I found an interesting observation about me in
Alexander Mann's Journal (H). In a discussion about
Yoshev al Hageder's blog (H) between Yoshev and a journalist named Ido Hartogsohn, Ido pointed out that, unlike my blog, Yoshev's tends to be one sided against Orthodoxy and fails to recognize any good aspects in Charedi society. Yoshev defended his approach with a number of arguments, but one point surprised me: "Apparently, Hasidic Rebel is at the beginning of his journey."
I'm sure that some, especially the fervently Orthodox, would take objection to Ido's characterization of my blog as objective. But what struck me about Yoshev's remark, was that it matched a pattern I've seen in many who were formerly Orthodox and some who still practice it but don't believe in it. Since they've been exposed to new and open-minded ways of thinking, many of them tend to assume that all who think differently have not properly examined the issues and must be at the beginning of their journey toward enlightenment. This, I thought, might be worth commenting on.
There was a time in my life, a number of years back, when I came to the conclusion that those who profess religious belief suffer from a mild form of mental illness. After thinking long and hard about much of what I had been taught, I could not believe that rational, perfectly sane people could accept some of the seemingly absurd teachings found in many or all religions. Having had no training in philosophical studies, I was only vaguely aware that others had already filled libraries of books on the subject. But even without knowing any of the classic or modern philosophical arguments against religion, I had my own questions that were enough to fill a book.
Here and there I would come across some material put out by Orthodox outreach organizations that targeted secular people and tried to convince them to embrace observant Judaism. Much of their material relied on people's predisposition toward belief in G-d and their quest for a meaningful life by whatever path was offered. Others took a more supposedly rational approach, attempting at least to use modern methods and scientific findings along with philosophical discussions to prove the truth of G-d's existence and the Torah as his revealed word. But I never found any of it very convincing. It all seemed forced, and I believed they were being intelectually dishonest in many of their arguments. With time, I found myself practicing Judaism without believing a shred of it.
I was disturbed most by the claim that G-d would obligate humans to serve him in a prescribed manner, without making it clear to all, in a form that would be unquestionable, what those practices are. It is hard enough, I believed, for humans to follow these laws once they knew them. To additionally require that the faculties of reason and logic be discarded in favor of blind acceptance of a doctrine handed down generations, goes against nature. For humans to be required to follow a certain path, it would need to be instinctively understandable like the sins of murder and theft and the virtues of kindness and compassion, or there would have to be some sort of continual revelation through the generations.
I was further disturbed by the inplausibility of G-d desiring rituals that happened to be in vogue in ancient cultures. It seemed too primitively human to require animal sacrifice, grand temples with uniformed priests, separation of menstruating women, and most of all, the requirement to kill each and every man, woman, and child of their rival nations.
Reason then became my religion. Whatever couldn't be proven logically, was invalid. I believed that with reason we could precisely determine right and wrong. Religious faith was outdated and irrelevant in this day and age. Religious differences, distinct cultural identities, and nationalisms were at best primitive ideas, and at worst sources of evil that should be removed.
But it wasn't long before I realized that belief in secularism wasn't exactly as rational as I had thought. People committed to secular ideals, it turned out, unknowingly based much of their value system on premises that had not been proven. The age of reason brought a whole slew of ideas and philosophies that discouraged religious belief. But many of those philosophies were only ideas worked out by men whose followers accepted their teachings with as much faith as one accepts religion. Kant, Nietzchie, Marx, Spinoza, and others thought up brilliant new ways of understanding reality, metaphysics, and morality. But much of it seemed to me as speculative as the philosophies that supported religion. Their ideas were not such that could be proven in labratories. Darwinism, which was heralded as capable of striking a final and decisive blow to religion, has by now been dissected and examined more critically, and many aspects of his theories are the subject of sharp debate. But even when it was still accepted in scientific and academic circles, it was never more than a theory. It never had the force to disprove religion, and at least the way I saw it, it was only more rational than religious belief for those who were biased against religion to begin with.
So ultimately, I realized, I would have to choose a value system based on my intuition. I couldn't prove one to be true. Even modern humanistic values could not be proven to be "right". As far as I could tell, they were only beneficial because society recognized them as such. In other times, society recognized different ideas as worthy. With the spread of Communism many had been convinced that a hierarchical society divided into classes was as evil as slavery. That concept has now been rejected for the most part by most of the world. It is conceivable that in a future time, the mainstream might very well accept that eating the flesh of animals is evil, but it is still accepted now as being well within the bounds of morality. Many who reject established religion, still believe in a supreme being or power that drives the forces of nature. But these people are also accepting an unproven notion, that might very well be strongly influenced by the idea of G-d.
My intuition led me to believe in the existence of G-d, one supreme creator of the universe who cares about each human being and listens to our prayers. I established my personal philosophy that humans have an ability and an imperative to lead spiritual lives through prayer and contemplation of G-d and his creation, and by adhering to the universally recognized good deeds. I believed that distinctions between good and evil and between right and wrong were within each human's conscience if they are truly sought out. And I believed that no ideology's truth can be so wholly absolute as to require its adherents to compel everyone else to join.
Having accepted the above, I found that a number of religions provided a good enough framework for those conclusions, at least in their more modern interpretations. I felt that, at least in their essence, all three major religions had a great deal of spiritual truth, and I accepted the possibility that G-d desires the service of all humans in different forms, and different perspectives of truth were made available to different groups. For me, though, my natural choice remained Judaism, the religion I was born and raised with. Although I still had many disturbing questions about Judaism, no system was able to provide me with a complete, unquestionable ideology.
To return to my fellow blogger Yoshev's comment mentioned above, I am still indeed at the beginning of my journey. This journey will last a lifetime. But I don't think that at any point will I come to see Judaism through the prism of his lens. That stage is one I've already long passed.