We are in a supplement to Iyov, Chapter 11. As recalled, in the previous chapters Iyov raised the classic dilemma of Divine foreknowledge versus free will: if the Holy One, blessed be He, knows in advance everything a person is going to do, then human free will is effectively nullified. We explained this: if the Holy One, blessed be He, knows that a certain person will desecrate the Shabbat this coming Shabbat, it turns out that there is no possibility of him not desecrating Shabbat - for if he ultimately does not desecrate it, it would turn out, Heaven forbid, that Hashem did not know. Nor did it cross Iyov's mind to say that Hashem does not know. The underlying assumption is that Hashem knows in advance what man is going to do. And if His knowledge is clear and absolute, man cannot escape it, and is inevitably bound to do what Hashem knew he would. If today Hashem knows that this coming Shabbat at ten in the morning, Reuven will get into his car and drive - that means it is impossible for him not to do so. And if he has no ability to refrain, where is the free will? Hashem's foreknowledge, as it were, compels a person to do what he does.
In truth, a similar question is raised regarding the holy Torah itself, though there the answer is relatively simple. The Torah was written 974 generations before the creation of the world. If so, everything was already written in advance: it was written that Avraham would have a son named Yishmael, that Yitzchak would have a son named Esav, and that Korach would rebel against Moshe. If so, where was the free will of all those figures? Even if we say that the Books of the Prophets were written in the historical sequence of events, of the holy Torah it is explicitly said that it preceded the world by 974 generations. And if so, Yitzchak was compelled to be a righteous tzaddik, Yishmael was compelled to be wicked, Yaakov was compelled to be righteous, and Esav was compelled to be wicked - for it was all already written in the Torah in advance.
Here the question is relatively easy to resolve, because the Torah, when it was written in advance, was not written in the form in which it appears before us today. Rather, as the Vilna Gaon explains, it was written bedema (mingled / in tears). The Gemara cites a dispute between Tanna'im regarding the final eight verses of the Torah: did Moshe write them, or Yehoshua? One opinion states that Moshe wrote them, since a complete Sefer Torah was given to the nation, and if Yehoshua wrote them, the Sefer Torah would have been incomplete. The second opinion states that it is impossible that Moshe wrote them, since it is written, "So Moshe died there" and "And He buried him in the valley" - how could Moshe write something that was not true while he was still alive? To this the Gemara answers: rather, Moshe wrote them bedema.
The straightforward understanding is that Moshe wrote while tears streamed down his face, since he was writing about his own death. The Gra says: this is not the explanation, for crying does not answer the Gemara's question. The Gemara asked how Moshe could write about his death while he was still alive, and what is the answer - that he wept? When one cries, is it permissible to write an untruth? That resolves nothing.
The Vilna Gaon explains that bedema is from the root of meduma (a mixture), as in the verse, "You shall not delay your fullness and your mixture [dimecha]" (Shemot 22:28), and as in the rabbinic phrase, "A mixture of terumah and non-consecrated produce is neutralized in one hundred and one." Meduma refers to terumah mixed with ordinary grain - an expression of blending and mixture. Moshe wrote the final eight verses, but not in the order in which they appear before us; rather, in a scrambled mixture of letters. Afterwards, Yehoshua came and arranged the letters, words, and verses into the text we have today. In this, the Gra follows a well-trodden path: in Aggadah there is no dispute; rather, both opinions are true, each addressing a different aspect. The opinion that Moshe wrote them is true, because Moshe wrote them bedema (scrambled); and the opinion that Yehoshua wrote them is true, because Yehoshua arranged the letters so that they read "So Moshe died there."
If Moshe wrote bedema, we learn that the entire Torah at its core consists of the Names of Hashem, blessed be He; the letters are its building blocks. When we see a text written before us in a specific form, it means the letters were arranged according to the events that actually transpired. From here we have an answer to the question: How could it be written that Yishmael would be wicked, and yet he was held accountable and expected to be righteous? How could it be that 974 generations before the creation of the world it was written that Korach would rebel against Moshe, and later he finds himself swallowed beneath the earth crying out, "Moshe is true and his Torah is true"? The answer is: the Torah indeed preceded the world, but not in the sequence in which it is written today. Had the events unfolded differently, the Torah would have been written according to those events: had Yishmael been righteous, the Torah would have depicted him as righteous. What existed prior to creation was not the textual sequence before us, but the Torah itself, its letters, arranged in a different order - according to the esoteric secrets of the Torah.
Everything we study in the Torah today and explain with the help of Rashi, the Ramban, the holy Or HaChaim, and the other commentators, as well as the Gemara and the Midrashim - all of this is only one level, the outermost and lowest dimension of the Torah. Above it is derash (homiletical meaning), and above that is remez (allusion) - matters hinted at within the Torah, and highest of all is sod (the mystical secret). The study of Torah in the Upper Worlds is through the realm of sod. And when you take a passage written on the level of peshat (the literal meaning) and attempt to read it through the prism of sod, it transforms entirely and assumes an utterly different form, to the point where it bears no apparent connection to the subject discussed on the literal plane.
