The Epilogue to the Decalogue: Judaism is Like a Ramp

Hey, Jews! You just received the Torah. What are you going to do next?

Well, the answer – unlike Jalen Hurts after winning the Super Bowl – is not, “Going to Disney World!”

The experience at Sinai was a big deal. The Children of Israel became a free nation upon leaving Egypt. They became Jews at Sinai when God spoke to them. That’s why the last verse of Parshat Yitro, just a few verses after the last commandment, seems so anticlimactic.

וְלֹא תַעֲלֶה בְמַעֲלֹת עַל מִזְבְּחִי אֲשֶׁר לֹא תִגָּלֶה עֶרְוָתְךָ עָלָיו:

 “Do not ascend My altar by steps, that your nakedness may not be exposed upon it.” (Shemot 20:23)

What altar? Why a ramp? What’s wrong with steps? How can we understand what I call this “Epilogue to the Decalogue?”

The simple understanding of the verse is that when walking on stairs, there is a chance for an immodest display of the body. Remember that they wore robes (like dresses) and might reveal too much leg or the like on the steps. That’s all fine based on the fashion of those times and the focus on modesty during worship. At the same time, there must be something deeper being conveyed.

The key message of the ramp is found in how it differs from steps. When walking up or down steps, one can comfortably stop. The steps provide a platform of sorts on which one doesn’t face any gravitational pull to keep going down nor exert oneself to remain in place. A ramp always requires effort. One can’t just remain in place on a ramp without fighting the gravitational pull downwards. One has to climb or else be pulled down.

The ramp teaches us that to be Jewish is to remain in motion, to exert ourselves, and to be ready for what comes next. The Torah was given to the Jews as an eternal covenant, but that doesn’t mean it is frozen and all we do is stand still. We need to keep striving to confront an ever-changing reality with effort and creativity.

Rabbi Norman Lamm wrote about the tension between the old and the new in an essay entitled “The Future of Creativity in Jewish Law and Thought” (Seventy Faces, Volume Two, pp. 3-16). He notes society’s fascination with change and all things that are new. Think of how we greet each other. Sometimes, we’ll say, “Hello,” or “How are you?” Of course, many of us simply say, “What’s new?” We are always looking for whatever is new. Rabbi Lamm calls this “neophilia,” love of the new.

At the same time, Judaism is based on tradition. We don’t just change things. In a sense, Judaism has “neophobia,” a fear of the new. Rabbi Moshe Sofer even proclaimed “Chadash asur min ha-Torah – that which is new is forbidden by the Torah.” When we talk about a brighter Jewish future, we say, “chadeish yameinu k’kedem – make things new like they were previously.” (Eicha 5:21) Even to go forward, Jews go backwards!

Judaism’s veneration of the past is balanced by our belief that Judaism must remain fresh and new. The Midrash (Sifrei Devarim 58) teaches that we should experience Judaism as if it is new each day. Rabbi Tzadok HaKohein of Lublin (Tzidkat HaTzaddik #227) taught the Jewish soul is characterized by chiddush, creativity and newness. The soul is referred to as neshama which is similar to the word neshima, breath. We call Jewish spirit ruach, which is also the word for wind or air. Just like a person needs to breathe air in and out constantly, Judaism and the Jewish soul need vitality. Reb Tzadok writes:

“This is the power of the neshama that it breathes a new divine spirit into the heart at all times by means of the mind’s chiddushim (new insights) and wisdom, telling it to perceive at all times new and vital spirituality.”

Rabbi Lamm fears Jews may be letting neophobia overwhelm our need to remain creative. He tells of a learned Rabbi presenting several practical solutions to contemporary challenges to a senior colleague for his approval and endorsement. The senior colleague responded, “I’ve studied the issues, and I agree with you, but I must withhold my support because I never heard my own teacher address these issues.”

We have a glorious tradition to use as a basis to continue climbing the ramp and not get stuck on the steps of our ancestors. As Yogi Berra used to say, “The future ain’t what it used to be.” Rabbi Lamm writes: “In some circles, anything new is looked upon with dread…If this happens, our whole intellectual mesorah from Sinai down will be derailed…”

The tradition of Sinai is one of addressing the issues as they appear, to utilize the wellspring of the past, to be inspired by the Divine revelation of the Ten Commandments and all that followed, and to then address the real-world concerns of today which are ever changing.

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik once gave a shiur. Of course, it was brilliant and innovative. Someone in the audience was surprised at some of the presentation and asked the Rav, But Rabbi Soloveitchik, what is your source?” The Rav answered, “A clear and logical mind.”

The majesty and glory of the Ten Commandments launched the Jewish nation. The epilogue to the Decalogue represents an appropriate strategy for the Jews beginning right after Sinai. It is the proper strategy for us to utilize as we strive for a meaningful relationship with God in a complex world where we think we have the answers, as we seek meaning in confusing and challenging times, and we creatively face up to the questions of today.

We cannot be afraid of proposing new and different ideas while remaining true to our tradition. A slippery slope requires sturdy shoes. We just need to keep climbing the ramp.