God of Our Understanding: Jewish Spirituality and Recovery from Addiction

by Shais Taub

Judaism sees a world in which God is all-powerful but not kind as an impossibility, nothing more than a hypothetical construct that cannot actually exist. In this light, the very existence of the world is in and of itself a testimony to the fact that God is not just powerful but also kind.

God’s being Infinite and One does not exist apart from creation; rather creation exists within Him.

As Kabbalah explains, God created the world “in order to bestow goodness upon His creations, for it is the nature of the Good to do good.”

Can I really say that something is bad because I don’t like it?

In the Talmud, this sentiment is expressed by Rabbi Akiva’s adage: “All that the Merciful does, He does for the good.”

The Talmud’s message is that man, with his limited vision, cannot possibly see the true significance of earthly events. He must therefore withhold his subjective evaluation of things and accept the events of his life with the faith that God knows all, can do all, and is the essence of good.

No detail of creation is left to chance.

Tolerance, acceptance, and forgiveness are indispensable to the survival of any intimate relationship—even more so in our relationship with God.

In Steps 5, 6, and 7, the recovering addict is guided through a process of removing the blockages that impede his or her connection to God.

The sixteenth-century kabbalist Moses Cordovero elucidates the meaning of each of the attributes as follows: “Who is a God like You”—God enlivens us even when we choose to misappropriate this vitality. “Who bears transgression”—God protects us from being consumed by the negativity that we have unleashed, thus giving us the opportunity to return to Him. “And pardons the wrongdoing”—When we return to Him, God cleanses us. “Of the remnant of His heritage”—God empathizes with our pain, for we are His “inheritance.” “He does not sustain His anger forever”—God allows Himself to be appeased. “For He desires loving kindness”—God lovingly emphasizes our merits, not our deficiencies. “He will once more have compassion on us”—God grants a fresh start to those who return to Him. “[And] forget our transgressions”—God chooses to “forget” our past misdeeds so that they do not interfere with our present relationship with Him. “And You will hurl all our sins into the depths of the ocean”—God views our mistakes as expendable. “Grant truth to Jacob”—God is kind even to those who only uphold the basic letter of the law, which is personified by Jacob. “[And] loving kindness to Abraham”—God displays generosity, as did our forefather, Abraham. “As You vowed to our forefathers”—God conveys merit upon us that is not our own but that of our ancestors. “Long ago”—When not even the merit of our ancestors is sufficient, God remembers His original love for His people.

It is clear from the wording of Steps 5, 6, and 7 that their aim is not just to assist us in obtaining pardon or expiation of guilt. Their main purpose is to fully restore our relationship with God.

Judaism calls this process kaparah, which means “cleansing” or “atonement” and is very different than plain forgiveness. As soon as a person mends his or her ways (and makes restitution when necessary), God immediately forgives. But that does not mean that the damage to the relationship has been repaired.

Forgiveness just means the waiving of punishment, but atonement is complete reconciliation.

Judaism teaches that God has no interest in using our failings against us to push us even further away from Him. He is not like a mortal of flesh and blood who holds a grudge, nor does He spurn us for being imperfect. To the contrary, God willingly accepts all those who return to Him. In the words of King David: “. . . a broken and a contrite heart, You God, will not despise” (Psalms 51:19).

Our sages conveyed this thought in many ways: God says, ”My children, make for Me an opening the size of an eye of a needle, and I will make for you openings big enough for wagons and carriages to pass through.” One who comes to purify oneself is then granted ample assistance from on High. One who sanctifies oneself even a small bit down in this world is then greatly sanctified from Heaven.

Yes, God is humble. And what is humility but making space for another?

God makes the process of reunion and reconciliation conditional on our approaching Him. Rather than dominating us, God allows us to have an active and defining role in our relationship with Him. In the case of Steps 5, 6, and 7, we have to be truthful with Him about our faults (Step Five); we have to be ready to change (Step Six); and we have to ask for His help (Step Seven).

“Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.” God has a will. This is an incredibly important point. Step Three, which speaks of God’s caring as well as Steps Five, Six, and Seven, which allude to His desire for a relationship with us, both imply that God has a will. He wants to care for us. He wants to have a relationship with us (indeed, even more than He wants us to behave perfectly). But here, in Step Eleven, God’s will is explicitly mentioned for the first time. And not only does He have a will, He also has a specific “will for us.” God wants something from the individual.

Many philosophical and religious systems view the idea of God’s wanting something as problematic. How can an infinite and perfect being want, or be in want of, anything? Does this not imply a lacking of something or someone? Judaism, however, is not at all troubled by this concept. Indeed, the very foundation of Judaism as a covenantal religion is that God most certainly does want something from us. God promises to uphold His end of the deal, but He asks for certain things in return. As God told Abraham, father of the Jewish people: “I will establish My covenant as an everlasting covenant . . . As for you, you must keep My covenant, you, and your descendants after you for the generations to come” (Genesis 17:7–9). Again, just prior to the Revelation at Sinai, God tells Moses: “Now if you obey Me fully and keep My covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession . . . ” (Exodus 19:5). God is clearly asking for something. The particular aspects of His will—what He wants and does not want—are the very basis of Torah law. The commandments are not technical rules but an expression of God’s desires. Indeed, as the kabbalists describe it, God made Himself vulnerable, so-to-speak, by articulating His likes and dislikes and allowing His creations free choice of whether or not to abide by these wishes. This is how God makes Himself available for intimacy with His creations. As such, Judaism does not view adherence to God’s commandments so much as a matter of obe...

In fact, this will is no less than the driving force behind all of creation. Because God needs nothing, He also did not need to create. Had He chosen not to be a Creator, He would still be God. Yet God wants to create. And He wants to create because He wants something from His creations.

In the words of the Midrash, God made the world because “He yearned to have a dwelling place in the lower realms.” The Chasidic masters explain this to mean that God created the world because of a passionate desire to be “at home” in a realm inhabited by sentient beings with f...

the very difference between a need and a desire is that a need can be “rationally” defended but a desire has no “practical” explanation. As Rabbi Schneur Zalman, founder of the Chabad school of Chasidism, used to say when discussing the nature of God’s will for creation, “When it comes to a desire, you cannot ask rational questions.” For example, let’s say your spouse says that they need something; it is possible to ask them to explain their need. If they cannot, you might even be able to argue that they don’t really need it. However, if your spouse says that they want something, even if they cannot convincingly explain why, it doesn’t mean that they don’t really want it. That’s the definition of a want as opposed to a need. A need is practical. A desire is impractical. Thus, the appropriate response to a desire is either to fulfill it or not to fulfill it, but not to argue with it. So, too, when we speak of God’s will, we mean His irrational, impractical desire. The very impracticality of God’s relationship with us is what makes it intimate as opposed to utilitarian. God doesn’t need us. He wants us.

En la adiccion al inicio es un quiero irracional y al final una necesidad

our relationship with God is not practical. It is wonderfully impractical, and that is precisely what makes it so intimate.

God’s relationship with us is not rational. It’s not about practicality. It’s about desire, and desire is not rational. It is not subintelligent but supraintelligent; it transcends logic.

As we mentioned earlier, God expresses His will by giving us a commandment. The Hebrew word “mitzvah” is often colloquially used to mean a good deed; more plainly translated, it means a “commandment.” However, the word mitzvah means so much more: it comes from the word tzavsah, which means “connection.” A mitzvah is a connection, or an opportunity to connect. The fulfillment of will connects us where intellect falls short. In other words, it is action more than feelings, more than understanding, and more than faith that actually connects us to God. This is a quintessentially Jewish concept.