11/20/2021 - Where is God in Times of Tragedy?

I skipped an entry last week because I wanted to wait until after class to write about this topic.

During the first 12JQ class, Rabbi Miller asked us to choose which topic in the syllabus that we were most interested in learning about. I had chosen the topic of if people can really change. However, it was not until our recent class that I realized I was more interested in learning about where God is in times of tragedy.

I'm still reading through the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Harold Kushner and with each page, I read a different perspective, a different possibility as to why bad things happen to us. But I liked Rabbi Miller's rhetoric the best-We won't get a reason as to why, so we must ask ourselves what now.

But human nature is driven by curiosity. So when we ask a question that yields no answer, we spend centuries digging for a reason because humans tend to be discontent with the notion of, "it is what it is."

I believe the topic originates not by the question of why, but by the question of who. We want someone to blame, someone to point the finger at, someone to be angry with. What better person to blame than someone we cannot see. God. It is then that the question of why is opened. Why would God allow misfortunes to happen to us?

The most common explanation that we have accepted is that misfortunes happen as punishment for our sins and distance from God. We discussed in class that that explanation creates guilt and a black and white transaction of, "If I follow each commandment perfectly then nothing bad will ever happen to me." We discussed in length about Deuteronomic Theology and how that exact argument is presented. But I learned two things on that specific topic 1) how to pronounce Deuteronomy 2) Deuteronomy is only one side of the argument.

We then discussed the story of Job in contrast to Deuteronomy.

Job 1:1 There was a man in the land of Uz named Job. That man was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil.

An uprighteous and God-fearing man with a large family, vast property, many livestock, and great wealth loses everything. His friends try to tell him that it is his fault and that he must have done something to deserve it as God only punishes those subject to His divine justice. So what transaction did the blameless and uprighteous Job not make to God to be deserving of this punishment? There was never a transaction. Job lived his life faithfully and justly yet experienced devastating tragedies, but not from the hands of God. Job's friends, who suck, tried to convince him he must have done something to deserve it, but Job didn't do anything deserving of those events. Those events just happened. 

The story of Job is beautiful as it counters the austere theology presented in Deuteronomy. If bad things can happen to Job, bad things can happen to anyone. God is not an if-A-then-B equation, human nature contains too many variables for that equation to stand. But would life be better if the equation was if-A-then-B? Life would certainly be easier, but I don't think life would be human if that were the case. That's a pretty divine equation.

The balance that Deuteronomy and the Story of Job create gives us a partial answer to this complex question. We should strive to live a life following the commandments and a life influenced by our love and faith in God, but we need to be cognizant that it will not exempt us from tragedies. Not even just large-scale tragedies, but annoyances as well. There have been many times I've had a bad day at work and tried to think of what I did to deserve it. Was I rude to someone on the elevator that morning? Should I have not beeped at someone in traffic? Would changing those events have prevented that employee from yelling at me that morning? Probably not, but I would still have searched for reasons why.

I remember reading Ralph Waldo Emerson a few years ago and how he emphasized that connecting with nature connects us to ourselves, others, and God. He describes nature as a mirror of God by always being beautiful, useful, and mysterious. His outlook was simple, connect with nature and you will connect to God; if-A-then-B. His prodigy, Henry Thoreau, pursues this perspective and remarks nature to be beautiful and serene:

"I love nature, I love the landscape, because it is so sincere. It never cheats me. It never jests. It is cheerfully, musically earnest." Journal 16 November 1850

But then we have Arthur Rimbaud who countered the romantics and transcendentalists idea of harmony and peace within nature, and so within man. In fact, Rimbaud goes as far to say that both man and nature can be chaotic, unforgiving, and unpredictable.

"The wolf howled under the leaves
And spit out the prettiest feathers
Of his meal of fowl
Like him, I consume myself."

One finds nature and God to be beautiful and reverent and the other denounces it saying that nature (God) and man are unpredictable, unforgiving, and chaotic. 

