## 1. Life and Works




Maimonides was born to a distinguished family in Cordova, Spain in
 1138.[1]
 At that point, Cordova was under Muslim rule and stood as one of the
great intellectual centers of the world. In addition to Maimonides, it
was the birthplace of Averroes. But events took a turn for the worse
when the Almohads invaded in 1148 and offered all non-Muslims the
choice of conversion, exile, or death. Maimonides' family was forced to
leave Cordova and travel through southern Spain and arrived in Fez,
Morocco in 1160. His first philosophic work of note was the
*Treatise on the Art of Logic*. Around this time, he began work
on his first religious masterpiece, the *Commentary on the
Mishnah*, which was finished in 1168. It is noteworthy for the
emphasis Maimonides places on Oral Torah, by which he means the
details, specifications, and interpretations derived from the Written
Torah, which was revealed to Moses at Sinai.




It is also noteworthy for Maimonides' commentary on Chapter 10 of
the Mishnaic tractate *Sanhedrin*. While discussing the claim
that all Israel has a share in the world to come, Maimonides lists 13
principles that he considers binding on every Jew: the existence of
God, the absolute unity of God, the incorporeality of God, the eternity
of God, that God alone is to be worshipped, that God communicates to
prophets, that Moses is the greatest prophet, that the Torah was given
by God, that the Torah is immutable, that there is divine providence,
that there is divine punishment and reward, that there will be a
Messiah, that the dead will be
 resurrected.[2]
 This was the first attempt to introduce articles of faith
to Judaism and set off a controversy that persists to this day
(Kellner 1986, 1999).




Maimonides arrived in Egypt in 1166 and eventually settled in
Fustat, a section of Cairo. With the publication of the *Mishneh
Torah*, he established himself as a thinker for the ages. Not only
does this work systematize all the commandments of the Torah, it tries
to show that every part of Jewish law serves a rational purpose and
nothing is given for the sake of mere obedience.




Of particular note are Book One (*The Book of Knowledge*),
which sets forth the philosophic foundations of Jewish belief, a theory
of moral traits or dispositions, the need to study the Torah, the laws
concerning idolatry, and the importance of repentance. Also of note is
Book Fourteen (*Judges*), which ends by arguing that a Messiah
will come, restore sovereignty to Israel, establish peace with the
other nations, and lead the world in the study of science and
philosophy. By contrast, the Messiah will not make people rich,
introduce changes in the Torah, or be required to perform miracles.




The *Guide of the Perplexed* was completed in 1190 and
contains Maimonides' most extensive philosophic discussions. Ostensibly
a letter written to an advanced student who cannot decide whether to
follow philosophy or the teachings of his religion, it is in reality
much more: a commentary on biblical terms that appear to ascribe
corporeal qualities to God, an uncompromising defense of negative
theology, an extended critique of the kalam, a systematic treatment of
creation, prophecy, and providence, and a theory of jurisprudence.




According to Maimonides, all of Jewish law aims at two things: the
improvement of the body and the improvement of the soul. The former is
in every case a means to the latter. The soul is improved by acquiring
correct opinions and eventually knowledge on everything humans are
capable of knowing. The more knowledge the soul acquires, the more it
is able to fulfill the commandment (Deuteronomy 6:5) to love God. The
biggest stumbling block to love of God is the belief that the only way
to remain true to the Bible is to interpret it literally. The result of
literal interpretation is a material conception of God, which, in
Maimonides' opinion, amounts to idolatry.




The *Guide* has long been considered a controversial work and
in some rabbinic circles was originally banned. By rejecting literal
interpretation, it raises the question of whether Maimonides' reading
of the Torah corresponds to what the prophets understood or represents
a philosophic reconstruction that owes more to Aristotle and Alfarabi
than it does to Moses. It also raises the question of whether the real
meaning of the Torah is too controversial to be taught to the average
worshipper and should be restricted to the educated few; in short the
question of esotericism.




Maimonides' last two works of note are the *Treatise on
Resurrection*, published in 1191, and the *Letter on
Astrology*, published in
 1195.[3]
 The former was written in answer to the charge that while
he may profess belief in bodily resurrection, Maimonides did not really
hold it. The charge is not without merit given that Maimonides'
conception of the afterlife is purely intellectual and that his
naturalism makes him suspicious of miracles. He defends himself by
saying that the important issue is not whether and how resurrection
will occur but whether it is possible for it to occur. As for the
latter, once one accepts belief in creation, the possibility of bodily
resurrection follows immediately. The *Letter on Astrology* was
written at a time when many people believed that the heavenly bodies
exert influence over human events. Nevertheless, he argues that there
is no scientific basis for this belief and that it should be abandoned
even if support for it can be found in the sacred literature.




Facing ever-growing demands on his time, Maimonides worked himself
into a state of exhaustion and died in Fostat in 1204. An old saying
has it that from Moses to Moses, there was none like Moses.


## 2. Fundamental Orientation




Maimonides presents a challenge to the modern reader because his
view of truth is totally unhistorical. We saw that he was guided by the
need to systematize. Given 613 original commandments, he argues that
all are means to the fulfillment of the first two, which he interprets
as belief in the existence of God and rejection of
 idolatry.[4]
 Together these commandments make up what we call
*monotheism*. From Maimonides' perspective, however, there is
more to monotheism than belief in a single deity. To satisfy the first
two commandments, one must believe in a timeless, changeless,
immaterial deity who is one in every respect and unlike anything in the
created order. A person who fails to recognize such a deity is accorded
the status of an idolater no matter how many other commandments she may
fulfill or how fervently she may fulfill them. Simply put, to worship
God under a false description is not to worship God at all. Not only is
this true at present, as Maimonides sees it, it has been true since God
first spoke to Adam.




