My Rabbi’s Sermons Drove Me to Hinduism

The recently released results of a survey of sermons in American synagogues revealed what every American synagogue-goer already knew: Most of the sermons focused on politics and Israel. The survey, conducted by the Jewish People Policy Institute, used AI to analyze 4,400 sermons given in 34 Reform, Conservative and Modern Orthodox synagogues between October, 2021, and October, 2024. Even before Hamas attacked Israel on October 7, 2023, about half the sermons across denominations focused on politics.

Growing up in a Conservative congregation in suburban New Jersey, my life’s trajectory was propelled by this phenomenon. Our family was devoutly dedicated to the synagogue. I went to services every Friday night and Shabbat morning. I was the president of our synagogue youth group USY, and on the National Board of USY.

The high point of the Shabbat services, relieving the boredom of the prayers before and of the Torah reading afterwards, was the rabbi’s sermon. A polished orator, the rabbi spoke about politics, antisemitism, or Israel, with an occasion sermon on pop psychology. God was never mentioned.

My many years of Hebrew school taught me nothing about the Jewish concept of God.

Innately spiritual, I knew that God existed. Yet my many years of Hebrew school, which I attended until I was 18 years old, taught me nothing about the Jewish concept of God. God was like our distant relatives in Haifa. I knew they existed but I had no relationship with them.

Then, when I was a sophomore at Brandeis University, I had an epiphany. It was 1968, when 80% of the students were Jewish. I saw a poster advertising a panel discussion about God to be held in the Student Union. The four professors on the panel, all of them Jewish, included the esteemed Dr. Abraham Maslow, founder of Humanistic Psychology, whom I adulated. The unanimous conclusion of the panel was what they called a “humanistic concept of God,” meaning the best part of every human being. As for the transcendent, supernatural God of Judaism, they dismissed it out of hand.

I was excited to finally have a concept of God. The humanistic God was intellectually cogent, supported my value system, and made no demands on my behavior. It was good enough for me but apparently it wasn’t good enough for God, because God then orchestrated my life’s path to draw me into a real relationship with Him.

Culture Shock in India

I wanted to go abroad for my junior year. Japan was my first choice but the Japanese scholastic year did not sync with the American school year. France was my second choice, but only French majors were eligible, and I was a psych major.

Forlornly surveying the pamphlets in the office of Foreign Studies, I noticed the “College Year in India” program of the University of Wisconsin. It accepted applicants from all colleges and all majors. I applied.

In the late 60s, the West’s infatuation with Eastern spirituality was just beginning. One of my psych professors, James Klee, had given me a private tutorial in the Bhagavad Gita. I was game to learn more. Accepted to the program, in September, 1968, I arrived in Varanasi as a student in the philosophy department of Benaras Hindu University.

During the summer’s orientation, the program had tried to prepare us for culture shock: No running hot water, toilets were holes in the floor straddled by two porcelain footrests, and water could be drunk only after inserting iodine tablets.

My biggest culture shock was that I found myself in a God-immersed society.

My biggest culture shock, however, was that I found myself in a God-immersed society. A temple, or at least a shrine, appeared every 20 meters. The center of every home was a shrine to the family’s chosen deity. No one entered or left the house without bowing to the deity.

Most shocking of all was that all of my professors, plus my friend Mittoo’s father who was a scientist, believed in God. Not a by-the-way lip service belief in God, but a loving, intimate relationship with their chosen deity. God mattered. More than politics. More than psychology.

The more I studied Vedanta philosophy and the more discussions I had with these intellectual and passionate believers, the vague, invisible, and largely irrelevant God of my Conservative synagogue was replaced in my mind by a tangible, loving, supernatural presence that permeated daily life.

God-consciousness became the goal of my life. After a year in India, I returned to Brandeis and finished my degree. The day after graduation I joined a Vedanta ashram in the woods of Massachusetts, with an Indian woman guru. I spent the next 15 years there as a monastic member.

The Rabbi Visits

Vedanta is a universalistic philosophy, teaching that all religions are equally valid paths to God. Therefore, our ashram routinely invited speakers from other religions. Our stock Judaism representative was a Jewish Renewal rabbi who spoke more about Sufism than Judaism.

A Hindu woman who lived at the ashram was a teaching assistant to Elie Weisel at Boston University. Through him, she met Rabbi Joseph Polak, an Orthodox rabbi who was head of Hillel at B.U. In November, 1984, we invited Rabbi Polak to speak about Judaism at the ashram.

