Running With the Weight of Gold — Letters to a young man

16: Exodus — Seeing is Believing

BS”D

Jerusalem — 18 January 2019

Dear D –

“Seeing is believing.”

This week’s Torah reading (Exodus 13:17–17:16) contains one of the Bible’s most cinematic scenes: the splitting of the sea and the escape of the Israelites, followed by the drowning of Pharaoh and his armies. Amidst the majestic imagery and the grandeur of the narrative lie two troubling verses (14:30–31): “On that day the Lord saved Israel from the hand of Egypt and Israel saw Egypt dead upon the shore; and Israel saw the great hand which the Lord used on Egypt, and the people feared the Lord, and they believed in the Lord and in Moses, the Lord’s servant.”

Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira, the Piaseczno Rebbe, says people who trot out proofs for the existence of God are really desperately trying to overcome their own lack of faith. By definition, seeing is not believing. Seeing is, in fact, the very opposite of believing. When we see something, we do not believe it. We experience it. And all our experience is subjective. We lose our way because we believe our own experience — our seeing — to be objectively true.

You may study mathematics, or chemistry, or engineering. Whatever your background, your scientific knowledge makes you aware of the complexity of processes driving even the simplest of phenomena. You may be a Moslem or a Hindu or a Jew; your engagement in religious observance and doctrine teaches you how to maintain the structure of the family, of society and of a culture, and that there is a moral Right and Wrong to every situation. Religion teaches us that we must put the interests of society before our own. Science teaches us how to manage that process. Or: science tells us how the world operates; religion tells us how to live in the world.

It is natural to operate on the basis of our subjective perception of the world; our brains are hard-wired for meaning, for narrative (“Tell me about your weekend.” “You’ll never guess what happened on my way to the office!”) Anything that simplifies the narrative of our lives is a comfort, and most of us are not good at the cognitive dissonance that arises each time we try to see the world objectively. The manufactured “conflict between science and religion” is nothing more than tribalist obfuscation, driven by people with very big mouths and extremely low tolerance levels. It is, by definition, uncivilized to adhere to one and reject the other. It is also wrong — both morally and intellectually — because it sets up a monolithic point of view: anyone who doesn’t see the world the way I do is wrong.

Discussing revelation and prophecy, Maimonides traces Abraham’s lifelong spiritual quest, arising through a rudimentary form of the scientific method: modification of hypothesis based on observation. In Maimonides’ world prophetic insight is given to those who have exhausted the capacity of the intellect to comprehend God’s message, as embedded in the world of nature.

The quest for God isn’t supposed to cut us off from society. Maimonides cautions against extreme spiritual practices. When we see a truly pious person fasting, or living on a mountaintop, or wearing sackcloth, we are tempted to say, I will fast. I will withdraw from society. I will wear sackcloth. Says Maimonides, the real challenge — and the proper way to live — is to follow the way of nature, a balanced existence, specifically including a balanced intellectual and spiritual practice. More remarkable than the hermit — and far more difficult to sustain — is the spiritual seeker who goes through daily life in outwardly unremarkable fashion, yet whose inner focus is alive with an awareness of the presence of God. Just because someone fasts and sits on a mountaintop doesn’t mean they’re a saint. And just because someone goes to an office every day and does people’s tax returns, doesn’t mean they aren’t.

In the Torah, the sense of sight is problematic. In Hebrew there is a unique verb for “create” used in “God created the heavens and the earth…” This verb, built on the root meaning “to see,” is used only for acts of creation performed by God. Then God “sees… that it is good.” Creation begins with sight: Genesis 1:4 is traditionally translated, “God saw the light, that it was good.” But it can also be translated “God saw the light, because it was good.” Does God only “see” things which are good? Could this be why God does not see Adam after the sin? (Gen 3:9) God calls out to Adam, “Where are you?” God asks Cain, “Where is Abel, your brother?” Faced with evil, God’s vision becomes clouded.

Eve appropriates seeing: (Gen 3:6) “And the woman saw that it was good, the tree, for eating…” precisely God’s language of creation. This first use of seeing by humans completely upends God’s plan of Creation. Eve sees, she analyzes, and she takes. The first instance of Science without Religion — and the world is forever changed.

The ink is not dry on the Creation story when the very act of seeing becomes contaminated. (Gen 6:5) “And God saw that the wickedness of humans was great…” God sees “that it was” the opposite of good. The Creation formula is upended. “And God saw that it was… very bad!” How is seeing to be restored to “good”? How can we redeem the world?

Throughout the Exodus we see proof of God’s existence. The signs, the plagues, the miracles — and now the splitting of the sea. Yet it is problematic. Pharaoh refuses the evidence of his own eyes through most of the signs and plagues, even before God actively intervenes to harden his heart.

“Seeing is believing”? If you need to see it, by definition you will never believe it. And as numerous psychology experiments demonstrate, if you don’t believe something, you will not see it! Like infants who have not developed object permanence, the Israelites must see constant manifestations of God, otherwise they believe God has abandoned them. But also, Hagar is standing right beside a well (Gen. 21:19), yet she tells the angel that her son will die of thirst. It requires divine intervention for her to see the water that was there all along. Abraham, on the other hand, is uniquely clear-sighted. When bidden to sacrifice his son, he lifts up his eyes and sees. He sees the mountain, he sees the ram. Abraham also sees clearly what God expects him to do.

And after we have seen all the miracles, then what? Spiritual practice is not an end in itself. It purpose is to enable us to return to the world of nature with new tools, with a new awareness. To heighten our connection to God in the everyday, strengthening us to work to bring holiness and justice into the world. The downside of spiritual practice is that we cling to experiences. We wish desperately to repeat them. We withdraw from the natural world, trying to repeat the circumstances and actions that led to our moment of awakening. Instead of identifying places within ourselves that require fixing, we embrace practices in order to recapture a feeling. In this way our meditation, our chanting and prayer — indeed, our whole service of God risks becoming just another way of satisfying our appetites. Like Eve, our service of God is nothing more than a sweet piece of fruit for us to enjoy. Like Hagar at the well, we become so wrapped up in our own experience that we fail to see the world before our eyes. Whether it is family, or community, or nation — or especially our own self — we cannot engage with what we do not perceive. Our very quest for spirituality risks robbing us of our humanity.

You want to see God? If we need to see God, then even seeing God will not be sufficient. The craving for spiritual experience works like a drug. And we build up a tolerance. First, I want to recapture the feeling I had in prayer this morning. Then I want to meditate. Then I need to get away in order to meditate and “connect,” to abandon my job, my family, my culture… If God actually came to stand before us, fully visible, we would say, “OK. What else can you do to keep me interested?”

God took a great risk in creating us, putting us here with freedom of choice and an endless capacity to do both good and evil. What was God thinking? If God is willing to take such a great risk for the sake of this relationship, imagine how important each human being is. Not just ourselves, but each person made in God’s image. If we follow our own superficial tastes and appetites, we will be traveling not God’s path, but ours. Not learning to do God’s work, but abandoning God for our own enjoyment.

As much as we desire to connect with God, God wants to connect with us. Like any relationship, this only works when both parties come to it independently, wholeheartedly, fearlessly accepting the consequences. God has a unique task set aside for each of us. We can follow the path of our appetites, our urges and our passions. Or we can strive to know ourselves deeply, then harness our passions, urges and appetites to fulfill our mission on this earth. By our acts they shall know us.

Yours for a better world –

Moshe