We all share a supreme devotion to the hard-won freedoms of the American people. Yet to be
worthy of retaining our freedoms we must not lose our understanding of the essential nature of
freedom. Freedom means more than mere emancipation. It is primarily freedom of conscience,
bound up with inner allegiance. The danger begins when freedom is thought to consist in the fact
that “I can act as I desire.” This definition not only overlooks the compulsions which often lie be-
hind our desires; it reveals the tragic truth that freedom may develop within itself the seed of its
own destruction. The will is not an ultimate and isolated entity, but determined by motives beyond
its own control. To be what one wants to be is also not freedom, since the wishes of the ego are
largely determined by external factors.
Freedom is not a principle of uncertainty, the ability to act without a motive. Such action would
be chaotic and subrational, rather than free.
Although political and social freedom must include all this, even the freedom to err—its true
essence is in man’s ability to surpass himself, even to act against his inclinations and in defiance
of his own needs and desires, to sacrifice prejudice even if it hurts, to give up superstition even
when it claims to be a doctrine.
Freedom is the liberation from the tyranny of the self-centered ego. It comes about in moments
of transcending the self as an act of spiritual ecstasy, of stepping out of the confining framework
of routine reflexive concern. Freedom presupposes the capacity for sacrifice.
Although all men are potentially free, it is our sacred duty to safeguard all those political, social,
and intellectual conditions which will enable every man to bring about the concrete actualization
of freedom which is the essential prerequisite of creative achievement.
The shock of radical amazement, the humility born in awe and reverence, the austere discipline
of unremitting inquiry and self-criticism are acts of liberating man from the routine way of looking
only at those features of experience which are similar and regular, and opening his soul to the
unique and transcendent. This sensivity to the novel and the unprecedented is the foundation of
God-awareness and of the awareness of the preciousness of all beings. It leads from reflexive con-
cern and the moral and spiritual isolation which is the result of egocentricity to a mode of re-
sponding to each new and unique experience in terms of broader considerations, wider interests,
deeper appreciation and new, as yet unrealized values.
As the object of divine transitive concern man is; knowing himself to be the object of divine con-
cern and responding through acts of his own transitive concern he is free.
The meaning of freedom is not exhausted by deliberation, decision, and responsibility, although
it must include all this. The meaning of freedom presupposes an openness to transcendence, and
man has to be responsive before he can become responsible.
For freedom is not an empty concept. Man is free to be free; he is not free in choosing to be a
slave; he is free in doing good; he is not free in doing evil. To choose evil is to fail to be free. In
choosing evil he is not free but determined by forces which are extraneous to the spirit. Free is he
who has decided to act in agreement with the spirit that goes beyond all necessities.
Freedom is a challenge and a burden against which man often rebels. He is ready to abandon it,
since it is full of contradiction and continually under attack. Freedom can only endure as a vision,
and loyalty to it is an act of faith.
There is no freedom without awe. We must cultivate many moments of silence to bring about one moment of expression. We must bear many burdens to have the strength to carry out one act
of freedom.
Man’s true fulfillment cannot be reached by the isolated individual, and his true good depends
on communion with, and participation in, that which transcends him. Each challenge from beyond
the person is unique, and each response must be new and creative. Freedom is an act of engage-
ment of the self to the spirit, a spiritual event.
Loyalty to freedom means loyalty to the substance of freedom. But such loyalty must be actu-
alized again and again. Here our way of living must change: it must open the sight of sublime
horizons under which we live.
Refusal to delegate the power to make ultimate decisions to any human institution, derives its
strength either from the awareness of one’s mysterious dignity or from the awareness of one’s ultimate responsibility. But that strength breaks down in the discovery that one is unable to make
a significant choice. Progressive vulgarization of society may deprive man of his ability to appre-
ciate the sublime burden of freedom. Like Esav he may be ready to sell his birthright for a pot of
lentils.
Much that is being done, e.g., in the name of entertainment, is an insult to the soul. What is involved is not demoralization; much of it may be morally neutral. What is involved is dehumanization; so much of it is a continual process of intellectual deprivation. Sensitivity to words is one of the many casualties in that process.