I mention this because for so long I felt I had to choose a side; Thoreau or Rimbaud. Do I believe nature to be a sanctuary or do I believe nature is unforgiving? Am I choosing Deuteronomy or Job? But when Rabbi Miller suggested that Deuteronomy and the story of Job exist to contrast the other, it made me realize that neither Thoreau and Rimbaud or Deuteronomy and Job are entirely true. One exists for the other and creates that balance. As mentioned above, it creates a mindset of striving to live a life following the commandments and influenced by our love and faith in God, but we need to be cognizant that it will not exempt us from tragedies. Continue to enjoy the beauty and bountifulness of nature, but remain aware that it is unpredictable.

While reading Kushner's book, I enjoyed the section, "Sometimes There Is No Reason." At first it stumped me because isn't God the hand behind each action? But Kushner recites the opening of the Torah:

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. The earth was formless and chaotic, with darkness covering everything."

He further describes that creation is not necessarily creating something from nothing, but rather it is bringing order to chaos. Without God, earth was chaos, so He brought order to it. Without God, earth was dark, so He created light. 

I do not believe God to be cruel. I (now) do not believe that there is necessarily a hidden message or reason behind every travesty we experience. I believe the light He created is still working it's way through the chaos. But people are not content with things they cannot explain or rationalize. So instead, many people become angry with God and denounce Him because they need someone to blame. But I wonder, if we received a reason and explanation for each negative event we experienced, would that make the tragedy any less difficult? I don't think people want a reason or explanation for each tragedy, I think they want someone to blame.

But something I did not see until recently was that even in times of the worst situations, God never strays from us, but we often stray from Him. I don't think it's fair to blame God for bad things. If God drowned the Egyptians with regret and pain, then I simply cannot fathom how God could single-handedly cause all tragedies without being consumed by sorrow. Maybe I would understand if all bad things were acts of retribution, but they're not. I would think that the kindest gift He provides is ubiquity. So, there's another partial answer to Where is God in Times of Tragedy, right next to us. But where are we?

I think in an earlier passage I wrote that I had turned my back on God after my dad gave me the boot. I spent endless days trying to figure out what I had done to cause such a devastating event. I became so frustrated when I couldn't come to a conclusion that I decided that God was just punishing me for no reason. I was so angry with Him that I completely renounced His name. I blamed Him for everything and thought a life without Him was a better life.

 I struggled for a long time working 50 hour work weeks to pay my way through school, trying to study after a 12 hour shift, trying to stay positive so I wouldn't have to tell people my situation, counting how many packs of ramen I could buy with the $3 left in my account, and so forth. I had too much pride to ask for help. Yet even in the deepest moments of despair, I pulled through. I swear, sometimes it seemed like a miracle. Passing an exam I thought I'd fail, being able to somehow afford another semester, having a boss that didn't care how many hours I worked, hitting a pothole in the road so hard that it made the check engine light go away (partially joking).

There is no doubt that those years were a rough time in my life. One truth that led to huge argument that led to a few years of struggle. But I never realized in the moment that God had not left me even though I abandoned Him. I was blessed with many things during those years. Loving friends, a diploma, a promising career, a cute cat, etc. It took me so, SO long to realize that God did not cause my dad to do what he did; my dad caused it. And I hope, deep down, that God has stayed with my dad too, with whatever he may be doing now.

I find it liberating to know that not everything happens for a reason. An explanation won't undue or justify the bad things that happen to us. If nothing bad happened to anyone, I think we'd probably be in the Messianic Age. But for now, we live a human life and as the Torah says, earth was formless and chaotic, with darkness covering everything. For light to exist, there must be dark.

God is not cruel. Maybe the sentiment that God should be feared better translates to God should be revered. For example, people often look at outer space and are profoundly in awe with a tinge of fear. An illustration of a black hole can look abstractly beautiful as we fathom how things of that nature can exist, but we can also feel unsettled at it's irrefutable power. I believe that's how we see God. But sometimes we only focus on the irrefutable power instead of also marveling His presence. I think the description of God calling Moses to the burning bush is perfect. 

I like what Rabbi Miller concluded class with; we will never know why a tragedy happens but we can ask ourselves-what now? That's where everything is in our hands as we figure out how to cope, recuperate, and move forward.

During each class I worry (jokingly) that Rabbi Miller will call on me to read aloud. I won't know why he called on me to read aloud, but I know I don't want to read aloud, so what do I do? Just move forward and read aloud.