The Linguistic Method of Abraham Joshua Heschel: Interpretative, Linguistic, and Cognitive Aspects

Abstract

Abraham Joshua Heschel proposed a linguistic method that he applied in his interpretation of biblical texts and rabbinic teachings. A central feature of this method is the reinterpretation of certain terms beyond their direct, literal meaning. While this approach is rooted in earlier traditions, Heschel gave it a distinct conceptual formulation and regarded it as a key component of his theological vision. This article articulates its structure and explores how it may be understood through the lens of contemporary research on creative language. To that end, the article compares Heschel’s view with selected philosophical and theological models and introduces cognitive tools, such as metaphor theory and semantic networks, that may support a more systematic understanding of his exegetical style. The aim is not only to deepen our comprehension of Heschel’s linguistic method, but also to propose a path toward advancing his broader vision through the integration of traditional thought and modern research.

1. Introduction

Abraham Joshua Heschel proposed a linguistic method that he applied in his interpretation of the Bible and in his engagement with the words of the Sages. A central feature of this method is the interpretation of certain terms in ways that are not confined to their direct, literal meaning. Heschel regarded this approach as a continuation of the exegetical tradition of the Sages, and he encouraged his readers to adopt it as part of his vision for repairing the world.

While earlier Hasidic sources and prior thinkers employed similar interpretative strategies, this article does not attempt to trace the origins of Heschel’s method or to provide a comprehensive account of its various components.1 Rather, it focuses on Heschel’s own conceptual articulation of the approach and seeks to connect it with contemporary research on creative uses of language.2 To that end, the article first compares Heschel’s exegetical method with those of Martin Buber and Franz Rosenzweig; it then explores modern definitions of creative language that align with Heschel’s interpretative logic; and finally, it introduces a cognitive-scientific perspective that offers empirical and theoretical tools for analyzing and enriching non-literal language use. Together, these perspectives aim to provide a foundation for applying modern research methodologies to deepen our understanding of Heschel’s linguistic method and to promote practical advancement of his broader vision.

2. Heschel’s Linguistic Method

In his book God in Search of Man, Heschel distinguishes between ‘descriptive’ words and ‘indicative’ words. Descriptive words represent something defined and familiar, adding no new meaning to our understanding. In contrast, indicative words point to something that is intuitively perceived yet not fully comprehended. These words enable the reader to encounter a reality that cannot be directly grasped and provide new meaning to it. “His analysis of language as metaphor of the ineffable enables readers to interpret traditional texts, and retrieve their sanctity” (Kaplan 1996, p. 45). Heschel emphasizes that this distinction is not between different words but between the various ways words can be read. Thus, the same word can function as either a descriptive word or an indicative word, depending on the context. Heschel uses the word ruach [wind or spirit] to illustrate his point, as it can describe the physical movement of air or convey an abstract meaning, as in the poetic line “the wind sighs before the sunset”. This example demonstrates the flexibility of interpreting a specific word and its capacity to bear different meanings over time, even within similar contexts. Through this distinction, Heschel establishes a foundation for a non-literal, flexible, and dynamic reading of the Bible.

Although this definition appears at the beginning of Heschel’s central philosophical work, he seldom provides explicit examples of reading biblical words as indicative words in his writings.3 One notable application of this reading method is found in Heschel’s interpretation of the verse, “You shall not kindle a fire… on the Sabbath day” (Exodus 35:3). Heschel expands the meaning of the word ‘fire’ to include the metaphorical ‘fire of discord.’ His daughter, Susannah Heschel, recounts that her father was careful to avoid discussing politics or divisive matters on the Sabbath.4 Notably, Heschel draws a halakhic conclusion, or, at the very least, a practical Aggadic application, from his linguistic method in this instance. This suggests that his method is not merely interpretative but also serves as a legitimate tool in halakhic discourse.

Another example Heschel employs is the phrase “Torah min ha-Shamayim” [Torah from Heaven], which serves as the Hebrew title of his book Heavenly Torah. Throughout the work, Heschel explains that this phrase teaches the necessity of seeking the ‘Heaven’, meaning the will of God, within the ‘Torah’, which he identifies as the revelation of God.5 Heschel introduces a meta-halakhic principle suggesting that halakhic rulings should aim to align with the divine will as expressed in the sources and tailored to the specific context. Here, Heschel extends the importance of his linguistic method, presenting it as a tool for rethinking halakhic and theological principles in light of historical circumstances.