Early in the *Guide* (1.2), Maimonides argues that Adam is
depicted as having the most perfect metaphysical knowledge a human
being can achieve prior to his expulsion from the Garden of Eden. By
necessity this would have to include belief in a timeless, changeless,
immaterial deity. Even if the biblical text makes no mention of Adam's
theology, Maimonides thinks (*MT* 14 Kings and Wars, 9.1) it
would be impossible for someone to be this close to God and harbor a
fundamental misunderstanding. Unfortunately Adam's knowledge was lost
during the time of Enosh and had to be rediscovered by Abraham
(*MT* 1, Idolatry, 1.1-2; *GP* 3.29). Again Maimonides
thinks he is justified in saying that Abraham discovered proofs for the
existence of a God who is neither a body nor a force in a body even
though the Bible is silent on such matters. These proofs were
supposedly passed down to Isaac and Jacob but lost during the Egyptian
captivity when the Israelites adopted the pagan beliefs of their
captors.




When Moses arose to lead the people out of captivity, he faced a
serious problem. If all he did were to offer philosophic proofs again, the
people would forget them just as they had forgotten before. So instead
of offering proofs alone, he offered the blueprint for a social order
that would help the people remember their history and the principles on
which it is founded. That is why in addition to the first two
commandments, there are 611 others designed to create an environment in
which people will have the time, health, and mental facility needed to
grasp the truth of monotheism (*GP* 3.27-28).




Judaism then is based on a particular philosophy. Maimonides
(*GP* 1.71) takes this to mean that before Plato and Aristotle
introduced science and philosophy to the Greeks, the patriarchs
introduced it to Israel. To someone who asks why we have no explicit
record of their philosophy, Maimonides answers that any record of such
teaching was destroyed when Israel went into exile and suffered
persecution. So despite the appearance of a split between Jerusalem and
Athens, Maimonides thinks there is only one tradition worth preserving:
that which affirms the truth.




He makes this point in the Introduction to the *Guide* when
he says that what Jewish tradition taught under the guise of
*ma'aseh bereishit* (the account of the beginning) is what
Greeks thinkers taught as physics, while what Jewish tradition taught
under the guise of *ma'aseh merkavah* (the account of
[Ezekiel's] chariot) is what Greek thinkers taught under the guise of
metaphysics. In short, Jewish tradition has always been philosophical.
The problem is that these subjects are too difficult for the average
worshipper to grasp and must be expressed as parables or metaphors that
the educated few will interpret at one level and the average worshipper
at another (Stern 2013).




Looking at his own situation, Maimonides concludes that the
tradition of learning that began in Israel has been lost once again.
People pray to a material God and justify their actions on the basis of
literal interpretation. Someone was needed to reverse this situation
and reintroduce Jews to the teachings of their own tradition. Strictly
speaking, such truths are Jewish only in the sense that Jews were the
first to discover them. From an ethnic standpoint, they are no more
Jewish than the Pythagorean theorem is Greek.




All this goes to show that Maimonides did not conceive of progress
as we do. Although he regarded mastery of science and philosophy as
essential parts of human perfection, he did not view them as
cumulative. Rather than take us into new territory, his goal was to
reacquaint us with the territory that Moses and the patriarchs had
already staked out. The important truths do not change. Human progress
is measured by the degree to which they are identified and understood.
That is why the primary function of the Messiah will be to teach these
truths and help create conditions in which more people are able to
reflect on them.


## 3. Demythologized Religion




It is clear that the religion Maimonides envisions is not the normal
kind. He recognizes that when one is first exposed to Bible stories and
the ritual of daily prayer, one may need anthropomorphic descriptions
of God and promises of material reward. As he points out time and
again, the Torah speaks in the language of ordinary people. If it did
not, its appeal would be greatly reduced. But, Maimonides continues,
the purpose of the religion is to get one to the point where these
things cease to matter and are eventually overcome.




To take a few examples, the Bible often suggests that a prophet, or in
one case the elders of Israel, saw God (e.g., Exodus 24:10, Numbers
12:8, Isaiah 6:1-3, Ezekiel 1:26-29). Maimonides counters
(*GP* 1.4) by saying that the kind of seeing involved is
intellectual rather than visual -- as when one sees her way to
the solution of a geometry problem. By the same token, when God is
described as near or close, the Bible is not talking about physical
location but intellectual apprehension -- as when scientists say
they are close to finding a cure for a disease (*GP* 1.18). The
many places where the Bible says that God spoke to a prophet do not
indicate that God has vocal cords that produce sound but that the
prophet came to understand what God wants (*GP* 1.65). In a
more complicated way, Jacob's dream refers to the hierarchical
structure of the physical world and represents the path the
philosopher follows from knowledge of the sublunar realm to knowledge
of the spheres and awareness of the existence of God (*GP*
1.15).




