Where is God? Ayeh M'kom K'vodo?

It is a question we often ask – especially in difficult or challenging times: Where is God?

It is a question we ask each and every Shabbat: Ayeh m’kom k’vodo? Where is the place of God’s glory?

The answer is simple.

Hashem is here, Hashem is there, Hashem is truly everywhere.

In all seriousness, what does it mean to seek the place where God’s glory can be found? Furthermore, think of the paradox of asking God to identify the place to find His glory. It is bad enough WE don’t know, but we make matters worse by drawing attention to our ignorance.

The question of ayeh m’kom k’vodo is typical of the complex relationship we have with God. We turn to God in times of need, but don’t recognize God when we get what we want. With regard to faith, it is something to have, but it is difficult to articulate. A number of years ago, I attended a meeting for 40 Orthodox rabbis in Orlando, Florida. One session was devoted to the rabbis in the room sitting in a circle, each weighing in with the greatest need facing their community. The issues ranged from trying to get more volunteers for committees, to increasing membership, to adding more meaning to Judaism. The last rabbi said, “I find it interesting that no one felt that God is an issue that warrants attention in the Modern Orthodox community.” I have been thinking about this idea ever since.

It is not just in our Modern Orthodox community where God has a tough time. The Pew Forum's U.S. Religious Landscape Survey conducted in 2014 found that 63% of the US population is absolutely certain in their belief in God. Another 20% are fairly certain with 5% saying they just believe without the certainty. That’s 88% overall. For Protestants, the numbers are 66, 25, and 4 for 95% in total. Evangelicals were 88, 10, and 1 for 99%, and Catholics were 64, 27, and 5 for 96% in total.

How about the Jews? The percentage of those with absolute faith is 37%, while another 27% are fairly certain with 14% just believing. That’s just 78% in total, significantly less faithful than the average American and adherents of other religions.

Why is this so? What happened to the nation described as ma’aminim bnei ma’aminim, believers who are the children of believers? The issue was addressed by Rabbi Joseph Lookstein some 50 years ago in a sermon entitled “Looking for God in the Right Places.” It was “not intended to be a theological essay. Our concern is with a practical matter of faith.” The sermon is directed to the period in which it was delivered, but the sentiment is relevant today. Rabbi Lookstein stated:

The God of the philosophers will not do. He is too impersonal. Even the Ein-Sof, the ineffable deity of the mystics, cannot satisfy. He is too vague. Nor, dear young people, will Zen Buddhism or similar oriental cults resolve the anguish, the fright, and the despair of modern man…It is futile to look for God in the wrong places.”

 

As time goes by, there seem to be more and more wrong places. Rabbi Norman Lamm, in his Faith and Doubt, describes what he calls “excused doubt.” Today, more than ever, people do not believe as in the past, and Jewish law has responded by not holding people as accountable for lapses in faith as in earlier times.

 

In a similar vein, Dennis Prager notes that, nowadays, people are just not theologically, intellectually, and emotionally prepared to deal with all the unjust suffering in the world. He posits that, nowadays, maybe we’ve had it too good for too long.

 

Have the past six months of the Covid pandemic turned people more towards faith? The Pew Research Center studied this as well. The results were mixed. Some people have become more religious and others less so. Unsurprisingly, as with faith, Jews are less religiously awakened than other groups during these times.

Throughout the High Holiday liturgy, we loudly declare our belief in God, King of the Universe. We declare, “V’ata hu melech keil chai v’kayam – You, God, are the everlasting King!” We proclaim “Aneinu Answer us, Lord!” and call out to God to show us mercy and compassion. During this period, we don’t have a problem communicating our relationship with the divine. But what about the day after? Where is God in our lives then? Is God not at the very foundation of our lives? As committed Jews, we may not all behave exactly the same, but our Judaism all originates from God. How can we minimize or ignore our Divine connection? It is not alright for Judaism to be devoid of the Divine. We must find a way to make relevant our relationship with God. It is essential to our living as engaged Modern Orthodox Jews.

During the High Holidays, it is appropriate to pay attention when we ask the question: Ayeh m’kom k’vodo - Where is God’s presence found? We should begin the New Year by exploring what God means to each of us. Ayeh m’kom k’vodo?  Where is the place of God’s glory? Where in complex times do our lives reflect an awareness of the Divine?

God is actually right in front of us in three ways.

 

1)  We find God within the Jewish people. We are evidence of God’s existence.

Charles Murray is the sociologist who wrote the oft-quoted and respected book, “The Bell Curve.” Four years ago, in an article in Commentary Magazine entitled, “The Jewish Genius,” Mr. Murray concludes that there is only one way to possibly explain the exceptionalism of the Jews: “They are God’s chosen people.”