An example of the method of *remez* (allegorical allusion) is found in the holy *Ohr HaChaim* on Parashat Mishpatim. Regarding the entire section of "When you buy a Hebrew servant" (Ki tikneh eved Ivri), "If he comes in alone, he shall go out alone," "If he is married, then his wife shall go out with him" - the Ohr HaChaim explains the entire passage through remez, where it does not speak of an actual servant at all. What is it speaking of? Of a person who enters this world to fulfill Hashem's commandments, to be an *eved Hashem*, a servant of God. And who is this wife? The holy soul, which a person must nurture. "If he comes in alone, he shall go out alone" - whether he acquired his soul's portion or not, and so forth. Look there for a truly magnificent explanation. Thus we find that on the level of remez, the text is not speaking of a servant, a wife, or children; rather, all of them hint to far loftier matters.
Yet in the path of remez, there is still some connection to the literal meaning (peshat); in the path of *sod* (esoteric mysticism), as it were, there seems to be no connection at all between the literal text and what is taught in the realm of secrets. The holy Ari (Rabbi Yitzchak Luria) revealed to us only one single parashah in the Torah, for his life was short; had he lived longer, we would have merited many more wondrous passages. Everything we have - the entire *Etz Chaim* and all the writings of the Ari, of blessed memory - is founded upon this one passage: "And these are the kings who reigned in the land of Edom before any king reigned over the Children of Israel" (Bereishit 36:31), Bela the son of Beor, and the name of his city was Dinhabah, and Hadar, and the name of his wife was Mehetabel. The reader does not understand what significance the kings of Edom have, and why should we care about their names and the name of someone's wife? After all, the Torah is not a history book.
Yet whoever examines the words of the holy Ari there, in *Etz Chaim* and *Otzrot Chaim*, will find an extensive exposition concerning the "shattering of the vessels" (Shevirat HaKelim) and the "death of the kings" that preceded the formation of the world, in the sense of "He created worlds and destroyed them." Those seven kings who reigned were the spiritual forces and lights that the Holy One, blessed be He, created, and those kings fell and were shattered - this is the shattering of the vessels - and the vessels descended from the world of Atzilut down into Beriah, Yetzirah, and Asiyah, and the Holy One, blessed be He, embedded 288 (rapach) sparks to sustain the vessels. Part of our mission in this world is to repair those shattered vessels, those vessels broken in the foundational events preceding the creation of the world. This is cited merely as an example, so that we may realize that whatever we read in the Torah is only its outermost layer, whereas the inner essence of the Torah is entirely different from its exterior.
From this it becomes clear that in its source, the Torah could have been written in a completely different form, for its primary essence consists of the secrets embedded within it. The reason it was written as it is, with descriptions of Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, Yishmael, Eisav, and Pharaoh, is that this is how events actually unfolded in reality, and so the Holy One, blessed be He, arranged for the outer layer to be expressed in the text before us as well. However, when we say that the Torah preceded the creation of the world by 974 generations, and that "He looked into the Torah and created the world," it does not mean it was written in the precise form that lies before us today. Therefore, regarding the question of what happened to the free will of the figures in the Torah, the answer is simple: the Torah was not originally written in this manner; Moshe wrote it in this narrative form only after the events took place.
However, when we turn to human foreknowledge and free will, the question remains in its full force. The Holy One, blessed be He, knows in advance what will happen with me, and He also knows how a person will depart from this world and what his spiritual standing will be. If Hashem knows everything in advance, where is free will? How is it possible for me to act otherwise? And if it is impossible for me to act otherwise - where is my choice?
We have already seen that Tzophar the Naamatite answers Iyov, yet we noted that his answer is not fully satisfying and must be made accessible to human intellect. His response is that the Creator's knowledge is not like our knowledge, and therefore one cannot argue that Hashem's knowledge compels me to act according to what He knew. If I were to know what you are going to do, it would indeed be correct to say that once my knowledge is absolute, you cannot escape it and are forced to act that way; but if Hashem knows what you will do - it does not compel you. And that is all. Cryptic, sealed statements without an explanation, and we must understand why.
הַחֵקֶר אֱלוֹהַּ תִּמְצָא, אִם עַד תַּכְלִית שַׁדַּי תִּמְצָא. גׇּבְהֵי שָׁמַיִם מַה תִּפְעָל, עֲמֻקָּה מִשְּׁאוֹל מַה תֵּדָע. אֲרֻכָּה מֵאֶרֶץ מִדָּהּ, וּרְחָבָה מִנִּי יָם. - "Can you discover the mystery of God? Can you reach the ultimate limit of the Almighty? It is higher than heaven - what can you do? Deeper than the grave - what can you know? Its measure is longer than the earth and broader than the sea" (Iyov 11:7-9).
