Is God a useful idea?

A colleague of mine recommended a book, How God Changes Your Brain, by Andrew Newberg, MD and Mark Waldman. Among other findings, the authors talk about results which show that people who believe in a God tend to be more compassionate*. There are other benefits, too – lower incidence of dementia, for example.

* right now, some of you are preparing responses of this sort: “I know of person X who claims to believe in God, and they do A, B and C, all of which are horrific things.” Don’t bother – the claim isn’t that people who believe are automatically nicer, or that people who don’t believe aren’t. The claim is that belief in a God, like other activities, such as meditation, can strengthen the parts of the brain that allow us to feel compassion. But, it’s not guaranteed, and it’s not the only way.

So, here’s an interesting philosophical question. Imagine that you don’t believe in God (which is surely true for some people reading this). But, imagine that you become convinced that acting as if you believe in God can/will have significant, positive benefits for you. Or, imagine that convincing yourself that you believe (which is different from just acting that way) will give you those benefits. Would you do it?

For me, it’s a real quandary. I am, by nature, somewhat philosophical. I place a high value on Truth. I don’t want to believe that which isn’t true, and I get very frustrated by those who equate all belief with belief in irrational things. But, what if I were to decide that my insistence on rigorous truth is actually a detriment to my life? What if I’d be happier/nicer/healthier, if I could just get over myself, and pretend to believe that which I don’t believe? Am I cutting off my nose to spite my face, by sticking with Truth?

In the end, I don’t think so – in my case, it’s just too far to go. So much of my thinking, and my religious identity, is based around this concept of truth, that to go away from it would be a lie, and probably an unsustainable one. But, it still leaves the question an open one, and an interesting one, so I’ll put it to you, dear reader: if you don’t (or hypothetically didn’t) believe in God, but believe that it’s better to believe, would you / could you fake it?

By the way, here, according to the book (according to my colleague), is the list (I believe in order of effectiveness) of ways to exercise your brain:

1. Smile
2. Stay intellectually active
3. Consciously relax
4. Yawn (though hopefully not during this sermon!)
5. Meditate
6. Aerobic Exercise
7. Dialogue with others
8. Have faith.

Anyone follow God on Twitter? What's He up to?

Apparently, you can now use Twitter to put a prayer in the Western Wall. A colleague of mine wrote about what, exactly, is wrong with this - calling it "Fast Food Judaism." Quick and easy religion which might feel satisfying at the time, but ultimately is unhealthy for you. Pretty good analogy, if you ask me (and I do love a religious analogy).

I'd go a step further than he does, though. He does allow for the value, in a limited way, of putting prayers in the wall (for those who don't know, the Western Wall in Jerusalem is sacred, and many people write prayer on slips of paper, and put them in the cracks of the wall). Let me preface this by saying that, like him, I love the Wall - I've always found it incredibly powerful to be there, and I am always drawn to return to it, whenever I'm lucky enough to be in Jerusalem.

Put the whole idea of putting a note in the wall just runs counter to what I believe. No matter how people try to justify it (and some just accept this as literal fact), the implication is that God hears our prayers (reads our prayers?) better when they are put there. If I ask God for health, or happiness, or a new car, but I do it here in Tampa - well, that gives me a 20% chance of getting what I want. But, if I stick that prayer in the Kotel (the Hebrew word for "wall"), then it jumps up to 80%. Maybe 90%, if God's running a special that week.

There is a very fine line between religion and superstition. One of the signs that you're crossing that line is if you ever say "this prayer/ritual/rite will work better if it's done in this way/at this time/in this place." To use one of my own favorite (and well used) metaphors, God is not a Cosmic Vending Machine, requiring only that we learn which buttons to push, and in what order, to get what we want.

Of course, this can get overstated - holidays are special times, and the Wall is a special place. Finding sanctity in some times and places isn't inherently superstitious. But, believing that God will react differently, in a literal sense, in those times and places is. Are there ways to do the "note in the Kotel" thing that don't cross that line? I'm sure that there are. But, when people think that Tweeting "please give me a pony" is, in any way, better than an authentic, personal prayer, then I think we've crossed a line.

DWT

I'll admit up front that this post is not technically Jewish, but it's something that's been on my mind for a while. And, since Judaism places such an intensely high value on Pikuach Nefesh, the requirement to save a life, whenever possible, I can feel justified about posting it. At the risk of being melodramatic, this really could save your life.

A couple of days ago, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration released research which reconfirms what several other studies have shown in the past few years: talking on a cell phone while driving is dangerous. In fact, it seems to be the statistical equivalent of having a .08 Blood Alcohol Level - the legal limit here in Florida. You are 4 times more likely to be in an accident if you're talking on the phone while driving than if you're not.

Now, here's the part that really gets people: it makes essentially no difference if you use a hand-held phone or a hands-free phone. Talking on a earpiece or via a Bluetooth speaker does not, in any way, make you safer. It's not about the use of your hands; it's about the distraction*.

* there is a side issue here which I find fascinating. These results are not new, but when I've brought them up before, people always reject them. Tell a normal, smart person that talking hands-free is just as dangerous as hand-held, and they'll often tell you that you're wrong. Tell them that there is science to back that up, and they'll deny it, or claim it doesn't apply to them, or say that the science is wrong, without ever looking at it. Think about that the next time someone claims that people are essentially logical.

