On the Unprovable Nature of God
Feb. 16th, 2009 10:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhuOn the Unprovable Nature of God
(Note: Although this essay is occasionally whimsical, and is presented slightly tongue-in-cheek, I am serious about the underlying approach to the problems of theodicy and the question of faith in an unprovable God, which, I contend, are one another's converse.)
The problem of theodicy is as ancient as the belief in God. Abraham asked, "Shall not the Judge of the world rule justly?" The Psalmist asked, "O God, how long shall the wicked, how long shall the wicked exult?" Many pages of the Talmud are devoted to answering the question of why sometimes the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer.
Let us attempt to define this problem somewhat formally. (If you're not mathematically inclined, you can skim this part.)
Let us measure a person's goodness G on a scale from +1 (a tzaddik gamur, a completely righteous person) to -1 (a rasha gamur, a completely wicked person); similarly, let us represent a person's prosperity P on a similar normalized scale of +1 (a long life with no suffering) to -1 (a miserable and disappointing existence.) Finally, let us label the correlation between G and P over the population as c.
For those who were skimming, the idea is this: we can measure the relationship between how good one is and how well one does by a number; if the number is +1 then every mitzvah is rewarded and every sin is punished in exact propotion; if the number is 0 then there is no apparent relationship between deed and lot; if the number is -1 then sins are rewarded and good deeds are punished.
In this world, the apparent value for c is 0. That is, we don't see a relationship between one's actions and the protection of providence. God's face is hidden from us. Why would that be?
According to a mainstream traditional Jewish understanding of the world, God wants us to do mitzvot. We don't always understand why these mitzvot are important, but let us accept the premise that they are what God wants from us.
The Talmud (BT Berachot) claims that a mitzvah done because one wants to is not as precious to God as a mitzvah done out of a sense of obligation. Perhaps this is because a mitzvah done voluntarily is unreliable, done willy-nilly, and with a change in fortune the individual might lose interest.
And certainly it seems reasonable to hold that part of the reason the performance of a mitzvah has value is that it is an expression of faith and hope. It takes a certain devotion to follow the commandments of a God whose existence cannot be proven; to follow the rules of a provable God is hardly more meritorious than paying one's taxes to the IRS.
In any case, these two concepts suggest the following line of thought: When c=1, everyone will do mitzvot (because it would be foolish not to), but those mitzvot will have scant value to God. On the other hand, when c=-1, no one will do mitzvot (because it would be foolish to do so), although if anyone were that foolish, their actions would be valuable. Somewhere in the middle is the maximum value, where enough people do mitzvot and those mitzvot have enough value.
Now, of course, the mathematical house of cards I'm erecting here is less rigorous than it appears. Even if one accepts the rough premise, there's no reason to believe that the relationship is symmetrical about c=0.
But the reasoning is suggestive.
There is value to God in remaining hidden, in allowing the world to continue along as though God did not exist, at least at the macroscopic level. This might be how to maximize God's "return" on the universe.
In individual cases, of course, this does not preclue Divine intervention as appropriate. God might choose to give a person of weaker faith a little more help, while a person of stronger faith can withstand a stronger test. The Talmud certainly suggests this in the adage that God, at least in the Bible, does not subject a person to a trial unless God knows that the individual has the inner strength to emerge successfully. But such a thumb on the scales of destiny must be used sparingly, lest it betray the Divine presence and shift c noticeably towards positive ground.
And it does not preclude Divine revelation (at Sinai, for instance) to get the ball rolling, as it were.
To recap: A hidden God may result in the right balance of number of mitzvot and value of mitzvot. This could explain theodicy, and also would explain why "If God exists, why wouldn't God make God's existence known?"
(Note: Although this essay is occasionally whimsical, and is presented slightly tongue-in-cheek, I am serious about the underlying approach to the problems of theodicy and the question of faith in an unprovable God, which, I contend, are one another's converse.)
