Jonah wrote:I understand the fact of atheist Jews. But, I haven't heard one that goes to shul talk about what that does for him/her. I understand Richard Rubenstein, but I don't know if I would find him shul or if I should be surprised to see him there (Is he still alive?...I don't keep up.)
The reason I ask is that my understanding of Rubenstein's atheism is that it's based on Jewish concepts of justice. Because of injustice (holocaust et al), God cannot exist.
But, for the Jew...apparently we can dispose of God, but not justice. Or can we, really? Since Moses, the very notion of God was tied to justice. And even if we allowed that we manufacture our gods on account of this or that, in the Jewish case, the reason for a god is injustice/justice. Can we really have one without the other? Or is there really something else meaningful to do in shul?
I understand Rubenstein's reasoning--he is devastating to read--and I respect his conclusions. Believe it or not, though, he's not a strict atheist. (Like Kaplan, he allows for certain Kabbalistic views of the divine.)
And it's worth noting that even in
After Aushwitz, he didn't say 'chuck Judaism--forget it, it's over and done.' (Although, as I recall, he certainly wanted to radically reimagine Judaism.)
But you're larger question seems to be: is shul meaningful for the atheist Jew? Is there anything meaningful in shul without God?
I think you have to go to shul-attending atheist Jews for the answer, but I'll take a stab at it. (I don't identify as an atheist, although I'm not hostile to atheism.)
Short answer: yes. Part of our job description, as Jews, is to wrestle with God. ('Israel' means God-wrestler.) Judging the very concept of God, judging the likelihood of God's existence, weighing the evidence--surely that's a form of wrestling with God? How can God fault us for deciding that any objective evidence is lacking?
Then there's the power of our liturgy, tradition and rituals. Even if I decided that the notion of God is utter foolishness--and it may be, for all I know--I would still light the candles on Shabbat for the sheer beauty of the bracha (blessing). I would still come to shul to say Kaddish for my departed loved ones, taking comfort in the cadence of the old Aramaic words. I would still read our Scriptures and commentaries to understand how Jews have dealt with eternal questions of justice and righteousness throughout our history. . . and I would still argue with other Jews in Torah study class about our conclusions and interpretations.
I would still love singing the
Az Yashir Moshe in shul, imagining what it was like to be on the banks of the Reed Sea after escaping Pharaoh's army, even if I thought that story didn't contain a grain of literal history. (And for all I know it may not.) I would still keep kosher, admiring the mindfulness that brings to every trip to the food store. I would still make a big Seder every year, to drink wine with family and friends and discuss the meaning of freedom and liberation.
(In fact, at least a third of the guests at my last Seder were gentile atheists--and they loved it and found it fascinating and even meaningful, despite the long Haggadah and the discussions about God's role in the story.)
So yes, I can see plenty of meaning in shul and the whole of Jewish traditions, whether a person is a monist, panentheist, theist, agnostic or atheist--or any combination thereof.