Again one is inclined to ask: Is this the religion of the prophets
or a philosophically sanitized religion concocted by a medieval thinker
under the sway of Aristotle? Maimonides would reply that there is no
difference. The highest human achievement is the perfection of the
intellect (*GP* 3.27), which is impossible without the
pursuit of truth. As a sacred document, the Bible is a source of truth.
While the truths contained in the Bible may not always be apparent, we
know in principle that they are there if one wishes to dig deeply
enough. It follows that if one's interpretation ascribes to the Bible a
doctrine that is demonstrably false, such as the claim that God is
corporeal, the interpretation is incorrect no matter how simple or
straightforward it may seem. Should human knowledge advance and come up
with demonstrations it previously lacked, we would have no choice but
to return to the Bible and alter our interpretation to take account of
them (*GP* 2.24). Anything else would be intellectually
dishonest.




Where does this take us? In the Parable of the Palace (*GP*
3.51), Maimonides describes the person who enters the inner habitation
of the King as:



>  He ... who has achieved demonstration, to the
> extent that it is possible, of everything that may be demonstrated; and
> who has ascertained in divine matters, to the extent that that is
> possible, everything that may be ascertained; and who has come close to
> certainty in those matters in which one can only come close to it
> ... 




This is not just an intellectual achievement but a spiritual one as
well. In Maimonides' opinion, it is the goal to which all of the
commandments of the Torah point. There is an obvious sense of
satisfaction that goes with this, but it has nothing to do with
satisfaction material needs or "ecstasy" as normally
understood.


## 4. God and the Via Negativa




Maimonides offers several proofs for the existence of God, all of
which are versions of the cosmological argument (*GP* 2.1).
Rather than begin with a definition of God and try to show that God's
essence implies existence, he begins with a description of the world as
we know it and tries to show that it implies the existence of God.
According to one such argument, we assume that the heavenly bodies are
engaged in eternal motion. We then recognize that it is impossible for
there to be an infinite body or an infinite number of finite bodies. So
every corporeal thing is finite. If it is finite, it can only contain a
finite amount of power. If it can only contain a finite amount of
power, it can only explain motion over a finite period of time. Because
the heavenly bodies are always moving, the only thing that can explain
that motion is an infinite power. Because an infinite power cannot be
contained in a finite thing, it cannot be corporeal. If it is not
corporeal, it is not subject to division or change. Seeing that its
power is infinite, it cannot derive that power from something else.
Thus the only way to explain the motion of the heavenly bodies is to
posit the existence of a being that is neither a body nor a force in a
body.




Although Maimonides thinks this argument gives us sufficient grounds
for saying *that* God is, he does not think it provides any
grounds for saying *what* God is. To see why not, we have to
recognize that God is not one in a way comparable to anything else: one
person, one number, one idea. According to *Guide* 1.51:



>  There is no oneness at all except in believing that
> there is one simple essence in which there is no complexity or
> multiplicity of notions, but one notion only; so that from whatever
> angle you regard it and from whatever point of view you consider it,
> you will find that it is one, not divided in any way and by any cause
> into two notions ... 




If Maimonides is right, there can be no plurality of faculties,
moral dispositions, or essential attributes in God. Even to say that
God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-good is to introduce
plurality, if one means thereby that these qualities are separate
attributes. The same is true if we say that God is a composite of
matter and form, genus and specific difference, or essence and
accident. All introduce plurality where none can be tolerated.




Aside from religious considerations, plurality is objectionable
because it compromises logical priority. If God were a composite of
*F* and *G*, some reason would have to be found for what
brought them together and keeps them together. In short, if God were a
composite, there would have to be a cause prior to God, which is absurd
(*GP* 2. Intro., premise 21). For the same reason, God cannot be
subsumed under a wider concept as *man* is subsumed under
*animal* (*GP* 1.52). Once God fell under a genus, there
would be something prior to or more inclusive than God, either of which
is absurd. Without a genus or a minimal form of composition, there is
no possibility of defining God and thus no possibility of saying what
God is. Even superlatives are of no help. To say that God is the wisest
or most powerful thing in the universe is still to subsume God under a
wider description.




Worse, to say that God is the wisest or most powerful thing is to
imply that God's wisdom or power bears some likeness to ours. This
Maimonides firmly denies (*GP* 1.56-57). The power manifested by
a body is finite and can be measured in foot/pounds. No matter how
powerful it is, we can easily imagine something whose power is greater.
What is more, if we are talking about the power of a body, it always
makes sense to ask from what it derives its power or how its power is
related to something else, e.g. its goodness. None of this is true of
God. Maimonides therefore concludes (*GP* 1.56) that it is
*not* true to say that God's power is greater than ours, that
God's life is more permanent than ours, than God's knowledge is broader
than ours, or that God's will is more universal than ours, if that
means that God can be put on the same scale as something else, that God
is a bigger, stronger, better version of something in the created
order.




Does that mean that statements like "God lives" or
"God is powerful" are nonsense? The answer is yes if one
insists on interpreting them as normal subject/predicate propositions.
But they can be understood if one analyzes them as disguised negations.
Thus "God is powerful" should be taken as "God is not
lacking in power." Maimonides' appeal to negation (*GP*
1.58) is often misunderstood because in normal speech a double negative
usually indicates a positive. If I say that this dog is not lacking in
the power of sight, you would be justified in concluding that it can
see for the simple reason that sight is a power normally associated
with dogs. What Maimonides has in mind is a more extreme form of
negation. Thus "God is powerful" means "God does not
lack power *or* possess it in a way that makes it comparable to
other things." Can God do something like move a book off a shelf?
Yes, to the extent that God does not lack power but no to the extent
that God does not have to move muscles, summon energy, or receive a
supply of food or fuel. The power to create the whole universe is so
far beyond that needed to move a book that any comparison cannot help
but mislead.




