Larry, I'm afraid I find all these efforts to say exactly what God can or can't do, will or won't do, rather presumptuous. I think humility before the awesome mystery of life and creation is more appropriate--as I argued in the the first of my "Strengthening Reform" series.

ps Mikol melamdei... is from the Psalms, not Avot.

To be fair, citation wasn't born for the internet, and the UACH press edition of Pirkei Avot gives the biblical references in 4:1 right there in the translation. :)

What a fascinating and, at times, difficult discussion! I am reminded of Alexander Pope: "an honest God is the noblest work of man."

But this thread, on the nature of God (or perhaps better reflected: on God's nature) is at the heart of this Bat Yisrael, this Jew who struggles with God. As I recite the morning prayers, I pause when I get to "she'asani b'tzelem Elohim." I love that particular prayer, its power and command. I choose to interpret that prayer as a call to reach higher, do better. I think of the attributes given to God: compassion and mercy and justice and love. I interpret this morning prayer as a command to practice these things, as a call to be a better Jew, a better human being.

But.

And there is always a but, isn't there? I struggle with my own interpretation, this modern re-telling of God's nature. Where do I see evidence of God's love and compassion in the Torah? I challenge myself, I challenge my 7th grade Sunday School student to find evidence of this in the Torah.

I think about the stories of Noah, Sodom and Gamorrah. The sacrifice of Isaac. Even of Moses, who stumbled once--- and was then denied access to the Promised Land. So I think of God's capriciousness and cruelty, jealousy and unbending rage.

Surely, many of the Prophets later talk of God's love of justice, God's compassion and ability to forgive. And there is Pesach: we were redeemed by God for no other reason that we were suffering and God sought to relieve that.

I think of the prayers we say and chant and sing. They are filled with the awe and majesty of God, resonate with the attributes we would all ascribe to a loving God. And I am convinced they are written, not as a testament, not as evidence of God's adherence to them.

No, they are set in prayer as reminders to God. "Hey God," they seem to say, "remember your promise, remember our contract. We are your people, and you require of us certain stuff. Well, guess what? You're our God, and we have some requirements, too." Perhaps simplicstic, and I don't mean to be presumptuous. But I can't imagine that God would not expect that of us. If Abraham could bargain with God for the salvation of Sodom and Gamorrah, why would we not have the same rights: to bargain, to demand, to teach?

I am troubled by the implication in Mr. Brill's comment that God's cosmic nature precludes discussion. His position would seem to eliminate the study of religion, not just the study of Judaism and Reform Judaism.

Ny attempt to react to the interview with Rabbi Bloom was intended as a respectful disagreement with the anthropomorphism that the article projected. I can't speak for Ms. Robinson or for Dr. Berkson, but I infer from their statements that they too are rejecting anthropomorphism. However, none of us can deny that it pervades the presentation of God in the Pentateuch.

Is Mr. Brill suggesting that Reform Judaism Magazine erred in publishing this interview? Or that Rabbi Bloom is not entitled to hold and write about or talk about his own concepts? Or merely that those of us who chose to express our own opinions are unduly chutzpadik?

One of the glories of Reform Judaism as we know it today is its open-ness to a variety of ideas about God, ethics, ritual, and their place in our lives. One of the glories of the Union for Reform Judaism is that it gives a voice to laity and facilitates our open discussion with clergy and other professionals.

I believe that God's cosmic nature,demands rather than precludes this discussion.

It seems to me that the God described in Rabbi Bloom's article has the personality of a spoiled adolescent. It created us and our environment out of boredom, punishes us out of pique and has abandoned us because we haven't met its expectations. I fail to see what there is in this entity to praise or worship. I don't need a father figure to worship. A good neighbor who treats me with mutual respect and consideration would be nice.

In regard to the article "What God Can Learn from Us" I have some things to say, although I am sure it won't be as eloquent or articulate as other readers' comments. I don't believe that God is flawed. I believe that God is perfect, and that humans cannot and do not have the capacity for fully understanding God's thoughts and ways. I believe that for me, I prefer to respond to what God is doing in my life, rather than make expectations of God that He should respond to what I expect of Him. I find it bizarre that a rabbi would write such an article. It might have been easier for me to accept this perspective from a non-rabbi. I do not see how Rabbi Bloom intends on helping others strengthen their faith in God, especially one purported to be in as much psychological need as people. I do think that God created people in order to love us and for us to each seek out a relationship with Him, for his pleasure as well as our own. I believe that God must be bigger than our issues, problems, perspective, thoughts, expectations, understanding, and human definition, or He would not be God. While each person is entitled to his or her own opinion, I would caution that a rabbi's viewpoint carries more impact (especially in a Jewish publication) than a non-rabbi in facilitating a person's faith in God. At least that is my assumption regarding the role of a rabbi. A god who behaves as dysfunctionally as people do is not worthy of worship, much less faith. God is worthy of worship. I respectfully disagree with the content of Rabbi Bloom's article (in a Jewish publication rather than in a Psychology publication no less), and am put off my his spiritual arrogance.