to learn from a manual. For example, Haym Soloveitchik explains it this way: «Today’s kosher kitchen, with its rigid separation between milk and meat, with its two sets of dishes, two sinks, two draining boards, two shelves, two sets of dishcloths and tablecloths, even two cupboards, has no basis in Halacha, much less in the way our parents made it. The simple fact is that traditional Jewish cooking, passed down from mother to daughter for generations, is now unrecognizable and has been immensely amplified beyond halachic requirements.» We’re moving from a home-made Judaism to one based solely on a printed text.

By: Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Haym Soloveichik: “Rupture and reconstruction: the transformation of contemporary orthodoxy”

Menachem Mendel Schneerson (1902-1994) was born in the port of Nokolaev, in the Russian Empire. He was the son of Rabbi Levi Yitzhak Schneerson and Chana Yanovsky. He was a direct descendant of the third Lubavitcher Rebbe, Tzemach Tzedek Schneerson. From childhood, he was distinguished by his extraordinary intelligence and empathy. At the age of eleven, his private tutor, Zalman Vilenkin, announced to his father that he had nothing more to teach him. It was then that his father took his education into his own hands. He taught him rabbinic literature, Kabbalah, and Talmud, which he had mastered completely by the age of 17.

In 1923, he visited the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzhak Schneerson, for the first time, and met his daughter, Haya Mushka. They married in Warsaw in 1928 and moved to Berlin, where he entered the University of Berlin to study mathematics, physics, and philosophy. His father-in-law was very proud of his academic achievements and paid for his college education.

In 1933, with the rise of Nazism, they moved to Paris, where he continued his religious and community activities, at his father-in-law’s request, while also studying mechanics and earning a degree in electrical engineering in 1937. He entered the Sorbonne to study mathematics, which he left unfinished, and in 1940 he had to flee to Vichy, then to Nice, before finally leaving Europe and arriving in New York in 1941. A few months earlier, his father-in-law, the Rebbe, had managed to escape from Poland and also reach that city, settling in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, where the headquarters of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement is still located.

During the war, he obtained American citizenship and volunteered for the Navy, where he helped design electrical circuits for the battleship USS Missouri, among other jobs. By then, the Rebbe had already appointed him director of the three main Chabad organizations, dedicated to education, social service, and publications. In 1942, he initiated the «shlichus» (emissaries) program, which consisted of sending pairs of yeshiva students during their summer vacations to places with isolated Jewish communities, with the aim of teaching Judaism to adults, and especially to children.

In 1950, his father-in-law died, and he was buried in Montefiore Cemetery in Queens. His tomb, known as the «Ohel,» would eventually become a place of pilgrimage for his followers. In 1951, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson became the seventh Lubavitcher Rebbe. He dedicated his energy and time to many fields. Education was his highest priority. He placed special importance on women learning Torah.

In the 1960s, he instituted his «mitzvot campaign,» where volunteers placed tefillin on Jewish men on the street and gave away candlesticks for Shabbat and Hanukkah, among other things. He was also deeply concerned about everything related to the State of Israel, especially the work of its soldiers. Every week, he gave away dollar bills to those who came to visit him, to teach them the importance of tzedaka. In general, the Rebbe always advocated remaining at the center ideologically and socially, seeking to be the bridge between the secular and the religious. He died in 1994 and was buried next to his father-in-law in the Ohel. He had no children and did not name a successor. But he left behind the Jewish organization with the most extensive presence worldwide.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Material from the Chabad website and other sources.

The Talmud, in tractate «Shabbat,» lists 39 categories of work that are prohibited on Shabbat. One of them, 39, states that it is forbidden to carry anything from a private domain, such as one’s home, to a public domain, such as the street, and vice versa. The term does not refer to whether the space is owned by someone, but rather to whether the space is enclosed or not. This prohibition against carrying applies to anything, including the tallit, house keys, a stroller, etc.