It should be emphasized that while Heschel provides new and specific interpretations of these words in his examples, he does not claim that his interpretation is the sole or definitive understanding of these words. Rather, Heschel’s goal is to use these words as a call to adhere to the will of God, which he seeks to uncover in what he hears here and now in the text before him.

Despite the limited explicit use of this reading approach, it can be argued that Heschel’s linguistic method is part of a broader philosophical framework he seeks to instill in his readers, thereby underscoring its significance. Bondi suggested that the primary distinction between descriptive and indicative words lies in their relational dynamics: descriptive words leave the user outside the event as a subject observing an object, whereas indicative words create a dialogue between the individual and reality. Through this dialogue, the person becomes an active participant in a continuous interaction with their surroundings and with God. This explanation aligns with Bondi’s broader interpretation of Heschel’s philosophy, which he refers to as a “phenomenology of response.” This philosophy emphasizes a renewed connection between the individual and the Divine presence within their environment, in contrast to the traditional philosophical separation of subject (the individual) and object (the world) (Bondi 2011). Kaplan highlighted that Heschel’s linguistic approach does not confine words to fixed or univocal meanings. Instead, it allows language to preserve the relevance of doctrines and core beliefs, serving as a thread connecting humanity to the divine. Kaplan argued that Heschel thereby rejects purely scientific-philological interpretations of scripture as well as rigid Orthodox exegeses, aligning more closely with conservative streams that acknowledge the ambiguity of the written word and enable flexible interpretation. This flexibility stems from the fact that the language used by prophets to convey divine messages to humanity attempts to distill the experience of divine revelation into words, a task that cannot be entirely faithful. Thus, the purpose of language is to inspire listeners to derive a deeper meaning from the words, one that reflects the will of God (Kaplan 1996).

Another way to connect the core of Heschel’s thought is through the necessity of contemplating the entirety of tangible reality as hints of the will of God. The use of words as clues to God’s will is merely one manifestation of this broader mode of thinking.

Heschel’s writings highlight the significant role of creative thought and language in the personality of the religious individual in general, and the prophet in particular. The prophet requires linguistic creativity to comprehend the prophecy he receives. He must “train the intellect to sense what lies beyond logic.” (Meir 2018). The prophet is tasked with expanding the meaning of the words spoken to him and the visions shown to him in prophecy, going beyond their literal significance to understand what the words and visions indicate (Heschel 1955/1976, p. 185).

A striking example of the need for creative use of language in prophecy can be found in Jeremiah’s vision:

The word of the Lord came to me: ‘What do you see, Jeremiah?’ And I said, ‘I see a branch of an almond tree.’ Then the Lord said to me, ‘You have seen well, for I am watching to see that my word is fulfilled.’6

In this instance, there is a clear use of language that transcends the literal interpretation. The prophet is instructed by God to expand the straightforward meaning of the vision (in this case, based on the phonetic similarity between the Hebrew words for “almond tree” and “watching”) to convey the prophetic message. However, Heschel does not limit himself to non-literal readings where the Bible explicitly does so. Instead, he directs individuals to understand God’s words as a whole in a broader sense, beyond their narrow meaning. This approach stems from the inherent difficulty of using language to describe the indescribable. To overcome this challenge, Heschel suggests reading words that refer to God, such as “Holy, holy, holy,” in a non-literal manner.

3. Buber and Rosenzweig’s Method of Biblical Reading

To better understand Heschel’s innovation in this context, we can position his approach alongside the biblical reading methods of Martin Buber and Franz Rosenzweig. Both suggest that repeated words appearing in different parts of a biblical narrative should be used to delve deeper into the author’s intent. Like Heschel, both Buber and Rosenzweig regard the sacred scriptures as a revelatory experience, containing actual revelation. The text of the sacred scriptures is one that continues to speak, addressing the reader as though it were a revelation unfolding in the reader’s present moment (Ben-Pazi 2012, p. 195).

