Where is God?

The Russian cosmonaut, Yuri Gregarin, is alleged to have quipped upon reaching outer space, ‘I looked and looked but didn’t see G-d’[1].  Well, he looked in the wrong place and wasted loads of fuel in the process.   But, if G-d is not floating in the majesty of outer space, where could He be?  

                One nuance in an easily overlooked verse tells us where to find G-d.  As always, this is for those interested enough to look for Him.[2]  It says in verse 17:22, ‘And G-d finished speaking to Abraham and G-d went up from upon Abraham’.  Sounds heavy, but these two words give away the secret.  The verse should have said that G-d went up from Abraham.  They were having a conversation, and when they were done they went their separate ways.[3] But the way the verse literally reads, G-d was on top of Abraham. Our medieval teacher Rashi brings mystical wisdom to the rescue,’…we learn from here that the righteous people are the chariot of G-d’. 

                There is no need to go to outer space in search of G-d.  There is a simpler way to find G-d.  He resides with those people that emulate him, and the only challenge now is to find those people who are, unfortunately, few and far between.  When we act in a way that befits a sublime being, people recognize that there is G-dliness behind everything. And, more than that, G-d’s presence goes out of hiding and is given a place to dwell in the world. When people complain that how can we believe in a G-d we can’t see or interact with, the answer is that we can.  However, we don’t have enough divine representatives around today to facilitate the interaction. 

                This is supported by real life stories. More than any philosophical proof, the people who leave the fold are those who were negatively influenced by a person who purported to represent G-d, but did just the opposite.  On the other hand, those who have joined the fold are there in large part by the people they have met along the way. They see people sleeping four hours a night, fueled by an inner passion and joy that bespeaks of the divine.  Obviously, the Torah itself has an inescapable depth that even a skeptic has to admit.  But when it is lived properly, even the skeptic has to rest his case because that is when they meet the divine itself.  

               

---

[1] Others claim it was a fabricated quote by anti-religious Russian propaganda

[2] And I don’t recommend looking only at times of desperate need because people don’t appreciate being used; people want a real relationship based on mutual respect and love, so too G-d, though if you just can’t help it, He is forgiving enough to overlook this oversight at times of crisis

[3] Again, G-d is obviously transcendental and infinite and never goes anywhere. But in His relationship with us, He constricts himself so that we can relate to him. So all of this is from our limited perspective but does not reflect reality. 

The opening Scene

            There is rare disorder called congenital analgesia.  Really, it should be every person’s dream to contract the disease.  It is a disorder that takes away the sensation of physical pain. Many people are scarred by physical trauma that happens to them and it can take years to heal from such wounds.  But, it turns out that pain is an indispensable part of a human being.  Sufferers of this disease live shorter lives because pain is used in the body as a tool to signal danger.  Therefore, without signals, the people with the disease, especially as children, get in to many dangerous situations that can cost their limbs and life.  So while they may not suffer physical pain, there is no lack of tragedy to their condition, and if asked, they would probably tell you they prefer some pain.

            What we just discussed is that pain is a crucial part to normal function.  Rather than a foe, pain can be our most trusted friend.  But it is much deeper than that.  There is a type of pain that defines humanity more than any other-shame.  Right after woman was individualized and separated from man, the Torah’s first description of the internal state of man is that ‘they were both naked, but they were not ashamed’.[1]  Of all the descriptions we could have ascribed to man in the opening scene, it chooses a negative description; he was not something.  Not only that, is shame the most important thing to tell us about man?  Tell me he was really happy to finally have a wife, or tell me about the love he felt at that moment. Why is shame, or lack thereof, the fundamental snapshot that tells us about what man is all about?

            Shame is a strange pain because it is spiritual.  We are wired to have a gauge of spiritual progress. When we meet our spiritual standard, we feel great.  If we don’t, we feel a strange pain called shame.  Shame is the proof that by man the physical world finally met the spiritual one.  They were now going to be interwoven and their destinies tied.  Not surprisingly, the face is the canvas for this pain.  Our face reveals our inside (in fact, the word face in Hebrew, פנים, means inside) more than any other part of our body and that is why it carries the physical manifestation of the pain.  

            The Talmud states that a person who embarrasses, ‘or whitens the face’ of another it is like he killed him. It sounds like hyperbole in order to scare children into following a nice moral lesson.   But it really isn’t.  Death is the process of destroying a body to a point where it can no longer house a soul, and therefore, they disconnect.  Shame is destroying the dignity of a soul and so it temporary leaves the body- it is the same disconnection.   

            Perhaps, the biggest ailment to the world is that this pain is nearly extinguished.  This pain is too difficult to deal with for most, and so it is better left numbed. The problem is that shame is our fuel to grow.  Through the pain of knowing what we could be, we strive.  That is why it is the most important attribute to man.  The first thing to know about man is that he was the first creation that could connect the spiritual and physical world and that his goal in life is to reach his spiritual potential on pain of shame.

