Jewish Life #19.The Nature of Man, part 2

See Blog #17 for: The Nature of Man, part 1. 

Life has many contradictions and paradoxes. According to Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, a person’s life manifests itself through two aspects of human nature which can be described by two typological categories of humanity.[1] Based on the two accounts of the creation of man in the first book of the Bible, Rabbi Soloveitchik portrays two aspects or types of man, two human ideals: Majestic Man and Covenantal Man. In Blog#17 we portrayed, the first human ideal. 
 
According to Rabbi Soloveitchik, it is preeminently the Jewish Bible which is concerned and preoccupied with human contradictions, for example, with human smallness as well as greatness, humanity’s hopes and despair, and its victories and failures. 
 
In this Blog we’ll describe the second human ideal, the archetype of Covenantal Man. For references and an in-depth analyze, see my upcoming book a Life of Meaning and Joy: in Search of Social Identity Man (Pomerantz, Q4 2024). 
 
Solitary Man Seeking Redemption
Second, man is vulnerable and lonely. He is guided by the quest for redemption. He yearns for an intimate relationship with God and his fellow man in order to overcome his sense of incompleteness and inadequacy. This root awareness of ontological uniqueness is part of human nature. As Rabbi Soloveitchik states: “Each and every person represents a small world whose value is expressed in his uniqueness and separateness.” InBereshit 2 we read: “And the eternal God formed the man of the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living soul. And the eternal God planted a garden eastward in Eden…. And the eternal God took the man and placed him in the Garden of Eden to cultivate it and to keep it.”
 
This account of the creation of man differs from the first account in the first chapter of Bereshit. Fashioned from the dust of the earth and infused with the breath of life from God, this representative of humanity, a type of mankind, appears alone, solitary. He is solitary man. He is man persona (or man humanus). 
Solitary man is, first of all, aware of his vulnerability. “Life is all mere breath, a fleeting breath,” Kohelet says. Viewed from the perspective of eternity we are nothing, no more than a fragment of pottery, a blade of grass, a flower that fades, a shadow, a cloud, a breath of wind. “He [God] remembers we are dust. Like grass are the days of mortals, who spring up like wildflowers; with a mere gust of wind they are gone, leaving no trace behind them,” says the psalmist (Ps. 103), who describes the vain and transitory nature of life. 
 
From Pirkei Avot 3:1 we learn: “Reflect upon three things.… Know where you came from, to where you are going, and before whom you are destined to give an accounting. ‘Where you came from’ – from a putrid drop; ‘to where you are going’ – to a place of dust, maggots, and worms; and ‘before whom you are destined to give an accounting’ – before the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.” ‘Remember we are dust’ we sing on Rosh Hashana during Avinu Malkenu. We are dust on the surface of infinity. Many of our works are in vain. We are never at rest until we return to the dust. 
 
          Man is founded in dust and ends in dust.
            He lays down his soul to bring home bread.
            He is like a broken shard,
            like grass dried up,
            like a faded flower,
            like a fleeting shadow,
            like a passing cloud,
            like a breath of wind,
            like a whirling dust,
            like a dream that slips away.
 
Second, solitary man is aware of his exclusiveness and personal uniqueness. His world is a world of diversity. He feels existentially insecure. He is private – hidden, mysterious, unknown even to himself. In contrast to the creative and majestic aspects of his personality, this hidden aspect represents his true personality. It’s not the sun but the moon as a representative image of this hidden essence of his personality. He is the man in the sanctuary. 
 
As has been said, this representative of humanity appears alone. His helpmate and companion, an existential partner (also unique and singular), appears subsequently. Solitary man needs a life partner, a fellow and friend: “It is not good for man to be alone (levaddo)” (Bereshit 2:18): The word levaddo has a twofold meaning: aloneness and loneliness. According to Rabbi Soloveitchik, man’s being levaddo is not good is an ontological postulate. Levaddo, ‘alone,’ in this passage denotes a state of neutrality and indifference. ‘It is not good that man should be alone’ means that it is not good for man to remain solitary in the sense that a non-personalistic life is a life in solitude, a single life. Loneliness stands in contrast to coexistence: monologue, to silence of the dialogue. 
Solitary man needs a life partner not only for a pragmatic reason, but also for an ontological reason as well. Rabbi Soloveitchik states: “Man needs help ontologically [as well]. Another homo-persona is necessary to complete man’s existence, to endow it with existential meaning and directedness.” Within an ontological community, lonely man can find completeness and legitimacy. Buber says the following about a life of dialogue: “Where the dialogue is fulfilled in its being, between partners who have turned to one another in truth, who express themselves without reserve and are free of the desire for semblance, there is brought into being a memorable common fruitfulness which is to be found nowhere else.”
 
Solitary man is introduced to his life partner with the dialectic description ezer kenegdo, literally ‘a helper against him.’ This is highlighted in Kohelet as a maxim: ‘Two are better than one’ (4:9). In the words of Rabbi Soloveitchik, “The cooperative effort is the most powerful moving force in the development of both the individual and society.”
 