In his article Our Contemporary and the Bible, Martin Buber addresses the problem of the “separation between spirit and life”—the modern individual’s divide between their philosophy of life, which arises from simple experiences, and the realm of spirit that exists around them yet remains disconnected from their daily life. Buber argues that the Bible seeks to bridge these two realms, bringing the world of spirit into the simple human world. He demonstrates that certain words recur in the description of the creation of the world in Genesis and in other parts of the Torah. These recurring words serve to connect different sections of the Torah and reveal the inherent link between the spirit and the human world.

The first connection that Buber elaborates on is the link between the spirit described in the creation of the world and the spirit mentioned in various other contexts. Buber explains that the full meaning of the word ruach [wind or spirit] is dual: “It is not only the movement of air but also the spiritual element; that is, something that was initially unified splits into two aspects, one through nature and one through spirit.” When the spirit first appears in the Torah as the “spirit of God hovering over the waters” (Gen 1:2), it retains its original form, encompassing both aspects. Only in its later appearances in the Bible does it take on one of the two meanings. On the one hand, it appears as the purely spiritual spirit, as in the transfer of spirit from Moses to the elders of Israel. Immediately afterward, it assumes its physical meaning, as the wind that carries the quail from the sea to the people in the wilderness. This division in meaning highlights the necessity of both aspects and simultaneously reminds the reader that, in their original form, the two types of spirit are one: “The action of God through spirit and the action of God through nature are intertwined and dependent on one another.”

The second connection Buber makes in this article is between the creation of the world and the construction of the Tabernacle. He identifies words and phrases that recur in both narratives, such as the counting of days, culminating in the seventh day; melakhah [the act of work]; and the use of the root kalah [to complete] to describe the conclusion of the task. Through this connection, the Torah teaches about the relationship between God’s act of creation at the beginning of Genesis, representing the spiritual realm, and humanity’s ongoing work in the tangible world.

Another connection discussed by Buber is the link between Shabbat Bereshit [the Sabbath of Creation] and the commandment of the Sabbath given at Sinai. Here, Buber highlights the word VaYinafash [and rested], which appears in the Bible only in these two contexts. It is attributed once to God’s rest after completing the act of creation and once to the rest of the animals on the seventh day. Again, Buber notes, the Torah illustrates the connection between the spiritual, divine world and the simple, earthly world, which includes even animals: a connection between morality and spirit (Buber 1978).

In general, the reading method proposed by Buber utilizes similar words to connect ideas across different contexts and to reveal meanings that emerge from the relationship between these ideas. The words themselves serve merely as a means of connection; their meaning is already known to us prior to the act of reading, and the connections they create do not provide us with new insights into the words themselves.7

In his essay “On the Secret Form of Biblical Stories,” Rosenzweig argues that biblical stories serve a unique purpose. Unlike typical narratives, they do not merely recount events, describe God’s actions, or convey a command or message. Instead, biblical stories intertwine proclamation and revelation. “Every revelation contains a command, and every teaching contains a proclamation”.

For instance, the creation story, which might initially appear as an epic tale, also conveys the commandment of the Sabbath. Conversely, stories that seem at first glance to lack moral judgment often embed implicit evaluative messages. Rosenzweig highlights this in the story of Balaam’s donkey, drawing attention to the parallel between Balaam’s words to his donkey—“If I had a sword in my hand, I would kill you now”8—and the angel’s words to Balaam: “If she had not turned away from me, I would surely have killed you by now and spared her”.9 Rosenzweig finds that this repetition emphasizes the ironic message delivered by the angel to Balaam and, by extension, to the reader of the story.

In another example, Rosenzweig connects the story of Jacob stealing Esau’s blessing to the story of Laban deceiving Jacob by substituting Leah for Rachel. In the first story, Isaac says, “Your brother came deceitfully and took your blessing”10. In the second, Jacob confronts Laban: “What is this you have done to me? Did I not serve you for Rachel? Why have you deceived me?”11 Rosenzweig explains that “suddenly, the connection between act and retribution, as intended by the narrator, becomes clear.” (Rosenzweig 1960).

The literary technique Rosenzweig proposes for uncovering hidden messages in the text resembles Buber’s approach. Both focus on tracing repetitions of words and phrases, whether within a single story or across different narratives, revealing an additional layer of meaning to the reader.

