The God of the Jews

All people can be divided into two groups: Those that claim to be Jews and those that don’t. Among the first group, some practice Judaism.

For 1740 years after the destruction of the Second Temple, this religion had remained essentially unchanged. Today we refer to this classical tradition as Rabbinic Judaism, but it no longer exists. Its destruction began in Germany in 1810 with the idea that some aspects of Rabbinic Judaism might be wrong, and that each Judaist must decide for her/himself which aspects these were and, then, delete them. Orthodox Jews opposed this Reform, many claiming to uphold the ancient Rabbinic tradition. But more than anything else, that Rabbinic tradition was iconoclastic. Once the door is opened that some aspects of Rabbinic Judaism could be wrong, failure to scrutinize all aspects for error amounts to idolatry, i.e., willingness to worship the false.

I doubt Moses’s rod became a snake (Exodus 4: 2-3) or vice versa (Exodus 4:4), for example, or that a donkey ever talked (Numbers 22:28-30). And once the door is opened that errors might exist in Torah, iconoclasts can’t help but wonder about the veracity of Torah theology. New Reform Jews don’t see anything that is eternal (E. Kaplan, A Life of Meaning, Embracing Reform Judaism’s Sacred Path, Central Conference of Reform Rabbis, 2018, p. XV). That’s tantamount to denying the existence of God, and without God, there is no religion, let alone Judaism. Fortunately, our ancient ancestors said very little about God. Some of what they did say, however, seems right.

Make no image (Exodus 20:4; Isaiah 40:18-31) because God is spiritual and cannot be depicted in terms of matter and energy. God is one (Deut. 6:4) and omnipresent (Jeremiah 23:23-24; 1 Kings 8:27; Psalm 139: 1-16) and omnipotent (Gen. 18:14; Jeremiah 32:17) and eternal (Deut. 33:27). Is there any evidence for such a thing as this God? You live it every minute of every day. It’s the laws of nature that hold you to the ground, float aircraft carriers on water, and keep your heart beating and your lungs breathing. These laws of gravity, buoyancy, thermodynamics, nutrition, immunity, etc. are made of nothing. They have neither weight nor volume, but, yet, they exist, and not only exist, but rule the universe (Kiddush). They exist everywhere at all times and show no sign of wearing out, i.e., they seem eternal. As no two laws have ever been found to be contradictory, all laws fit together as pieces of one puzzle. We can’t yet see the big picture, but we can be certain that it exists. And that big picture fits the ancient Judaist definition of God.

Unfortunately, the ancients didn’t stop there. They assumed God loves us (Deut. 7:9; Psalm 86:15), and exhibits character traits that we admire: Compassion, patience, mercy, and forgiveness (Exodus 34: 6-7). After the persecutions and Inquisition, after the Holocaust, such assumptions are sacrilegious. And God doesn’t care about your prayers any more than gravity or buoyancy does. The laws of nature are unchangeable and indifferent to suffering. From the Big Bang onward, evolution has been violent and merciless. The strong devour the weak. And as the sun runs out of gas, it will expand and fry the near planets including earth. It will be the work of nature and there’ll be nothing nice about it. But the laws that make nature work fill the Judaist definition of God.

It has become common to refer to God as Avinu Malkeinu. But this is ridiculous. The laws of nature have neither gender nor political interest. When we attribute such to God we make God seem ridiculous. It’s no wonder the New Reform Judaists are willing to throw God out with the ridiculous assumptions. I suggest throwing out only the ridiculous assumptions. And once we do that, there is no longer a problem explaining why bad things happen to good people (H. Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, 1981). Suffering isn’t bad. Suffering is difficult. After the Holocaust, Jews know it can be impossible. But it’s nature’s way, and that’s God’s way. If not for suffering, there would be no empathy. If not for empathy we wouldn’t be able to love truth, no matter how brutal, and, not only love it, but do so with our who heart and our whole soul and our whole strength. And without that wholehearted love for truth however brutal, there would be no hope for justice or peace.