Chapter 7 of Eight Chapters by Rambam

Let’s dive into Chapter 7 of Rambam’s "Eight Chapters," where we take a little stroll through the mystical realm of prophets, barriers, and the ultimate quest to connect with the Divine. But don't worry, we’re going to keep it light, fun, and maybe even a bit cheeky.

So, imagine this: you're at a concert, right? You're pumped, the music’s about to start, but you’ve got this huge crowd in front of you. These people are your "barriers." Some are super tall, some are wearing ridiculous hats, and no matter how much you jump, you can’t quite get a clear view of the stage. Now, picture this same scenario but with prophets trying to see HaShem (God). Each prophet has their own set of "barriers"—but instead of tall people and hats, these barriers are moral and intellectual flaws. The fewer the flaws, the closer they get to a clear view of the Divine.

In this chapter, Rambam riffs on an idea found in Midrash, Haggadah, and Talmud—basically, the ancient sages’ equivalent of Instagram, Twitter, and Reddit. According to these sources, prophets each have their own level of access to HaShem, depending on how many barriers they’ve got between them and the Big Guy. And guess who had the least barriers of all? That’s right, Moses! He’s like that one friend who somehow always gets front-row tickets. The sages say he saw HaShem through a single, clear partition, like looking through a spotless window.

Now, Rambam breaks it down further, explaining that these barriers are really just flaws—some are intellectual, like being a bit slow on the uptake, and others are moral, like being a little too into the idea of revenge. And while we all have our quirks (I mean, who doesn’t secretly wish they could sneak a whole cake sometimes?), these flaws are what stand between us and a deeper connection with HaShem. When the prophet Isaiah said, “But your iniquities have separated you from your God,” he wasn’t just being dramatic. He was pointing out that these flaws are like the walls that keep us from being totally in sync with the Divine.

So, let’s talk about what makes a prophet a prophet. According to Rambam, to get that holy Wi-Fi connection, you need to have all the mental smarts and most of the major moral virtues. In other words, prophets aren’t just any random folks—they’re wise, brave, and content with what they’ve got. The sages even said that prophecy rests only on the wise, the brave, and the rich. But don’t get it twisted—by “rich,” they mean someone who’s rich in spirit, not the guy flexing his new Tesla. Being rich in this sense is all about being content with what you have, which, if you think about it, is way more valuable than any material wealth.

But here’s where things get juicy. You don’t have to be perfect to be a prophet. Rambam drops some names—like Solomon, who had a thing for way too many wives, and David, who was a little too into slaying his enemies. Both had their flaws, yet they were still prophets. This is like finding out your favorite celebrity has a weird habit but is still totally awesome at what they do. Even the great Elijah had a temper that God thought might be a little too fiery for the job. Rambam is saying that these imperfections are like smudges on a glass—still clear enough to see through but not without their issues.

Now, don’t go thinking that having a couple of bad habits is no big deal. Rambam makes it clear that certain flaws can totally kill the prophetic vibe. Take anger, for example. The rabbis said that if a prophet gets too heated, the prophecy just poofs away. It’s like when you’re in a heated argument, and you totally forget the point you were making. You lose that connection. Even stress and sadness can block the prophetic flow. Just look at Jacob, who lost his divine mojo while grieving for Joseph until he found out his son was alive. Basically, good vibes only if you want to keep that prophetic signal strong.

And then there’s Moses, the ultimate prophet. By the time he asked God to "show me Your glory," he had pretty much cleared away all his barriers. But HaShem was like, "Sorry, dude, no one can see my full essence and live." So, Moses got as close as humanly possible, but there was still that one last partition—his human intellect, still bound by the physical world. God did give Moses a little extra glimpse, though, which was kind of like getting a backstage pass after the concert’s over—still awesome, but not the full deal.

Rambam wraps up by reminding us that while the sages recognized the greatness of some prophets, they never fully equated anyone with Moses. They might say someone was "like Joshua," but that’s just a comparison, not an equality. Moses was in a league of his own, and that’s something even the greatest prophets couldn’t quite reach.

So, the takeaway here? Even if you’ve got a few smudges on your spiritual window, you can still catch some divine rays. Just keep polishing those virtues, and who knows? Maybe one day you’ll have your own clear view of the stage.