Rosenzweig and Buber, each in their own way, argue that “the revelation in the text is not a revelation that occurred in the past, with the text merely recounting its existence in the present; it is a revelation occurring in the present moment.” (Ben-Pazi 2012, p. 195). Similarly, Heschel also invites the reader to listen to the voice of God emerging from the text. However, unlike Rosenzweig and Buber, Heschel does not seek the text’s hints or message only through comparisons of words and stories12. He also expands the understanding of the words themselves, thereby paving the way for interpretations that may vary across different times and contexts.

The methods of Buber and Rosenzweig can be viewed as complementary to Heschel’s approach, together forming a multifaceted “indicative” reading of the biblical text. While Buber and Rosenzweig seek to uncover deeper layers of meaning through tracing structural connections between recurring “leading words”, Heschel proposes a semantic transformation of individual words beyond their literal meaning. For Buber and Rosenzweig, recurring words function as thematic junctions that reveal hidden messages across disparate narratives. In addition to that, for Heschel, the word itself may act as an “indicative” clue, where the literal definition serves only as a starting point for an internal religious and moral imperative. Despite these technical differences, all three thinkers share a fundamental view of the Bible as a dynamic, living revelation that addresses the reader in the “here and now”, demanding an active response to the divine voice emerging from the text.13

4. Definition of Metaphor and Creative Language in Various Disciplines14

The use of creative language manifests in several forms, such as idioms, metaphors, parables, allegories, similes, and more. Different fields of study have employed these expressions in varied ways, with each adopting its own definitions and examples. When we trace the concept of a metaphor, its dictionary definition states:

a word or phrase used to describe somebody/something else, in a way that is different from its normal use, in order to show that the two things have the same qualities and to make the description more powerful, for example She has a heart of stone (Oxford Learner’s Dictionaries n.d.).

This definition and its accompanying example illustrate that a metaphor consists of one word about which something new is being expressed—‘heart’—and another word—‘stone’—which departs from its usual meaning to describe the first word.

Similarly, in the field of cognitive research, some define a metaphor as a combination of words or concepts originating from domains that are not directly related. This allows for the explanation of a relatively abstract domain—the target domain—by employing concepts from a more concrete domain—the source domain. The use of metaphors enables the description of situations and experiences that cannot be conveyed through ordinary language (Pinker 2007/2008, p. 227). For example, “Marriage is a journey” is a metaphor that allows the speaker to communicate ideas about shared life experiences between partners by utilizing tangible motifs from the world of journeys. Despite this straightforward definition, research indicates that it is challenging to encompass all types of metaphors under a single definition (Reimer and Camp 2009), and there are various theories regarding the cognitive processes that facilitate the understanding of metaphors (For a review, see Holyoak and Stamenković 2018).

In addition to the specific definitions of various uses of creative language, numerous studies, particularly in the field of cognitive science, link the use of creative language to creativity in general. These studies often adopt a broad definition of creativity: “The forming of associative elements into new combinations which either meet specified requirements or are in some way useful” (Mednick 1962). Research has shown that this definition underpins various forms of creativity, such as the ability to create and understand analogies, generate theories from a set of data, and produce and comprehend metaphors (A. E. Green 2016; Mednick 1962, pp. 220–32). Faust and Kenett expanded on linguistic creativity, explaining that metaphors, an emblematic expression of creative language, entail the combination of concepts from different domains of knowledge, such as “the brain is a computer”, or words from distinct semantic fields, such as “a broken heart”. This combination allows the expression of new ideas that cannot be articulated otherwise, yet carry significant meaning (A. E. Green 2016, pp. 28–35; Faust and Kenett 2014; Kenett et al. 2014). The connection between two distant ideas requires an expansion of the meaning of each concept beyond its literal definition, enabling their meanings to “touch” one another.

It should be noted that while research in the past regarded metaphors as belonging solely to the realm of literary expression, it is now widely accepted that they are an essential part of everyday language, as well as scientific discourse (Bowdle and Gentner 2005). Moreover, some have argued that metaphors are not merely a linguistic expression but a central component of human thought, as we tend to understand abstract concepts through concrete ones (Lakoff 1993).

Unlike the relatively restrictive definitions of metaphor in cognitive research, the study of biblical exegesis in rabbinic literature broadens the term to include cases where there is no clear source and target domain. Instead, it applies to words that have one meaning in their textual context, with rabbinic interpretation adding an additional meaning.