From an epistemological standpoint, a statement like "God is
powerful" is objectionable in so far as it implies that we have
insight into the essence of God. The advantage of the negative
formulation is that it implies nothing of the sort. To say that God
does not lack power or possess it in a way comparable to other things
is to say that God's power is beyond our comprehension. And similarly
for God's life, wisdom, unity, or will. Thus most of the terms we use
to describe God are completely equivocal as between God and us. There
is then no reason to think that every time we praise God, we are
identifying a separate part of the divine persona and comparing it to
something else.




As severe as Maimonides' position is, even this is not enough.
Although negation is preferable to affirmation, even negation is
objectionable to the degree that it introduces complexity: God is
neither this nor that. What then? Maimonides' reply (*GP* 1.58)
is that ultimately any kind of verbal expression fails us. Rather than
provide a precise metaphysical account of the nature of God, the
purpose of theological discourse is heuristic: to "conduct the
mind toward the utmost reach that man may attain in the apprehension of
Him." Theological language is important to the degree that it
eliminates error and sets us along the path of recognizing God's
transcendence. Unless one could speak about God, she could easily fall
into the trap of thinking that God is corporeal. But in the end, the
only thing it reveals is that God is beyond the reach of any
subject/predicate proposition. Thus *GP* 1.59:



>  Know that when you make an affirmation ascribing
> another thing to Him, you become more remote from Him in two respects:
> one of them is that everything You affirm is a perfection only with
> reference to us, And the other is that He does not possess a thing
> other than His essence ... 




Citing Psalm 65, Maimonides concludes that the highest form of
praise we can give God is silence.




Maimonides knows (*GP* 3.32) that a religion based entirely
on silent reflection would never succeed, and insists that daily prayer
is mandatory (*MT* 2, Prayer, 1.1). His point is that the
qualities mentioned in prayer are either negations or descriptions of
the effects of divine activity; in no case do they provide knowledge of
God's essence. To illustrate this point, he asks us to consider
the effect of fire on various things that could be put before it. It
would soften wax, harden clay, blacken sugar, and whiten other things.
This does not mean that fire *is* soft, hard, black, and white
simultaneously but that it has these effects on various things.




Applying this analogy to God, we can say that God is merciful to the
extent that the order of nature (what God created) exhibits merciful
characteristics and angry to the extent that it is harsh toward things
that do not take proper care of themselves. The point is not that God
possesses emotions similar to ours but that the effects of God's
actions resemble the effects of ours. Maimonides refers to these
qualities as *attributes of action* and identifies them with the
goodness God revealed to Moses at Exodus 33. In that passage, God
refuses to let Moses see the divine face (which Maimonides identifies
with essence) but allows him to see God's backside (which Maimonides
identifies with the consequences or effects that flow from God). We can
therefore praise God as long as we realize that all such praise is
indirect and leaves God's essence undescribed and unknowable.


## 5. Creation




Throughout the *Guide*, Maimonides considers four accounts of
creation: that of the kalam, Moses, Plato, and Aristotle. He rejects
the kalam account (*GP* 1.71-73) according which one
demonstrates that the universe must have been created and then reasons
that if it was created, it must have a creator. Like Thomas Aquinas,
Maimonides believes it is impossible to show by logical considerations
alone either that the universe was created or that it is eternal.
Though Maimonides says he believes in creation, he admits one can do no
more than tip the scales in this direction. As of *Guide* 2.13,
he limits his discussion to the theories of Moses, Plato, and
Aristotle.




Unfortunately Maimonides' characterizations of these alternatives
are neither precise nor historically accurate (Seeskin 2005). Suffice
it to say that his treatment of them is mainly thematic. Briefly
stated, they are:




|  |  |
| --- | --- |
| Moses: | the world was created *de novo* and entirely *ex
nihilo*. |
| Plato: | the world was created *de novo* from a preexisting material
substrate. |
| Aristotle: | the world is eternal and its existence is best understood as eternal
information of matter. |




Based on his explicit remarks, Maimonides prefers the theory of
Moses but allows one to hold that of Plato as a reasonable alternative.
But there has always been a school of thought that maintains that he is
secretly committed to the view of Aristotle (Harvey 1981). My own
position is with those who argue that Maimonides' explicit remarks are
an accurate account of his view and that all the arguments he offers
point in that direction (Davidson 1979, Feldman 1990, Hyman 1988,
Wolfson 1973).




The historical Aristotle did argue that the world is eternal and
that whatever is eternal is necessary [*On Generation and
Corruption* 338a1-4, *Physics* 203b 29, *Metaphysics*
1050b8-15]. His medieval followers took this to mean that while the
world is ontologically dependent on God, there is no moment when it
first comes to be and therefore does not owe its existence to a
decision to create. As we might say, it exists not because of anything
God does but simply because of what God is. Because God's nature does
not change, according to this position, neither does the existence or
fundamental structure of the world. The most important consequence of
this view is that God does not exercise free choice, which is to say
that according to the Aristotelian alternative, the world is governed
by necessity.




The standard arguments in favor of this position take one of two
approaches: either they show that there is something inherent in the
nature of the world that makes creation impossible or that there is
something inherent in the nature of God that does. An example of the
former is that change always proceeds from something to something else,
as when a chicken springs from an egg or an acorn develops into a full
grown oak tree. If this is true, it is impossible for something to come
to be from nothing (*ex nihilo*). An example of the latter is
that if God is perfect, it makes no sense to suppose that God could
ever do anything new such as bring the world into being.