Murray’s conclusion is shared by other writers and thinkers throughout history. Mark Twain and John Adams are but two of those who saw Divine Providence in our survival as a nation. Charles Murray is not Jewish! The others aren’t Jewish. Unfortunately, Jews don’t talk this way! We don’t think that way anymore. It is considered too “parochial” and “particularistic.”

Our problem is that we know we are Jewish; we just aren’t sure what being Jewish means to our faith in God. The late Shlomo Carlebach, reflecting on his years of visiting students on college campuses around the world, recounted:

 

I ask students what they are. If someone says, “I’m a Catholic,” I know that he’s a Catholic. If they say, “I’m a Protestant,” I know that she’s a Protestant. If they say, “I’m just a human being,” I know that’s a Jew.

 

We need to acknowledge what others recognize in us: God. Our very identification as Jews attests to God’s presence. Our faith is expressed by our very existence. WE are m’kom k’vodo, proof of God’s presence.

 

2)  Ayeh m’kom k’vodo is not a question. It is a statement. We find God in our struggle with the questions of faith.

 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notes that faith in God is strengthened through questioning and rigorous debate. There are no shortcuts, and it is good to be challenged. He describes leaving university for study in a rabbinical seminary in Israel. The highest form of praise there was, “du fregst a gutte kasha – you’re asking a good question.” The best thing for our faith is to ask and confront.

 

Rabbi Sacks quotes American playwright Wilson Mizner: “I respect faith. But doubt is what gets you an education.” He then comments:

 

To ask is to believe that somewhere there is an answer…Far from faith excluding questions, questions testify to faith – that the world is not random, life is not chance.

 

Ayeh, the very act of asking and struggling to find God, is m’kom k’vodo, where God is found.

 

God is in us, and God is to be found within our struggle with our doubts to understand.

 

3)  God is found in connecting with other people.

 

The Talmud (Shabbat 127a) states:

אמר רב יהודה אמר רב גדולה הכנסת אורחין מהקבלת פני שכינה

Welcoming guests is more important that communing with the Divine. We learn this from Avraham, who interrupted talking to God to greet the angels who came to visit him.

Responding to the needs of others supersedes one’s Divine service.

The transformative event in Martin Buber’s life was a knock at the door. He had been upstairs in his room fully engaged in a deeply religious moment, when there was a knock at his front door downstairs. He was taken out of his spiritual reverie and went down to see who was at the door. It was a young man who had been a student and a friend, and who had come specifically to speak with him.

 

Buber was polite with the young man, even friendly, but he was also hoping to soon get back to his meditations. The two spoke for a short time and then the young man left. Buber never saw him again because he died shortly thereafter in World War I. Later, Buber learned from a mutual friend that the young man had come to him that day in need of basic affirmation, had come looking for guidance. He had not recognized the young man's need at the time because he had been concerned to get back upstairs to his prayers and meditation. He had been cordial, but he had not been fully present. That's when Buber realized how potentially artificial the mystical high can be.

 

This story highlights the difference between a God experience and being in a relationship with God. Having a God experience is, at its core, all about you. It is selfish. Being in a relationship with God, like being in a relationship with a person, comes with responsibilities. What is a responsibility? It comes from a combination of the words able and respond. When we think about God, if it doesn't open us up to hearing the call to duty, if it doesn't increase one's ability to respond, it is having an experience, but it is not encountering God in a real relationship.

 

This is how Judaism expects us to make God a real part of our lives. A relationship with God is as much, if not more, about increasing love and sensitivity towards others than it is about the spiritual experience – as lovely as it is. Rabbi Lookstein concludes his sermon with this thought:

 

Is it not strange that our search for God ends with man? God is king, but his throne is in our hearts…A paraphrase of [R.] Yehuda Halevi seems to sum up our thought:

I have sought Thy nearness;

With all my heart I call Thee,

But going out to meet Thee

I found You dwelling in me

 

As we affirm God as ruler of the world during the High Holidays, we must also embrace that God must be prevalent and pertinent in our religious lives. The core relationship with God need not be on a high mountaintop, poring over the great truths of the universe. We have a very accessible relationship with God.

 

We can find God when we fully appreciate who we are as the Jewish people.

 

We find God as we struggle with the questions of faith.

 

And we find God when we recognize the supreme value in responding to others.

           

If we are successful, we will have invited God to play a role in our religious identities. We will have shown that God is a very real and relevant force in our lives all the time in the same way we proclaim throughout our liturgy. Maybe we’ll even increase the Jewish faith numbers in the next Pew poll. And when we say the Kedusha, we will have a new, deeper understanding of the question of ayeh m’kim k’vodo: Hinei m’kom k’vodo! Right here in front of us, as part of our lives in the real world, rests the glory of the Living God.