Does God Love Spunk?

A famous scene from the classic television show “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” goes like this.

“You have spunk,” says the crotchety boss, Lou Grant.

Mary beams.

Grant concludes: “I hate spunk.”

Perhaps, however, God loves spunk.

Much of the Bible seems to be about God demanding obedience from the Israelites. But what He ultimately wants is obedience to a covenant—a two-party agreement, not a unilateral dictate. He wants Israel to adhere to what they have chosen. And why Israel?

The founding father, Abraham, leaves his native home when God tells him to get up and go. But why did God choose Abraham in the first place? Perhaps Abraham’s quick “yes” was because Abraham had already chosen to reject idolatry—obedience to things or people, rather than a supreme and transcendent power worthy of respect. Abraham later argues with God, not for his own sake, but for the sake of the righteous of Sodom and Gomorrah. He follows God’s instructions to take his son to an altar of sacrifice. Or is Abraham testing whether God will back down? Or is God displeased that Abraham complied so readily?

The family story turns into the story of a people named after Israel. Jacob earns the new name by wrestling with an angel and demanding a blessing before he will cease the fight. Does the angel bless Jacob on behalf of God because Jacob proves to be a valiant contender, even with an emissary of God?

Joseph remains faithful to God while being loyal to Potiphar and to Pharaoh, but never to the point of servility. He does not forget his father or his own people.

God chooses Moses to redeem the people of Israel after Moses risks his life by slaying a brutal slave master. Moses will later argue with God repeatedly—on behalf of the people of Israel.

And what kind of people are the Israelites? When he tries to break up a fight between two Israelites, they ask whether he will in turn kill them if they do not comply. The Israelites are reported to be defiantly robust in the face of increased oppression by Pharaoh. When God calls them a “stiff-necked people,” He is referring to their reluctance to bear a yoke. God despises obedience on the part of the Israelites to human tyrants posing as divinities. Does He really then expect unquestioning obedience from the Israelites to God Himself? Or does He choose the Israelites in part because they do not readily yield to superior power, and their inherent distrust of authority makes their trust or compliance with God’s commands more unpredictable, more worthy when it comes? Does He “remember” the Israelites because in captivity they grow stronger in numbers? Because they have such defiant vitality that Pharaoh can believe the midwives who tell him that they can deliver children all on their own before the midwives can arrive?

God chooses Moses to be the prophet and political leader, not Aaron. At the burning bush, God tells Moses that Moses’ relationship with Aaron will be like that of  God to Moses; God will tell Moses what to say, and Moses will tell Aaron what to say. Aaron is the right stuff to be a High Priest—a meticulous follower of protocol—but not a contender with both his own people and with God Himself. During the Golden Calf episode, the Israelites are anxious over Moses’ disappearance up the mountain; Aaron channels their roiling emotions into building a Golden Calf. Tradition respects Aaron as a “peacemaker”—but tradition also says we should not recite out loud the part about Aaron’s complicity in the Golden Calf episode, as it is an embarrassment to his reputation.

God does not allow the Exodus generation to enter the Promised Land due to their disobedience and lack of faith. Through this, they must transition from any remaining servile mindset and become self-confident battlers for their cause and the Covenant.

God loves David so much that He promises that his house will never disappear. The Tradition is that the Messiah will be a descendant of King David. Did God recognize David’s oversized combativeness when He anointed an obscure youth to be the successor to Saul? David served mightily, sinned mightily, repented mightily.

When Absalom rebelled against David, David ordered the uprising crushed—while preserving his son. David was instead devastated—”Absalom, Absalom, my son, my son”—when he learned Absalom had been killed. David could recognize and admire in Absalom his own spirit—his own will to rule, his own willingness to risk all against powerful forces in the pursuit of the throne.

Before and after King David, the Bible preserves the memory of questioning  spirits. The prophets challenged the elites of their own societies. Kohelet questioned everything. Job wonders about God’s justice. The Psalms are not merely a record of quiet trust and obedience. Some argue with God: “If you let me die, how does that help you? I cannot then serve you.” Others shout defiance to the enemies of the worshipper and of their people.

God realizes that He cannot dwell in the camp of Israel. Sooner or later, their defiance will cause Him to destroy them. So He finds another form of mediation between His infinite power and human willfulness: the rule of His law. Perhaps His original plan was that it be followed strictly and literally. But in the Tradition, His people assumed the power to interpret the law with imagination, at times audacity. In the story of the oven of Akhnai, the sages use the words of God Himself to prove that the ultimate power of interpretation rests in them, not in heaven. God laughs and says, “My children have defeated me.” He is not an angry father, but a proud one.