Studies in the Meaning of Judaism (JPS Scholar of Distinction Series)

23 / Dynamic Sunyata and the God Whose Glory Fills the Universe

23 / Dynamic Sunyata and the God Whose Glory Fills the Universe My response to Prof. Masao Abe is divided into two disparate yet related sections. The first, though lengthier and theologically more substantive, is intimately, perhaps decisively, related to the second, which is shorter and more practical. I Having long puzzled about how to explain Judaism adequately in English terms—the language being so substantially shaped by Christianity—I greatly admire Masao Abe’s accomplishment in conveying his Buddhist understanding of ultimate reality. The problems facing him are far more daunting than those confronting Jewish theologians, for he does not share a common Scripture and God with Christians as Jews do. Decreasing the linguistic barriers to greater understanding, as Masao Abe has so well done here, seems to me one of the most realistic and important aims of interfaith dialogue. He also shows commendable openness to his dialogue partners’ thought, not only seeking to learn from them but then integrating these insights into his statement of his distinctive Zen philosophy. Moreover, while not repressing the issues that Christianity and Judaism raise for his own thought and belief, he can firmly indicate his considerable questions concerning them. He thus admirably demonstrates the potentially transformative moral power of interfaith dialogue. Though his primary discussion is with Christianity, Abe also seeks to understand how Jewish thinkers have come to terms with the Holocaust, 327 1992 hoping in this way to initiate Buddhist-Jewish dialogue. It is to the best of my knowledge, the first step in direct academic exchange between these faiths, though Leo Baeck and Martin Buber had written about Buddhism many decades ago.1 I feel privileged to be invited to enter into dialogue with Professor Abe. There are many matters on which I can find Jewish points of agreement with him: individual responsibility is substantially corporate; an exaggerated thirst for life and attachment to things is a major source of evil; people need insight into a reality that is beyond the everyday and it is as much dependent upon “grace” (my discomfort with the Christian overtones of this term is so great that I had to signal it) as upon will and act; “salvation” might come at any moment, thus the present can be heavy with significance; “thingification” easily bars the way to true understanding ; and much more. Yet, since holistic context radically shapes the distinctive significance of a specific theme in a given faith, all these points of agreement point us toward a more fundamental disagreement. Thus, if I may make a disinterested academic observation, Abe’s reinterpretation of Christ’s kenosis seems to me quite utterly to transform it from what I have understood contemporary Christian theologians to be saying; I therefore look forward to seeing how they respond to him. The heart of the Jewish-Buddhist discussion may be approached most easily by beginning with the second of the two questions Abe asks of Jewish thinkers at the conclusion of his discussion of the Holocaust. He inquires: “If the rupture caused by the Holocaust is not a rupture of this or that way of philosophical or theological thinking, but of thought itself, how is Tikkun, that is, a mending of the rupture, possible?” To Abe as a Buddhist, “mending,” Tikkun, has to do with thought or understanding, in a Mahayana sense, to be sure. That follows logically from his insight into the human situation and its remedy. Avidya, ignorance, is the fundamental evil, and thus enlightenment, vidya, true understanding, is its “mending.” If, then, thought itself has been ruptured, the indispensable remedy is no longer available and all appears lost. How, then, can Jews still speak meaningfully of Tikkun after the Holocaust? Abe’s question is based on a citation from the writings of Emil Fackenheim and it will help to read it again. Fackenheim writes, “For the first time in this work [To Mend the World], we are faced with the possibility that the Holocaust may be a radical rupture in history—and that among things ruptured may be not just this or that way of philosophical or theological thinking, but thought itself.” I understand Fackenheim to be saying that the Holocaust may be “a radical rupture 328 A Way in history,” one so comprehensive that “among things ruptured” is thought—which is to say that the meaning of the Holocaust, among other things, exceeds the capacities of the intellectual activities the West calls...