Chapter 6 of Eight Chapters by Rambam

Alright, buckle up! We're diving into Chapter 6 of Rambam’s "Eight Chapters," where he’s about to drop some serious wisdom about self-control, righteousness, and—get this—the difference between the good guy who secretly wants to be bad but holds back, and the guy who’s genuinely good down to his core. Let’s break it down, millennial-style, with a sprinkle of humor to keep things light.

So, here’s the deal. Rambam kicks things off by comparing two types of people: the one who fights their inner demons daily (picture someone eyeing that last donut at work but resisting), and the one who doesn’t even break a sweat because they’re just naturally inclined to do good. According to the philosophers Rambam talks about, the second guy—the naturally righteous one—is the real MVP. Why? Because he doesn’t even want to do bad things. His desires are totally in line with his actions. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t just skip the donut; he genuinely doesn’t even crave it.

On the flip side, our friend who battles his bad desires but still does the right thing? He’s admirable too, but in a “good job, buddy, keep trying” kind of way. According to Rambam, the struggle is real, and while this guy might win a few rounds, he’s still in the ring fighting, which means he’s not as perfectly virtuous as the naturally righteous person. Think of it like this: if you have to talk yourself out of doing something bad every time, sure, you’re showing strength, but wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t have those temptations in the first place?

Rambam doesn’t leave us hanging with just the philosophers' viewpoint. He pulls Solomon into the chat, citing verses from Proverbs. Solomon backs up the idea that true joy comes from doing the right thing naturally, while those who are wicked, or at least struggling with wicked desires, find doing good to be a real drag. Basically, Solomon is saying, "If you’re not loving doing the right thing, something’s off."

But then Rambam throws us a curveball. According to the Rabbis, it turns out that the guy who *does* struggle and still chooses the right path might actually be more praiseworthy. What? Why? Because the struggle itself is proof that he’s fighting for something important. And let’s be real: nothing worth having comes easy, right? The Rabbis even go so far as to say that the bigger your struggle, the bigger your reward. It’s like life’s version of “no pain, no gain.” If you’re sweating through the effort of being good, then when you finally get it right, it’s a huge deal.

Now, you might be thinking, “Wait a second, isn’t there a contradiction here?” On the one hand, the philosophers and Solomon are saying that being naturally good is the ideal, and on the other hand, the Rabbis are giving props to the guy who has to struggle against his bad instincts. Rambam is here to tell us: no contradiction, folks. Both perspectives are true, just in different contexts.

See, when the philosophers talk about "evil," they’re referring to stuff that everyone agrees is bad—murder, theft, lying, etc. If you’re tempted by these things, then yeah, that’s a problem, and it shows that your soul isn’t where it should be. The truly virtuous person isn’t even tempted by this stuff because their soul is in perfect alignment with what’s right.

But when the Rabbis talk about the struggle being worthy of praise, they’re talking about things that are only “bad” because the Torah says so—like not mixing meat and milk, or avoiding certain types of fabric. These are things that, if it weren’t for the Torah, you might not even consider wrong at all. So, if you’re tempted by them but choose to follow the rules anyway, that’s a sign of strong commitment to the Torah. And that’s something worth celebrating.

So what’s the big lesson here? Well, it’s all about understanding what true virtue is and where your struggles lie. If you find yourself constantly battling against doing something you know is wrong, that’s a sign you’re still working on refining your soul. And that’s okay—Rambam isn’t here to judge (well, maybe a little). He’s here to guide. The key is to keep pushing yourself towards that higher state where doing the right thing becomes second nature, not just a constant battle.

But if your struggle is more about sticking to the Torah’s rules when they don’t seem to make sense in the natural world (like dietary laws), then that’s a different kind of challenge. And according to the Rabbis, conquering that challenge is something to be proud of because it shows your dedication to HaShem and His commandments.

In the end, whether you’re naturally inclined to good or you have to fight for it every day, the important thing is the direction you’re heading. Keep aiming for that alignment where your actions, desires, and thoughts all work together in harmony. Because when you get there, not only will you be on a higher plane of virtue, but you might just find that life gets a whole lot easier—and a whole lot more joyful too.

Chapter 5 from Eight Chapters by Rambam

Alright, let’s dive into Chapter 5 of Rambam’s "Eight Chapters," but don’t worry, I’m here to keep it fresh, relatable, and with just the right amount of humor to help it all go down smoothly—like your favorite latte on a Monday morning.

