MY RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY-PART THREE: "PRAYER" AND "SPIRITUALITY"

WHAT PRAYER ACCOMPLISHES?

Of the three major types of prayer (i.e., praise, gratitude and petition), it is the prayers of petition that create problems for some people. The reasons vary: we expect an immediate answer that fails to materialize; the text of the prayer is inadequate either because of its archaic nature, patriarchal language or non-inclusive character; sometimes we even equate nobility of expression with profundity of thought. In reality the crux of the problem is theological. Heschel once said, “The issue of prayer is not prayer; the issue of prayer is God” (Man’s Quest for God. New York: Charles Scribner’s, 1954, 58). Consequently, if you believe, you can then pray. For a long time I, too, subscribed to this notion. However, recently, I realized that people could struggle with prayer and theology at the same time. As theological views become clearer, prayers too become more authentic. Prayer is a natural need of every human being. The question is what we expect from it? Here below are my conclusions:

        a)To help create a positive prayerful mood, one needs an inspiring text and sublime music within an appropriate physical setting.

        b) Prayers should be read not as legal briefs but as poetry pointing to something higher.

c) One should refrain to pray for the impossible, for God works through the laws of nature, and God is not likely to change the course of events no matter how fervent the prayer or pious the individual.

d)  It is more important to express one’s goals and aspirations through prayers than to expect an answer for them. If we are able to formulate our thoughts clearly and turn them into a program of action, the deed itself becomes our answer.

e)    Prayers do not change the world outside, but give the worshipers a better insight into themselves. As the Gates of Prayer had it, “Who rise from prayer better persons, their prayer is answered.”

f)     Even if, at the moment, it is not possible to enter into a prayerful mood, one can and should identify with the community as part of the worship experience. By praying together we can strengthen one another.

THE QUEST FOR SPIRITUALITY

I do not see any difference between religion and spirituality. The second is an expression of the first. For me, spirituality is “the awareness of being in the presence of God,” no matter how God is defined in Judaism. Even though “spirituality” implies a dichotomy between body and mind, which is more Greek than biblical, it is often narcissistic in scope and anti-intellectual in practice. The quest for spirituality is here to stay because it is based on the realization that we are not at the center of the universe, that science cannot answer all our questions, that we need to relate to something or someone bigger than us, and, above all, because it is grounded in our search for purpose and meaning in life. 

          Each individual needs to find his/her own appropriate spiritual path. In my book Six Jewish Spiritual Paths, I have identified six paths through which one can express his/her own spirituality: a) Acts of Transcendence; b) Prayer; c) Meditation; d) Ritual; e) Deeds of Loving kindness; and f) talmud torah -Study. These are only examples. It is possible to add other paths. However, it is important to include a social component to any of these paths in order to avoid the accusation that they are “me-oriented.”

       Spirituality cannot be imposed. It has to be discovered. I found mine through torah lishmah, the “study for its own sake.”

MY RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY-PART TWO

PART TWO: “RELIGION”

The universe works in wondrous ways. However, this recognition does not eliminate the problems we face in our daily life, either because of the limitations of our  bodies, the unfairness we encounter in our dealings with others, or even when we fight natural disasters not of our own making. We are devastated when tragedies mar our existence. Most of us can understand and accept that people will eventually pass away, but we find it very difficult to deal with the death of loved ones, either at the hands of others or because of natural calamities. We do not live in a perfect world, and certainly do not know all the intricacies of the universe.  Life is mysterious, and, at times, even unpredictable, requiring a wholesome perspective. For many, religion does that. 

But what does the word “religion” mean? Some people derive it from the Latin “relegare” meaning to re-examine carefully, and others from “religare” meaning to connect (with God). Even though the second one is the most popular understanding of the word today, it is still vague. What does it mean to connect with God? What does God mean? Hebrew does not have a proper word for “religion.” In medieval times, we find dat, which can mean law, custom or faith. In modern Hebrew a dati is a religiously observant person. 

