Angry at God, with perfect faith
Yakir Hexter (the author's nephew) and David Schwartz, study partners at Yeshivat Har Etzion, both killed on January 8, 2024, in Gaza, fighting Hamas |
Seeing that there are so many extended family members who have also joined the circle of bereavement during this war, and understanding that we are largely invisible in this whole picture, the Jerusalem municipality decided to open up workshops and group sessions for all of us bereaved aunts and uncles. As I was sitting in a group session, our conversation turned to faith. We were a very mixed group of religious and non-religious, aunts and uncles of both fallen soldiers and of those who were murdered at the Nova Festival. Even the siblings who came together were of different religious persuasions. Each of us has our own perspective on everything that has happened. One of the non-religious women turned to us religious folk and said: “It is easier for you guys, because you have faith.” I tried to explain that faith gives meaning and purpose to life, it gives us hope for the future and the ability to carry on, but it is not a panacea for tragedy and terrible suffering. Faith does not take away the pain, the anger, the sadness and the suffering.
I believe that there is a God who created and controls the world. I believe that God cares. I believe that God does everything with intention and purpose. I believe that there is a good reason behind everything that happens; that all is for the good and for the betterment of mankind. I also believe that every single one of us has a relationship with God, whether we know it or not. There is a famous quote in the name of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev: “One can be for God or against God, but one can never be without God.”
Having said that, I am also left extremely traumatized, horrified, desperately saddened, distraught, shocked, worried, and yes, furious from the events of this past year. There really are no words to describe what we have been through here in Israel, on a personal, national and international level. And yes, I am angry at God. God knows it, and I remind Him of it all the time. I have a relationship with God, and just as in every relationship there are good times and bad times, so too ours. I cannot understand why God is making His people suffer so. Are we perfect? No. Are we supposed to be? No. Can and should God save us, even from ourselves? Yes, He should. Is that a “chutzpadik” (cheeky) thing for me to say? Maybe, but the Gemara in Sanhedrin (105a) states: “Is there any father who hates his son?” That is to say: God could never hate us, we are His children and He will surely help the Jewish people. The Gemara continues: “Rav Nacḥman says: Chutzpah/Impudence is effective even toward Heaven.” The meaning is clear, God loves us, and if we beseech and demand of Him, God will have no choice but to acquiesce.
Let me clarify that I am using the terms angry and chutzpah in a respectful way. The definition of angry that I am using here is: having the feeling people get when something unfair, painful, or bad happens; or being indignant at injustice. As for Chutzpah, it can be good or bad. I am speaking of the good kind: having the gumption and fearlessness to stand up against injustice, evil and suffering; to demand what is right, good and just, even from God. I do not mean that one should lash out at God in a disrespectful way. I often tell my students that they can question and comment on anything they want to in my class, as long as it is done in a respectful way and with the intention to grow. The same applies here.
Sitting at the shiva house of good friends of ours whose son was killed in Gaza (shortly before my nephew was killed), I recall that many of the soldiers there were speaking of all the miracles that happened to them in Gaza. My friend, the mother of the fallen soldier, turned to me and said that she wonders why her son did not receive a miracle. He was a very special boy and he certainly deserved one. In fact, when one hears all of the stories of the fallen soldiers, you realize that every single one of them was an incredibly special person, no matter their lifestyle or belief system. A deep sense of sadness, anger, and chutzpah boils up in me every time we lose another precious soul. I want to scream: “Why God, why? Enough already! Your people have suffered far too much; Look at how Am Yisrael remains faithful to You, despite thousands of years of persecution! Have mercy! What more can You want? Bring salvation and redemption, NOW!”
I am fully aware that many will disagree with my approach. How many times have I heard people say that they have no complaints against God, that they accept His judgement completely and they are not angry with Him at all? I admire them if they can say that wholeheartedly, but I think being angry at and challenging God are legitimate Jewish and human responses, and we can see as much throughout the Tanach/Bible. Moshe, Avraham, Iyov (Job), David, Jeremiah, Rachel, and Chana (and the list goes on and on), all questioned/challenged/argued with God. There is also the element of trying to change that which can be changed vs. accepting that which cannot. We humans don’t know what God’s plan is for us. We don’t know how much of the plan we can really change, so we have to try. Humans do not like suffering, and we do not (and may never) understand the need for it. I think that there is a difference between accepting God’s judgement versus attempting to understand and agree with it.
King David himself said (Tehillim 22:2): “My God, my God, why have You abandoned me? [You are] far from my salvation, from the words of my anguished cries.” That verse always jumps out at me. He also said in chapter 43: “Avenge me, O God, and plead my cause against an unkind nation, from a man of deceit and injustice You shall rescue me. For You are the God of my strength, why have You abandoned me? Why should I walk in gloom under the oppression of the enemy? Send Your light and Your truth, that they may lead me; they shall bring me to Your Holy Mount and to Your dwellings.”
I have been saying the whole book of Tehillim\Psalms since the beginning of the war (I am on week/book #46 – who would believe?!), and I have to admit that the week my nephew, Yakir Hexter HY”D, was killed, I had a hard time touching the book. My hands shook violently every time I picked it up. What happened to the thousands of Tehillim I said for our beautiful Yakir? Why was his beautiful soul plucked from us at such a young age? I know my/our prayers are never in vain, that they have a power beyond words. But I also know that Yakir, and all the other soldiers who gave their lives, and all Jews today and throughout the ages who have been so brutally slaughtered, did nothing to deserve such cruel deaths. As far as I am concerned, God could have waited another 50 years to take them all. But He didn’t, and I know that He is correct, even as I argue, disagree, sob and beseech. God’s job is to do what must be done, my job is to shake the Heavens and rally against the suffering. I think we make a great combination!
https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/angry-at-god-with-perfect-faith/