June 12th: Shelach Lecha
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
When Moses sends out twelve spies to scout the Promised Land, he and God expect good reports. After all, the Land “is flowing with milk and honey.” However, the spies’ reports are mixed: Joshua and Caleb are all excited, but the other ten spies are pessimistic. Their negativity is contagious, and when they tell the people that God’s mission is impossible, the people complain and beg God to call off the whole plan. God expects faith from the people, and, when it is not forthcoming, we find ourselves wandering in the wilderness. Perhaps the next generation will have enough gumption—and enough trust in the Lord.
While the Biblical message about faith in God is straightforward and simple, we should not let that simplicity distract us from the real challenges of faith. What does it take to believe? What are we to believe? What do we do if the stories and instructions we are told are not believable?
While some people believe the religious traditions they are taught, others doubt what they have learned about God and God’s expectations. Most people think in terms of Theistic Absolutism, the definition which sees God as an all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-good Entity—a God Who is present everywhere and conscious, taking an interest in human and earthly affairs and occasionally breaking into the natural order to perform miracles. Some people believe that this definition of God is accurate, but others do not. Some “non-believers” declare themselves Atheists or Agnostics, but others feel that a more accurate definition of God can be found.
Among these searchers for a better understanding of God are some significant philosophical and religious thinkers. One was the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle. He believed that God focuses only on goodness and perfection—and does not actively participate in the world. God’s perfection, however, exerts a kind of moral magnetism: goodness and wisdom so compelling that they attract us and influence us to more intelligent and noble ways of living. Aristotle was not Jewish, but one of his most significant disciples (centuries later) was the great Rabbi Moses Maimonides—a Halachic scholar and philosopher who dominates Jewish thinking.
Maimonides’ Aristotelianism was tricky because the organized Jewish community insisted on traditional belief and language. The only way he could manage this delicate position was by couching his less traditional understanding of God in a kind of secret code—maintaining Tradition but understanding the cosmos as did Aristotle. A few centuries later, another Jewish philosopher, Baruch “Benedict” Spinoza, did not feel the need to subscribe to traditional Jewish language. When he determined that God is not so much a person as the essence or fabric of existence, the Amsterdam Jewish community excommunicated him. He was only re-embraced Jewishly by the Haskalah, the Jewish Enlightenment, more than a century later.
Many Kabbalists and Hassidic Masters also understood God in other-than-Theistic ways—though they phrased their thinking in traditional-sounding or mystical language. To them, God is far more than the traditional imagery of Avinu and Malkaynu (Father and King). They taught that God and the Universe are the same—that God is everything in the universe (including us!). Often called Pantheists or Panentheists, these Jewish mystics read a verse in the Torah in which God agrees: “Know therefore this day and keep it in mind that the Lord alone is God in heaven above and on earth below; Ayn Od/there is nothing else.” (Deuteronomy 4.39)
The modern philosopher, Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, believed that God is supranatural (rather than supernatural)—that God is the power or natural process in which humans attain self-fulfillment or improvement. Other moderns imagine God as the human conscience—finding a proof-text in the Biblical story of Elijah’s “still, small voice.” (I Kings 19.11)
And then there is the Limited God concept—an insight of Lurianic Kabbalah that was also derived by modern philosopher Charles Hartshorn. This view sees God as omnibenevolent but not omnipotent—that God is very, very powerful, but not completely powerful over everything in the universe. In that small uncontrolled realm, imperfection and even evil happen. Rabbi Isaac Luria spoke metaphorically of God being injured and taught that the mitzvot are ways for us to help God heal—a process known as Tikkun Olam. Many find this approach helpful because it acknowledges the obvious imperfections in the world and also challenges us to help God fix the world (Tikkun Olam). Many of us know about the Limited God concept from Rabbi Harold Kushner who, in his book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, describes how this understanding of God helped him cope with his son’s tragic illness.
Why are there so many theories about God? William James provides a helpful explanation. He defines Religion as the human response to an undifferentiated sense of reality—to the “more,” an undefinable, non-empirical feeling of a Presence. Those who are religious feel this Presence and seek to approach, understand, and live in a conscious relationship with it. This is the basis of all religions—and it explains the process in which religions originate, evolve and improve.
Some people are uncomfortable with such a non-empirical thought process—or they doubt the veracity of religious authorities. They often dismiss the religious process and call themselves Atheists or Agnostics. Others may feel the Presence, but they do not feel comfortable with the religious responses humans have crafted—or with the human management of religion. They find that organized religion gets in the way of their experience with the Presence, and they often describe themselves as “spiritual but not religious.” I think I understand their point but wonder if better or improved religious possibilities would help them—would help them relate consciously to the Presence. As theologian Paul Tillich observed, Religion is just the symbolic language of the spirituality we feel. When one wants to speak, language can be very helpful.
The imagery and metaphors of religion can be wonderful and breath-taking—and help us to an apperception of the Divine, but they can also distract us from the truths and beauty at the heart of existence. We can become so focused on the metaphors that we fail to see beyond them—fail to use them as conduits to God. Let us remember that Religion is not God—that it is a tool to help us in our searching for God. Religion is important, but it is not the goal. As the Baal Shem Tov taught: “When wood burns, it is the smoke alone that rises upward, leaving the ashes below. So it is with prayer. The sincere intention alone ascends to heaven.”