In ancient times, many neighborhoods, such as those where Jews lived, and even entire cities, were walled. This solved the problem, as the rabbis declared all spaces within the walls to be private spaces, allowing people to carry objects within their boundaries. The private character was achieved by having the entire community share a piece of bread, since sharing bread is an action that takes place in a private space. However, one could not carry objects whose use was prohibited on Shabbat, such as a pen or an umbrella. However, one could carry a siddur and a tallit to the synagogue or the key to one’s house.

However, today’s cities are no longer walled, so the problem of carrying necessary objects on Shabbat persists. The solution the rabbis provided was to group all the spaces in a place, whether private or public, and turn them into a private domain. How? Following this logic: A wall that encloses a space is still a wall, even if it has a door. Therefore, the wall does not have to be solid, as it can have many doors. A door is made up of two vertical elements, such as two posts, and a horizontal element, which closes and forms the «door.» For example: Two telephone poles and a wire connecting them are considered a door, for the purposes of enclosing the space and making it private.

Thus, a «wall» could be composed of a series of «doors» formed by poles and wires, in addition to actual walls or partitions. In this way, large spaces can be closed off and made «private» for halachatic purposes, allowing observant Jews to carry on Shabbat. This is known as an «eruv.» Eruvs existed in small Eastern European towns, the «shtetls,» and they exist today in many cities with a sizable Jewish community.

Sharonne Cohen tells us that, for many people, the concept of the eruv seems like a simple legalistic ruse designed to resolve the prohibition of carrying necessary objects on Shabbat. However, building and maintaining it requires an effort from the observant community, especially the Orthodox community. Why, then, do the rabbis insist on doing so? Charlotte Elisheva Fonrobert, in her text «The Political Symbolism of the Eruv,» among other things, clarifies that the rabbis’ purpose for having an eruv is more symbolic than halachic. If you don’t want to violate Shabbat, you have to live within the area of ​​the eruv. This implies that Jews live in a specific area. If you live outside the eruv, you cannot participate in the communal Shabbat celebration. If you live outside, you are excluded from the community. It seems, at its core, that the eruv is a virtual return to living within the shtetl, even if only symbolically.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Articles by Sharonne Cohen, Charlotte Elisheva Fonrobert, and other sources.

One factor that distinguishes the different religious movements within Judaism is the absolute or relative character each gives to the commandments of the Torah. There are those, on the one hand, who completely resist making any changes, in contrast to those who have modified everything.

Shai Landesman tells us that when the walls of the ghetto began to crumble in the 18th century, ultra-Orthodox Judaism saw it as a threat to its existence. The aspect of modernity that most frightened the rabbis of that time was the modernist position that everything was relative. They saw the world moving toward a society where anything goes, where there is no absolute measure to define what is good, where there is no ulterior meaning or purpose to life. Shai explains that, to this end, they designed a structure where all aspects of life, from the most important religious obligations to the most mundane trivialities, have only one correct way to be done. Their opposition to change is total.

Modern Orthodoxy takes a different stance. Rabbi Norman Lamm says: “The Torah, faith, and religious study, on the one hand, and Madda, science and knowledge of the world, on the other, together offer us a more comprehensive and truthful vision than either alone.” Modern Orthodoxy, while remaining absolutely faithful to halacha, accepts that some principles found in the Torah cannot be taken literally. Persistently believing that the world was created in six 24-hour days is completely unsustainable. Seeking congruence between religious principles and those of science is the path of the Modern Orthodox.

Conservative or Masorti Judaism also bases the practice of Judaism on the commandments of the Torah, but accepts that their validity is not entirely absolute, as the history of the Jewish people teaches us how our sages adapted them to the needs of the moment. They maintain that some precepts can be modified to function in new circumstances, but this can only be done by a collegial group of specially chosen rabbis.

The Reconstructionist movement goes a little further. It rejects the divine origin of the halachic commandments, but recognizes that these, being a product of the evolution of Judaism as a civilization, have a certain absolute character, which encourages compliance.

For their part, Reformists go a step further by completely eliminating the obligation to observe halakha, and it is the rabbi who decides in each community how to practice their Judaism. And Humanist Judaism, by eliminating God from its vision of Judaism, leaves open the possibility of total change.

