In the middle of this week's Torah portion, there is a verse that appears to have been inserted almost randomly. It does not obviously connect to the text before or after. It may, though, teach us something about a universe in which the laws of cause and effect do not always hold:

The hidden things belong to Adonai our God, but the revealed are for us and our children forever to do all the words of this Torah (Deuteronomy 29:28).

We learn which of our behaviors lead to our happiness and which lead to our suffering. We try to follow the former and avoid the latter. We never do so perfectly, but we can usually detect where we went wrong when we fail. That is the world that has been revealed to us. It is the world of following the instruction—the Torah—that we have been given.

But there is also a world that has been concealed from us. We are human and limited, so we cannot know what the future holds for us. There are times when the world seems to run without rules and we feel that God is hidden from us. That hiddenness also is a part of the universe we have been given.

This is a teaching that goes further and deeper than just saying (as I often say to my children), "Life isn't fair." If that were really, strictly true, then nothing would make any sense and there would be no point in trying to do what is right. 

Instead, we recognize that there is some of each. The revealed world is for us. Within that world, we get to make choices about how we will behave and we are given some assurances about the outcomes we should expect, good and bad. Within the revealed world, we have some latitude. The Torah has given us a basic moral structure for the universe and it is up to us to implement it with social structures and rules of our own devising. 

The hidden world, though, is not ours. There is an aspect of reality over which we have no control. We cannot decide what the circumstances of our birth will be. We cannot control the millions of seemingly random variables that effect our lives—what unforeseeable events will test us, challenge us, or torment us. Part of life is learning to accept that we don't get to control everything. Part of how the world works is hidden from us. It belongs to God.

The greatest test of human character is how we reconcile these two ideas. What do we do with the power we have to affect the world? Do we use that power for good or ill? How do we deal with the things that are beyond our control? Do we humbly submit ourselves to a world in which we don't know everything and we can't determine every outcome? 

Also, do we allow one of those conditions to overwhelm the other? Does fatalism stifle us from action when we have the power to effect change? Does our arrogance make us struggle senselessly against things that are beyond our ken? How do we know the difference?

As we enter into the Days of Awe, seek clarity between the two. Let the shofar awaken you to the revealed world before you and double in your determination to make it better. Hear the silence between the blasts, too. It is a reminder that our power is limited, we can't do everything, and sometimes the best thing we can do is to accept what is real and what is true.


Other Posts on This Topic:
Yoga and Judaism: The Yoke's on You
Noah: The Redemption of God

I keep wondering: What do Jews mean when they say that they are "not religious"?  What other religious group in America would define "religious" the way that Jews do?

Obviously, part of the problem is that most American Jews have been trained to believe that it's bad to be "too religious." They have an image of a chasidic Jew wearing a black coat, tzitzit, a shtreimel fur hat, and payos sidelocks. They have an image of a Jew who observes Shabbat and Kashrut in ways that they reject. They know they don't want to be that, and that is what "religious" means to them. 

Even committed Reform Jews, who understand the principles of equality and autonomy that are the foundation of Reform Judaism, still don't believe that they can be religious because they attend a shul where men and women sit together and because they drive to the mall after services on Saturdays. They believe that they cannot be religious, despite the fact that their rabbi tells them they have the right to make their own choices.

Do they think that it is impossible to be a religious Reform Jew? If so, it is a terrible indictment of Reform Judaism if not even its own adherents believe that their Judaism is "real" Judaism.

This week's Torah portion comes to remind us just before Rosh Hashanah that being "religious" is not a matter of donning the Judaism of your grandparents or your grandparents' grandparents. Being a religious Jew is much more a matter of listening to what is already in your heart.

Surely, this commandment which I command you this day is not too wondrous for you, nor is too distant from you. It is not in the heavens, that you should say, “Who shall go up to the heavens and get it for us that we may understand it and do it?” It is not across the sea, that you should say, “Who shall cross the sea and get it for us that we may understand and do it?" Rather, it is very close to you. It is in your mouth and in your heart to do it.  (Deuteronomy 30:11-14)

Real Judaism is not some distant and alien land where no self-respecting modern Jew should ever go. Real Torah, as the Torah says, is found in the very ideals of your heart. It is found in the very words that come to your mouth when you talk about your deepest values and your most profound connection to your Creator. It is not somebody else's version of what you are "supposed to do." It is the truth that you already know; the truth of your Jewish identity that is most dear to you.

Your Judaism is as real and as powerful as any Judaism could be, as long as it is what is in your heart. Listen up, Reform Jews! Being religious is not a matter of being the kind of Jew somebody else wants you to be.  It is about being the kind of Jew you want to be.

So, the next time you hear the word "religious" and you instinctively think, "That's not me; that's somebody else," think instead about what you believe "religious" should mean, according to the dictates of your own heart and mouth. If you can be that, you can be religious.