Belief and Action

"The Torah, the foundation of Judaism, contains 613 commandments (commonly called "Taryag Mitzvot"... "Taryag," is the Hebrew numerical equivalent of 613). Almost all of them tell you to do something or not to do something; none of them says "believe something" or "don't believe something" with the possible exception of the first of the Ten Commandments. Judaism has certainly always included a number of beliefs which serve as the source and rationale for observing the commandments, and we could probably even describe a mainstream Jewish position on many issues; but it has largely left it to the individual to decide the particular form of belief to adopt, as long as the person continues to observe Jewish law." Jewish Law Within the Conservative Movement, Conservative Judaism: Our Ancestors to Our Descendants.

I have always cringed at the suggestion that faith is rooted in thought rather than action. The human mind is far too chaotic - too easily swayed by its link to emotion and ego-identification - to allow for faith to be seated in personal cosmologies or subscription to dogma. That is to say, human will - not emotional affinity with any concept of Truth - is the real basis for faith, though insecurity and guilt often cause us to question this understanding. 

Less the Temple and sacrificial observances, there are 297 mitzvot which can still be fulfilled today. I admit that I am somewhat intimidated by such a large number of laws. Yet, just behind the veil of my trepidation is an indescribable joy. I am not sure if the joy springs from the challenge to commit myself so fully to practicing my convictions or if it is rooted in hope for what could arise out of the commitment. Perhaps, my nervous joy resides somewhere in between. Certainly, my adoption of a fully observant practice will be a gradual process, but the undertaking has already begun. The hardest part will be doing-before-understanding, but I am confident that my journey down this heavily-trodden path won't leave me alone in the cold.

My Christian heritage has planted very deep roots. I was brought up to understand religious commitment in terms of believing, wherein faith is meant to be understood as trust: trust that God will renew my sinful nature and (quite literally) create a new nature within me - a nature that craves holiness and purity. Action - according to this understanding - is an afterthought. A tree will be known by its fruit. This is a nice concept until you are faced with trials in life that wedge themselves into your belief system and begin yielding undesired fruits (from the Christian perspective): doubt, skepticism, and cynicism. 

It is hard to be a doubting Christian. In my experience, preachers generally frown upon exploring doubts about what we have been taught is central to our salvation. Instead, we are told to continue trusting. "God will sustain us if we only have faith enough to believe." Salvation is, after all, a work completed entirely on our behalf without any effort on our parts, thank you very much(!). "Good works don't save you," we are told.

Not only do I think that this is the most difficult portion of Christian doctrine to swallow, I also think that Jesus never intended for there to be such a separation between belief and action. In fact, he is purported to have said "Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets. I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them" (Matthew 5:17). How has the Church moved so far from this declaration of Jesus' own commitment to the mitzvot? 

Committing oneself to a life of religious observation must mean more than a mental nod to a doctrinal creed. Though 297 might seem a large number of commandments to observe, it is precisely this weaving of the sacred thread through the fabric of our practical waking activities - everything from eating to dressing to working to loving - that gives me such comfort and provides such relief to my usual spiritual anxieties. I do not have to commit to a belief to justify an action. I just have to hear, understand, and obey. In doing, I absorb the effects of my action; I see the results of my observance; I learn from the doing. Bradley Artson explains it thus: "Judaism is the indispensable framework that translates ideas, emotions, and values into the organization of home, family, and community. That framework is embodied in halakhah. Halakhah touches every aspect of Jewish living, transforms mundane habits into opportunities to renew our commitment to Jewish values, links us to Jewish history and the Jewish people around the world, and opens pathways to God and to a sense of the sacred in the everyday." (It's a Mitzvah!)  

I am particularly drawn to this last part: "Halakhah...opens pathways to God and to a sense of the sacred in every day." As familiar as this concept must be to lifelong Jews, it is absolutely revolutionary to me! The idea that faith is rooted in action, that faith is a verb rather than a state of mind... radical stuff for me.

This past weekend I was privileged to participate in the Tapestry of Jewish Learning here in Austin. Central to everything I heard (in three VERY different classes: Queer Spirituality, Jews and Tattoos, and The Kibbutz Movement in Israel), was this idea that Jews do or do not do... [insert any activity here]. Of course, behind each of these do's and dont's are millennia of scholarship, interpretation, re-interpretation, and debate. But initially the commandments and prohibitions enshrined in the Torah were intended to address the concern of greatest importance to the ancient Israelites: setting themselves apart from their archenemies, their former captors, the Egyptians. This setting themselves apart, creating for themselves an identity unique in the world in practicing an understanding of the Divine that was also unique in the world, has been what has preserved them since their earliest days in the Sinai. Jews are still known for what they do and do not do. In this "apart-ness" they find community, they share values, they discover and renew spirituality, and they commune with God. Whether or not they believe in or even agree with the reasoning of the mitzvot, their identity is still preserved... their spiritual vitality is still protected and perpetuated. Life is given meaning through action. Like love, faith is a verb. Like love, faith is expressed in doing.