blogs/rabbi-huberman

Recently, while waiting to board a flight in Washington, I wandered into a bookstore looking for something to read.

Looking over the latest best-sellers, I spotted a gold book in the bargain bin which caught my attention.

It was a marked down copy of a 2004 book issued by the Zondervan Christian publishing house titled The Case for a Creator, and describes the spiritual journey of former Chicago Tribune reporter Lee Strobel -- from atheism to faith.

I was intrigued.

The central premise of Strobel's book is simple. He asks which theory requires more faith of us: that life evolved from a random chemical process, or that the world was set in motion by an intelligent designer?

Strobel explores some questions that occur to all of us over the course of our lives. Is there a divine order to the world? Is there a God, and if so, who or what is this higher power?

And if we believe there is a higher power, how can we explain God's apparent indifference to the evils that manifest in the world?

After a series of discussions, interviews, and experiments, Strobel concludes that the magnificent nature of this world -- the laws of science, the beauty and synchrony of nature -- could only have been produced by a higher power.

"My road to atheism was paved by science," he writes, "but, ironically, so was my later journey to God."

I thought about Strobel's book as I reviewed this week's double Torah reading titled B'har-Bechukotai.

While the first Torah portion speaks about the importance of resting the earth every seven years, the second parashah explores the relationship between God, reward and punishment.

The Torah states, "If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments, I will grant your rains in their season... you shall eat your fill of bread and dwell securely in your land." (Leviticus 26:3-5)

But, likewise, we are also told: "If you do not obey Me, I will discipline you sevenfold for your sins... and though you shall eat, you shall not be satisfied." (Leviticus 26: 18, 26).

In what came to be called the Deuteronomic Theology, the Torah will later explore the idea that God blesses those who obey and punishes those who disobey.

Regardless of where we find this concept, though, I'm troubled by it. Where does that leave the hungry, the homeless, the oppressed?

Are they responsible for their own misery?

Often, when I engage in a conversation regarding the existence of God, I'll hear this: "The idea of a man in a bathrobe with a long beard who lives in the sky and judges me... It doesn't resonate."

I nod. "I don't believe in that God either."

The God that I believe in is founded upon the love shared between human beings and all creation,

In is rooted in the harmony of music. It is imbedded in a glorious sunset. It expresses itself through comedy, drama and the arts. It includes anything and everything we can absorb through our senses which lifts us to a higher plain.

And I do not believe that this is completely random. Rather, it is the intricate work of a divine creator.

One of our synagogue's past presidents, Gerry Wolkowitz of blessed memory, told the story of rushing up a hill during a major battle in World War II.

Of thirty-five men who challenged the Germans, he was one of only two who survived. A bullet aimed at his head became lodged in a roll of toilet paper sent by his grandmother which he stored in his helmet.

He never claimed it was God who saved him; he said it was the kindness of his grandmother. And when he returned to the United States, he pledged to use his life force to serve others. And he did.

This week's Torah portion presents us with a challenge. If we believe that the Torah is the exact word of God, as dictated to Moses, then the triad of obedience, reward, and punishment needs to be considered.

But if we believe that the Torah was redacted by pious and righteous men reflecting the values and beliefs of their time, then it is up to us to build upon the Torah, and explore its galaxy of potential meanings.

More than two thousand years ago, the great Jewish philosopher Ben Sira wrote: "Let us not seek to understand what is too difficult for us, nor search for what is hidden, nor be preoccupied with what is beyond, for we have already been shown more than we can comprehend."

Contemporary Judaism does not necessarily follow the model of the Torah which describes a God who rewards and punishes.

Rather, many rabbis argue that there exists in this world a godly or divine structure, which was set in motion at the beginning of time. And it is the human being rather than God who pulls the strings of life.

We control Tikun Olam - the healing of this broken world.

We may not always understand how the world is put together, but as I observe the world around us, my faith continues to deepen that our lives are more enhanced by love, selflessness, care, compassion and faith more than by greed, selfishness, jealousy and blame.

I believe in an active engaging God. I believe that prayer works, although we do not always understand God's response.

For centuries, after meals, Jewish people have recited a series of prayers of gratitude titled Birchat Hamazon. At the end of these blessings, a line was included which read, "I have been young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous so forsaken that his children were begging for bread."

It is classic Deuteronomic theology. A good person and his family will always be taken care of.

But does that mean that those currently without jobs, or those living in homeless shelters are somehow evil or disobedient? I cannot accept that, therefore our congregation, among many, omits this line.

Is a righteous person more likely to be taken care of? Perhaps. But it is also important as we evolve the Torah into the future, that we review, reassess and reevaluate our traditional understandings.

God does not wish misfortune upon anyone.

This week's Torah portion inspires us to consider how much of our good or bad fortune is determine by God, and how much by our choices, as individuals and as communities.

I believe, as Judaism reminds us, that the Torah is not found in the heavens. (Deuteronomy 30:12).

It is found on the ground, in our acts and our deeds. It is found in what we do, what we resist doing and what we fail to do.

This is a world, as Strobel argues, that was envisioned by God and is sustained by various systems. How the story ends, though, isn't dependent on either. It's determined by you and me.

And that was embedded by God, at the dawn of time, within the sacred science of creation.

One act, one mitzvah at a time.

Shabbat Shalom v'kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman