God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism (review)

Books are alike only in that they contain writings bound in some fashion, usually nowadays in hard or soft cover. Beyond that, they come in every variety—essay or poetry collection, scholarly study, literary or popular fiction. In quality, the writing may be lyrical or persuasive, or it may lack grace and coherence, character development, or verisimilitude. That is why it is so basic to determine first the genre of a book, that it may be judged for what it tries to do and not for what the reviewer wanted the author to do. And, partial as I am to the reading and writing of theology, that was my first task in thinking about Heschel’s God in Search of Man.

This book is indeed rich in theology, and its themes, enunciated in that striking title God in Search of Man, do capture Heschel’s theology well: that God loves humans and that for some strange reason he seeks them out, makes covenants with them, bestows blessings upon them, and holds them as the apple of his eye. These themes are so grounded in the scriptures that one can hardly disagree, unless one is a deist or something of that ilk. But this is not a theology book; it develops no new argument and presents no theological thesis for discussion or debate.

In genre God in Search of Man is a book of meditations. The term “philosophy” in the subtitle means not systematic analysis but love of wisdom, the wisdom of the scriptures and the tradition. I am familiar with books of this kind from my Roman Catholic upbringing and seminary training. Early each morning in the seminary, beginning at 5:40 AM, we would meditate for twenty minutes in silence. As a focus for our meditation, we were directed to use meditation manuals, some better than others. The genre continues, perhaps exemplified by Kathleen Norris’ Amazing Grace, which contains a series of thought-provoking passages on faith and life, each taking up but a few brief pages. The point was never to read the meditations so as to memorize their content or learn something not heretofore known. Norris’ book and others of this kind are meant to trigger meditative thought and quietude. In seminary we meditated on specific scripture texts or scenes, wherein we were to focus on truths so large they could hardly be contained in ordinary words.

Such I find Heschel’s book to be. He writes as himself a prophet, announcing the scriptural word. He weaves texts and observations. He triggers things in the reader’s consciousness that have been perhaps forgotten or overlooked. And his words can be read only slowly, passage by passage, with no hurry and no need to do aught but sit quietly and imbibe his sense of the Lord who encompasses us all and the life he seeks to bestow upon us. There is no reviewing Heschel’s God in Search of Man. Of all the postmodern quips, of this volume it is particularly true to say that the text reads us; it reviews our lives and how we live them, all of us within the Abrahamic covenant. Heschel’s language is so rich that one can of a morning stop after reading only a sentence or two and call it enough, for the eloquence of his diction catches one and fixes the mind in focused concentration on a particular text or biblical theme.

And so I keep the book by my bedside that I might read a portion every morning. No longer do I arise as early as I used to, and sometimes I rise only begrudgingly. But then there is Heschel waiting, usually with some theme that not only comforts but also awakens depths of prayer and meditation in response to God’s searching.

I remember the older meditation manuals of my youth—St. Francis de Sales’ Introduction to the Devout Life, Thomas à Kempis’ Imitation of Christ, and a host of others...