Maimonides' answer to the first argument (*GP* 2.17) is that
given the world as we know it, change does proceed from one thing to
something else. But why should we assume the creation of the world has
to follow the same pattern? An account of creation is a theory of
origin, how a thing comes to be initially. By contrast, an account of
change is a theory of development or alteration, how one existing thing
emerges into another. For all we know, the origin of a thing may be
completely different from its development later on. Thus it is
presumptuous to suppose that we can extrapolate from our experience of
the world as it is at present to the moment of its creation. It follows
that the first argument against creation is not decisive, which means
that creation remains a possibility.




Maimonides' answer to the second argument (*GP* 2.18) is that
in a perfect being, willing something new need not imply change. If I
will today to take a trip tomorrow and events intercede to spoil my
plans, I may have to change my mind, but to suppose that something
analogous happens to God is absurd. Assume I will today to do something
tomorrow independent of external circumstances -- to think about the
numerical characteristics of pi. And assume that when tomorrow comes, I
do exactly as planned. While I would be undertaking something new, to
the degree that I had intended to do it all along, it would be
misleading to say that I underwent a change. Certainly I did not
undergo a change of mind.




Maimonides takes this to mean that it is possible for a being not
affected by external circumstances to will something new as long as it
is part of his original intention. This is sometimes expressed by
saying that changing one's will is not the same as willing change. So
once again, the argument against creation is not decisive.




Maimonides is aware that all his arguments establish is the
possibility of creation, not its actuality. To go further, and argue
for the actuality of creation, he returns to the claim that everything
that is eternal is necessary. If it could be shown that there are
features of the world that are not necessary, it would follow that the
world must have been created. Here Maimonides challenges Aristotle and
his followers on the issue of astronomy.




Medieval Aristotelians believed as follows. God thinks and manifests
self-awareness. Because God is one and simple, what emerges from God
must be one and simple as well. In this way, God generates the first
heavenly intelligence. According to Alfarabi, because the first
intelligence is aware of two things -- itself and God -- it
is capable of generating two things: the second heavenly intelligence
and the outermost sphere of the universe. By contrast, Avicenna held
that because the first intelligence is aware of God and duality in
itself, it generates three things. The difference need not concern us
here. The important point is that God's production of the outermost
sphere is indirect; the immediate cause is the activity of the first
intelligence. The process continues until we get the ten intelligences
and nine primary spheres that make up the standard picture of medieval
cosmology.




Maimonides criticizes this account in two ways. First if the
originator of a causal sequence is one and simple, there is no way for
complexity to arise, and everything else in the sequence should be one
and simple as well (*GP* 2.22). Even if the sequence contains
thousands of members, there is no way to account for the complexity of
a celestial sphere, which is a composite of matter and form. When we
get to the inner spheres, we have to account for even more because not
only is there the sphere itself but the stars or planets attached to
it. They too are composites of matter and form. How can we have such
complexity if we start with something that is radically one?




Second, there are features of the heavenly bodies that defy
scientific explanation and thus appear to be contingent in the sense
that they were chosen rather than necessitated (*GP* 2.19-24).
If the outer spheres impart motion to the inner ones, we would expect
spherical motion to slow as we move closer to the earth. But this is
hardly the case. As Maimonides points out (*GP* 2.19):




We see that in case of some spheres, the swifter of motion is above
the slower; that in the case of others, the slower of motion is above
the swifter; and that, again in another case, the motions of the
spheres are of equal velocity though one be above the other. There are
also other very grave matters if regarded from the point of view these
things are as they are in virtue of necessity.




If there is no explanation for why the spheres behave in this
fashion, or why some stars and planets emit more light than others, or
why some regions of the heavens are relatively crowded while others are
empty, there is no reason to think the phenomena in question are what
they are by virtue of necessity. If there is no necessity, there are no
grounds for eternity. The alternative is to say that God created the
world as a result of a free choice and fashioned it in a particular
way.




Maimonides recognizes (*GP* 2.24) that his argument does not
constitute a demonstration. Just because science cannot explain
something now, it does not follow that it will never be able to explain
it. As he himself admits, science can and does make progress. But in
the case of the heavenly bodies, he thought progress very unlikely.
Because they too far away to make close observations, and too high in
rank, we can only rely on inferences based on accidental qualities
size, speed, and direction. As long as this is true, we will never know
their essential natures and will never be able to support claims of
necessity. As long as this is true, creation, though not demonstrated,
will always be preferable to eternity.




Maimonides (*GP* 2.25) also offers a practical reason for
believing in creation: How can a God without free will issue
commandments? Beyond this there is a textual reason: belief in creation
does less violence to scripture than belief in eternity. He concludes
that the theory of Moses offers the best alternative, while that of
Plato, which retains the idea of creation *de novo*, is
acceptable. Though some people fault Maimonides for not coming up with
a stronger argument on behalf of Moses, he would reply by saying that
given the limits of our knowledge, this is the strongest argument we
can expect. Although Maimonides is often seen as part of the
Aristotelian tradition, and often expresses praise for Aristotle, his
account of creation indicate that he is willing to depart from
Aristotle when he thinks the arguments lead in that direction.