For example, Shinan defines as a metaphor the Midrashic interpretation of the word “sand” in the verse: “He looked this way and that, and seeing no one, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand”.15

““He concealed him in the sand” as there was no one there other than Israelites. He concealed him before Israel, who were likened to sand. He said to them: ‘You were likened to sand; just as sand, a person takes it from here and places it there and no sound is heard, so too, this matter will remain concealed among you and will not be heard’.”16

In Samely’s book on the interpretation of the Bible by the Tannaim in the Mishnah, he bridges the language of linguistic research with the scriptural exegeses presented in the Mishnah. He highlights how the Mishnah often assigns a specific meaning to a word in the Bible, leading to a new reading of the entire sentence in its biblical context. His general approach asserts that the interpretative methods of the Mishnah cannot be categorically aligned with the definitions employed in linguistic research. Instead, he proposes a set of interpretative “resources” that combine various linguistic definitions in different ways, without clear or uniform definitions across contexts. To derive new meanings, the Mishnah disregards conventional linguistic rules used to determine word meanings, such as context or historical background. Instead, it employs a productive reading, akin to the use of metaphor. In doing so, Samely expands the concept of metaphor, as Shinan suggests, and provides a common foundation for all forms of extending the meanings of biblical words beyond their literal sense (Samely 2002).

In a similar vein, though from a different field of knowledge, Rabbi David Cohen (known as “The Nazir”) argued that various forms of non-literal language share a common foundation and represent a central feature of Jewish thought throughout the ages. He refers to this characteristic as “the allegorical template”, which he sees as distinguishing Jewish thought from the Western tradition, rooted in Greek philosophical thinking. Under this defining characteristic, Rabbi Cohen includes different types of literature and interpretation, such as wisdom literature (e.g., the Book of Proverbs), allegorical interpretations of sacred texts, such as those of Philo, and parts of the Midrashic literature of the Sages.17

The various approaches to understanding the term metaphor and its inclusion within a broader framework of creative language align with Heschel’s distinction between indicative words and descriptive words, as discussed earlier. For example, Heschel’s expansion of the verse “You shall not kindle a fire in any of your dwellings on the Sabbath day”18—interpreting the word ‘fire’ as an indicative word rather than one describing physical fire—parallels the use of the term metaphor as employed by Shinan. This interpretation responds to the need for definitional flexibility, as noted by Samely, and also aligns with cognitive research, which identifies a shared foundation across various uses of creative language. Furthermore, it should be emphasized that Heschel views the use of creative language not merely as a literary or linguistic tool but as an expression of a general mode of thought. This perspective corresponds to contemporary cognitive research and is also echoed in The Nazir’s insights. It is possible that Heschel refrained from defining his method in conventional research terms within the field of linguistics (or other rigid terminologies), seeking to avoid confining his approach within strict boundaries.

5. Applying Modern Research Tools to Heschel’s Method

Positioning Heschel’s method within the realm of cognitive research opens the door to applying the theoretical and experimental tools of this field to his thought. Utilizing modern methodologies, such as pedagogical interventions for enhancing creative language use, neuroimaging, and semantic network analyses, not only deepens the understanding of the creative aspects of Heschel’s language but also allows for an examination of the relevance of his ideas to brain mechanisms and contemporary research contexts. This approach bridges traditional intellectual frameworks with cutting-edge scientific domains.

In addition to the specific brain regions active during the processing and use of creative language (Faust 2012; Rapp et al. 2012), research has also identified networks composed of multiple brain regions working together in this activity: the Default Mode Network (DMN), associated with the ability to generate creative ideas, and the Executive Control Network (ECN), linked to the evaluation of those creative ideas.

The Default Mode Network can be described as a “self-referential thinking” network, meaning it is active in the absence of external demands and is associated with internal thought processes such as mental activity and unconstrained thinking. This network is also involved in semantic and episodic memory processes, divergent thinking, and planning for the future. The regions comprising this network include areas previously linked in studies to memory and retrieval processes. Additionally, a relationship has been observed between cortical thickness in regions associated with this network and levels of creativity.

