Shabbat Yitro: Belief
“I am Ad’nai, your God, who took you out of Egypt” (Exodus 20:2).
One of the most difficult subjects to write about is God. There are seven different names for God in the Torah and some people like to say this is evidence that the early Israelites worshipped several gods. But it is possible to explain this by saying that God is multifaceted, and we can relate to God, or God can engage with us, on a personal, national, or universal level. As the great scholar Umberto Cassuto said, God has a generic name and a person-specific one. But whenever you ask people to explain what they mean by God, you will find that no two people can come up with the same description of what it is that they believe in. Belief is such a very hard term to define or understand how it is used.
The idea of “Believing in God” has, thanks to Maimonides, become deeply embedded in Jewish religious life. But what do we mean by belief? The Hebrew word EMuNa ( (אמונה translates as belief, and comes from the Hebrew root A/OMeN אמן)) which means to agree, be certain about something or to trust. A nurse is an A/OMeNet ((אמנת someone you trust to look after your children. When Moses kept his hands during the battle of Amalek and his hands got tired, Aron and Chur held them up, as we learned last week, the Torah says that his hands were Emuna, strong until the sunset when the battle was won. It is a conviction. It is not a rational, theological proposition. Rather a statement of religious certainty.
This makes sense. You can command somebody to do something, to keep the Shabbat, honor your parents, not to murder or steal. But how do you command somebody to believe in God?
Belief is not an action. It is a thought process, and we know how difficult it is sometimes to control our thoughts. Besides how can you check if people who say they believe in something if they do or do not, other than through their actions? It’s easy to say I believe. This is why we have the concept of Emuna Peshuta, a simple, basic belief, as well as the more sophisticated belief of Maimonides.
Significantly, the first of the Ten Principles (העשרת הדיברות)does not say “You must, or you are commanded to believe in God.” The Hebrew words that are used are simply “I am the Lord your God.” This is a statement of the fundamental principle of the Torah. But then how do you engage with this idea? We humans are very different. Some of us engage through feeling and emotion, and some of us through rationality and logic. Some of us have sophisticated brains and others are less complicated. Some of us are attracted to music and art, others to practical things. The first of the Ten Principals asserts is that the idea of a Divine dimension is fundamental to Judaism. This spiritual dimension complements and adds to the physical. This is why the Torah talks about the world as being the product of a period of physical time the first six days, which is then completed by the addition of a 7th day which is the Lord’s Day, a day of spirituality.
What this conveys is that there is a standard that we need to aspire to. To make sure that we don’t bend morality or ethics to suit our needs and our desires. A kind of gold standard, a line that cannot be crossed. The value of the Torah is precisely that it is more than just being rational. There may be a rationale to a lot of the laws, but there are a lot of laws without rationale. All human moral systems so far have been shown in one way or another to come up short. Because we humans have this capacity to convince ourselves of anything. And therefore, to protect against abuse, religion and a belief in God can be safety nets, to help us cope with life while keeping within a moral framework. Unfortunately, human beings do distort religion as well as everything else, so there are no guarantees.
The challenge is for each one of us to find that relationship with God, whether it is rational or mystical that suits our personalities and mindsets. Such a relationship is a very personal one. For some, it is inspirational, for others it is comfort. The idea of God, or an experience of God, is a quest. This is the true journey of religion. It can be taught. But it cannot be forced.
Rabbi Jeremy Rosen lives in New York. He was born in Manchester. His writings are concerned with religion, culture, history and current affairs – anything he finds interesting or relevant. They are designed to entertain and to stimulate. Disagreement is always welcome.