## 6. Practical Philosophy




We have already seen that for Maimonides the highest perfection is
intellectual and consists in ascertaining in divine matters everything
that can be ascertained. Proper behavior, whether for the individual or
the community, is a means to this end (*GP* 3.27). On a
political level, this means that the state must do more than protect
life and property; it must see to it that all its citizens are educated
in religious matters and that a small number achieve mastery
(*GP* 2.40). On a personal level, it means that morality is not
an end in itself but a way of controlling the passions and creating an
atmosphere in which science and philosophy can flourish (*GP*
3.8). While intellectual perfection is oriented to truth and falsity
and aims at demonstration, moral perfection is oriented to good and bad
and rests on commonly accepted opinions.




Accordingly Adam was blessed with perfect metaphysical knowledge in
the Garden of Eden but still did not know that it is wrong not to cover
one's genitals. Although this knowledge cannot be known with scientific
precision, it does not follow that it is arbitrary. On the contrary, it
is among the most basic customs one can imagine. Maimonides expresses
this point (*GP* 2.40) by saying that revealed law
"although it is not natural, enters into what is natural."
I take this to mean that unlike scientific truth, law presupposes a
social context and a sense of shame. In Maimonides' opinion, it still
needs to be studied in detail. Thus the quote continues: "It is a
part of the wisdom of the deity with regard to the permanence of this
species."




Maimonides' practical philosophy begins with *Eight
Chapters*, an introduction to his commentary on the tractate
*Pirkei Avot* and part of his *Commentary on the
 Mishnah*.[5]
 In concert with Plato and Aristotle, he holds that like the body, the
soul can be diseased or healthy. Just as those with sick bodies seek a
physician, those with sick souls need to seek the wise rulers, who are
physicians of the soul. Not surprisingly major portions of his work
attempt to show that Jewish law is based on a thorough understanding
of the soul and the conditions needed for its perfection. Chief among
them is the attainment of a mean between extremes. In *Eight
Chapters* 3, he writes: "The virtues are states of the soul
and settled dispositions in the mean between two bad states, one of
which is excessive, the other deficient." Later, in the first
book of the *Mishneh Torah* (1, Character Traits, 1.4), he
follows up by saying: "The right way is the mean in every one of
a person's character traits."




Like Aristotle, Maimonides recognizes there will be variations from
one person to another and that sometimes a person may have to overshoot
the mean for therapeutic reasons (*Eight Chapters* 4 and
*MT* 1, Character Traits, 2.2). Also like Aristotle, he stresses
that virtue is a habit that can only be developed by practice. A wise
ruler will therefore prescribe actions and moral habits that must be
repeated until they are no longer burdensome and become part of a
person's character. If a person develops the wrong habits and goes to
excess, the ruler "must follow the same course in treating it as
in the medical treatment of bodies," which is to reestablish
equilibrium ("Eight Chapters" 4).




Maimonides claims his theory is sound in its own right and can be
distilled from the sayings of the prophets and sages. He offers Psalm
19:8 ("The law of the Lord is perfect, restoring the soul; the
testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple") as
evidence that the Bible recognizes the idea of psychic health and
disease. He also connects adherence to the mean with the doctrine of
*imitatio Dei* (imitation of God), by arguing that (*GP*
2.28): "The works of the deity are most perfect, and with regard
to them there is no possibility of an excess or a deficiency." As
God governs nature, so Maimonides thinks, the wise ruler will attempt
to govern society.




It is true, as Maimonides says many times, that Jewish law does not
ask people to live as hermits, starve themselves, beat themselves, or
jeopardize their health. Though it allows for a category of extremists
in the laws dealing with the Nazirite, Maimonides is right to say that
it treats the Nazirite with suspicion ("Eight Chapters" 4).
The qualities that really matter are good judgment, kindness, and
compassion -- all things Maimonides explains by going back to the
doctrine of the mean. People are asked to give to charity, honor their
parents, refrain from certain sexual relations, not hate or take
vengeance, and not eat certain foods in order establish a moderate
disposition. By the same token, the holidays are arranged so that some
involve rejoicing while others involve moderate forms of self-denial.
In no case does the law require anything for the sake of obedience
alone.




Maimonides points out there are cases where the analogy between body
and soul breaks down, in particular the fact that legal reasoning is
different from medical reasoning. The physician does not treat the
concept humanity but the particular person who comes to her. But this
is not true of the law, which, in Maimonides' opinion (*GP*
3.34), treats the general case and pays no attention to rarities. That
is why the law is not dependent on time and place but tries to
establish a standard that is absolute and universal. To take a modern
example, the law prescribes a limit to the amount of alcohol a person
can have in his blood and still be able to drive. Undoubtedly there are
variations among individuals that allow one person with a certain
amount of alcohol to be much more alert than another. But it is not the
purpose of the law to take these differences into account. All it can
do is set a norm and enforce it equally.




Still anyone familiar with Maimonides will see that acceptance of
the mean is hard to reconcile with other aspects of his thought. When
he describes God as governor of the universe balancing justice with
mercy, the doctrine of the mean makes good sense; when he describes God
as lacking emotion and incomparable to anything in the created order,
it does not. Similarly, when he describes prophets as law-givers, the
mean is an appropriate standard; when he describes them as people who
begrudge the time they spend with others and prefer to contemplate God
alone in silent meditation (*GP* 3.51), it fails.




