Why don’t we talk about God?
We talk about politics. We gruffly pontificate about the state of affairs in the Middle East – the merit of the settlements, the Palestinian unrest, the most recent outrage from the haredi community. There is never a dearth of commentary on Obama’s performance – or the synagogue rabbi’s performance at that.
We talk about halakha. The yeshivah boys transition ever so subtly into a garbled dialect remarkably like English. The eyes of those not fluent in this world glaze over, and they wait patiently for the conversation to pass. Sometimes, one of the observers will pipe in some ill-fitting remark. The comment falls like lead on an otherwise agile interchange.
We speak about the Torah portion, a go-to topic when the conversation teeters precariously. One of the children is kind enough to grace the table with his or her spoon-fed insights. When that’s over, we comment on the food. We grumble about tuition. We rave about articles. We brag about accomplishments. We ask about afternoon plans, college plans, retirement plans.
What we don’t talk about is God. Somehow, speaking about God has gotten a bad reputation. Missionaries speak about God – eagerly touting the New Testament. Seminary girls, fresh back from Jerusalem, talk about God – the trademark Baruch Hashems punctuating conversations like exclamation points. Eccentric vegan cousins, wrapped in colorful layers and staunchly defending marijuana farming, sometimes talk about God – apparently, they found Him on one of their many trips.
But among the proudly intellectual and even meticulously observant, we balk at the conversation. I have witnessed, at many a Shabbat table, a pronounced hesitation to speak openly and candidly about God. Perhaps this is a singular phenomenon. However, if the observation resonates, help me understand why. And if you conclude, as I have, the state of affairs troublesome, help me change it.
Why the discomfort with speaking about God? In a modern age of burgeoning religious fundamentalism on one side and a flagrant mistrust and renouncement of religion on the other, it is not too difficult to understand why a candid discussion of God is uncomfortable. Speaking about God stokes the raw battle between modernity and tradition. The admission of unqualified religiosity invoked by The Name at once aligns us with a radical, non-rational right, and estranges us from the pristine, sophisticated left. We know an open discussion of God, if it is not an unsentimental analysis of religion’s sociological effects, is distained and disregarded in the higher echelons of academia and liberal thought.
A recent satirical article in The New Yorker, a bastion of political liberalism, poked fun at God’s seeming ‘fall from grace.’ Titled “Public Relations for the Lord” by Jim Windolf, God confesses to his savvy PR rep about the growing disillusionment he has met among previously devoted followers. Starts off God, “Well, in recent years, it seems to Me, My image has taken something of a beating. Wouldn’t you agree?” Comprehending readers smile, either smugly or guiltily, in assent. The article aptly demonstrates an attitude of flippant disrespect towards the concept of God. Constantly rubbing shoulders with this attitude, it is difficult not to be affected.
If we’re scared to sound ignorant on the one hand, we’re scared to sound extreme on the other. Religious extremism has been used to excuse hate, violence, and terror. In his landmark study on religious terrorism, Terror in the Mind of God: The Global Rise of Religious Violence, Mark Juergensmeyer acknowledges the rising mistrust of religion in a post 9/11 world. The trend includes an increasing suspicion and antipathy towards those who act ‘in the name of God.’ We do not want to mark ourselves among those dangerous and mistrusted legions. And so, the name of God is often sidestepped.
We don’t talk about God because we don’t trust our own definitions. Defining God can become a frustratingly circular, and seemingly futile, discussion. Omnipotence, negative theology, foreknowledge vs. free will – the indefinite, even arbitrary, nature of the conversation becomes quickly exasperating. At the end of the discussion awaits the recognition that we never can fully comprehend what we mean when we say ‘God.’ Using a term we don’t fully understand seems somehow disingenuous. So we hold on to what we can understand – or think we can: subjects intended for human analysis, like halakha, and tacitly agree to leave the Unknown unknown.
Talking about God also makes us vulnerable. Perhaps this is partly because we’re not completely sure what we’re talking about. But, more importantly, talking about God verbalizes one of the most intimate, fundamental experiences of our lives. We are naturally more hesitant to throw it open like any other topic of conversation.
When someone speaks about God, he lays his hand face-up on the table. As with any game of cards, the higher the stakes, the more cautious we are to expose; the more resolutely we keep up poker faces. When it comes to a discussion of God, the stakes could scarcely be higher.
But why should we be talking about God? What is lost when we give in to our natural, and understandable, inclinations to just leave God out of the conversation?
Even further than demarcating oneself as a religious person, speaking about God makes the concept real. God begins to live and breathe, not just as an ethereal, amorphous concept, but as an active, interested force within one’s own life. It is no wonder a life of rigid halakhic observance begins to seem inane and cumbersome when divorced from the Divine concept. What is a commandment without a commander? How many degrees of separation can we tolerate before actions begin to seem absurd? When we make God real, the intricate details of an observant halakhic lifestyle fall into place. There are, of course, those who observe a halakhic lifestyle for different reasons. However, for someone who believes he is eating this food, reciting this blessing, shaking this palm branch, wearing these clothes, or speaking this way because God said so, eliminating Him from the portrait seems tragically counterproductive.
As observant Jews, we do ourselves a grave disservice by editing God out of our conversations. It is a sadly slashed portrait when community politics, Israel, halakha, or even Torah becomes the pan-ultimate focus of Judaism. If we’re not embarrassed to believe in God, we need not be embarrassed to talk about Him.
It’s time to reclaim the G-word. Not for God’s sake – for our own.