On what does each movement base its position on change? The key lies in how much one believes the mitzvoth have a divine origin or were created in part or entirely by man. To paraphrase Hamlet: “To change, or not to change, that is the question.”

By: Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Shai Landesman “On the alleged collapse of Haredism” and other sources.

It is written in Pirkei Avot (Treatise of the Fathers) 1:1: “Moses received the Torah on Mount Sinai and transmitted it to Yehoshua. He transmitted it to the elders of the people, who in turn passed it on to the prophets, who passed it on to the Men of the Great Assembly.”

The “Men of the Great Assembly,” in Hebrew “Anshei Knesset Haggeddolah,” were, according to Jewish tradition, a group of 120 scribes, sages, and prophets who lived from the final period of the biblical prophets, corresponding to the beginning of the Second Temple period, to the early Hellenistic period, the beginning of rabbinic Judaism. This was between 539 and 332 BCE, when the Land of Israel was under Persian rule.

Many of the foundations that shaped Judaism were established by them. They were the ones who established the canon of the Jewish Bible, deciding which books would be included in it. Tradition attributes to them the writing of the Books of Ezekiel, Daniel, Esther, and the Twelve Minor Prophets. They were also the ones who established the festival of Purim and composed the Amidah prayer that we recited daily to this day. They also introduced the classification of the Oral Torah into the three major groups that comprise it: the midrashim, the halakhot, and the agadot.

History tells us that the members of the Knesset Haggedolah were Jews who had returned from exile in Babylon, along with Ezra and Nehemiah, who were also part of the group. They opened the study of the Torah to all Jews without distinction, thanks to Ezra’s weekly readings, a tradition that endures to this day. The canonization of the Jewish Bible made it the central authority around which Jewish life began to be structured, in part thanks to the «Men of the Great Assembly» who created the method of «midrash halacha,» in which they derived a halakhic rule from a biblical verse. They also created new halakhot to address the new requirements of the time, in addition to developing the Jewish calendar. They are generally mentioned in rabbinic literature as the authors of the ideas, rules, and prayers that began to shape the Judaism we know and practice.

The exact nature of the Great Assembly is unclear; it may have been a permanent institution with legislative and executive powers or simply a generic name for all the sages of that period. Although the names of some of its members are known, such as the prophets Hagay, Zechariah, Malachi, Mordechai, Nehemiah, and the priests Yehoshua and Shimon Hatzadik, the Great Assembly was decisive in defining the spiritual and cultural framework of Judaism, a framework that has survived through the centuries. It was the first Jewish parliament.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: “The Essential Talmud” by Adin Steinsaltz and other sources.

Sherwin Theodore Wine (1928-2007) was born in Detroit, Michigan. He was the son of parents originally from Poland, affiliated with the Conservative movement, who kept a kosher home and observed the Sabbath. He studied at the University of Michigan, where he earned his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in humanities. In 1951, he enrolled at Hebrew Union College, where he graduated with a degree in Reform rabbi. He served as a chaplain in the U.S. Army during the Korean War.

In 1958, he formed a Reform congregation, called Beth El, in Windsor, Ontario, Canada. In 1963, a disaffected group from Temple Beth El asked him to form a new congregation in a Detroit suburb. What bothered them was the traditional language used in the service. Wine did so, eventually deciding to remove the word «God» from the prayers and instead use phrases that exalted Jewish history, culture, and ethics. This decision was the turning point in the development of Humanistic Judaism as a distinct position within the Jewish world. In 1971, the congregation moved to its own building and changed its name to the Birmingham Temple. The Torah was placed in a space in the temple library, and a statue with the word Adam written in Hebrew was placed in place of the Aron Hakodesh.

Humanism is a philosophical and ethical position that puts the human person first. Its followers prefer critical thinking and convincing evidence over unquestioning acceptance of dogma or superstition. Human freedom and progress are paramount to them, and they are typically aligned with secularism. It is a non-theistic (Godless) philosophy of life, centered on human action, as it understands the world through science, rather than through a revelation, such as that described in the Torah that Moses experienced at Sinai.