Much has been written on which of these approaches represents
Maimonides' real view (Fox 1990, Davidson 1987, Schwarzschild 1990).
Fortunately we do not have to survey all of this literature because the
problem arises in the space of a few paragraphs in *MT* 1,
Character Traits, 1.4-6. Unlike "Eight Chapters," where the
only justification for overshooting the mean is therapeutic, this
passage recognizes that there are times when deviation from the mean
represents a higher standard. As Maimonides puts it, a person whose
character traits are balanced can be called wise (*hakham*),
while a person who goes beyond the mean when circumstances warrant is
known as pious (*hasid*):



>  Whoever moves away from a haughty heart to the opposite
> extreme so that he is exceedingly lowly in spirit is called pious; this
> is the measure of piety. If someone moves only to the mean and is
> humble, he is called wise; this is the measure of wisdom. The same
> applies to all the rest of the character traits. The pious of old used
> to direct their character traits from the middle way toward one of the
> two extremes; some character traits toward the last extreme, and some
> toward the first extreme. This is the meaning of "inside the line
> of the law" [i.e. going beyond the letter of the law].
> 




Piety then involves going beyond the mean to a higher standard. In
this connection Maimonides cites Numbers 12:3, which does not say that
Moses was meek but that he was *very* meek.




Similar remarks apply to Maimonides' analysis of anger. For
Aristotle [*Nicomachean Ethics* 1125b31-1126a8] a person should
be praised for being angry with the right people in the right way and
at the right time. A person who allows himself to be abused by insults
without getting angry lacks feeling and behaves in a manner that is
slavish. Virtue is worthy of honor. Just as it is wrong to ask for too
much, it is equally wrong to ask for too little.




With respect to anger, Maimonides disagrees, claiming (*MT*
1, Character Traits, 2.3) it is "an extremely bad character
trait" and that "it is proper for someone to move away from
it to the other extreme and to teach himself not to be angry, even over
something it is proper to be angry about" (Frank 1990). For
Aristotle meekness indicates a loss of self-esteem; for Maimonides it
is not *a* virtue but virtue par excellence. By ascribing it to
Moses, he implies that it represents the highest level a person can
achieve.




A similar sentiment is expressed earlier in the *Mishneh
Torah* (1, Basic Principles, 4. 12), when Maimonides discusses the
need to study physics and metaphysics. He concludes with praise for
those who are lowly of spirit:



> When a man reflects on these things, studies all these
> created beings, from the angels and spheres down to human beings and so
> on, and realizes the divine wisdom manifested in them all, his love for
> God will increase, his soul will thirst, his very flesh will yearn to
> love God. He will be filled with fear and trembling, as he becomes
> conscious of his lowly condition, poverty, and insignificance, and
> compares himself with any of the great and holy bodies; still more when
> he compares himself with any one of the pure forms that are incorporeal
> and have never had association with any corporeal substance. He will
> then realize that he is a vessel full of shame, dishonor, and reproach,
> empty and deficient. 




It is not that Maimonides has abandoned the idea that nature avoids
excess or deficiency but that he seems to be saying the highest level
of human excellence sometimes requires an extreme. Thus Moses went
without water for forty days and nights when he was alone on the
mountain and attained such a high level of concentration that in
Maimonides opinion "all the gross faculties in the body ceased to
function." Seen in this light, the highest goal is not practical
wisdom in the Aristotelian sense but humility, awe, and shame in the
presence of God.




In other places, Maimonides argues that our goal should not be to
moderate emotion but to rise above it. We saw that God is not subject
to emotion. Maimonides takes this to mean that the ideal state is one
in which a person acts in a completely dispassionate way deciding cases
on their merit without recourse to feeling. While such a person must
still make the appropriate judgment, there will be no character trait
or disposition from which it springs. According to *Guide*
1.54:



> It behooves the governor of a city, if he is a prophet,
> to acquire similarity to these attributes [jealousy, hatred, or anger],
> so that these actions may proceed from him according to a determined
> measure and according to the deserts of the people who are affected by
> them and not merely because of his following a passion. He should not
> let loose the reins of anger nor let passion gain mastery over him, for
> all passions are evil; but, on the contrary, he should guard against
> them as far as this lies within the capacity of man. Sometimes, with
> regard to some people, he should be merciful and gracious, not out of
> mere compassion and pity, but in accordance with what is fitting.
> 




In the treatise on Character Traits, he admits that there may be
times when it is necessary for a person to show anger, but insists that
inwardly she should remain completely tranquil.




What happened to balance and the idea of mental health? The answer
is that while they are still valuable, they are not ends in themselves.
Throughout his rabbinic and philosophic works, Maimonides insists
(*MT* 1, Character Traits, 3.1) that it is impossible to love
God and achieve the highest levels of concentration if one is sick,
undisciplined, or living in fear of bodily harm. But in the end, moral
perfection is only a necessary condition for intellectual
perfection.




Like Plato, Maimonides believes in the therapeutic effects of
philosophy. In the last chapter of the *Guide* (3.54), he claims
that philosophy teaches that most of the things to which people direct
their lives are "nothing but an effort with a view to something
purely imaginary, to a thing that has no permanence." Just as Job
came to see that the things he once valued are unimportant, philosophy
teaches us to give up our obsession with money, garments, and land and
focus attention on the eternal.




In the end, the relation between moral and intellectual virtue is
more complicated than Maimonides first presents. It is not just that
the former is a means to the latter but that after the latter is
achieved, after one comes to see that earthly goods are fleeting and
ultimately unsatisfying, his behavior will undergo a transformation:
rather than aim for a moderate amount of earthly goods, he will forgo
them and spend as much time as possible in a state of awe and
reverence, where the distinction between moral and intellectual
perfection may even break down.


