The following is a short excerpt from How to Get More Out of Being Jewish
Even if.... [From AOL March 1997]

I'm Not Even Sure I Believe in God

Quote: "Here I am not sure I believe in God, and I have to ask, what kind of
Jew am I? Feeling this uncertain about God, it's hard for me to take much of
Judaism very seriously."


Rob: To tell you the truth, I'm not even sure I believe in God.

Gil: Do you think that makes you unique?

Rob: Maybe . . . I guess I'm not sure. I might even be an atheist. I m
probably more of an agnostic--deep down. I'm not sure if people invented God
or vice versa. I do know that all of this doubt makes me feel like I'm not
much of a Jew.

Gil: Why?

Rob: Are you kidding? Here I am not sure I believe in God, and I have to
ask, what kind of Jew am I? Feeling this uncertain about God, it s hard for
me to take much of Judaism very seriously. If I go to the synagogue, I open
up the prayer book and I ask myself, who am I praying to? Who or what is this
God? I can't relate to this. And the rituals and the laws, even the few
things I do--like when I go to a Passover Seder -- I find I'm asking myself,
what am I doing here anyway? I feel like a complete hypocrite.

Gil: So for you, being unsure or ambivalent about God is a nonstarter. If
your faith in God is at best a question, everything about Judaism feels like
hypocrisy or a waste of time.

Rob: Let me put it this way, I'm not a religious or observant person. I'm
not into Jewish ritual, prayer, or the temple. I have a hard time going
forward with religion or observance feeling as I do about God. I sure don't
feel like much of a Jew.

Gil: What would you say if I told you that you're very much a Jew.

Rob: I'd say, What do you mean? In fact, I think I'll say that. What do
you mean?

Gil: Your questions about faith are not unique--they are very Jewish. I say
that based on my own personal experience of having some of the same
questions. When I began to look for answers, I was pleasantly shocked to find
that I was not alone. For thousands of years, Jews have struggled with many
of the same questions.

Rob: Great, so they were lousy Jews, too.

Gil: That was my first reaction, too. I used to think that having doubts
about God made me a bad Jew. But I've learned that that's a misconception
about Judaism. Judaism cares a lot more about a person's behavior than about
their belief. But after exploring this business of faith, I now understand
why most Jews don't know this.

Rob: What do you mean?

Gil: I came up with a phenomenon that explains this. I call it the
"Christianization of Judaism."

Rob: What in the world is that supposed to mean?

Gil: In Christianity, if you don't believe in Christ, you're not a
Christian. End of discussion. But in Judaism, not having faith in God does
not disqualify you from being a Jew. On top of that, questioning about God
is very much a part of our tradition. Our name is very different from
"Christian", which is literally a believer in Christ -- or for that matter,
"Muslim", which comes from the Arabic word for "submission" -- to God's will.

Rob: So we're called Jews, so what?

Gil: We're also called the people Israel. The word Israel in Hebrew means
wrestler or struggler with God. So if you struggle with questions about God,
you're living up to your namesake: You're a member of the people Israel.
You're doing something that is very Jewish. But living in societies dominated
by gentiles, many of us Jews have picked up the idea that if we have
questions about faith, that makes us bad Jews. It just isn't so.

Rob: There is something comforting in that.

Gil: It was to me. I found something else that made me feel even more
comfortable that I think you, too, will appreciate. I had a teacher once who
told me to stop calling myself and others good or bad Jews. He had a much
better idea.

Rob: I'm listening.

Gil: He said to use the term serious Jew. Serious Jews are people who
actively struggle with their Judaism. I think being actively serious is good.

Rob: I like that. I have often thought of myself as a second-class Jew. I
mean, I don't really practice any Jewish ritual or often go to temple.
Actually, inside I probably think of myself as a bad Jew -- though somehow
that doesn't seem right.

Gil: I think judging a person's Jewishness by how many times they pray or
perform ritual is dangerous. Better to me is to think in terms of a
seriousness continuum. On one end is active; on the other end is passive. To
me, actively being serious or struggling with my Judaism is a place I feel
good about.

Rob: I like that much better than calling myself a good or bad Jew, and I'm
feeling actively serious now. But I can't believe many rabbis would buy your
idea about faith. Are you telling me that rabbis are not sure they believe in
God?

Gil: I've never polled rabbis, but I have spoken to rabbis who have told me
that they have had doubts about God at different points in their adult lives.
I'd like to talk more about that, but first can I ask you: When you say
you're not sure you believe in God, what exactly are you calling God?

Rob: It's easier for me to tell you what I don't believe in. I don't
believe in a God who is an old grandfather figure with a long white beard who
is pulling puppet strings and intervening in my life or the world. All I need
to do is look at the Holocaust or all of the other evil in the world to
destroy that God idea. The Holocaust was so horrible, how could you not
question if there is a God -- and if there is, what kind of God allows such
evil to happen?

Gil: I don't know.

Rob: That's it? Don't you have any better answers?

Gil: Hey, I'm just a person. I don't have any voodoo or on-line connection
to God. I wish I did. In the meantime, I have to rely on a low-tech solution
-- I have to guess. Also, I read other people's answers.

Rob: So what do they say?

Gil: To me some of the most thought-provoking answers have come from
Holocaust survivors. After all, these are the people who actually experienced
the atrocities of the Nazis. Some survivors never were able to accept the
notion of God again. Yet others did. Survivors have different answers. One
daughter of Holocaust survivors told me that her father regained his faith in
God because the Holocaust taught him that he could not believe in people.