In contrast to the Default Mode Network, regions included in the Executive Control Network are observed to be active during externally directed cognitive tasks, such as working memory and relational reasoning. However, these regions have also been associated with several activities that require creativity, such as divergent thinking, artistic drawing, and musical improvisation. Additionally, the activity of regions within this network has been linked to various aspects of creative thought, such as flexibility, originality, and, notably, the ability to inhibit dominant, non-creative responses. This inhibition facilitates access to creative ideas (Beaty et al. 2015; Marron and Faust 2018).

Researchers have also proposed theoretical models employing network theory to explain the processes involved in creative language use. At the core of network theory is the perspective that various structures—social, cognitive, and more—can be represented as networks composed of nodes and the connections between them. In the network representing human language, the “nodes” are individual words linked to one another. The structure of the linguistic network—namely, which words exist in it, which words are connected, and the strength of these connections—is shaped by an individual’s experiences (Borgatti and Halgin 2011; Kenett 2018).

By applying these neuroscientific insights to Heschel’s specific examples, one can hypothesize that his reinterpretation of terms such as ruach and Torah min ha-Shamayim involves a sophisticated interplay between brain networks. When encountering the word ruach, the Executive Control Network likely functions to inhibit its most dominant, descriptive meaning, which is the physical movement of air, thereby creating the cognitive space for the Default Mode Network to activate. This activation facilitates divergent thinking and the retrieval of distant semantic associations, allowing the word to be perceived in its indicative sense as spirit or divine presence. Similarly, in the case of the phrase Torah min ha-Shamayim, the Executive Control Network’s inhibitory control over a purely historical or literal reading enables the self-referential processes of the Default Mode Network to bridge the text with an immediate perception of the divine will. This neural synergy provides the biological foundation for the cognitive flexibility Heschel demands, transforming static theological concepts into dynamic pointers toward the ineffable.

Building on these insights, researchers have developed intervention strategies aimed at enhancing metaphor use and comprehension. For instance, the MetaCom training program, based on Relevance Theory, demonstrates that systematic metaphor training—especially when it emphasizes conceptual mappings and cross-domain associations—can improve the ability to produce, explain, and understand metaphors, as well as contribute to broader reading comprehension skills (Tonini et al. 2022).

From a more biologically oriented perspective, recent studies have shown that stimulating the left angular gyrus (AG) enhances novel metaphor production, likely through the temporary suppression of executive control processes (Lifshitz-Ben-Basat and Mashal 2020).

Another experiment explored whether clenching the left hand—hypothesized to activate the brain’s right hemisphere, which is responsible for coarse semantic processing—could improve metaphor comprehension. The results revealed that participants who clenched their left hand identified significantly more novel metaphors as meaningful, compared to those who clenched their right hand or did not clench at all (Noufi and Zeev-Wolf 2021).

Finally, an observational study found increased use of metaphors and analogies during group problem-solving. When research teams were confronted with unexpected findings, they engaged in a collective modeling process in which team members proposed new analogies, compared disparate cases, and arrived at shared conceptual breakthroughs. This dynamic generated a cognitively rich environment conducive to innovative linguistic representations (Dunbar 1999).

While the proposed tools and neuroscientific findings offer a compelling framework for explaining Heschel’s interpretative method, the primary objective is to utilize these methodologies to foster Heschel’s vision. The systematic application of these techniques may enhance the metaphorical capacities central to his vision, while simultaneously providing measurable insights into their cognitive and physiological effects, thus bridging theological inquiry with empirical research

6. Conclusions

This article positioned Heschel’s linguistic philosophy within various fields of research, some of which are not its natural environment. In doing so, it illuminated new perspectives and demonstrated that Heschel’s thought engages not only with the realm of interpretation closely associated with it but also with more distant disciplines, such as linguistics and cognitive science, both theoretical and experimental. The innovation of this article lies not only in shedding light on Heschel’s ideas but also in the very methodology that seeks to bridge diverse fields of research. It opens up the possibility of studying philosophical methodologies using modern research tools. The primary aim, therefore, is to encourage the use of different tools from various research domains to advance a philosophical tradition that, until now, has remained largely confined to the Beit Midrash. In doing so, it fulfills Heschel’s vision, who, in the twilight of his life, concluded that philosophical writing alone was insufficient. To repair the world, he believed, one must be active beyond the walls of the study room.