Myths and misconceptions

The Jewish Family Identity Forum with Candace R. Kwiatek

When you hear the word devil, Satan or Lucifer, what images come to mind? A devious serpent wrapped around a tree branch? A red-clad troll-like figure with horns and tail holding a pitchfork? A beast with the face of a pig, the horns of a ram, the fur and ears of a goat, the body of a human, and cloven hooves?

A terrifying human-eating bird or another of the underworld fiends in Hieronymus Bosch’s surrealist paintings? An underworld ruler, a tormenter in Hell, the malevolent demon commander of evil spirits? A fallen angel with a devious grin, a deceiver of humanity, a competitor with God for human souls?

While these specific images are largely the product of Christian theology and art, Satan’s origins can be found in Jewish literature.

In the Hebrew Bible, the word satan appears more than two dozen times in eight books — where it has a general meaning of adversary.

According to the Jewish Encyclopedia, satan is variously used to refer to an enemy or traitor in war, any opponent, or an antagonist who puts up obstacles. In Psalms and most famously the Book of Job, Satan is the accuser or prosecuting attorney in the Heavenly Court.

Job offers two more clues to the identity of Satan: he is described as part of a group of celestial beings who travel between heaven and earth and is referred to as haSatan, a specific Hebrew construct used to indicate a title rather than a name, most frequently identifying angels of God.

The original biblical character is not an independent fiend, a fallen angel ruling over a sinful world, or a supernatural entity in opposition to God and humankind.

In keeping with Judaism’s strict monotheism, the biblical Satan is a celestial servant, an angel assigned to a specific task and requiring God’s permission to act. Our modern images, however, have been formed in the cauldron of history, language, and culture.

In the sixth century BCE the Israelites came under the influence of Persian Zoroastrianism in which good and evil are dueling forces.

During the following chaotic centuries there was an explosion of Jewish apocryphal (extra-biblical) literature that often incorporated foreign concepts of fallen angels and demons, a conscious and free-willed evil spirit prince, and Satan — now Satanel — as Eve’s seducer and author of death.

Never widely accepted in Judaism and only recently resurrected in the interest of modern biblical scholarship, these long-lost and hidden texts had a significant impact on the early development of Christian thought.

Historical forces were augmented by the translation of the Bible into the lingua franca, Greek, in which haSatan became diabolos, from which the English devil is derived.

Lucifer, a misapplication of a text from Isaiah (Is. 14:12), introduces fire imagery into the equation.

In mainstream Christianity, the Devil evolved into God’s adversary, the antichrist, the fallen angel prince who hates humanity and, with a band of demons, uses lies and deception to destroy souls.

In Muslim theology, the Devil (Shaytan or jinn/demon) is also a fallen angel, but not God’s enemy. A divine creation himself, Shaytan’s sole purpose is to deceive humans and discourage them from obeying God.

In both traditions, the Devil is associated with eternal fire in the afterlife. The Devil is not part of Jewish tradition.

While midrash and Jewish folklore occasionally characterize Satan as a demonic creature, mainstream Judaism’s view from the rabbinic era onward is much more in keeping with the original biblical notion.

Rather than a physical being or an underworld ruler, Satan is the force that tempts one to do evil, a difficulty or distraction that hinders one from doing good. It is often used as a synonym for yetzer hara, the evil inclination or the temptation to move away from the path of righteousness. Satan (or haSatan) “the angel” is a servant of God, and simply a way of personifying man’s challenges and obstacles to doing good.

But if Satan’s purpose is temptation, isn’t it a kind of sting operation? Why would God set up humans to fail? The answer is twofold: free will and choice.

Without free will, we would be angels rather than humans, totally subservient to God’s demands and directions. But free will is purposeless without choice, and authentic choice demands challenge or real temptation to one direction in opposition to another.

A humorous but accurate parallel to haSatan as pointed out by Mordechai Housman in Does Judaism Believe in Satan? is the character Arthur Slugworth in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

He attempts to foil the children’s success in the Wonka Factory “lifetime of chocolate” contest. But it turns out that Slugworth is really Mr. Wonka’s assistant, working at his direction to find an honest child to take over the factory. Like Slugworth, Satan is an assistant with a dirty job.

While Judaism doesn’t believe in the devil, per se, it does believe in a “devil’s advocate.”

After all, Satan challenges us to make authentic decisions as we exercise our unique human quality of free will.

Satan tempts us to conquer our yetzer hara, our evil inclination. And Satan allows us to become better human beings when we make the choice to act “in the image of God.”

Family Discussion: The lyrics to Bob Dylan’s Man of Peace include the following: “He got a sweet gift of gab, he got a harmonious tongue…/Catch you when your troubles feel like they weigh a ton/He could be standing next to you/The person that you’d notice least…” How do they capture Judaism’s view of Satan? What other advice would you add?

Candace R. Kwiatek is a writer, educator and consultant in Jewish and secular education. She is a recipient of an American Jewish Press Association Simon Rockower First Place Award for Excellence in Commentary, and an Ohio Society of Professional Journalists First Place Award for Best Religion/Values Coverage.

Literature to share

My Promised Land: the Triumph and Tragedy of Israel by Ari Shavit. If you’re looking for a different perspective on modern Israel’s history and a window into the current conflicts, this is the book to explore. Written by a seasoned Israeli journalist, Promised Land brings alive the multi-faceted story of this contested region through the dramas of people and events. Sometimes unexpected and thoroughly fascinating, its storyteller flavor makes this a not-to-be-missed summer read.

The Day the Rabbi Disappeared by Howard Schwartz. From the renowned Jewish folklorist comes a new twist on holiday stories for all ages, though directed to the upper elementary set. Combining excellent storytelling, evocative illustrations, and elements of magic, Schwartz’s collection of a dozen folk tales is yet another award-winner.

To read the complete August 2014 Dayton Jewish Observer, click here.