Words have become pretexts in the technique of evading the necessity of honest and genuine
expression. Sometimes it seems as if we were all engaged in the process of liquidating the English
language. But words are the vessels of the spirit. And when the vessels are broken, our relationship to the spirit becomes precarious.
To be free one must attain a degree of independence. Yet the complexities of society have en-
meshed contemporary man in a web of relationships which make his independence most precarious.
Loaded with more vulnerable interests than he is able to protect, bursting with fears of being
squeezed by a multiplicity of tasks and responsibilities, modern man feels too insecure to remain
upright.
Good and evil have always had a tendency to live in promiscuity, but in more integrated societies man, it seems, found it easier to discriminate between the two, while in our turbulent times
circumstances often stupefy our power of discernment; it is as if many of us have become value-blind in the epidemics of needs.
The glory of a free society lies not only in the consciousness of my right to be free, and my
capacity to be free, but also in the realization of my fellow man’s right to be free, and his capacity to
be free. The issue we face is how to save man’s belief in his capacity to be free. Our age may be characterized as the age of suspicion. It has become an axiom that the shortest way to the understanding of man is to suspect his motives. This seems to be the contemporary version of the
Golden Rule: Suspect thy neighbor as thyself. Suspicion breeds suspicion. It creates a chain reaction. Honesty is not necessarily an anachronism.
The righteous man shall live by his faith. Can he live by his suspicion and be righteous ? It is
dangerous to take human freedom for granted, to regard it as a prerogative rather than as an obli-
gation, as an ultimate fact rather than as an ultimate goal. It is the beginning of wisdom to be
amazed at the fact of our being free.
Freedom is a gift which may be taken away from us. It is not an absolute but a relative possession, an opportunity. We are free only when living in attachment to the spirit. The blessings and opportunities of living in a free society must not make us blind to those aspects of our society which threaten our freedom: the tyranny of needs, the vulgarization of the spirit are a particular challenge.
The insecurity of freedom is a bitter fact of historical experience. In times of unemployment,
vociferous demagogues are capable of leading the people into a state of mind in which they are
ready to barter their freedom for any bargain. In times of prosperity hidden persuaders are capable
of leading the same people into selling their conscience for success. Unless a person learns how
to rise daily to a higher plane of living, to care for that which surpasses his immediate needs, will
he in a moment of crisis insist upon loyalty to freedom?
The threat to freedom lies in the process of reducing human relations to a matter of fact.
Human life is no longer a drama; it is a routine. Uniqueness is suppressed, repetitiveness prevails.
We teach our students how to recognize the labels, not how to develop a taste. Standardization corrodes the sense of ultimate significance. Man to his own self becomes increasingly vapid,
cheap, insignificant. Yet without the sense of ultimate significance and ultimate preciousness of
one’s own existence, freedom becomes a hollow phrase.
We are losing our capacity for freedom. New forces have emerged which regulate our actions.
Modern man is not motivated anymore, he is being propelled; he does not strive anymore, he is
being driven.
The principle of majority decision, the binding force of a majority, depends upon the assumption that the individuals who make up the majority are capable of discerning between right and
wrong. But we are gradually led to believe that man is incapable of making a significant moral
judgment.
We have made great contributions to the spiritual defamation of man. Far from eliminating the fear of man, our novels and theories depict man as untrustworthy, passion-ridden, self-seeking, and disingenuous.
Reverence for man has been strenuously refuted as sentimental eyewash. We all ride on the
highways of debunking. There seems to be no question in our mind that there is no depth to
virtue, no reality to integrity; that all we can do is to graft goodness upon selfishness, to use truth
as a pragmatic pretext, and to relish self-indulgence in all values.
Contemporary man is told that his religious beliefs are nothing but attempts to satisfy subcon-
scious wishes, that his conception of God is merely a projection of self-seeking emotions, an ob-
jectification of subjective needs; God is the Ego in disguise. We have not only forfeited faith; we
have also lost faith in the meaning of faith. This tendency to question the genuineness of man’s
concern for God is a challenge more serious than the tendency to question God’s existence.
One of the chief problems of contemporary man is the problem: What to do with time? Most of
our life we spend time in order to gain space, namely things of space. Yet when the situation ar-
rives in which no things of space may be gained, the average man is at a loss as to what to do with
time.
