Arguing With God Is Part Of Jewish Faith, Says Rabbi

Who like You is among the dumb, my God? You kept silence

You were silent when they destroyed Your Temple.

You remained silent when the wicked trod Your children

underfoot, and You sold Your people without gain or profit.

We came through fire, water and flame. . . .

You are the zealous One and Avenger - where then is

Your vengeance?

- a prayer from the Middle Ages

Anson Laytner thinks the ideal relationship with God is akin to a marriage.

A source of comfort and nurturing, room for growth, good times and bad, and plenty of argument.

Arguing with God?

``Traditionally, it's Jewish people speaking their minds to God, taking him to task for, usually, bad things.''

Laytner, a rabbi and community relations director for the Jewish Federation of Greater Seattle, is the author of the recently released book, ``Arguing with God,'' (Jason Aronson, $25) which traces the history of the tradition that is ``as ancient as Judaism itself.''

In the modern era, the marriage has gone flat for many Jews. And Laytner thinks the lack of vigorous interaction is part of the problem - because prayers don't include argument or because there is no one on the receiving end.

``If they go to a synagogue, they're only going to hear the good stuff, not the dark side. They don't really talk about the significant issues, which for Jews is the Holocaust.''

In other times, rabbis led the community in argument in the form of prayers, Laytner said. During the Middle Ages when the soldiers of the Crusades killed Jews along their path to the Holy Lands, the rabbis raged at their God for the slaughter, the injustice.

``I think it is a safety valve. There is a tremendous therapeutic value in having the spiritual leader of your community articulate the anger, the pain the sorrow and the guilt that the survivors felt,'' Laytner said.

Twentieth-century Jews who lived through the Holocaust or who live with its legacy, do not find the same comfort, Laytner said.

``I don't know why that's changed. People don't expect rabbis to do these things anymore. I don't know which came first . . . Maybe people just want the traditions without the striving.''

The task has been taken up by the poets and authors whose literature has become the protest prayers of their forebears.

It is something Laytner himself is not comfortable doing.

``I'm not sure I have the spiritual depth or the worthiness to do that,'' Laytner said.

``A special kind of person,'' should lead those angry, sorrowful prayers, Laytner said.

``Maybe (Holocaust) survivors should lead us in those prayers.''

``I think, in part, if Jews heard these darker feelings articulated in prayer, they would find prayer more real,''

It might keep them involved with the traditions.

Or, maybe, the time for argument has passed, Laytner said.

The principal argument for many no longer is ``Is God just?'' but, rather, ``Is there a God?'' If one believes the biblical accounts of what has gone before, Laytner said, ``We know an awful lot about what God has been . . . We know nothing about what God is or will be.

``We should take a giant step forward and let go of the past, to see where we end up,'' Laytner said.

``Maybe God is trying to tell us something: This is a godless world and everything depends on what we do.''

That is where his own journey through the traditions has taken him, said Laytner, 39, who did his rabbinical studies in Israel and at the Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati.

A godless world does not have to be devoid of spiritual traditions, Laytner said.

``The values of Jewish heritage are absolutely vital for us to live by. They are what is going to change the world for the better, and not prayer to God.

``We are totally prepared to praise God for the beauty of creation, to thank God for the food we have. . . . It is also perfectly OK to criticize God when things go badly.''

``It points the way to a different type of relationship with God, one that is full. It empowers people to be much more aggressive in taking care of their lives and taking care of this world. You can't lay everything at God's doorstep.''