Of the various definitions of religion, I believe, Erich Fromm (1900-1980) has provided the broadest one. He argued that religion gives the individual a “frame of orientation” as well as “an object of devotion.” Each of us has a “frame of orientation” through which we view the world, and “an object of devotion” to which we pledge ultimate loyalty. The question is how to identify these “frames” and “objects?”  

Maimonides (d. 1204) defined religion as “to (intellectually) know God.” For Mordecai Kaplan (1991-1983), “the essence of every religion is the human quest for salvation (i.e.., self-realization).” In Abraham J. Heschel’s (1907-1972) view, “Religion is an answer to man’s ultimate questions.” Roland Gittelsohn (1910-1995) proposed one in line with his religious naturalism: “the study of the mutual spiritual relations between human organisms and their total cosmic environment.” I prefer the one advanced by Alvin Reines (1926-2004): “Religion is the human person’s response to the conflict of finitude,” namely, how do we deal with the realization that we are all limited and are destined to die one day?  In this sense, I consider everyone religious because we all have the same concerns and expectations. Whether we are Jewish, Christian, Muslim (or other), how we personally respond to our existential questions becomes our religion.

MY CONCEPT OF GOD

In my book, The Many Faces of God, I have summarized my view on God in these words: 

“Like others, I, too, went from stage to stage in my theological development. I consider myself more of a researcher and teacher rather than a systematic theologian. I like to look for legitimate options, and make them available to my students and readers as viable and authentic responses to matters of life and death. As an individual I, too, had to struggle with questions of existence, and looked for explanations that made sense to me. I gave up my childhood notion of classical theism, because my logical mind and inquisitive nature would not yield the conclusions I was asked to accept. I find mysticism appealing but not totally compatible with my rationalistic tendencies. I am not satisfied with the claim of the religious humanists that God, as the highest images of ourselves is capable of answering our queries. Also, I cannot conceive of a theology that looks at the universe from the divine perspective. I believe theology starts with our own questions, and ends with our tentative answers.

I am more attracted to the views of the religious naturalists who maintain that there is an energy that sustains the universe. Based on observation and analysis, I see a certain order in the world around us, and conclude, much like some of the medieval thinkers and even a few early rabbis, that this order implies an ordering mind, or in my case, an ordering power and energy that stands for God. The laws of nature, I argue, are simply a manifestation of this universal energy that makes possible for me to exist. And for this, I am very appreciative, and express my thanks to God through prayers of gratitude and works of loving-kindness that benefit my family and community. I affirm the freedom of the human will, and can live with the realization that I don’t have all the answers for the tension that exists between the realities of good and evil, because I do not know all the inner workings of the universe. In the spirit of Spinoza, I say that if we knew how the world operates, we could predict our next move. But alas, this is not within our ability. So, we live in an imperfect world and with limited abilities to understand the mysteries around us, while desperately looking for meaning and purpose in our daily struggles” (pp.250-1).

 

MY RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY; THE LIFE OF INFORMED CHOICE

Over the years, in different lectures and publications, I have identified the main points of my religious philosophy. In an attempt to bring them all together, albeit in a succinct form, I wish to share it in various installments in my upcoming blog postings. Here is the first one:

PART ONE: KNOWLEDGE

I have always been interested in history, for, I believe, we cannot know who we are and what we have done unless we find out where we have been before, and learn from it, for, as George Santayana once said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" (Life of Reason, Reason in Common Sense, Scribner's, 1905, p. 284). Yet, I recognize that there is no such a thing as an “objective” history, because facts still need to be interpreted, and that is purely subjective. Even if one assumed that “facts” could be established through scientific methods (e.g. DNA), they still need to be evaluated, analyzed, sifted through, kept or discarded. As we know, two people can witness the same accident and come up with two different views of it. There is also the possibility that the witnesses would ignore or discard some of the facts, just as every historian picks and selects those events that make a difference. There is no end to recording every detail of what happened in the past.

