Did you hear the one about the heretic who rode his horse on Shabbat?
The Talmud (Chagigah 15a) tells a story in which a rabbi-turned-heretic named Elisha ben Abuya was riding his horse on Shabbat, in violation of traditional Jewish law. Meanwhile, his former student Rabbi Meir walked beside him to learn Torah from him. After a while, the story goes, Elisha stopped Meir and said to him, “Turn back, for you have reached the limit you are allowed to walk on Shabbat.” And Rabbi Meir turned back while Elisha kept riding.
It’s a very strange story, right? There are some obvious questions that arise: If Elisha had become a heretic, why was he hanging out with Rabbi Meir? Why was Meir looking to learn Torah from him? And why did Elisha care that Rabbi Meir was about to inadvertently break Shabbat, when he himself was already flouting the laws by riding a horse?!
I love this story. I think I love it because I relate to it. After all, what was a “heretic” for the classical rabbis but a Jew who rejected the divine and binding nature of Torah? Elisha didn’t believe (for various reasons that I’ll explain another time) that the Torah was written by God. He didn’t believe that he was required to follow its laws. But he still seemed to care enough about Judaism to go for a Shabbat stroll and talk Torah with his friend. If that’s a heretic, then I’m the same kind of heretic!
Why do we liberal Jews study Torah and sacred texts, if we don’t believe that God wrote them? Why do we spend time discussing and debating Jewish practices if we don’t believe they are binding laws? The answer is that, like Elisha, we understand that these texts belong to us, that they are part of our heritage, and that they invite us into conversation.
As a liberal Jew, I like to think about study as a kind of multigenerational conversation that our people have been having for a long time. We talk about all the things that matter – community, spirituality, relationships, repairing yourself and the world. The Torah, the Talmud, the Midrash, and our other sacred texts are the record of what our ancestors had to say about these matters. And when we study them, we enter into conversation with generations of our people.
That means we don’t always have to agree. We don’t have to believe that our sacred texts always get it right, even though we do have a lot to learn from them. Sometimes we see things the same way our ancestors did; other times our new insights make us to see these issues very differently. In that way, we make OUR contribution to this ongoing conversation, and we invite each other and future generations into the discussion.
So, whether you ride your horse on Shabbat or not, I’m glad you’re here for the discussion. Thanks for being part of this sacred community.