Rambam kicks off this chapter by telling us that, essentially, life should have a point. And not just any point—an ultimate goal that we’re constantly striving toward. And what is this grand goal? No biggie, just understanding and connecting with HaShem to the best of our human ability. Simple, right? Well, not exactly. Rambam is all about making sure every single thing we do—whether it’s eating, sleeping, working, or even chilling—should be aligned with this purpose. It’s like being told that your Netflix bingeing should somehow make you a better person. (Yeah, I know, ouch.)

Now, Rambam isn’t about to let us off the hook by saying, "Just enjoy life, man!" Nope. He says that every action should serve a greater purpose. So, when you’re eating, for instance, don’t just go for the triple chocolate cake because it tastes amazing—think about whether it’s actually good for you. If it’s going to make you feel like a sloth afterward, maybe opt for something that nourishes your body and keeps you feeling spry. Sure, sometimes a little indulgence is needed (hello, comfort food), but Rambam suggests doing it in a way that ultimately serves your well-being. Like, if you’re feeling down and some comfort food will lift your spirits just enough to get you back on track, then go for it. But if you’re about to dive headfirst into a tub of ice cream just because, you might want to rethink that.

What about making money, you ask? Rambam’s got that covered too. He’s not saying money is bad—in fact, he acknowledges that it’s necessary for living a good life. But, he urges us to see wealth as a means to an end, not the end itself. Think of it this way: money is your tool for doing good, for staying healthy, for keeping yourself in a position where you can focus on the higher things in life, like learning, growing, and connecting with HaShem. So, instead of stashing cash like Scrooge McDuck, think about how you can use it to support your goals. Maybe that’s through charity, education, or even just ensuring you’ve got the resources to keep learning and improving yourself.

Now, Rambam gets pretty deep when he starts talking about the mind and body connection. He argues that maintaining your body is crucial because, let’s face it, you need a healthy vessel to keep that soul of yours on the right path. But he’s not advocating for a life of vanity. It’s not about spending hours in the gym just to look good on Instagram. Instead, it’s about making sure your body is strong enough to support your soul’s journey. Like, if you’re constantly tired or sick, how can you focus on spiritual growth or learning? So, take care of yourself—but always with the end goal in mind: that sweet, sweet spiritual growth.

Rambam doesn’t stop at just telling us to eat right and manage our money wisely. He’s also big on what we talk about. Yep, even our conversations need to be purposeful. He suggests we focus on discussions that build us up—whether they’re about learning, moral virtues, or even calling out bad behavior to steer others away from it. So, the next time you’re tempted to dive into some juicy gossip, maybe pause and think: "Is this conversation helping me or anyone else grow?" If the answer is no, Rambam would probably suggest you switch topics.

And here’s where Rambam gets a little tough love on us. He acknowledges that living this way—where every action and thought is aimed at a higher purpose—isn’t easy. In fact, he says it’s one of the highest forms of human achievement, something only a few can truly master after a lifetime of effort. But don’t let that discourage you. He’s not saying it’s impossible—just that it takes a lot of conscious effort. Think of it as leveling up in a video game. It’s tough, it takes practice, and sometimes you’ll fail, but with perseverance, you’ll get there.

In fact, Rambam goes so far as to say that if you really nail this way of living, you’re not just an average Joe anymore—you’re up there with the prophets. Yeah, that’s right. He’s saying that aligning every part of your life with the goal of understanding and connecting with HaShem can elevate you to a level most people can only dream of. So, the next time you’re about to make a decision—whether it’s big like choosing a career or small like deciding what to eat for lunch—Rambam would have you pause and ask yourself: "Is this helping me get closer to my ultimate goal?" If the answer is yes, go for it. If not, well, maybe it’s time to rethink your choices.

In conclusion, Rambam’s Chapter 5 is like a life manual for those who want to go beyond just existing. It’s a call to live intentionally, to make sure that every action, every decision, and every word spoken is part of a larger purpose—connecting with and understanding HaShem. It’s not the easiest path, but hey, if you’re going to strive for something in life, why not make it something truly worthwhile? And who knows? With enough practice, you might just find yourself walking the same path as the greats.