“Contradictioriness within a thing is the fundamental cause of its development” – Mao Zedong, On Contradiction
“Turn it and turn it again, for everything is in it” - Pirkei Avot 5:22
Marxism (or scientific socialism) and religion are often portrayed as diametric opposites. Surely the materialist philosophy of Marxism, based on the scientific method, is at odds with spiritual, irrational, and faith-based religion. But one’s personal beliefs and practices need not be exactly the same as one’s political vision for the world, and neither, for that matter, should be stagnant, dogmatic or inflexible. And the dialectical method, developed ever since the beginning of philosophy but most notably by the German idealist philosopher Hegel, is a crucial tool for understanding not only the world around us, but also our own way of perceiving and interpreting it. It was Marx, after all, who in his oft-quoted Theses on Feuerbach, set out his mission of using the interpretation of philosophers as a call to action.
The dialectical method, to put it simply, claims that the world is constantly changing, in a constant state of conflict between opposites. Jewish theology claims that the world is created anew every morning, and by reciting the Modeh Ani blessing on waking, the observant Jew thanks God for returning their soul. Thus, religion reconciles the idea that the world is constantly changing, visible to anyone who’s ever observed the growth of a plant for example. There is both visible and invisible change; qualitative (change in state, an ice cube melting into water) and quantitative (the gradual change in temperature that leads to the melting of the ice cube). And the ‘constant state of conflict’ shouldn’t be misinterpreted as some kind of Manichean struggle between good and evil or an eternal fight between God and Satan, rather these contradictions are internal, much like the Jewish idea of the ‘dual inclinations’ – the ‘yetzer hara’ towards ‘evil’ or desire, and the ‘yetzer ha-tov’ towards righteousness or justice. Resolving this conflict allows us to grow, an act of free will that makes the good action much more valuable than if we had never had the choice at all. The primary dialectic in Marxism is, arguably, class conflict, the resolution of which will lead to justice for all. And the religious community acknowledges the idea that an individual striving for righteousness will only get us so far, we need to work in conjunction to bring about a better society, however that may be.
This kind of philosophy, one of constant growth and questioning, is beneficial to everyone with a significantly-held belief. Your faith is only strengthened by challenging it. As Shmuel Sperber put it, “ Religion offers answers without obliterating the questions. They become blunted and will not attack you with the same ferocity. But without them the answer would dry up and wither away. The question is a great religious act; it helps you live great religious truth.” Mao Zedong, in his On Contradiction, makes a similar point about the Communist Party (whether you feel he actually implemented this philosophy or not is irrelevant): “If there were no contradictions in the Party and no ideological struggles to resolve them, the Party's life would come to an end.”
Every philosophy needs a source, and the theoretical works of religion are its sacred texts. I will focus here on the Bible, my particular area of expertise, but I believe similar remarks could be made about any holy source. The Bible was expertly designed by God to communicate a message to its recipients, utilising a range of literary techniques and styles ranging from military history, romantic poetry, narrative and even surveys to express a divine teaching (or teachings). It was designed to be an eternal text, one to be studied from generation to generation as a rich inheritance, maintaining its sanctity and significance. Regardless of your personal belief, you have to acknowledge that the Bible is the single most influential text of all time, colouring many of the most important parts of ancient and modern history. This is because of its variety, allowing it to speak to everyone in a different way – everyone comes to God with their own background, their own interests, and their own beliefs. The Bible should be uniting, not enforcing conformity but rather encouraging disagreement – as the Talmud states, arguments for the sake of heaven will endure. Its use of juxtaposition, contradiction, and ambiguity, allows for greater discussion. No book exists without some form of conflict, not even the simplest children’s books – conflict is what engages the brain, forcing us to think critically and analyse the situation in order to resolve it. God cannot be comprehended in any single way, as He is beyond human knowledge and reason. Thus, we can’t enforce any single way of understanding God – His Teaching is what He has given us, and we must reckon with it, wrestling with it like Jacob wrestled with the angel, giving him the name ‘Israel’. We are to embrace these contradictions to create some kind of divine Synthesis, an attempt to reach otherwise impossible Knowledge. This is the way that the Bible teaches us how to live - by first teaching us how to think.
Maimonides, in his concept of negative theology, acknowledges that antithesis (the 2nd stage in the dialectical method, the contradiction) is key to our understanding of God. We cannot seek to understand what God is, only what God isn’t. We know God isn’t animal, but we can’t describe what God ‘looks like’ or ‘consists of’. In fact, it’s impossible to reach any kind of understanding of God using terms like these. Our human language is incapable of doing so. As God is Everything, Infinity, we can only express this totality through juxtaposition. Quoting Isaiah 45:7: “I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.”
The most relatable parts of the Bible are its narratives, as storytelling is one of the best ways to appeal to human sensibilities. The story of Jephthah’s vow, in which he seemingly sacrifices his daughter after a military victory, is on the surface one that is shocking, an example of the ‘gruesome Old Testament’ that some Christians disdain so much. Murder, and even sacrifice, is something that occurs in the real world, and as the Bible is our teacher to understand the real world, this is key. Stories like these encourage us to go deeper, beyond the ‘peshat’, or plain meaning, of the text. For example, delving into the grammar of Jephthah’s strangely worded vow and the events after it, it’s possible to conclude that Jephthah’s daughter was never killed after all. Instead, the story is a celebration, as well as a lamentation, of womanhood outside of the family unit or heterosexual relationship, one that was very uncommon in Biblical times (but is also arguably reflected in the story of Ruth). Another story that has been reinterpreted in modern times is that of David and Jonathan, their intense love being seen as a homosexual attraction. In fact, it’s difficult to argue against it, David describing it as ‘extraordinary, surpassing the love of a woman’ (2 Samuel 1:26) and Jonathan loving David ‘more than his own soul’ (1 Samuel 18:1). Personally, I see this as a greater encouragement of homosexuality than the passages allegedly condemning it, such as Leviticus 18:22 (a theme I’ll expand on another time, again using the Hebrew grammar to go beyond the restrictions of English translations). Self-righteous believers should turn to Balaam’s blessing in Numbers 23:8 - “But how can I curse those whom God has not cursed? How can I condemn those whom the LORD has not condemned?” The Bible, as an eternal text, should have different meaning for every reader, and should continue to evolve with the times, encouraging differential readings that allow everyone to see themselves in it. It is a sourcebook, constantly renewing itself, never old or outmoded despite being ancient. It is used as both a weapon and an olive branch, but never as a dusty, insignificant tome.