In contrast to the first chapter of Bereshit, in this second chapter, next to God’s name Elokim, the tetragrammaton, pronounced “Hashem,” is used. Man encounters God with His proper name, and vice versa, in intimacy. That is why in the second chapter, where the whole story is concerned not with man-natura, cosmic man, but with man-persona, metaphysical man, with his attempt to gain an individual identity of his own, the name of Hashem is employed. As Rabbi Soloveitchik says: “The image of Hashem is reflected in human longing for the beautiful and noble, in love, in motherly tenderness and fatherly concern, in everything that is great, noble and fascinating in man.”
 
When we read the second account of creation carefully, we see the following. In contrast to his creative and majestic personality, in which partnership is attained by conquest, solitary man must surrender and retreat: ‘And the eternal God cast a deep sleep upon the man’ (Bereshit 2:21). In defeat and sacrifice he will find a life partner and is able to form a community based on covenant. This type of community is founded on commitment and loyalty (rather than just shared interests), inalienable rights of both parties, and mutual consent. Communication is key. Through communication, the two fenced-in and isolated human existences open up.
 
That said, Rabbi Soloveitchik points out an important point regarding language and communication. He states: “The word is a paradoxical instrument of communication and contains an inner contradiction. On the one hand, the word is the medium of expressing agreement and concurrence, of reaching mutual understanding, organizing cooperative effort, and united action. On the other hand, the word is also the means of manifesting distinctiveness, emphasizing incongruity, and underlining separateness. The word brings out not only what is in common in two existences but the singularity and uniqueness of each existence as well.”
 
This means that the constant oscillation between the two modes of existence can never be fully realized. Consequently, man is unable to feel totally at home in either communality and is burdened by loneliness, an ontological loneliness. The act of complete redemption is not fully realizable. We strive for harmony in the knowledge that this pursuit is at the same time futile. In Rabbi Soloveitchik’s words: “It is paradoxical yet nonetheless true that each human being lives both in an existential community, surrounded by friends, and in a state of existential loneliness and tension, confronted by strangers. In each of whom I relate as a human being, I find a friend, for we have many things in common, as well as a stranger, for each of us is unique and wholly other. This otherness stands in the way of complete mutual understanding. The gap of uniqueness is too wide to be bridged. Indeed, it is not a gap, it is an abyss.”
 
This state of affairs is tragic but at the same time willed by God, through which man is challenged to shape his own destiny in a positive way. Man is commanded to move on and to accept his nature, full of struggles, inner conflicts, and paradoxes.
 
From a Jewish perspective, the covenantal community manifests itself in a threefold union: I, thou, and He. In this account of creation man meets Him in submission and humility. He is sanctuary man. According to Rabbi Soloveitchik, this involves a change in the person himself. Sanctity liberates from within, which is a precondition for entering into and maintaining relationships. An aloof existence is transformed into a together existence. By this, we attain ontological wholeness, in the realization that ontological loneliness always remains part of our existence. In a person’s life this is one of the main paradoxes to deal with. However strong personal unions such as marriage or friendship are, the modi existentiae remain totally unique and hence incongruous at both levels, ontological and experiential. From a Jewish philosophical perspective, there is always a dichotomy of loneliness and community. Both are genuine forms of existence, while both are mutually exclusive. 
 
The aforementioned also implies the following. In contrast to his creative nature and his functional questions about the “how,” solitary man asks and wants to know “Why is it?” “What is it?” and “Who is it?” He asks, “What is the purpose of life?” He asks, “Who is God, whose life-giving and life-warming breath I feel constantly and who at the same time remains distant?” This aspect of his nature looks for the image of God “not in natural law but in every beam of light, every bud and blossom, in the morning breeze and the stillness of a starlit evening.” As a humble and submissive creature, he is longing for a living partnership with his Creator and other human beings. He finds meaning in relationships: with the Other and with human society. He must also dare to stand on his own feet and experience meaning in his uniqueness.
 
As has been said, solitary man is guided by the quest for redemption to overcome his sense of incompleteness. Life may be hard, he says, but it can still be sweet. He says, “I don’t need wealth to be rich, or power to be strong. I live for simple things: the partnership with God, love for myself, the love for my husband or wife, the bond with my children and the community, where we help others and others help us and where we learn that joy (simcha) is doubled and grief is halved by being shared.” Acts of loving-kindness (chesed) are at the core of his daily behavioral repertoire. In these partnerships lies the secret of joy (see Blog #1, Blog #4 and Blog #15).
 
Man and His Challenges
The two accounts of the creation of man portray two aspects or types of man, two human ideals: Majestic Man [Blog #17] and Covenantal Man [this Blog]. We are majestic masters of creation (Bereshit 1). But we also experience existential loneliness. We seek covenant and connection (Bereshit 2). The great challenge for a human being is to integrate these two incommensurable aspects of his nature. Man must attempt to pursue both dignity and redemption, by being creative, social, and intimate with God. Man must attempt to integrate the questions about the how, why, what, and who. This challenge to integrate both aspects of man’s nature is a tense affair (see also Blog #2). It is a life full of contradiction, paradoxes, and insecurities. That is why we ask God to confirm our work (Psalm 90). To put it simply: we need His support.
 
[1] All references in: Soloveitchik, J. B. Confrontation and Other Essays. Maggid Books, 2015; Soloveitchik, J. B. The Lonely Man of Faith. Maggid Books, 2018. 
In detail, including page etc., in my new upcoming book (A Life of Meaning and Joy: in Search of Social Identity Man. Pomerantz, Q4 2024. 

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