The one who addresses this explicitly is the Rambam in *Hilchot Teshuvah*, Chapter 5, Halachah 5. These are his words: "Lest you say: Does not the Holy One, blessed be He, know everything that will be? And before it occurs, did He know whether this person would be righteous or wicked, or did He not know? If He knew he would be righteous, it is impossible for him not to be righteous; and if you say He knew he would be righteous and yet it was possible for him to be wicked, then He did not know the matter thoroughly." In plain terms, the Rambam poses the dilemma of divine foreknowledge and free choice: if Hashem knows someone will be righteous, yet it is possible that he will not be, it would mean He does not know; and if He definitely knows, then it is certain that he will be righteous - so where is the person's free choice? After all, he is compelled to be righteous, and Hashem's knowledge seemingly forces his hand.
The Rambam continues: "Know that the answer to this question is 'longer than the earth in its measure and broader than the sea,' and many great principles and towering mountains are suspended upon it." First he tells you: know that this is no simple question, but a complex and difficult one. Then he adds: "Yet you must know and grasp the matter that I am about to say" - delve into these words and try to comprehend them. Right at the outset he is informing us: prepare yourself to dive into deep waters.
And this is his answer: "We have already explained in the second chapter of Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah that the Holy One, blessed be He, does not know with a knowledge that is external to Himself, like human beings, whose selves and knowledge are two distinct entities. Rather, He - may His Name be exalted - and His knowledge are one." God's knowledge is completely different from our knowledge. With us, I am one entity and my knowledge is another. How do we know this? Yesterday I learned something I did not know the day before yesterday. Did I exist the day before yesterday? Yes. And when did the knowledge arrive? Only yesterday. It follows that a person and his knowledge are two separate things. But the Holy One, blessed be He, and His knowledge are one - there is no God and "what He knows" as separate entities.
"And it is beyond the capacity of the human mind to fully grasp this matter" - do not attempt to delve into and understand how God and His knowledge are one, for "man lacks the capacity to comprehend and attain the true essence of the Creator." If you cannot grasp His true essence, blessed be He, how can you understand the relationship between Him and His knowledge? You do not even understand what the subject is, yet you seek to analyze its components! Just as it is stated, "For man shall not see Me and live," so too "man lacks the capacity to comprehend and find the knowledge of the Creator." And this is what the prophet said: "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways" - it is not merely that the Holy One, blessed be He, thinks about different things, but that the very mechanism of thinking is different: with you, you and your thought are two distinct entities, whereas with Him, blessed be He, He and His thought are one and the same.
"And since this is so, we do not have the capacity to know how the Holy One, blessed be He, knows all creatures and deeds." I do not know how God knows, for I cannot comprehend what His knowledge is. "However, we know without a doubt that human actions are in the hands of man" - you possess full free will, "and the Holy One, blessed be He, does not compel him or decree upon him to act this way." The Rambam adds: "And we know this not merely from religious tradition, but from clear proofs grounded in wisdom." In other words, do not say that this is merely a belief received from your ancestors; there are clear proofs from wisdom - not necessarily Torah wisdom, but simple logic and human reason, universally accepted by all mankind, that man possesses free will.
Without this, it would be utterly meaningless to judge a person for his deeds. If someone does me harm, I become angry at him; but why be angry if he had no choice? If I do something wrong, I feel pangs of conscience and anger at myself; but why, if I had no choice? And if someone steals, he is put on trial and punished; but why, if he had no choice? A person who lacks free will is not sent to prison for punishment, but to psychiatric evaluation. The very existence of a legal system in any civilized society proves that every human being intuitively understands at the most fundamental level: your actions are in your hands, and you have free will.
The Rambam concludes: "And for this reason it was stated in prophecy that man is judged for his actions according to his deeds, whether good or bad; and this is the foundational principle upon which all prophetic words depend." Without this, the words of the prophets would be entirely meaningless, for their whole purpose is rebuke: "Your princes are rebellious and companions of thieves; everyone loves bribes and chases after rewards." If man is coerced in his actions, what place is there to rebuke him? Would you ever rebuke a dog? Can one rebuke an animal that is programmed, or a computer that is programmed? From the very existence of rebuke, we learn that man has the ability to change his actions and that he possesses free will.
Yet in the final analysis, one must wonder: in what way did the Rambam advance our understanding? God knows - so where is my free will? The answer: God's knowledge is not like your knowledge; your knowledge would compel the outcome, but His knowledge does not compel it. God knows, and you have free will. But how? The answer is that you cannot comprehend it. But I did not understand it beforehand either!