I had attended synagogue services every Friday night and Shabbat morning. The rabbi had never once talked about God.

Rabbi Polak came and spoke about “Love of God Even unto Madness,” quoting Maimonides. I sat there in shock. I knew that Maimonides was a mainstream Jewish thinker, not a fringe figure. But what did love of God have to do with Judaism? I had attended synagogue services every Friday night and every Shabbat morning. The rabbi had never talked about God.

The words “love of God” were never once uttered from our synagogue pulpit, that I could guarantee. Yet here was this Orthodox rabbi talking about love of God as a central dimension of Judaism.

Eight months later I had left the ashram and was studying Torah in Jerusalem.

Are Jews Interested in God?

While living at the ashram, I would go home to visit my parents twice a year. During those visits, I would accompany them to their synagogue for Friday night services. It was a large synagogue, with a sprawling main sanctuary. After one such service with its typical sermon about politics, I confronted the rabbi. “Why do you never talk about God?”

He replied, “Did you notice how many people were there tonight?”

“Yes,” I said. “The place was full.”

His rejoinder stunned me: “How many people do you think would come if I talked about God?”

Could it be true? Are Jews so disinterested in God?

A Pew study entitled, “Jewish Americans in 2020” reported that only 26% of U.S. Jewish adults believe in God as described in the Bible, compared to 80% of Christians and 56% of U.S. adults overall. Some 50% of Jews say they believe in some other spiritual force or higher power rather than the God described in the Bible. Some 22% of Jews say they do not believe in any kind of higher power or spiritual force, compared to just 10% of American non-Jews.

Why do so few Jews believe in God?

A God That Makes Demands

I have my own theory. (Feel free to post your own replies in the comments section.) Back at Brandeis, my Jewish professors did not believe in God. In India, the equally intellectual professors all believed in God because in India, you can believe in God and do what you want. (There are ethical principles called yama and niyama, but they are not obligatory.) But in Judaism, God gives commandments, lots of them, such as “Don’t commit adultery, don’t steal, keep the Sabbath holy, don’t eat shellfish.”

In Judaism, God gives commandments, lots of them. So if you want to eat shrimp or commit adultery, you have to get rid of God.

So if you want to eat shrimp or commit adultery (not necessarily in that order), you have to get rid of God.

When God revealed Himself at Mt. Sinai to the entire Jewish nation, He did so by giving the Ten Commandments. The implicit statement was: If you want to connect to Me, transform yourself by doing My will.

New York Times columnist Ross Douthat’s new book Believe: Why Everyone Should Be Religious has become an immediate bestseller. The book presents scientific and rational reasons for believing in God. In an interview with Bari Weiss, Douthat, a devout Catholic, stated something that made me laugh. He explained that an obstacle to believing is that religious practice is hard. As an example, he told how that morning, during Lent, he couldn’t make his children a sandwich with meat.

No meat for 40 days? That’s hard? Try no bacon, lobster, clams, or beef stroganoff ever? Try keeping the Sabbath holy by not going to the movies on Friday nights. Try not starting up with your beautiful, young, married secretary. No wonder so few Jews believe in the God of the Bible.

However, the Catch-22 of the commandments of Judaism is that they are the very means of creating a loving relationship with the infinite God. The two foundational commandments of the Torah are:

• Love your neighbor as yourself.
• Love the Lord your God with your whole heart, your whole soul, and all your might.

In India, one shows love for one’s chosen diety by offering flowers, fruits, or sweets to the idol. In Judaism, one shows love for God by keeping the mitzvahs.

Just as I show my love for my husband by giving him what he wants for his birthday, so I show my love for God by doing His will. You don’t want me to eat ice cream for dessert during a meat meal? Okay, I can wait for the Bourbon Praline Pecan because I love You. Every mitzvah—lighting Shabbat candles, unplugging from electronics even for a few hours on Shabbat, giving charity, calling your mother—forges a relationship with the One who commanded it.

According to Judaism, to believe in God and disregard His will is like being married to a spouse who lives on another continent and never communicates except by text. Jews get it that having a relationship with God entails keeping—one by one, ever so gradually– His commandments.

No wonder it’s easier for the rabbi to talk about politics.

But isn’t it time for the 50% of US Jews who believe in “a spiritual force or higher power rather than the God described in the Bible,” to start learning who the God of Judaism really is?

The post My Rabbi’s Sermons Drove Me to Hinduism appeared first on Aish.com.