I have been fascinated
with atheism and agnosticism for many years, ever since in my teenage years,
when I came to the conclusion that I was an atheist, rejecting the juvenile
notions of a Big Daddy God in the sky that had been inculcated in me by childhood
religious training. And I was also fascinated with the notion that Judaism,
this great originator and propagator of monotheism, could conceivable
accommodate atheism. I first encountered that notion when I boldly, if not with
some trepidation, announced to my Modern Orthodox rabbi that I was an atheist.
His immediate response, without batting an eyelash, and which made my jaw drop,
was that I could be an atheist and still be a good Jew. And he never gave up on
me through the last day of his life, something that I grew to greatly appreciate
over the ensuing years. Now that I have come sort of full circle (not in the
traditional sense of ba’al t’shuva by
any stretch of the imagination, but a believer in a God of my definition), I
remain fascinated with atheists and agnostics who express a semblance of
spirituality while questioning the existence of God. In my investigations over
the years, I was surprised to encounter Jewish Secular Humanism and the growing
“spiritual but not religious” movement. I have addressed Jewish Secular
Humanism at length in my book, IVRI: The
Essence of Hebrew Spirituality and atheism and agnosticism in that book and
an article on the Yoga and Judaism blog, which was refined in the book, “For
Atheists/Agnostics”. In short, Jewish Secular Humanists are a loosely organized
group who are atheists, in that they reject traditional notions of monotheism,
yet recognize spirituality nevertheless, and embrace a Jewish identity
associated with left-of-center social activism and values that derive from
Jewish teachings aside from monotheism. One vehicle for its expression is a
periodical called Jewish Currents,
whose editor is Lawrence Bush. In the summer 2013 edition of Jewish Currents, there is an article
that is an interview/dialogue between Lawrence Bush and Rabbi Arthur Waskow, a
progressive rabbi and long-time social activist whose social and political viewpoints
are often closely aligned with those of Jewish Secular Humanists, but who casts
his worldview as derived from theological notions that can be gleaned from an
inspired and creative renewal-type approach to traditional Jewish sources. I
have long felt a kinship with the Secular Humanists and Waskow, and had the
great privilege several years back, to spend some time in teaching sessions
conducted by Waskow and his wife, Rabbi Phyllis Berman. One of the Jewish Yoga
Meditation Practices I developed was inspired by their teachings about God/YHWH
being the Breath of Life, similar to “prana” in the yoga tradition, which is
touched upon in the discussion between Bush and Waskow. Below is an excerpt
from that discussion that I wanted to share with you here:
LB: I find, as a
secularist – which means basically that I always have to put quotation marks
around the word “God” before I can proceed with the discussion – that your
imagery and metaphors help me relate to Jewish teachings, and even Jewish
theology, which I might otherwise ignore. For example, your teaching about the
pronunciation of the biblical name of God – YHWH – that if we sound it out
slowly, it sounds like a breath. God becomes defined as the breath of life,
which even an atheist can recognize as important, and universal.
AW: Which is one reason I
call global climate change, or global scorching, a crisis in the very name of
God. The balance of oxygen and carbon dioxide in our atmosphere is the result
of the interbreathing of animals and plants. What we breathe in is what the
trees breath out; what the trees breathe in is what we breathe out. If you
understand “YHWH” to mean the interbreathing of all life – ruach ha’kodesh, the Holy Breathing Spirit – then you’re seeing the
climate crisis in sacred terms.
My theology always seeks
to fuse religious wisdom with scientific knowledge. To me, the two are
partners…
If we understand YHWH not
as a Lord, a King, but as the reality of interbreathing that connects all life
– which is literally, scientifically true – then we don’t really need your
quotation marks. The truth of life is that none of us “owns” where we live or
what we eat. We are part of the weave of life. Even inside our own guts are all
these micro-organisms that keep us alive and vice versa.
These are scientific facts
and spiritual truths. They speak to
conscience; they have implications for us as human beings. We are called to
behave toward each other with respect, concern, love – and a willingness to pay
our taxes! – because truly, we cannot exist without each other. We are also
called to recognize that “property,” namely, the planet, is really shared not only among human
beings but also with the soil, the seed, the rain, the rivers, the myriad
animals and plants and microbes – with YHWH, the Breath that connects us all. That is the basic environmental
commitment – to recognize that and to respond to it by developing a sustainable
society.
I want secular Jews, even
Jews who plug up their ears when they hear the word “God,” to bring their rich
political experience and deep passion to the environmental movement, and to all
of the political struggles I’m involved with. But I will use God-talk, because
it brings me and others closer to reality, not further from it. The reality is
that for about three hundred years, larger and larger, deeper and deeper parts
of the Earth have been allowed no shabes [often
transliterated as Shabbos or Shabbat, referring to the Sabbath, the day of rest
every seventh day prescribed by the Ten Commandments]. Indeed, shabes itself has come to seem a waste
of time. We have taken great pride in the achievements of industrial
technology: cures for diseases, swift global communication, the production of
so much food as to make possible the reproduction of seven billion humans. But
– no shabes. No constant awareness of
the Interbreathing of all life. That awareness is what is needed to discipline
us to the imperatives of a sustainable economy and society. That, to me, is
Judaism’s great gift to our modern day.