My Judaism

Taking my morning blog fix, I came across this post regarding an Orthodox Rabbi whose books are being criticised as heretical by a group of Rabbis for interpreting the evidence of science in a way that these Rabbis believe contradicts their interpretation of Torah. What caught my eye about this article (aside from the subject matter) was the author's description of his Judaism:

I have long felt that Judaism has certain big things going for it. The first is that what you believe is almost completely irrelevant to your status as a Jew. I may be a hard-core atheist, but I am not one wit less Jewish than the most orthodox rabbi. I once attended a Bar Mitzvah where the rabbi put it this way: “If you don't commit murder because you believe that human life is sacred and you would never presume to judge who is worthy and who is unworthy of life, that's great! But if you don't commit murder because you are afraid of the electric chair, that's fine too! God'll take that!”

I am a Jew by choice and publicly describe myself as an atheist as well. Joining the Jewish people required me to study Judaism beforehand with a class, to study independently with a Rabbi and to stand before a court of three Rabbis (called a Bet Din) who questioned me and to do a few other things. I discussed my beliefs about God and Judaism during both the class and independently with the Rabbi and I was explicit about my rejection of the literal existence of a personal God. The actual ceremony had me say the Shema (the traditional Jewish prayer: Hear O Israel, The Lord is God, The Lord Is One) and promise to be a loyal member of the community and not to join any other religions. I do not remember being asked about my beliefs regarding the existence or nature of God, but since the Rabbi with whom I had already discussed this matter was present, I would have answered honestly.

Recently I came across this sermon on atheism and Judaism. The Rabbi tells of a post-confirmation class he teaches:

In the beginning of the course, I present various classical and modern arguments to prove God's existence, but I know that the proofs are not working.

So one night, I go to the blackboard and draw Column A, and I ask how many of you believe these statements:
God is merciful
God is just
God is forgiving
God feeds the hungry
God cares for the sick
God raises the fallen
God protects the innocent

Some hands go up, but more do not. Why not, I ask, and the answer is, "I would like to believe, but I can't." Why not? And then they tell me the stories of friends and family, human tragedies in which innocent children have been stricken down by illness. Others point out the atrocities of the Holocaust, the genocide of Rwanda, Sudan, the beheading of innocent people who are captured by terrorists, the murder by suicide bombers. They want to believe but there are facts which stand in the way.

In the next class session I draw Column B:
Mercy is Godly
Justice is Godly
Forgiveness is Godly
Feeding the hungry is Godly
Curing the sick is Godly
Raising the fallen is Godly
Protecting the innocent is Godly

How many believe this? And here there is a flurry of raised hands. "Yes" to Column B, but "No" to Column A. What is the difference?

...

If in Column A your prayer is dependant, passive, acquiescent, in Column B you pray interdependently. You and God are together. You are, in the language of our sages, "shutaf lakodesh Barchu bemaaseh bereshith." You are partners, allies, friends of God. You are indispensable, you are needed, there is in you Godliness and even when you pray, the prayer addresses the Godliness in you and between us.

I like that. Why then do I also call myself an atheist? Honestly it is because I don't really believe in the literal existence of a personal God. I call myself an atheist because I am of the opinion that it is wrong to believe in the literal existence of a personal God. It is a short trip from belief in a personal God to the idolatry such as that practiced by Pat Robertson, Mohammed Atta and Fred Phelps (who worships a personification of his own hatred.) I reject that kind of belief as fundamentally unlike my worldview -- qualitatively different.

I also feel that in discussions of morality, trying to fathom the mind of God (and trying to reconcile multiple views on the mind of God) gets in the way of considering the fundamental point: the forseeable consequences of a given action. It is the relative desirability of the potential consequences of an act that make it right, wrong or neutral. Anything that distracts from this muddies the discussion.

Why then did I choose to go out of my way to join a religious people? I chose Judaism for some of the same reasons that Jason Rosenhouse values his Judaism. In addition to his above statement, he says:

[I like that] Judaism is much more focussed on this life than on the afterlife. In fact, I've gotten so many conflicting answers about the Jewish view of the afterlife that to this day I don't know what that view is.
...
I also like the fact that a rabbi derives his authority simply from the fact that he has spent many years educating himself about Jewish history and tradition. You should trust a rabbi on issues related to Judaism for the same reason you trust a physicist on questions of physics. But the rabbi is no closer to God than the rest of us, and you are free to disagree with him without putting your soul in jeopardy.

Additionally, and most importantly, I chose Judaism because of the love of learning of the Jewish people. Most Jews I know view all teaching and all study as an observance of the commandment to study Torah. Education -- both teaching and learning -- is viewed as a religious and moral obligation (which is why I deplore what happened to Rabbi Slifkin -- particularly that his publisher saw fit to discontinue his books.) I want to be a part of that. I want that for my children.

And lastly, as Jason initially noted in his statement about the relevence of belief to one's Judaism, I chose Judaism because they would have me. I was open with my disbelief in the literal existence of a personal God and they still took me in. And for that I am very grateful.