With the development of automation the number of hours to be spent professionally will be
considerably reduced. The four-day week may become a reality within this generation. The prob-
lem will arise: What to do with so much leisure time? The problem will be too much time rather
than too little time. But too much time is a breeding ground for crime.
The modern man has not only forgotten how to be alone; he finds it even difficult to be with his
fellow man. He not only runs away from himself; he runs away from his family. To children, “Honor your father and your mother,” is an irrational suggestion. The normal relationship is dull;
deviation is where pleasure is found.
The modern man does not know how to stand still, how to appreciate a moment, an event for
its own sake. When witnessing an important event or confronted with a beautiful sight, all he does
is take a picture. Perhaps this is what our religious traditions must teach the contemporary man:
to stand still and to behold, to stand still and to hear.
Judaism claims that the way to nobility of the soul is the art of sanctifying time. Moral dedica-
tions, acts of worship, intellectual pursuits are means in the art of sanctification of time. Personal
concern for justice in the market place, for integrity in public affairs and in public relations is a
prerequisite for our right to pray.
Acts of worship counteract the trivialization of existence. Both involve the person, and give him a sense of living in ultimate relationships. Both of them are ways of teaching man how to stand
alone and not be alone, of teaching man that God is a refuge, not a security.
But worship comes out of wisdom, out of insight, it is not an act of oversight. Learning, too, is a
religious commandment. I do not mean the possession of learning, erudition; I mean the very act
of study, of being involved in wisdom, and of being overwhelmed by the marvel and mystery of
God’s creation.
Religion’s major effort must be to counteract the deflation of man, the trivialization of human
existence. Our religious traditions claim that man is capable of sacrifice, discipline, of moral and
spiritual exaltation, that every man is capable of an ultimate commitment.
Ultimate commitment includes the consciousness of being accountable for the acts we perform
under freedom; the awareness that what we own we owe; the capacity for repentance; that a life without the service of God is a secret scandal.
Faith in God cannot be forced upon man. The issue is not only lack of faith but the vulgarization of faith, the misunderstanding and abuse of freedom. Our effort must involve a total reorientation about the nature of man and the world. And our hope lies in the certainty that all men
are capable of sensing the wonder and mystery of existence, that all men have a capacity for rever-
ence. Awe, reverence precedes faith; it is at the root of faith. We must grow in awe in order to
reach faith. We must be guided by awe to be worthy of faith. Awe is “the beginning and gateway of
faith, the first precept of all, and upon it the whole world is established.”
The grandeur and mystery of the world that surrounds us is not something which is perceptible
only to the elect. All men are endowed with a sense of wonder, with a sense of mystery. But our
system of education fails to develop it and the anti-intellectual climate of our civilization does much to suppress it. Mankind will not perish for lack of information; it may collapse for want of
appreciation.
Education for reverence, the development of a sense of awe and mystery, is a prerequisite for the
preservation of freedom.
We must learn how to bridle the outrageous presumption of modern man, to cultivate a sense
of wonder and reverence, to develop an awareness that something is asked of man. Freedom is a
burden that God has thrust upon man. Freedom is something we are responsible for. If we suc-
ceed, we will help in the redemption of the world; if we fail, we may be crushed by its abuse. Free-
dom as man’s unlimited lordship is the climax of absurdity, and the central issue we face is man’s
false sense of sovereignty.
Tragic is the role of religion in contemporary society. The world is waiting to hear the Voice, and those who are called upon to utter the word are confused and weak in faith. “The voice of the Lord
is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty” (Psalm 29:4). Where is its power? Where is its
majesty?
Rabbi Simon said: “When the Holy One, blessed be He, came to create Adam, the ministering
angels formed themselves into groups and parties, some of them saying, ‘Let him be created,’ whilst others urged, ‘Let him not be created.’ Thus it is written, Love and Truth fought together,
Righteousness and Peace combatted each other (Psalm 85:11): Love said, ‘Let him be created, be-
cause he will dispense acts of love’; Truth said, ‘Let him not be created, because he is com-
pounded of falsehood’; Righteousness said, ‘Let him be created, because he will perform right-
eous deeds’; Peace said, ‘Let him not be created because he is full of strife.’ What did the Lord do?
He took Truth and cast it to the ground. Said the ministering angels before the Holy One, blessed
be He, ‘Sovereign of the Universe! Why dost Thou despise Thy seal? Let Truth arise from the
earth!’ Hence it is written, Let truth spring up from the earth (Psalm 85:12).”⁴
God had to bury truth in order to create man.
How does one ever encounter the truth? The truth is underground, hidden from the eye. Its nature and man’s condition are such that he can neither produce nor invent it. However, there is a way. If you bury the lies, truth will spring up. Upon the grave of the specious we encounter the
valid. Much grave digging had to be done. The most fatal trap into which religious thinking may
fall is the equation of faith with expediency. The genuine task of our traditions is to educate a sense
for the expedient, a sensitivity to God’s demand.
Perhaps we must begin by disclosing the fallacy of absolute expediency. God’s voice may sound
feeble to our conscience. Yet there is a divine cunning in history which seems to prove that the
wages of absolute expediency is disaster. We must not tire of reminding the world that something
is asked of man, of every man; that the value of charity is not to be measured in terms of public
relations. Foreign aid, when offered to underdeveloped countries for the purpose of winning
friends and influencing people, turns out to be a boomerang. Should we not learn how to detach
expediency from charity? The great failure of American policy is not in public relations. The great failure is in private relations.
The spirit is a still small voice, and the masters of vulgarity use loudspeakers. The voice has
been stifled, and many of us have lost faith in the possibility of a new perceptiveness.
Discredited is man’s faith in his own integrity. We question man’s power to sense any ultimate
significance. We question the belief in the compatibility of existence with spirit.
Yet man is bound to break the chains of despair, to stand up against those who deny him the
right and the strength to believe wholeheartedly. Ultimate truth may be hidden from man, yet the
power to discern between the valid and the specious has not been taken from us.
Surely God will always receive a surprise of a handful of fools—who do not fail. There will al-
ways remain a spiritual underground where a few brave minds continue to fight. Yet our concern is
not how to worship in the catacombs but rather how to remain human in the skyscrapers.
our life we spend time in order to gain space, namely things of space. Yet when the situation ar-
rives in which no things of space may be gained, the average man is at a loss as to what to do with
time.
With the development of automation the number of hours to be spent professionally will be
considerably reduced. The four-day week may become a reality within this generation. The prob-
lem will arise: What to do with so much leisure time? The problem will be too much time rather
than too little time. But too much time is a breeding ground for crime.
The modern man has not only forgotten how to be alone; he finds it even difficult to be with his
fellow man. He not only runs away from himself; he runs away from his family. To children, “Honor your father and your mother,” is an irrational suggestion. The normal relationship is dull;
deviation is where pleasure is found.
The modern man does not know how to stand still, how to appreciate a moment, an event for
its own sake. When witnessing an important event or confronted with a beautiful sight, all he does
is take a picture. Perhaps this is what our religious traditions must teach the contemporary man:
to stand still and to behold, to stand still and to hear.
Judaism claims that the way to nobility of the soul is the art of sanctifying time. Moral dedica-
tions, acts of worship, intellectual pursuits are means in the art of sanctification of time. Personal
concern for justice in the market place, for integrity in public affairs and in public relations is a
prerequisite for our right to pray.
Acts of worship counteract the trivialization of existence. Both involve the person, and give him a sense of living in ultimate relationships. Both of them are ways of teaching man how to stand
alone and not be alone, of teaching man that God is a refuge, not a security.
But worship comes out of wisdom, out of insight, it is not an act of oversight. Learning, too, is a
religious commandment. I do not mean the possession of learning, erudition; I mean the very act
of study, of being involved in wisdom, and of being overwhelmed by the marvel and mystery of
God’s creation.
Religion’s major effort must be to counteract the deflation of man, the trivialization of human
existence. Our religious traditions claim that man is capable of sacrifice, discipline, of moral and
spiritual exaltation, that every man is capable of an ultimate commitment.
Ultimate commitment includes the consciousness of being accountable for the acts we perform
under freedom; the awareness that what we own we owe; the capacity for repentance; that a life without the service of God is a secret scandal.