          For centuries, philosophers have been trying to find out how we know, and have developed a series of epistemological theories to explain this puzzle, none of which answers all our questions adequately.  I agree with the empiricists that we know what we experience, and that, limited human beings as we are, complete knowledge of the “thing in itself” (das Ding an sich) is, as Kant remarked, beyond our comprehension or ability to grasp, collect and record. Consequently, if all knowledge is subjective and if we cannot have full knowledge of things, we are only left with historical novels. 

          The realization that our knowledge is limited has led me to concentrate on concepts and values in historical and religious texts that are open to interpretation. Now, that is something we can argue about. Some will approve of these notions, others will take exceptions, but at least no one would claim that we are dealing with “the Truth,” which is both elusive and unattainable.

          The discussion about values, however, requires that we acknowledge the variety of valid positions on similar subjects. This search for choices has informed my entire rabbinic and academic career from the very beginning. Thus, for example, in Finding God (NY: URJ Press, 1986) and in Many Faces of God (NY: URJ Press, 2004), I pointed out that throughout history Jewish thinkers have maintained a variety of God concepts that are based on the principle of the divine unity. We don’t know what or who God is, but we can cite a number of Jewish views about God from which people could select as one as their own. Similarly, in my book, Six Jewish Spiritual Paths (Vermont: Jewish Lights, 2000) I viewed spirituality from a wider perspective, and offered a few options (such as, spirituality through study, meditation, ritual, good deeds etc.) to highlight the variety of spiritual experiences in Judaism. 

The search for religious choices can only be possible through study. Hillel used to say lo a'm haaretz hasid (“an ignorant person cannot be pious.” See, Avot 2: 6).  Reform Jewish teachers have insisted that the choices we make must be “informed” choices. We must know in order to choose.

THE STARTING POINT: THE SENSE OF WONDER

When I wake up in the morning and realize that I am alive in a world that operates in reliable yet mysterious ways, I am moved to express gratitude to God that made me part of it. Abraham J. Heschel once wrote, “Wonder or radical amazement is the chief characteristic of the religious man’s attitude toward history and nature.” (See, God in Search of Man;  Philadelphia: JPS, 1962, 45). The awareness that the universe has an intricate composition has led many, including me, to revere life. Not only am I in awe before the workings of the world, but I am equally struck by the way our bodies operate harmoniously most of the time. I view human beings as bulks of energies stimulated by an inner force. How does the heart know to beat regularly? It is marvelous to realize how our digestive system works. The ancient rabbis, noting this wonder, even penned a prayer to be said after one wakes up: “Blessed are You, God, who has formed the human body in wisdom, and has created in it intricate passages, vessels and openings. It is clear to You that if one of them is blocked or opened, we could not stand before You. Blessed are You, God, who heals all flesh in a wondrous way.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: If you wish to receive my postings regularly, please sign up as a fellow in rsonsino.blogspot.com

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WOULD YOU LIVE IN PARADISE?

                                                    Adam and Eve in Paradise 
                                    by Peter Wenzel (1745-1829)

For thousands of years, people have dreamed of living in the hereafter in a place called Paradise, enjoying a comfortable, easy life. To me that would be the most boring place in the universe. Let me explain.

The idea of “paradise” (an old Persian word that is also found in Hebrew, pardes, meaning “orchard” or “garden”) goes back to the ancient Near Eastern as well as other Mediterranean societies. The Sumerians referred to it as “Dilmun,” the Greeks spoke of “Elysian Fields”; the Hebrew Bible has gan e’den (Garden in/of Eden) and the Arabs mention “Djennet.” According to some ancient Rabbis, in paradise (also referred to as ‘the world to come’) “There is neither eating nor drinking; no procreation of children or business transactions, no envy or hatred or rivalry; but the righteous sit enthroned, their crowns on their heads, and enjoy the luster of God’s presence” (BT Ber. 17a). The Quran describes Djennet as a place where people enjoy all kinds of delicious food and wines, but also the company of wide eyed-beautifully shaped wives ( Sura 54). 

