In this week’s Torah portion, Re’eh, Moses warns the Israelites against giving in to the temptation to worship “other gods whom you have not experienced” (elohim acherim asher lo-y’datam.) Even if that urging comes from “your brother, your own mother’s son, or your son or daughter, or the wife of your bosom, or your closest friend” — if any of these dear people entices you to worship another god “whom neither you nor your fathers have experienced,” Just Say No.
Like most of Torah, this text presumes that other gods exist; they’re just not appropriate loci for worship. (Ah, monolatry.) “Pray to the God you know,” Moses seems to be saying. “Pray to the God Who brought you out of Egypt — the one your ancestors knew, the one you know so intimately and so well.”
But how many of us have really experienced God? How many of us have that kind of personal knowledge? And what can we do to make that knowledge a relevant part of our spiritual lives again?
It’s arguable that within mainstream Judaism, direct experience of God isn’t the point — and it certainly isn’t a prerequisite for Jewish practice. We do what we do because it is the Jewish path. Whether or not we feel confident that actual access to God is the endpoint, we follow the mitzvot anyway. Belief arises through action. If we waited until we felt called to act Jewishly, we might never get there — but if we act Jewishly even absent that “call,” we can bring the call into being for ourselves.
For many Jews today, though, that answer may serve as a distancing factor that keeps us from engagement with the tradition in the first place. Our culture privileges direct experience; it makes sense that in this area of our lives, we feel a particular longing for something we can access in our hearts. We want God to be at the center of our practice. We want our practice of mitzvot to follow from a preexisting closeness to God, not the other way around. We want, as this week’s Torah portion suggests, to be in relationship with a God Who we already know.
Of course, relationship with God — or knowledge of God, to use the terminology of this week’s portion — is a self-perpetuating phenomenon. If I understand myself to be in continual, evolving relationship with the Source of Being, everything I experience comes through that lens. But if I find God to be distant and unknowable, that’s a self-perpetuating phenomenon, too.
That sense of distance may have something to do with expectations. We feel we “should” encounter God in our texts and our liturgy: a loaded notion, because if by chance we don’t, it’s easy to feel that we are somehow deficient or that God isn’t available to us…which can be especially stressful, even painful, as we approach the Days of Awe, a season during which we expect (and intend) to be especially connected with our Source.
One solution is to let go of expectations, and connect with God in whatever way opens itself to us. Maybe that means prayer, offering the words of one’s heart to whatever one understands God to mean. Maybe that means encountering the splendor of the natural world, waterfalls and mountains and rolling hills. Maybe that means finding holiness in relationship with a beloved friend, and extrapolating from that sanctified relationship a sense that all relationships can be sanctified.
And then we can live up to Moses’ exhortation. Instead of harnessing ourselves to other people’s priorities, other people’s understandings of who and what is worthy of worship, we can live out our covenant with God from a place that’s authentic, rooted, and unshakeable. May it be so!
– Rachel Barenblat
Comments (3)
Of course, relationship with God — or knowledge of God, to use the terminology of this week’s portion — is a self-perpetuating phenomenon. If I understand myself to be in continual, evolving relationship with the Source of Being, everything I experience comes through that lens. But if I find God to be distant and unknowable, that’s a self-perpetuating phenomenon, too.
This really resonated with me; I found myself nodding in agreement while I was reading it. In my life, I’ve found the less open I am to the experience of God, the less I feel connected to the Divine. I value my inner skeptic — she keeps me out of trouble sometimes — but I have to quiet her down to have any spiritual experience at all. If I start evaluating my spirituality only in the light of linear, rational logic, my God-experience loses all meaning. If, on the other hand, I can sit with the seeming contradiction of being a rational person and a spiritual seeker, the divine connection opens again and I can let that experience flow through me. It’s a tricky balancing act, but that’s what’s so great about Judaism: we can be skeptical and spiritual at the same time if that’s what we need.
As always, a wonderful d’var. I’m so glad you’re contributing to RT; I always find your d’varim to be perceptive, lucid, and smart. I’ll be pondering your take on the parshah this Shabbat. Shabbat shalom!
I want to say that I very much appreciate how you’ve articulated something about Judaism that has been so meaningful to me as I move forward in my conversion journey:
“Whether or not we feel confident that actual access to God is the endpoint, we follow the mitzvot anyway. Belief arises through action. If we waited until we felt called to act Jewishly, we might never get there — but if we act Jewishly even absent that “call,” we can bring the call into being for ourselves.”
The hope that belief will arise through action is what has made possible my decision to become a Jew. I don’t have any confidence in anything I can say about “God” or “the divine.” All I know is that I have at times experienced an overwhelming but ineffable sense of the preciousness of being and that Judaism as I understand it provides tradition and ritual and language and praxis consonant with that experience. Judaism locates my experience in a community and a history that enriches and deepens it.
And I honestly can’t say whether that has anything to do with God or not.
Just as I can honestly say that I don’t trouble myself with trying to find out, not beyond attempting to “act Jewishly” and to, as you say, let go my expectations. I don’t know what, if anything, I’ll ever come to believe about God. Maybe all I’ll come to believe is that action is enough.
Dear Rabbi, I am a christian and I dearly love the jewish people. I would love to know everything about you. My prayers and all my love goes out to your people.I have such a need to be taught by you, so I can have all the understanding of God. Thank God for everything the jewish people have given to us, we can never say how much we thank you. Please consider me as becoming your friend, that would be such an honor to me.Thank you again.
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[...] Like most of Torah, this text presumes that other gods exist; they’re just not appropriate loci for worship. (Ah, monolatry.) “Pray to the God you know,â€? Moses seems to be saying. “Pray to the God Who brought you out of Egypt — the one your ancestors knew, the one you know so intimately and so well.â€?”(The God we know- Radical Torah) [...]
[...] “It’s arguable that within mainstream Judaism, direct experience of God isn’t the point — and it certainly isn’t a prerequisite for Jewish practice. We do what we do because it is the Jewish path. Whether or not we feel confident that actual access to God is the endpoint, we follow the mitzvot anyway. Belief arises through action. If we waited until we felt called to act Jewishly, we might never get there — but if we act Jewishly even absent that “call,â€? we can bring the call into being for ourselves. [...]
[...] “It’s arguable that within mainstream Judaism, direct experience of God isn’t the point — and it certainly isn’t a prerequisite for Jewish practice. We do what we do because it is the Jewish path. Whether or not we feel confident that actual access to God is the endpoint, we follow the mitzvot anyway. Belief arises through action. If we waited until we felt called to act Jewishly, we might never get there — but if we act Jewishly even absent that “call,â€? we can bring the call into being for ourselves. [...]
[...] Aug 9th, 2007 by Silly Old Bear Parasha Re’eh Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17 - Haftarah (Readings from the Prophets): Isaiah 54:11-55:5 “In this week’s Torah portion, Re’eh, Moses warns the Israelites against giving in to the temptation to worship “other gods whom you have not experiencedâ€? (elohim acherim asher lo-y’datam.) Even if that urging comes from “your brother, your own mother’s son, or your son or daughter, or the wife of your bosom, or your closest friendâ€? — if any of these dear people entices you to worship another god “whom neither you nor your fathers have experienced,â€? Just Say No.Like most of Torah, this text presumes that other gods exist; they’re just not appropriate loci for worship. (Ah, monolatry.) “Pray to the God you know,â€? Moses seems to be saying. “Pray to the God Who brought you out of Egypt — the one your ancestors knew, the one you know so intimately and so well.â€?”(The God we know- Radical Torah) [...]
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