---

[1] Based on Rabbi Lopiansky Bereishes

[2] Genesis 2:25

A fragile existence

               

               Things that are brittle are easy to break.  They are inflexible; therefore, if the environment exerts enough pressure to move it out of its narrow range of motion, it breaks.    Similarly, in a person, being set in one’s ways is a dangerous proposition in a variegated environment.  If the environment is no longer suited to that way of being, then a person ‘breaks’.   To become strong requires the ability to adjust and that is one of the central messages of the Sukkah.

                For seven days the Talmud says, ‘get out from your fixed dwelling and dwell in an impermanent one’.  If you do so, you will gain tremendous strength.  It is strength through flexibility.  Among the many ideas behind the Sukkah, the idea of impermanence can apply to a person’s character.  Get unstuck from a fixed way of acting and learn to be impermanent, or in other words, learn to use more than one way- expand your repertoire.

                Mystically, the Sukkah is related to our forefather Yaakov.  He is the only forefather to have dwelled in the Sukkah.  Why is Yaakov the forefather that is intimately linked to a Sukkah? Because he represents truth, and truth is an amalgamation of both right and left, spiritual and physical, love and justice.  He is able to shift according to the correct way to be given the environment.  And when someone is able to accomplish that, he can never break because he is always in resonance with what is happening around him.  

               It is an ironic world.  From the outside, the Torah seems to be a rigid cage of iron clad rules. From the inside, the whole goal is the opposite- to be internally pliable, to free our self from a set way of looking at the world.  As an important aside, the process of Talmudic learning is the ultimate training ground for this goal.  It deals with intellectual flexibility, and learning to see other perspectives.  As we get to Sukkos, we kick our self out of the house and learn to be internally diverse.  Things can always change and we need to be ready to change with it.      

Developing intolerance and Time travel

At the heart of the Yom Kippur service is confession, and behind the confession is serious intolerance.  Over and over again, ten times, we confess out loud that we sinned.  The weirdness of it is that there is no Rabbi sitting across from us, and G-d definitely knows what we did or didn’t do, so no use telling him; the confessions seems to be to our self.  But how does that help?  We also  know what mistakes we made so how does speaking it out achieve anything? 

The reason is because we are inclined to be very tolerant of our self.  When we make a mistake, there is a tidy excuse that explains everything. In every situation, we view our self as essentially good, but in certain situations, we were pressured or stressed and made an uncharacteristic mistake.[1]  With others, we are not so tolerant.  When others are late or cranky, we chalk them up as people with serious issues and hearts of stone.  It takes much more effort to say they are great people who made temporary errors.  But that is what we should be doing. Increasing our tolerance for others and decreasing the tolerance for our self.  The point of confession is to identify and admit our short comings.  The word confession, ודוי is related to the word ודאי, or certain.  Our mistakes are real.  No, we are not amazing people who made uncharacteristic mistakes every once in a while. We are decent people who make characteristic mistakes all the time, and that is intolerable. But, this point is difficult to do. Admitting failure and intolerance of our self is not the natural way to go.  So ten times, we have to tap our chest and, say, this is the real me and I can’t stand it. 

After recognition comes regret. Things get really spooky here. To the extent that we regret what we have done is to the extent that we catapult backwards in time and turn an indecent action into a source of inspiration and dedication, and that is a miracle.  In nature, if you break a bone, it may heal but it will never be the same again.  In the realm of the metaphysical, we can travel back in time and things not only heal, but become a fountain of strength.  Why? We appreciate how far we were from the ideal, and yet, we were not abandoned.  That gives us energy to move forward with more confidence than before.[2]  This is the goal of Yom Kippur.  It is a time to get intolerant of our self and then feel a deep regret as we realize what could have been. With that, we turn previous iniquity into fuel for a brighter future. 

---

[1] Insight from Rabbi Berkowitz

[2] Rav Dessler Mictav M’Eliyahu Part II page 80

The best sport

There was little that could get me to synagogue as a kid.  The stagnant prayer in a foreign language and their unending length had little attraction for me.  My sampling was when it was longest, on the High Holidays, so it really didn’t give a good impression.  I’d take frequent breaks in the hallways with equally apathetic preteens and we’d wander around the hallways or venture outside to the park.  There was one thing we were interested in, one thing we didn’t want to miss- the sounding of the shofar.  A few minutes before, word would quickly spread through the hallway that the man with the beard and shiny head had taken out the curved three foot horn and was about to blow it.  Granted, there were speakers in the hallway, which for a Rabbi sermon was good enough, but not for a shofar.  So we raced back in before they’d seal the doors (once the blowing actually started no one was allowed in or out).  And we were not only there to time how long the tekia gedola would be and to witness the shofar blower with the shiny head turn red as a tomato.  We wanted to hear the shofar because even as an immature pre-teen, the shofar was the one thing I could relate to.  Why?

Human beings gravitate to be part of something bigger.  That, I believe, is the foundation for the sports fan, the music fan, and fan of causes.  Whilst in a stadium we experience something beyond our self and become part of a greater unity, part of a team and part of an audience.  Complete strangers are temporarily united under a superficial banner, and despite the absurdity of grown men doing arbitrary actions with a ball, we can’t get enough of it.  We are so invested, that despite the arbitrary rules made up by arbitrary people, these teams can affect our emotions whether they win or lose.  But that is a small price to pay in order to take part, albeit passively, of something greater. 