The problem of theodicy is as ancient as the belief in God. Abraham asked, "Shall not the Judge of the world rule justly?" The Psalmist asked, "O God, how long shall the wicked, how long shall the wicked exult?" Many pages of the Talmud are devoted to answering the question of why sometimes the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer.
Let us attempt to define this problem somewhat formally. (If you're not mathematically inclined, you can skim this part.)
Let us measure a person's goodness G on a scale from +1 (a tzaddik gamur, a completely righteous person) to -1 (a rasha gamur, a completely wicked person); similarly, let us represent a person's prosperity P on a similar normalized scale of +1 (a long life with no suffering) to -1 (a miserable and disappointing existence.) Finally, let us label the correlation between G and P over the population as c.
For those who were skimming, the idea is this: we can measure the relationship between how good one is and how well one does by a number; if the number is +1 then every mitzvah is rewarded and every sin is punished in exact propotion; if the number is 0 then there is no apparent relationship between deed and lot; if the number is -1 then sins are rewarded and good deeds are punished.
In this world, the apparent value for c is 0. That is, we don't see a relationship between one's actions and the protection of providence. God's face is hidden from us. Why would that be?
According to a mainstream traditional Jewish understanding of the world, God wants us to do mitzvot. We don't always understand why these mitzvot are important, but let us accept the premise that they are what God wants from us.
The Talmud (BT Berachot) claims that a mitzvah done because one wants to is not as precious to God as a mitzvah done out of a sense of obligation. Perhaps this is because a mitzvah done voluntarily is unreliable, done willy-nilly, and with a change in fortune the individual might lose interest.
And certainly it seems reasonable to hold that part of the reason the performance of a mitzvah has value is that it is an expression of faith and hope. It takes a certain devotion to follow the commandments of a God whose existence cannot be proven; to follow the rules of a provable God is hardly more meritorious than paying one's taxes to the IRS.
In any case, these two concepts suggest the following line of thought: When c=1, everyone will do mitzvot (because it would be foolish not to), but those mitzvot will have scant value to God. On the other hand, when c=-1, no one will do mitzvot (because it would be foolish to do so), although if anyone were that foolish, their actions would be valuable. Somewhere in the middle is the maximum value, where enough people do mitzvot and those mitzvot have enough value.
Now, of course, the mathematical house of cards I'm erecting here is less rigorous than it appears. Even if one accepts the rough premise, there's no reason to believe that the relationship is symmetrical about c=0.
But the reasoning is suggestive.
There is value to God in remaining hidden, in allowing the world to continue along as though God did not exist, at least at the macroscopic level. This might be how to maximize God's "return" on the universe.
In individual cases, of course, this does not preclue Divine intervention as appropriate. God might choose to give a person of weaker faith a little more help, while a person of stronger faith can withstand a stronger test. The Talmud certainly suggests this in the adage that God, at least in the Bible, does not subject a person to a trial unless God knows that the individual has the inner strength to emerge successfully. But such a thumb on the scales of destiny must be used sparingly, lest it betray the Divine presence and shift c noticeably towards positive ground.
And it does not preclude Divine revelation (at Sinai, for instance) to get the ball rolling, as it were.
To recap: A hidden God may result in the right balance of number of mitzvot and value of mitzvot. This could explain theodicy, and also would explain why "If God exists, why wouldn't God make God's existence known?"
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-17 08:06 pm (UTC)Only partway through, but a point: my kids have trouble following the rules of a proveable parent. Right in my (re)prove(ing) presence, no less.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-17 08:12 pm (UTC)Well. It explains statistical theodicy, but isn't much help in any individual's case. Nor does it explain the value of testing at all.
But the hardest problem of theodicy happens before all that: why would G-d want anything of us at all? (Which has to be answered before asking why mitzvah-doers suffer.) Well, so we can perfect ourselves. But why create us imperfect? Or heck, why create anything? That implies a lack in the perfection of the Godhead.