## 7. Esotericism




Since the publication of the *Guide*, scholars have struggled
with a thorny issue: whether to take Maimonides' words at face value or
whether to take them as hints or clues pointing to a hidden or deeper
meaning (Ravitzky 1981, 1990, 2005; Strauss 1952). By rejecting
literal interpretation and playing down the importance of miracles, he
knew he was taking a controversial stand. As he notes in the
Introduction to the *Guide*, Jewish law prohibits one from
discussing esoteric matters like the Account of the Beginning or the
Account of the Chariot in public. The idea is that these matters should
only be discussed with an advanced student capable of finding the truth
on her own. In Maimonides' view, both the Bible and the rabbinic
commentaries that grew up around it are esoteric in the sense that the
real meaning is often different from the surface or apparent meaning.
The reason for this is that the people who read them have different
levels of comprehension. But Maimonides goes further, saying that in
some cases it is necessary for an author to contradict himself.




Of the seven reasons for using contradictions, Maimonides says he
will avail himself of two. The first is relatively unproblematic:
sometimes it is necessary for a teacher to say one thing to reach a
student's level of understanding and say something else when the
student becomes more advanced. The second is more troublesome: on very
obscure matters, it is necessary to launch a discussion that proceeds
according to one assumption and later launch one that proceeds
according to another. He then adds: "In such cases the vulgar
must in no way be aware of the contradiction; the author accordingly
uses some device to conceal it by all means."




This raises several questions. (1) Does Maimonides employ
contradictions of the troublesome variety? (2) If so, where? (3) Of two
contradictory discussions, which represents his view? In the
twentieth century, Leo Strauss argued that contradictions are central
to understanding the *Guide* and that the more evidence
Maimonides presents for a particular view, the less likely it is that
he held it (Strauss 1952). There is general agreement that
Maimonides' writing is esoteric to the degree that he addresses
difficult topics and does not put everything he has to say on a
particular topic in any one place. The question is whether his
esotericism goes deeper than this. We saw for example that he
criticizes Aristotle's on the eternity of the world. Does this mean
that he believed in creation or that if you strip away the surface
meaning, he is really committed to eternity? As often happens, one
question leads to another: Do we settle the matter by examining the
strength of his arguments or by looking for hidden clues? Of late the
esotericist reading appears to be losing favor (Davidson 2005, Ivry
1991, Manekin 2005, Ravitzky 2005, Seeskin 2000).


## 8. Conclusion




How one assesses Maimonides' philosophy depends on one's own
philosophic view. For a traditional theist like Aquinas, he is right to
say that there are issues, e.g. creation, that cannot be resolved by
demonstration and to insist that all attempts to anthropomorphize God
are misguided. The problem is that in rejecting anthropomorphism, he
may have gone too far. If God bears no likeness to the created order,
and if terms like *wise*, *powerful*, or *lives*
are completely ambiguous when applied to God and us, the conception of
divinity we are left with is too thin for the average worshipper to
appreciate.




For a naturalist like Spinoza, Maimonides is too willing to dismiss
science and take refuge in traditional concepts like creation and
divine volition. Granted that medieval astronomy did not have a good
explanation of planetary motion; with the advent of the scientific
revolution, it found one - at least in Spinoza's opinion.
If Maimonides were to remain true to his word and accept the strongest
argument wherever it leads, as far as Spinoza's is concerned, he
would have to embrace the new science, the eternity of the world, and
the necessity of every event that takes place in it. In order to do
this, he would have to abandon the idea that the Bible is a source of
philosophic and scientific truth and look to it only for the light it
sheds on how to live. Needless to say, this would be a disaster for
Maimonides.




Even if Maimonides were to make this move and read the Bible for its
ethical content, problems would remain. Maimonides is an elitist.
Closeness to God is measured by how much knowledge one acquires. The
result is that people whose situations prevent them from pursuing
advanced studies cannot be close to God or love God. Whether it is
right or wrong, this view offends modern sensibilities, which are much
more democratic.




Finally for an atheist, Maimonides' philosophy shows us what happens
if you remove all anthropomorphic content from your conception of God:
you remove all content of any kind. In the end, you are left with a God
whose essence is unknowable and indescribable. Of what possible value is
such a conception either to philosophy or religion?




At his trial for impiety in 399 B.C., Socrates was asked how it is
that the wisest person in Athens claims to be ignorant of the
knowledge he seeks. His answer (*Apology* 23a-b) is that he is
wise because unlike others, he recognizes that when measured against
divine wisdom, human wisdom is of little or no value. Although it is
doubtful that he read Socrates' words, there is little question that
this is the insight Maimonides is trying to preserve. That person is
wisest who recoils in awe and humility in the face of something
infinitely greater than he or she can fathom. This insight explains
why, despite his best efforts, Maimonides was unable to find airtight
demonstrations for many of his insights about God, creation, and
revelation and is often content just to tip the scales in one
direction or present an honest assessment of the problem. In a recent
work, Alfred Ivry (2016, 4) contends that Maimonides himself is
one of the perplexed for whom the *Guide* was written.



Viewed in a sympathetic light, Maimonides' elitism stems
from the recognition that few people will be satisfied with this.
Although not everyone in the history of philosophy would agree, there
is no question that Maimonides' view has a long history and remains a
powerful alternative.