 I think this same attraction is part of what keep the shofar relevant.  It begins with unity, a smooth blow that rings- tekiya.  Then, a second blow breaks it up into a series of shorts pieces and then a third blow reunites them again at the end. We do this process of putting pieces back together into unities over thirty times on Rosh Hashanah.  The shofar is the message that the goal of life is to take fragments and unite them (including ourselves), and therefore, become part of something bigger   We are made for that. It is one of the most intuitive things that mankind does time and again, if sports is any indication. We relish the chance to make things unite. The problem is that we sell our self short. Sports are a great start, but we could do better.  Rosh Hashanah is when we recognize that there is One unity that is infinitely better than every other, and to unite with that is our ultimate goal. 

 

The Holiday that wasn’t

                In a couple of weeks, we will not be celebrating a major holiday.  A few days later, six to be exact, we will celebrate a major holiday.  It is strange.  On the non-holiday, the most magical of substances was created. It is a substance that fills our life without intrusion.  It dances off walls and slides through cracks.  It allows the mind to investigate and it initiates peace. It helps us complete both the most mundane and the most complex tasks imaginable.  Such a substance deserves a day of recognition.  Where is ‘light day’ on the Jewish calendar?  Or, if we don’t want to put light in the spotlight, how about an earth day to commemorate the creation of the world? Instead, there is nothing.  On the 25^th of Ellul-the day the world was created- there is not a single Jewish ritual to appreciate that day of infinite creation.  However, six days later we have Rosh Hashanah.  That is the day man was created and it is one of the holiest days of the year.  Why the stark contrast?  Aren’t rainforests, waterfalls, mountains, deserts worth an honorable mention, or maybe even a greater mention than man?

                Despite all the wonders of the world, they pale in comparison to something latent in man.  Free will is one way to describe the unique difference between man and everything else, but that term does not do it justice. The magical implications of free will needs to ‘wow’ us more than all phenomena science has to offer, but instead, we relegate it to the realm of nice philosophical ideas .  So let’s revive the term in a way that will change the way we look at it and ourselves.

                Free will does not describe that tense moment when a scoop of vanilla ice cream is put in front of us along with a scoop of chocolate ice cream and we are told to choose one.  That situation may appear like we make a choice, but really, we introspect as to what we desire more.  It is not a choice but an investigation into our given desires.  A choice means that two options are put before us- one difficult and one easy.  The easy one is the wrong choice and the difficult one is the right choice.  The magic is that we are able to override the natural inclination towards the easy one and do the difficult but the right one.  Now that is pretty fancy override software, unique in the animal kingdom, but still, is that better than light?

                The answer is yes, not only because we have the override software, but because what it entails.  The only independent actor in the world is G-d.  By definition it is what makes Him G-d.  He is reality and there is nothing that causes Him.  Everything else in the world is dependent on G-d.   Even light has no independent existent.  It exists because G-d wants it to.  The only semi exception to this rule is the human being.  Granted, we are extremely dependent in terms of the life force that keeps our heart beating, but there is an important caveat.  We are given a tool with which we are able to earn our existence through correct use of free will. If we do so, we no longer exist because of G-d, but we exist because we’ve earned it independenty.  It is the closest thing to an independent existence or, in other words, it is the closest thing in the universe to G-d and that beats light any day.  

               

               

                  

psychological stability

There are reasons that psychologically the religious should be better off- they have to be.  A religious person is not allowed to be overly morose; ever.   Real belief in spirituality entails an overarching goodness to the world that applies in all situations, even the real tough ones.  But let’s be more specific because platitudes are not enough especially when we have trouble seeing that the platitude is true, namely that the world is good.

The Torah introduces this week (Deuteronomy, 14:1) that a person is not allowed to cut himself when a person he cares about dies.  Why? The verse prefaces, because we are G-d’s children.   The logical question is, so what? How does being G-d’s children alleviate the present tragedy we are in?  The answer is that a child shares characteristics with his parents.  And one of the characteristics we share with G-d is that we have an eternal aspect.  Therefore, the view of death from our perspective is very different than the reality. The person may have disappeared from the present place but he did not disappear altogether.  It is like the case of a father who sends his son to do business in a certain place. After a period of time, it is time to come home.  The place where he was temporarily may miss him but for the son himself, reunification with his father is a joyous occasion.

However, there is a problem.  If death really ain’t so bad, why mourn at all?  Like the Greek Stoics, we should remain calm and exude joy for the truth of the heavenly reunion.  That approach is not entirely true because it dismisses the fact that while we are G-d’s children and contain an aspect of the eternal, there is also an aspect within us that is finite.  That part cannot understand the tragedy from any other perspective other than the current absence of the person.  For the human side of us it is appropriate to mourn, and if we don’t we are considered cruel.  That is the balance a spiritual person strives for- a mitigated mourning that reflects both the reality of this world and the next.