In medieval times, Dante (14^th cent.) and, his Jewish counterpart, Immanuel ben Solomon of Rome, came out with different images, all of them based on speculation and wild imagination.

To me paradise, however conceived, sounds like a dull place, with nothing to look forward, where work has no meaning and, no matter what you do, your future is assured. Is this the kind of life we want?

I prefer to live in a world, here on earth, which, though not perfect, is open to possibilities for personal growth, where work gives meaning and purpose to one’s life, where love creates deeper bonds, where the realization of our human limitations and our eventual death provides an incentive to do something good for others. I go with the Psalmist who declared, “The righteous shall inherit the land, and live here in it forever” (Ps. 37: 29). I personally would skip the “forever” part. After I am gone, the energy I represent will, I assume, become part of the energy of the universe, and my name will endure as long as some people remember it. 

The Bible mentions that Adam and Eve lived in gan e’den but were kicked out, because, having eaten from the tree of knowledge, they could now attempt to eat from the tree of life and become immortal like God (Gen. 3: 23). Most Christians refer to this story as the “Fall.” Though there were some Jews who did share this belief (see, II Esdras in the Apocrypha), mainline Judaism has viewed this parable, not as a Fall, but as the emergence of conscience, which, for me, is a good thing. I think the biblical story of Paradise is telling us that humans must accept their limitation and mortality, and that with knowledge comes the responsibility of making moral choices. 

So, keep dreaming about paradise, if you wish. As for me, I am happy to live in a real world, here on earth, with all of its imperfections, where I can grow, feel, love, learn, and mature. I admit, however, that a good health and a few bucks would make things much easier.

Rifat Sonsino

Nov. 2012

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Note: If you wish to receive my blog postings regularly, please sign up as a fellow in www.rsonsino.blogspot.com

"GOD CREATED"-WHAT DOES "CREATED" MEAN?

When we read an ancient text, we tend to read it through the eyes of our contemporary culture, but that does a disservice to the original material written under different assumptions. A good example is the famous Creation story in the Bible.

When medieval thinkers discussed the biblical story of creation, they maintained that this had to be “ex nihilo,” namely “[creation] from nothing.” Otherwise, God would have to compete with another divinity that is eternal, negating the belief in monotheism. However, when ancient people thought of creation, they did not worry whether creation had to be “out of nothing,” because that was not the way in which they usually conceived of “creation.” For people in ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, creation was more like assigning a function to an already existing matter. In fact, in ancient Egypt, creation was thought of taking place daily! This reminds me of the Midrash that tells us that God went on creating other worlds and destroying them  until God created the one in which we live (Gen. R. 3: 7) as well as the rabbinic prayer that praises God for renewing the works of creation daily: “In Your goodness, You daily renew creation” (Mishkan T’filah, p. 228). 

  

In the Bible, there are two parallel creation stories: In the first (Gen. 1: 1-2:4a), God creates the world by uttering a word: “God said,’ Let there be light’; and there was light” (Gen. 1: 3),” whereas in the second (Gen 2:4b-24), God, working like a potter (yotzer), creates (yatzar) Adam (see, Gen. 2: 8) by giving shape to matter, as if it were, with his hands . The editor/s of these stories did not consider the issue of creation out of nothing. It is only modern translators who, reflecting the medieval debate, rendered the very first verse of Genesis as: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” This is a wrong translation, as some medieval rabbinic commentators, Rashi included, already pointed out. In Hebrew bereshit is not “In the beginning,” but “in the beginning of” [creation]. Thus, the new Jewish Publication Society correctly translates, “When God began to create heaven and earth..….God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light.” Therefore, the first created item was “light.” This approach seems to be more in line with modern scientific explanations of the “creation” of the universe, the “big bang,” when billions of years ago, a huge molecular cloud collapsed and fell under the influence of gravity; ever since, the universe appears to be expanding.

 

“Light” --This is what we need in our time: not medieval assumptions or superstitions, but a scholarly and critical study of ancient texts that would give justice to the editors’ intention, whether we agree with them or not.

Rifat Sonsino

Nov. 2012