The new movement attracted people from other places, and in 1969, Wine formed the Society for Humanistic Judaism, which currently includes nearly 30 congregations in the United States and Canada. In 1985, he founded the International Institute for Secular Humanistic Judaism, with the aim of preparing leaders and rabbis for the movement, both in the United States and Israel.

Jewish holidays and the life cycle are celebrated in Humanistic Judaism with a different meaning. For example, Rosh Hashanah is considered a time of reflection and renewal, and Yom Kippur is a celebration of inner strength and self-worth. They place more emphasis on the writings of Jewish scholars of the last 250 years, who have integrated the concepts of the Haskala, the Jewish Enlightenment, into their philosophy than on ancient texts.

The movement defines Judaism as the historical and cultural experience of the Jewish people. In their ceremonies and celebrations, they use human-centered language and do not mention God. They maintain that it is humankind’s responsibility to solve humanity’s problems alone and not to wait for divine help. In short, the philosophy of Humanistic Judaism is human-centered and celebrates Jewish culture, but without supernatural components.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Material from the Society for Humanistic Judaism and other sources.

In the Jewish calendar, there are six days on which one must fast. Two of them, Yom Kippur and Tishah b’Av, are major fasts that last a full day, from sunset on the evening of the first day until sunset on the second day. The other four are minor fasts and last only from sunrise to sunset on the same day. Of all these, Yom Kippur is the only one commanded in the Torah. The other five were established by the rabbis.

Tisha b’Av, the fast of the 17th of Tammuz, the fast of Gedaliah (the 3rd of Tishrei), and the fast of the 10th of Tevet, have their origins in the destruction of the first Temple in Jerusalem at the hands of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. The siege of Jerusalem began on the 10th of Tevet, the Babylonians entered the city on the 17th of Tammuz, and the destruction of the city on the 9th (Tishah). These fasts were suspended during the Second Temple period, but were reinstated after the Temple was destroyed. Today, with the creation of the State of Israel and the unification of Jerusalem, some branches of liberal Judaism hold that these fasts are no longer justified.

The Fast of Gedaliah commemorates the assassination of Gedaliah ben Ahikam. Gedaliah was a wise, gentle, and modest man who was appointed governor of the Land of Israel by Nebuchadnezzar, seeking to ensure that the country would not be completely desolate. He sought to ensure that the peasants would remain and continue farming the land. Under Gedaliah’s administration, the Jewish community began to prosper, and some exiles returned to their homeland. He ruled from Mizpah, where the prophet Jeremiah also lived.

But Gedaliah could not continue his mission. He was assassinated by Yishmael Ben-Nataniah with the help of the king of Ammon. Yishmael Ben-Nataniah murdered Gedaliah, his followers, and even the Babylonian guards who were there. This massacre is what we remember in the Fast of Gedaliah, and it had very important consequences in the history of the Jewish people. Finally, the fourth minor fast is that of Queen Esther, commemorated the day before Purim. It commemorates her fast before entering with King Achashveri to pray for the lives of the Jews.

In ancient times, in the Middle East, it was customary to use prayer and fasting to ask favors from the gods. In the Bible, on many occasions, a special fast was declared to ask God for His help in resolving a particular matter. But our sages and prophets emphasized the fact that fasting is not an end in itself, but rather the means through which man must demonstrate sincere repentance. The prophet Isaiah (58:3) distinguishes between a fast that is not accompanied by true repentance and therefore is not accepted by God, and a true fast that leads to God’s merciful forgiveness.

In the time of the Second Temple, some viewed fasting as an ascetic exercise, depriving oneself, for religious reasons, of the normal pleasures and satisfactions of life. This attitude was condemned by the rabbis. They even viewed Torah study as diminished if fasting was performed at the same time. Afflicting our bodies with fasting should be done to give us time to reflect on our actions, with the desire for inner change, and not to turn it simply into an external, ceremonial ritual.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Encyclopaedia Judaica and other sources.

Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, 1937-2020, was born in Jerusalem to a completely secular and Zionist family. His father was one of the few from the Land of Israel who volunteered to support the Republic in the Spanish Civil War. At the age of ten, he hired a tutor to teach him Talmud. The father told him: “I don’t care if you’re an atheist, but I don’t tolerate any member of my family being ignorant. It’s a shame for a Jew to be ignorant.” Shortly before his bar mitzvah, Adin voluntarily decided to practice Orthodox Judaism. Steinsaltz said: “I’m more observant than my father, but my father is more Jewish than I am.

Steinsaltz studied mathematics, physics, and chemistry at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, while also studying to be a rabbi. After graduating, he dedicated himself to establishing experimental schools and, at the age of 24, became the youngest school director in Israel. In 1965, he founded the Israel Institute for Talmudic Publications and began his monumental work of translating the Talmud into Hebrew, along with its commentary, to enable Hebrew and non-Aramaic speakers to decipher the complicated text of the Gemara, which was written in ancient Aramaic without punctuation. It took him 45 years to complete the project. In addition to the Hebrew translation, he has translated portions of the Talmud into English and other languages.

Steinsaltz Editions have opened the world of the Talmud to thousands of people outside the walls of yeshivas, including women, who were traditionally not taught Talmud. In his editions, Rabbi Steinsaltz placed Rashi’s commentary in a different place than the traditional texts, and for this reason some ultra-Orthodox rabbis did not accept his work and prohibited its use. But over time, this negative attitude faded. He said: «I never thought that spreading ignorance had any benefit, except for those in a position of power who want to deprive others of their rights, to keep them subservient.»

Steinsaltz has written more than sixty books, mostly on theology, but he has also written on zoology and social studies, and even a detective novel. One of the best-known is «The Thirteen Petalled Rose,» his classic work on Kabbalah. His commitment to education has led him to establish a network of schools and institutes both in Israel and in the countries of the former Soviet Union.

For Steinsaltz, the Talmud is the cornerstone of Jewish culture. It’s true that the origin of the Talmud is the Bible, but the influence of the Talmud is fundamental. Perhaps because it wasn’t created by isolated individuals, but rather by hundreds and hundreds of scholars, in houses of study, in a millennia-long process that still continues. Steinsaltz says: «The Talmud is the central pillar for understanding anything about Judaism, more so than the Bible. The Talmud is not a divine gift given to the Jewish people. The Jewish people created it, but at the same time, the Talmud created the Jewish people. In many ways, we are Talmudic Jews.»

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Articles by Irene R. Prusher, Raphael Ahren, Nathan Jeffay, and other sources.

Eugene Borowitz (1924-2016) was born in Columbus, Ohio, to parents originally from Lithuania who spoke Yiddish at home. He proudly stated that he was the product of a mixed marriage between a cerebral Lithuanian grandfather and an emotional Hasidic grandfather. He earned his bachelor’s degree in philosophy at Ohio State University and then entered Hebrew Union College, where he received his rabbinical degree and later his doctorate in Hebrew letters with a specialization in rabbinic literature.

For over fifty years, Rabbi Borowitz taught theology at Hebrew Union College, the Reform rabbinical seminary. His teachings changed the approach of Reformism, where individual autonomy and the rejection of halacha were the main paradigm of the movement. He proposed a Judaism where the individual lives the biblical covenant with God, fulfilling his mitzvoth, commandments, while retaining the freedom to make his own religious decisions, based on knowledge and personal commitment.

Borowitz said that, derived from the ideas of the Enlightenment and Modernity, humankind thought that with the sole use of reason we would have solid and universal values. That we would find our ethical system for ourselves, since we are thinking beings. That we don’t need it imposed on us from outside, as divine commandments do. But that didn’t work, Eugene tells us. The Holocaust and its horrors proved otherwise. The people of Kant and Schiller, with all their culture, took evil to unimaginable extremes. We believed that reason and science would be the basis for elevating humanity to higher levels, but what they did was make everything relative and plunge humanity into a vacuum of values. Morality lost its religious basis.

Yet, Borowitz said, most Jews do not want to return to living in a ghetto. We can no longer renounce the benefits that modernity brought us, such as equality and pluralistic democracy. We, he said, non-Orthodox Jews, would like to be more religious and lead a «more Jewish» life, but without losing our right to determine for ourselves which aspects of Judaism we accept and observe.

He called it renewing the Covenant with God, bringing modernity, equality, and democratic pluralism into creative conversation with the particularities and traditional practices of rabbinic Judaism. It meant moving from a modern Judaism that sought to be universal to a postmodern Judaism that manifests itself in a particular truth. The reformism of modernity sought to conquer, control, and banish the past, while postmodernism rescues and allows some traditions of the past to influence the present and the future.

Borowitz did not consider himself a «rationalist.» His principles were grounded in his own particular experiences and those of his community, avoiding positions based on reason and the universal. But he also did not accept the orthodox position that denies the autonomy of the individual and only accepts complete obedience to the law, regardless of one’s own conscience.

Eugene Borowitz was undoubtedly one of the most influential thinkers of Reform Judaism. In his writings, he was able to reconcile personal freedom with the ancient tradition of Judaism.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Eugene B. Borowitz, «Renewing the Covenant,» and other sources.

Hermann Cohen (1842-1918) was born in Coswig, a town in central Germany with a small Jewish community. Despite its size, in 1800 the community received permission to build a synagogue on the same street where the Cohens would later live. Hermann’s father was both the cantor and the teacher of the community’s youth. The Cohen family home reflected traditional Jewish values. Gerson and Friederike Cohen, on Shabbat, welcomed Jewish travelers passing through the town. It was customary for the father to engage his guests in Talmudic discussions at the end of dinner. It was in this environment that Hermann’s deep Jewish roots were forged, which gave him a vast knowledge of Judaism and motivated him to take an active stance against antisemitism. Hermann studied at the Dessau Gymnasium, the Breslau Theological Seminary, and the universities of Breslau, Berlin, and Halle. He was one of the founders of the “Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaft des Judenthums«, the Society for the Study of the Science of Judaism. In 1873, he began his career as a professor at the University of Marburg. It was there that he wrote most of his works on mathematics and neo-Kantian philosophy. He died in Berlin in 1918.

Cohen wrote two books and more than sixty articles on Jewish philosophy. In them, he argues that the goal of religion is to fill in those aspects that define a moral life and that are beyond the capabilities of philosophy, such as, for example, understanding sin, revelation, repentance, anguish, and guilt. Philosophy only defines the universal, so it cannot deal with these kinds of concepts that arise only in relation to the individual. Therefore, it is religion, not philosophy, that teaches a person to be ethical, to face guilt, and to repent of their actions without abandoning their moral responsibility.

Cohen viewed Judaism as the purest monotheistic religion. He understood it as the religion of reason that would put an end to paganism and myths and ideally lead us to a world where ethical values ​​would be universal. He understood Judaism as the religion of ethical monotheism. He saw the coming of the Messiah more as the final stage in the development of a Jewish social ethic than as the arrival of a redeemer. He agreed with Kant that ethics should be universal.

Hermann Cohen’s influence on 19th-century Jewish philosophy was enormous. His emphasis on the universal ethics of Judaism, as the instrument for improving the world, allowed for the integration of Jews into modern society, but without losing their particularities. As a scientist, Cohen saw how the laws of the physical world are immutable, but ethical principles depend on human will for them to be fulfilled. He saw in God the rational explanation for why those principles should be adhered to. God and humankind are partners in the creation of a humanity governed by universal ethical principles.

Hermann Cohen significantly influenced the work of Martin Buber and Franz Rosenzweig. He differed with Buber, as he did not believe Zionism was the solution. He was an idealist: for him, ideas, principles, and values ​​took priority over reality. Hermann Cohen saw the world as what it could or should be, unlike those who only see it as it is.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: An Introduction to Modern Jewish Philosophy by N. M. Samuelson and other sources.