Not Much to Ask
It should not surprise anyone when Rabbis get asked questions about Judaism. As the religious leaders of the faith, the Rabbis are understandably assumed to have the training to answer questions of law, faith, and even Jewish
History. While some people may find this role annoying, many Rabbis enjoy this role for it allows them to give their own perspectives on issues and (hopefully) provide more accurate answers than someone would find elsewhere. Furthermore, even if the Rabbi does get stumped on a question, there are enough resources and books such that he could readily find an appropriate answer.
Then of course, are those questions which are a little more complicated.
Back when I was a computer programmer I once shared a cubicle with a Hindu woman. In the course of our conversation, we started talking about religion and at one point I was asked, “so, which God do you believe in?”
Um, “which” God?
To people from a monotheistic faith the very question is heretical, but to her it was completely rational. How does a Jew – let alone a Rabbi – answer such a question intelligently and respectfully? Does one stop at saying
that we believe in one God, or does one add “ein od melivado” – there is no other God in existence?
(For the record, I do not remember exactly what I answered and was so flustered at the question that I did not feel it was one of my best).
I have also gotten some strange questions from random blog readers. Recently, a young Episcopalian asked me if I liked being Jewish. Being Jewish was always a part of my life and it is who I am. It would never occur to me to view Judaism in the context of “liking.”
As it turns out, some of the most poignant introspective questions I have been asked have come from non-Jews. Some have been in the process or thinking about converting, others just want to know more about Judaism.
While most have asked about laws and beliefs, others have been interested in the personal experiences and the nature of how being Jewish affects my daily life.
I have also noticed that while these questions deal with the most basic fundamentals of our Judaism, they are precisely the ones that we avoid discussing.
How many shiurim focus on the nature of God, and not just in the thought of a particular Rishon? What about ones that explore personal Jewish experiences? Or let’s put it this way – if you saw a such shiur being advertised, would be interested in attending?
Perhaps people prefer to keep their beliefs private, since it deals with their personal relationship with God. It is also possible that many Jews wouldn’t see the point in revisiting metaphysical issues which probably have
no definitive answer, or worse, being branded a heretic for asking the wrong questions. Others may be turned off by the “hippieness” of those who do like talking about God. Or it could be that people are not interested in
questioning whatever beliefs they have personally accepted.
But asking faith-based questions does not mean that people need to reject everything they have believed; one can easily end up where one began. Furthermore, one does not need to pursue such questions on one’s own. As
mentioned, there are plenty Rabbis out there willing to listen, and able to provide insight.
The problem however is that the lack of such discussion inevitably leads to spiritual complacency. If no one is asking the questions, no one is forced to come up with the difficult answers. In most cases people are shielded by
their communities from such challenges. But imagine for a moment before your next meeting, someone notices your kippah and asks, “So, what’s your God like?”
I’d love to hear your answer.




So, what's my God like? Ineffable. Fundamentally a part of creation. In some very real way, inseparable from creation -- when I look at the world, deep down underneath I'm really looking at God, manifesting in the world. My God is the ultimate source of holiness in my life, and the direction I try to focus my consciousness in. I'm not certain God "cares" what mitzvot I practice -- that's almost too anthropomorphic an understanding of God for me to be comfortable with -- but I do think that our good actions in the world somehow filter through to God (or up to God, or in to God), and that acting righteously in the world is what God put us here for.
At least, that's where I'm at today. Ask me again next week and maybe I'll understand things more clearly.
How about you?
I think this atmosphere of avoiding basic spiritual questions comes from a couple of sources. There is an idea that Judaism is primarily about figuring out what God wants us to do, while figuring out what God is is mysticism. Everyone should be involved in following mitzvot, but it's not required, or even desirable, that eveyone be involved in kabbalah. I think there is also a sentiment that there is something decidedly goyish about an emphasis of mystical speculation over the praxis and study of mitzvot (think Madonna and the Kabbalah Center). Secondly, and you already touched on this topic, I think when it comes to spiritual/hashkafic matters, people generally hold opinions very strongly even when they are relatively unformed. There are two times I remember getting unexpectedly hostile responses while giving divrei torah at the shabbat table. One discussion was on theodicy and the Holocaust, and the other was about Mechirat Yosef and whether or not human bechirah can trump Hashem's hashgacha. Like politics, it might be best to avoid basic hashkafa in friendly company.
Although I agree that the lack of opportunities to openly discuss spiritual matters is unfortunate, I find that basic hashkafic ideas present themselves extremely often during shiurim, even if the shiur is on something that is seemingly more prosaic like parshat ha'shavuah, gemara, or halacha. Maybe aquiring spiritual lessons implicitly while explicitly discussing something else is one characteristic approach within Jewish learning that should be also be appreciated.
Well, I believe in the God who created the universe, who revealed himself to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the only God there is. He is a perfect, all-wise God who is the source of everything that we enjoy, who is the source of justice, but is a patient God who loves the creation as He originally intended it to be and has developed a way to restore the original intention, after the final judgment. Because He is patient, He is waiting for people to repent before bringing the final judgment, and this is why evil is still allowed to operate in the world against His will.
Thomas Gray
topics is the fact that there is no definitive answer. In modern society a
heavy emphasis is placed on information. Everybody has to know exactly what
is going on in their life at a given moment. As a college sophomore I am
constantly asked what I want to major in, what job do I want, and what type
of girl I want to marry. When I respond with "I don’t know yet but I am
looking for an answer" a look of incredulity passes over their faces. The
concept that somebody is "up in the air" is beyond them. Nowadays when
people start questioning the course of their life it is viewed not as a time
for introspection or self-evaluation but rather as a "crisis" that must be
dealt with as quickly as possible (preferably by buying a new car).
What the above paragraph demonstrates is why people would be averse to
discussing irresolvable issues regarding faith: it would require admitting
insecurities. It would involve admitting that we don’t have all the
answers and, in their minds, place their relationship with god in jeopardy.
How can I say that I don’t know? Does that mean I don’t have a
relationship with god? Am I following the mitzvot blindly without thinking?
However, Judaism requires uncertainty. One can never know the status of ones
relationship with God. Unlike modern society we must embrace rather than
avoid uncertainty. We must admit that we don't always have the right
answers. Judaism possesses a powerful tool, faith. Faith allows us to live
life to the best of our abilities without always knowing all the answers.
Bitachon (Faith) is a powerful tool, it is our responsibility to utilize it.
What does my god look like? My god realizes that I am an imperfect being who
is trying to do my best to follow in his footsteps. My god supports me in
my spiritual struggles. My god infuses meaning and holiness into every facet
of life. My god is the same as your god, I just view him from a different
perspective.
(For a more in depth and eloquent presentation of the need for insecurity in
a relationship with god I would recommend reading Kierkegaard’s essay
"Fear and Trembling." In regard to the role of faith in modern society I
would read Rav Soloveitchik’s “Lonely man of Faith”)
~ Marc Fein
Shalom,
Ed Horwitz
Prospective Semicha Student
Maryland, USA