Klinghoffer takes up Ten Commandments

Despite flawed theses, author offers tinder for heated debate

By Kimberly Marlowe Hartnett

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"I’m no prophet, nor a moral exemplar, nor a visionary to whom God speaks," writes David Klinghoffer. "I’m a journalist, one whose observations are informed by the universally relevant insights of traditional Judaism."

With those words, Klinghoffer delivers one of the few noncontroversial statements in "Shattered Tablets: Why We Ignore the Ten Commandments at Our Peril." This is not a big surprise. The conservative columnist and author from the Seattle area is no stranger to contrarian, provocative stands.

In his previous book, "Why the Jews Rejected Jesus," shortcomings were outweighed by Klinghoffer’s productive, sometimes exhilarating arguments.

He is more ambitious and less successful here. Instead of a well-argued thesis, urging us to use the Ten Commandments as benchmarks, sources of wisdom, or at least useful challenges, "Shattered Tablets" delivers indictments that are too sweeping or unsupported, from an author who says moral growth is crucial, but seems to doubt that we’re up to effecting it.

However—and this is a big, fat however—none of this means that this book should be avoided. Here’s why: Flawed as it is, Klinghoffer tackles something many of us wonder about and would explore in more meaningful ways if given good tools. How does a diverse, democratic, capitalistic, and if you believe that tired statistic always dragged out about the Pacific Northwest, largely "unchurched" or secular society, find common moral ground? Or, for those given to the darker view, how can we begin to transcend the chaos, inhumanity, even evil, that troubles our world?

Whether you consider the Ten Commandments a cornerstone of your beliefs, the stuff of myth, roots of present-day law, or even if you’ve never seriously considered them at all, there is no more intelligent place to begin when pondering the moral present.

As Klinghoffer sets out to use the commandments as "moral barometer" of our lives, he cites contemporary anecdotes he finds in Seattle, as a "microcosm of what happens when biblical religion falls away." He views it, and presumably Portland isn’t far behind, as a morally bankrupt place with values turned upside down: We’re fetishistic about physical fitness at the cost of more meaningful introspection; having children is looked down upon; once-discretionary decisions like smoking are strict societal taboos, but we lack the moral backbone needed to get tough on street crime.

As scholars of religion and ethics are wont to say, that dog don’t hunt.

Yes, we’re more fitness-aware than our more-religious ancestors, but Klinghoffer knows better than most that some darn convincing Talmudic cases are made for stewardship of one’s health. His generalization that a higher rate of childless couples reflects a disdain for having children is ludicrous, as is the claim that we might assign secondhand smoke a higher number on the worry list than they give to crack dealers.

Other claims: The region’s liberal clergy urging tolerance from the pulpit are morally weak; citizens who support the law of the land allowing abortion are self-deluding; and Jews who ignore their priestly role and fail to keep the Sabbath holy are to blame for the larger society’s eschewing of a holy, reflective day of rest.

These and other of Klinghoffer’s assertions leave one with the nagging feeling that he was onto something, but lost the thread before he made his argument about the causes of moral confusion.

"Shattered Tablets" could be dismissed by those who find Klinghoffer unconvincing (or infuriating), but would better be seized for the valuable opportunity it is.

Between the book’s covers is kindling for starting terrific, intelligent, ongoing arguments and perhaps even thoughtful change—in one’s own head, around the Shabbat table, in a chat room—whatever the medium for meaningful debate.

Even the Northwest’s many pagans who so annoy Klinghoffer would likely relish such a pastime.