The Whole Shebang?

David Brooks and I couldn't be more different

Question: I am preoccupied with David Brooks’ New York Times essay, The Shock of Faith (https://www.nytimes.com/2024/12/19/opinion/faith-god-christianity.html), in which he leaves Judaism for Christianity. Doesn’t this trouble you?

Every December, the media features articles by conflicted Jews who feel drawn to Jesus. However, David Brooks is not among them. He is a Christian of Jewish heritage who “entered the church in 2013.” His essay is a personal spiritual narrative that deserves serious consideration.

David’s first spiritual insight came while riding the subway. He realized “that if people had souls, maybe there was a soul-giver. Once you accept that there is a spiritual element in each person, it is a short leap to the idea that there is a spiritual element in the universe as a whole.”

An epiphany that begins with “if” is weak and becomes weaker still when followed by “maybe.” Furthermore, I wonder how David transitions from “if” to “accept.” Unfortunately, he doesn’t provide that information.

I’m not drawn to the idea of individual souls or a soul-giver, yet even if there is “a spiritual element in each person,” why does that imply “there is a spiritual element in the universe as a whole,” given that people are merely an infinitesimal speck in the cosmos? David doesn’t deal with this issue either. Instead, he shares another insight that comes to him while contemplating the majesty of the Colorado Rocky Mountains.

“Because I’m me,” David Brooks writes, “I had books in my backpack, including a volume of Puritan prayers.” He opened to this passage: “Hemmed in by mountains of sin, I behold thy glory.”

I, too, have been awed by the Colorado Rockies. Because I’m me, I didn’t have a volume of Puritan prayers with me. Instead, I recited the opening verse of Psalm 121:

Esah enai el heh-harim, may-AYIN ya-vo ezrei. Ezrei may-im YHVH oseh shamaym va-aretz.

“I lift my eyes to the mountains. My help flows from Ayin, the infinite and ineffable YHVH happening as all reality.”

The standard translation of this verse reads,

“I lift my eyes to the mountains. From where (may-ayin) will my help come? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.”

My translation interprets the Hebrew may-ayin as “from Ayin,” from the Absolute No-Thing we experience as YHVH, the One happening as everything. While David and I gazed at the same mountains, our experiences could not have been more different. Where he, a Christian, was hemmed in by sin, I, a Jew, was enveloped by God.

David bridges this gap by writing, “I’m enchanted by Judaism and Christianity. I assent to the whole shebang.” However, he does so as a Christian because he “can’t unread Matthew” and perceives a unique “celestial grandeur” in the Beatitudes.

I, too, can’t unread Matthew, especially the passages where Jews are described as “snakes and vipers, who cannot escape being sentenced to hell” (Matthew 23:31-33), and where the Jewish people, rather than Pontius Pilate, are blamed for Jesus’ death: “His blood be on us and our children” (Matthew 27:25), a verse the Church has used to justify centuries of antisemitic violence. While I also recognize the grandeur of the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-12), I don’t view it as “celestial,” but instead as Jesus’ manifesto urging a peasant revolt of persecuted Jews against their Roman and Jewish oppressors.

And what does David Brooks mean by “the whole shebang”? Judaism and Christianity are fundamentally incompatible.

Judaism teaches that every individual has the inherent ability to “turn from evil and do good” (Psalm 34:14) and can, therefore, return to God without needing an intermediary. In contrast, Christianity posits the exact opposite: access to God is only possible through Jesus Christ (John 14:6). If Christianity is true, then Judaism must be false. Conversely, if Judaism is true, then, as Paul stated in Galatians 2:21, “Christ died in vain.” There is no whole shebang, just two religions, each deserving its due.

I’m glad David Brooks has found a spiritual home in Christianity, although I’m puzzled by his statement, “Today I feel more Jewish than ever.” I just wish the New York Times would publish essays by Christian mystics like Cynthia Bourgeault or Matthew Fox, who could delve more profoundly into spiritual matters.