Arguing with God: a long-standing Jewish Tradition

inside the cosmic egg

It’s been suggested by some scholars that God chose the Hebrews as his special people due to their contentiousness. Although I can think of a few other reasons, the idea does have merit, for their propensity to challenge and argue surfaces repeatedly throughout the Old/Hebrew Bible. Moreover, neither Christianity nor Islam, the other two Abrahamic religions, has the same reputation.  The interesting point about this exclusive claim, though, is that Jews argue not so much with each other—but with God.

A brief survey of the Hebrew Bible illustrates the point. Way back in Genesis, when God shared with Abraham his plan to wipe out the people of Sodom and Gomorrah, Abraham replied, “Will You really wipe out the innocent with the guilty?” “Far be it from You to do such a thing, to put to death the innocent with the guilty, making innocent and guilty the same. Far be it from You! Will not the Judge of all the earth do justice?” (In effect, calling God’s intention hypocritical.)

Fourteen verses later we witness Jacob’s apparent wrestling match with God, and moreover, his audacious demand for a blessing before letting go! Onward to Exodus, where in response to God’s intent to wipe out the Jews over the golden calf fiasco, Moses reminded him of his promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Israel to multiply their seed like the stars of the heavens, and give to them land that they shall hold in  “estate forever.” To further turn the screws, he wondered what the slaughter would look like to their old foe, the Egyptians. “Why should the Egyptians say, ‘For evil He brought them out, to kill them in the mountains, to put an end to them on the face of the earth’?

Thereafter, we take brief note of Jeremiah, who chastised God, saying,“…I would speak with you about your justice: Why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why do all the faithless live at ease?”  And finally, we end with Job. Job, who in the translation provided by Jack Miles’, in God: A Biography, responds to God’s comparison of his own sweeping powers to the insignificance of Job, “You know you can do anything. Nothing can stop you… Word of you had reached my ears, but now that my eyes have seen you, I shudder with sorrow for mortal clay. (325) (In effect, repudiating God’s justice and fairness.)

The takeaway?  All this challenge and contention is exactly what God wanted. According to David Frank, “by arguing, rather than simply exercising raw power, God relinquishes control over and vests freedom to humans.” For instance, when God shares with Abraham his proposal to wipe out Sodom and Gomorrah, He “all but invites Abraham to question His justice . . .” (Laytner,5), thereby, “establishing a bilateral sharing of power.” (77) And, of course, there’s also the fact that He refrains from smiting and blotting any of these annoying, hypercritical Jewish prophets out of existence. Presumably, the reason he does not is precisely because of their tendency to criticize.

And so, we come to the crux of the matter. Does this God of the Hebrew Bible actually want the Jews to take on some of His responsibility themselves? On the home page of my website, I explain a Cosmic Egg Creation story seen throughout the world, but there are many other creation myths. One of them is a Jewish creation story, embedded deep within the Kabbala (Zechariah 2:14-47).

There are different versions and far deeper complexities to the tale, but essentially, in the beginning, “there was nothing but God. In the heart of the Oneness of All, however, there arose a need to create a world. God therefore contracted to create a void within which the world could emerge. When the Infinite contracted, darkness filled it. And when God said, “Let there be light” (Gen. 1:3), light filled the darkness, as well as ten holy vessels.

God sent forth those ten vessels. Had they arrived intact, the world would have been perfect. But the light was too powerful, and six of them shattered.  The result? Divine sparks are lodged everywhere, in both revealed and concealed places, and therefore the world received only the shards of the archetypal values inherent within the light.

The task of the Jewish people, then, is to collect these sparks from around the world and reunite them, which is why some claim there have been so many exiles. At any rate, when enough holy sparks have been gathered, the broken vessels will be restored, and tikkun olam, the repair of the world, will be complete. For many a Jew, particularly the non-orthodox, this has resulted in a desire to carry on the prophetic tradition of identifying and denouncing wrongs, as well as the more hands-on task of repairing society through social justice reform.

Although the benefits of being God’s covenant partner may at times seem dubious to outsiders–who can’t help but recall Jewish persecution… their responsibility for repairing the world provides them with a truly heroic raison d’etre.  If only we could all feel so gifted!

*A side note: As noted by David Frank, in “Arguing with God, Talmudic Discourse and the Jewish Counter-model,” Christian versions of the Old Testament typically repress the notion of arguing with God; both the King James and Revised Standard versions seek to establish an attitude of contrition and to highlight the need for the Messiah.

As a consequence, almost every Christian Bible translation of Job’s reply is a variation of the New Revised Standard Version’s rendering: “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted… Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know… I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” {Holy Bible, Job 42:2-6)