Eikev (Deuteronomy 7 - 11) GOOD MORNING! A few months ago, I taught a class on what is known as Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles of Faith. In that class I delved into Maimonides’ rather remarkable conclusion that a person isn’t obligated to believe in God – rather he is obligated in knowing there is a God. There is a huge distinction between believing something and knowing something. Judaism isn’t a religion based on faith; it’s a collection of tenets that we are obligated to know and accept to fulfill. After the class a young man sidled up to me, leaned in, and whispered, almost self-consciously; “Rabbi how do you know there is a God?” I explained to him that my knowledge of God wasn’t going to help him. We are individually obligated to experience the Divine and through that experience we come to knowledge. We must each take our own journey, and the road is often vastly different from one person to another. I have heard many personal stories describing different individual “eureka” moments; the miracle of childbirth, an incredibly moving experience at a National Park, and an intense meditative experience, to name a few. A couple of weeks ago I was trying to explain this concept to a person with whom I have become quite close over the last several years. This man is in his late eighties and has achieved professional and material success. However, this idea, that a person has to know that there is a God, did not sit well with him. He had grown up in Williamsburg, NY, and received a fine Jewish education. But he never internally reconciled whether he actually “believed in God.” He was not at all satisfied with my approach. With some frustration he told me, “Rabbi, I am a scientist. If you cannot prove to me the existence of God, then I cannot know there is a God!” I explained to him that his assertion simply wasn’t true. “Over the last 30 years of teaching I have made many rational arguments for the absolute existence of God – ontological, teleological, cosmological etc. – but no student ever subsequently stood up and exclaimed, ‘Oh wow, I get it. NOW, I believe!’ In my experience, true knowledge doesn’t come from what you learn – it comes from what you experience.” I then asked my friend, “Tell me, how do you know that your mother loved you? Do you know for a fact that your wife loved you?” He answered, “Of course!” I told him to prove it to me. He said, “Well, they told me that they did.” I replied, “That’s not proof. They may have had ulterior motives for saying that to you, and moreover, them telling that to you is certainly not a proof for me.” I continued, “The way you know, to your very core, that they loved you is that you experienced their love. I have no doubt that it is true, but there is no way for you can prove it to me. You cannot give me that experience. You can share information that may, or may not, indicate it to me, but that’s not scientific proof. Still, you absolutely know it to be true.” This is the nature of the type of knowledge with which we are obligated to know there is a God. The real issue is that very few people try to experience the Divine and even when they do, they often do their very best to immediately forget it. This is because real knowledge of God comes with obligations, and no one likes the feeling of owing. It’s also the reason that few people try experiencing it in the first place. It’s important to understand that this knowledge is not intellectual, it’s what you know to be true in your heart. That’s why King David wrote, “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God’” (Psalms 14:1) and in the very next verse he says, “From heaven the Almighty gazed down to see if there exists a reflective man who seeks out God” (Ibid 14:2). Knowledge of God begins with a search for God. There is a well-known story about Rabbi Yaakov Yitzchak Horowitz (1745-1815) aka the Chozeh of Lublin – the famous “Seer of Lublin.” As a child, he enjoyed spending long periods of time alone wandering the forests surrounding his village. When his father asked him why, he answered, “I go there to find God.” His father then asked, “But haven’t I taught you that God is the same everywhere?” “Yes, God is the same,” his son answered, “But I am not.” This search for the Almighty begins with the understanding and awareness that we are constantly in His presence. This is not easy to accomplish, because, as humans, we really don’t want that pressure – we just want to do what we want to do. It reminds me of the time I spent a weekend with a newly married friend of mine who had been a bachelor until middle age. Over lunch we got to talking and he wanted to make a comment about his new wife, but before doing so he turned to look over both his shoulders to make sure she wasn’t in earshot. I looked at him and said, “Wow, you’re really married now!” We often treat God the same way, hoping that we can hide, or that He isn’t “paying attention.” I often hear from students, “Why does God care if I do this or that?” This willful disconnect exactly mirrors Adam’s reaction after he sinned from the Tree of Knowledge. We find in the Torah that he actually tried to “hide” from the Almighty (Genesis 3:10). One of the most consequential verses in the entire Torah appears in this week’s Torah portion, and is directly related to this discussion: “And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to be in awe of the Lord, your God […]” (Deuteronomy 10:12). | 
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