I rarely talk on the phone while driving, but I do it sometimes. Several times, I've claimed that I won't do it any more, but I always make exceptions - just a quick call home, on a road I know well. No big deal, right? Well, maybe I'll be better if I do this publicly: I hereby promise and declare (our religion forbids me to swear, so I won't do it) that I will no longer use a cell phone while driving. I won't do it a little. I won't do it for a moment. Nothing I have to say is worth quadrupling my chances of being in an accident. It can wait.

But, here's where things get really sticky. If I was sitting in a car, and the driver pulled out a beer, would anyone begrudge me the right to say, "Please stop that. It's incredibly unsafe, and it makes me wildly uncomfortable"? Would anyone call me insane if I insisted on getting out of the car, right then and there, no matter where we were? How about this - would you think I was nuts if I chastised you for drinking and driving, even if I wasn't in the car with you? Probably not. But, what about with a phone? Don't I now, given what we know, have the right to ask others to not use the phone while I'm in the car? And, if a friend or loved-one calls me from the car, isn't it only friendly and loving for me to say, "This really isn't safe. Please give me a call when you're not driving, ok?" I've thought about doing that many times, but I've never been brave enough. I feel like a nudnick - like an annoying zealot.

Look, I'm sorry to be a pest, but we have to face reality. If you talk on the phone while driving, you are putting yourself, and others, in danger. No matter why you think it's not true, it is. Put down the phone, and get home safely.

Judaism, Feminism and duality

One of my conversion students recently pointed me to an essay about a Jewish woman, studying to be a Rabbi, and how she deals with some of the issues which come up for her.

What I love about the essay is her willingness to discuss, and even embrace, tension and duality. She comes at it (largely) from a feminist point of view, but I'd argue that these same issues are present for any of us who take liberal religion seriously - those of us who are dedicated to being sincerely religious, but stridently non-fanatical. There's always a certain intellectual tension in that kind of life - how can I be faithful both to an ancient religion and to modern, liberal values, when those two worlds often conflict? How can I claim to be serving The One higher than myself if I'm the one picking and choosing what to do? But, how can I claim to be sincere and honest if I pretend that my religion is infallible and absolute when I know it's not?

Rather than try to find easy answers to these questions, the writer admits that they're important (I'd say fundamental) and troubling, and that they must be engaged. As always, people taking questions seriously are much more important to me than people who claim to have pat answers. Truth is messy - anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something*.

* That's a misquote - can anyone name the movie?

The honor of enduring

I love baseball, and I love baseball writing - I probably read more baseball blogs than any other type. My favorite blogger has become a writer by the name of Joe Posnanski - he writes really long, really well crafted, really well thought out posts. Today, he posted a piece about a certain kind of player, and person, who just refuses to give up, even when it's clear that it's time. Towards the end, his writing gets more personal:

I always say that the single most enduring memory of my childhood is that of my father going to the factory every single day, waking up so early the television stations were still static … then dressing in the dark, packing a salami sandwich in a brown paper bag, wandering out in the arctic chill of 5:30 a.m., driving through the darkness, over the potholes, to the factory, where the air was stale and the lights flickered and the work could break you. I always say that the single most enduring memory of my childhood was of my father coming home in that blue, rusted-out Chevy Nova, getting out of the car, his pants and hands black from oil and muck and whatever else, and how he would have this smile on his face, and I would beg him, and he would grab a Nerf football or grab his glove and wander out to the backyard with me and play catch.

That long memory is special for me because he is my father, of course. But that memory is also special for me because (I realize) it is the model against which I judge everyone and everything, the model against which I judge myself. Do you bring it every day? Do you endure through the monotony? Do you hold on to what’s important to you even when it isn’t easy? Are you a hero to someone — not because of talent or artistry or what is largely viewed as success, but instead because of who you are at your core?

I know that, if I take just a moment, I can find the perfect Jewish quote which says essentially the same thing, but with different words. But, truth is, that seems redundant. Nothing wrong with finding an occasional nice Shabbat thought in the world of baseball, rather than in Judaism. They are, after all, my two religions.

Shabbat Shalom

Biennial, Toronto

Just a heads-up to any Beth Am'ers (and anyone else who's interested). From November 4-8, the URJ is holding their Biennial Conference in Toronto (click here for more info). If you've never been to Biennial, it's basically hundreds of members of the Reform Movement getting together for a few days of learning, exploring, praying, singing and much more. Think of it as a giant retreat for all ages. It's hard to describe - it really has to be experienced.

I thought I'd bring it up now, just to plant the seed. If you're interested, feel free to talk to me (or check out that website) for more information - and be sure to mark it on your calendars, now!

Traditional Feminism?

Over the summer, I'm meeting bi-weekly with all of my conversion candidates for class/discussions. This week's topic is women in Judaism and Jewish Feminism (which sound alike, but are very different, albeit overlapping, topics). I've been sending them a few articles and such to read, to get the thinking/conversation going, and lo and behold* this came across my e-desk today:

There is plenty to criticize/disagree with here, but also some potentially interesting ideas. My students will get a chance to air their questions/thoughts/arguments on Thursday. Anyone in cyber-land care to chime in in the "comments" section?

* Zaddok Hakohen of Lublin said, "The first premise of faith is to believe that there is no such thing as happenstance...Every detail, small or great, they are all from the Holy One."