I’m a Bill Maher fan. That’s not to say I agree with him on every issue, but he’s one of the few commentators committed to finding and speaking the truth, and he spares no one from his comedic censure, no matter their political affiliation. He’s not a lone voice in this regard. However, in today’s media landscape, unfortunately, more and more journalists practice activism as opposed to fact-driven reporting. As much as I respect Maher’s approach, in one of his recent monologues, he lost me on many levels.
When discussing conservatives’ reactions to the attempted Trump assassination, Maher went off the rails. “When you try and kill God’s angels and saviors of the world, it only makes them bigger,” Maher wryly quoted boxing star Jake Paul. “Which sounds like something a guy who gets hit in the head for a living would say,” Maher quipped. “Steve Scalise said, ‘Yesterday there were miracles, and I think the hand of God was there too.’ Steve was also shot but [apparently] God was having an off day,” was another of Maher’s jabs.
I agree with Maher’s main point: Trump is not the “Lord’s anointed.” He’s no different from the rest of us, and no one should be elevated to such a cultish level. But where I disagree with Maher is his outright attack on all God-language.
It appears that Maher is uncomfortable describing the world in any religious terms. Since he’s an atheist, that’s to be expected. However, the majority of the world speaks this way. It helps us understand the world, even when the language is contradictory.
Let’s look at the matter from a different angle. I’m a die-hard surfing fan. I watch all of the World Surfing League competitions online. Sometimes, I’ll stay up until all hours of the morning for a glimpse of my favorite surfers. Inevitably, some of the competitors will thank God in their post-heat interviews. “I want to thank God for helping me win today,” is a constant refrain. When I hear such a statement, I usually ask myself the same question as Maher: “Where was God when it came to your opponent?”
Granted, this initial statement is theologically problematic. We don’t believe that God was “on the side” of the victor and against the loser. This fallacy is even clearer regarding the Trump assassination attempt. God’s love for Donald Trump is not greater than his love for the heroic firefighter who lost his life in the crossfire. What Maher is missing, though, is that this is common parlance for both religious and non-religious people.
There are numerous examples of even the most irreligious people referencing God in their everyday speech. “Thank God, I didn’t get into an accident.” “Someone was looking out for me that day.” The list of such phrases goes on and on. Such statements are not meant to explain the cosmos.
The purpose of these statements is twofold: first, to give thanks for what feels like borrowed time, and second, to point out the inexplicable. Steve Scalise is a prime example of this. He knows firsthand that God doesn’t always protect people. His statement about Trump was not meant to explain God’s actions. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. His statement shows recognition of the inexplicable nature of the world.
To us, the universe seems random. This couldn’t be seen more clearly than at the Trump rally itself. Had Trump turned his head a millimeter less, or a millisecond later, he would not be alive today. And none of us know why this happened. But what’s most evident in Maher’s strong reaction is his disdain for Trump. If someone were to replace the former president with a beloved figure, they might not only tolerate, but even welcome, the God language.
What we can all agree on is that we can’t explain how the world works. Everyone would be happy if no one was injured or died by a gunman’s bullet on that day or any other day. But it’s a tragic reality we’re forced to live with.
Those of us who represent religion to the world must tread carefully when interpreting God’s presence in the world, particularly when describing individuals in leadership roles. Ascribing motives to God is a dangerous path that inevitably leads to false messiahs. The solution to this problem is not the complete erasure of God from our public discourse. It’s ensuring we speak responsibly.
The writer is a rabbi, a wedding officiant, and a mohel who performs britot (ritual circumcisions) and conversions in Israel and worldwide. Based in Efrat, he is the founder of Magen HaBrit, an organization protecting the practice of brit milah and the children who undergo it.