Rabbeinu Avraham ben David (the Ra'avad) wrote strictures on the Rambam, offering a critique on almost every two or three halachot. The Rambam was relatively young when he authored his work, while the Ra'avad was already an elder sage. Even back then, there were complaints regarding the Rambam's work, because he presented it as a halachic codex without citing names, opinions, or sources, stating only the definitive law as an absolute ruling. Many did not accept this approach, including the Ra'avad, who wrote his strictures. Incidentally, it follows that wherever there is no objection from the Ra'avad, two major halachic authorities agree on that ruling - the Rambam and the Ra'avad - for wherever he disagreed, he wrote a critique. For this reason, it is customary in yeshivot to study the Rambam together with the Ra'avad.
Regarding the Rambam's statement, "And since this is so, we do not have the capacity to know how the Holy One, blessed be He, knows," the Ra'avad writes (always signing his words with "A.A." - "Amar Avraham," Abraham says): "This author did not act in the manner of wise men, for a person should not begin something if he does not know how to complete it. He began with perplexing questions, left the matter unresolved in difficulty, and brought it back to simple faith! It would have been better for him to leave the matter in the simple faith of the innocent, rather than stirring their hearts and leaving their minds in doubt, whereby for even a moment a troubling thought might enter their hearts about this." Sharp words: you raised a profound difficulty without providing a satisfying resolution, and it would have been better not to raise it at all. For if you have a question and a strong answer to it, all well and good - the person will know that answers exist. But if the answer is weak, the question itself merely prompted the listener to anticipate an answer, only to walk away with questions about the Creator of the world rather than resolutions.
So what does the Ra'avad do? The question has already been raised. Therefore, he adds: "And even though there is no decisive answer to this, it is proper to attach some measure of an answer, and so I say: If a person's righteousness and wickedness were dependent on the decree of the Creator, blessed be He, we would say that His knowledge is His decree, and the question would be exceedingly difficult for us. But now that the Creator has removed this control from His hand and placed it into the hands of man himself, His knowledge is not a decree. Rather, it is like the knowledge of astrologers, who know through another power what a person's ways will be. And it is known that all of a person's events, small and great, were entrusted by the Creator to the influence of the constellations; however, He granted him intellect to strengthen him to transcend the constellation, and this is the power given to man to be good or bad. And the Creator knows the power of the constellation and its moments, whether the intellect has the capacity to extract him from its sway or not, and this knowledge is not a decree. Yet all of this is of no real value."
The Ra'avad's meaning is: just as astrologers - fortunetellers - foresee what is destined to occur, does their knowledge rob man of his free will? An astrologer might know what will happen, yet you still have free choice. However, this is still not an entirely clear answer. For God's knowledge is absolute and precise, whereas astrologers do not know clearly, but possess only a very vague knowledge. As in the verse, "See, evil is before your face" - Pharaoh's astrologers said, "I see a star named Evil, things will not go well"; but what exactly would go wrong? They did not know. Furthermore, astrology is subject to change: Pharaoh foresaw blood in the wilderness, which ultimately turned out to be the blood of circumcision.
In contrast, the Creator's knowledge is clear and absolute, and under no circumstances can it change. Moreover, God knows in granular detail what will happen every second, which is utterly impossible to know through astrology. It makes no sense to say that God knew from the stars and constellations that at 11:12 I would lose my temper; such detail does not exist in astrological influences. A constellation might indicate that I was born with a prone disposition to anger, but not the exact minute I will become angry. Therefore, Divine knowledge cannot truly be compared to the knowledge of astrologers. The Ra'avad himself sensed this, which is why he opened by saying that there is no decisive answer to this, and concluded with "yet all of this is of no real value" - because, in truth, comprehending these matters is exceedingly difficult.
Iyov's claim is that Hashem's foreknowledge negates free will. Regarding the Torah having preceded the world, the answer is straightforward, for according to the Gra, it was written be-dema - in an intermingling of letters, as His holy Names - and only after the events unfolded was it arranged in the order before us, since its essence consists of the secrets embedded within it, and what we read is merely its outer layer. But regarding the question of Divine knowledge and human choice, Tzofar HaNa'amati's reply - "Can you fathom the mystery of God?" - that the Creator's knowledge is not like ours, remains obscure. The Rambam explains that Hashem and His knowledge are one, which is beyond human capacity to grasp; nonetheless, it is an absolute certainty that man's actions are in his own hands, as proven by human reason, the justice system, halachic liability, and the rebuke of prophecy. The Ra'avad takes issue with him, arguing that he should not have raised a difficulty that he could not fully resolve, and offers "something of an answer" based on the foreknowledge of astrologers, yet he himself concludes, "and all of this is insufficient." We thus learn that the question of Divine knowledge and free will is "longer than the earth in measure and wider than the sea," and the primary, agreed-upon, and clear principle is that man's deeds are in his own hands.