Faith in God cannot be forced upon man. The issue is not only lack of faith but the vulgarization of faith, the misunderstanding and abuse of freedom. Our effort must involve a total reorientation about the nature of man and the world. And our hope lies in the certainty that all men
are capable of sensing the wonder and mystery of existence, that all men have a capacity for rever-
ence. Awe, reverence precedes faith; it is at the root of faith. We must grow in awe in order to
reach faith. We must be guided by awe to be worthy of faith. Awe is “the beginning and gateway of
faith, the first precept of all, and upon it the whole world is established.”
The grandeur and mystery of the world that surrounds us is not something which is perceptible
only to the elect. All men are endowed with a sense of wonder, with a sense of mystery. But our
system of education fails to develop it and the anti-intellectual climate of our civilization does much to suppress it. Mankind will not perish for lack of information; it may collapse for want of
appreciation.
Education for reverence, the development of a sense of awe and mystery, is a prerequisite for the
preservation of freedom.
We must learn how to bridle the outrageous presumption of modern man, to cultivate a sense
of wonder and reverence, to develop an awareness that something is asked of man. Freedom is a
burden that God has thrust upon man. Freedom is something we are responsible for. If we suc-
ceed, we will help in the redemption of the world; if we fail, we may be crushed by its abuse. Free-
dom as man’s unlimited lordship is the climax of absurdity, and the central issue we face is man’s
false sense of sovereignty.
Tragic is the role of religion in contemporary society. The world is waiting to hear the Voice, and those who are called upon to utter the word are confused and weak in faith. “The voice of the Lord
is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty” (Psalm 29:4). Where is its power? Where is its
majesty?
Rabbi Simon said: “When the Holy One, blessed be He, came to create Adam, the ministering
angels formed themselves into groups and parties, some of them saying, ‘Let him be created,’ whilst others urged, ‘Let him not be created.’ Thus it is written, Love and Truth fought together,
Righteousness and Peace combatted each other (Psalm 85:11): Love said, ‘Let him be created, be-
cause he will dispense acts of love’; Truth said, ‘Let him not be created, because he is com-
pounded of falsehood’; Righteousness said, ‘Let him be created, because he will perform right-
eous deeds’; Peace said, ‘Let him not be created because he is full of strife.’ What did the Lord do?
He took Truth and cast it to the ground. Said the ministering angels before the Holy One, blessed
be He, ‘Sovereign of the Universe! Why dost Thou despise Thy seal? Let Truth arise from the
earth!’ Hence it is written, Let truth spring up from the earth (Psalm 85:12).”⁴
God had to bury truth in order to create man.
How does one ever encounter the truth? The truth is underground, hidden from the eye. Its nature and man’s condition are such that he can neither produce nor invent it. However, there is a way. If you bury the lies, truth will spring up. Upon the grave of the specious we encounter the
valid. Much grave digging had to be done. The most fatal trap into which religious thinking may
fall is the equation of faith with expediency. The genuine task of our traditions is to educate a sense
for the expedient, a sensitivity to God’s demand.
Perhaps we must begin by disclosing the fallacy of absolute expediency. God’s voice may sound
feeble to our conscience. Yet there is a divine cunning in history which seems to prove that the
wages of absolute expediency is disaster. We must not tire of reminding the world that something
is asked of man, of every man; that the value of charity is not to be measured in terms of public
relations. Foreign aid, when offered to underdeveloped countries for the purpose of winning
friends and influencing people, turns out to be a boomerang. Should we not learn how to detach
expediency from charity? The great failure of American policy is not in public relations. The great failure is in private relations.
The spirit is a still small voice, and the masters of vulgarity use loudspeakers. The voice has
been stifled, and many of us have lost faith in the possibility of a new perceptiveness.
Discredited is man’s faith in his own integrity. We question man’s power to sense any ultimate
significance. We question the belief in the compatibility of existence with spirit.
Yet man is bound to break the chains of despair, to stand up against those who deny him the
right and the strength to believe wholeheartedly. Ultimate truth may be hidden from man, yet the
power to discern between the valid and the specious has not been taken from us.
Surely God will always receive a surprise of a handful of fools—who do not fail. There will al-
ways remain a spiritual underground where a few brave minds continue to fight. Yet our concern is
not how to worship in the catacombs but rather how to remain human in the skyscrapers.
