“The God who is hidden” is the opening line of the famous piyyut “El Mistater,” a liturgical poem written in 1550 in Safed by Rabbi Avraham Maimin. It is a foundational prayer in many Sephardic communities. I grew up hearing this song as the opening for Baqqashot, a Sephardic musical ritual sung in synagogue on Shabbat during the winter months. To me, it was a call to reflect on the mysterious nature of God and to seek the Divine in life.

Over the years, however, as I immersed myself in various Jewish communities, I began to feel that God is often hidden in our synagogues. The word “God” can feel taboo, even charged. In many circles, we embrace community, law and ritual — but God? Sometimes it seems to push people too far.

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But what does it mean to build a religious life in which God is hidden? Is it even possible? For me, leading a Jewish life without God felt like an oxymoron. For most of Jewish history, God was at the center of religious life. Today, however, that center often feels empty or hidden.

When I first began teaching about God in Jewish communities, it felt risky. Would people accept me? Was I being too bold? But instead of resistance, I felt relief — so many were drawn to the work precisely because I spoke openly about the Divine.

During my time in the inaugural cohort of Abrahamic House, a social-change incubator that brings people of different faiths together, I experienced this even more vividly. Connecting with Christians, Muslims and people of other traditions showed me that my Jewishness actually roots me more deeply in the Oneness of reality. From that place, interfaith connection felt not only possible, but natural.

Christians speak of God easily — “Glory to God,” “Praise the Lord.” Muslims proclaim “Allahu Akbar,” God is the greatest. So why is it that many Jews I encounter, particularly non-Orthodox Jews, so often hesitate to fully claim our God?

I developed a program called God Fellowship, a 12-week immersive journey that guides people in cultivating a personal relationship with God. Not an abstract idea of God, and not a patriarchal figure in the sky who judges or shames us; for many, those inherited images have created disconnection from life and a feeling of being controlled by others.

But the real God — a living, dynamic being — is inviting us into relationship.

Many young Jews have been drawn to this program because the mainstream Jewish world has not fully given them the tools to connect with God. Hebrew school, bar and bat mitzvah preparation, even synagogue attendance — these can offer tradition and community, but often stop short of teaching how to live a life rooted in direct spiritual connection.

I’ve found that many still carry trauma and pain around the word “God.” Even when there is a magnetic pull to explore the Divine, there is often apprehension as well. In teaching about God, I have found that framing the Divine in accessible ways helps people encounter and experience God more fully.

God as Creator

Creation is not a single event in the distant past — it is an ongoing cycle with no true beginning or end. Every moment of life, every breath, every act of creativity, is part of this continuous unfolding. In this sense, we are both creations of God and co-creators of our reality. The choices we make, the love we give, the ways we shape the world—they are all expressions of this divine partnership. This dynamic dance between Creator and creation lies at the heart of spiritual practice. Our relationship with the Creator is mirrored in the rhythms of our lives, in how we nurture, protect and participate in the world around us. Genesis begins with the creation story for a reason: to remind us that the universe itself is sacred, and to teach that human life is inseparable from the ongoing work of creation. Much of Jewish mysticism dwells on creation as a living process, a mirror of divine energy. What would change if, whenever we hear the word “God,” we also hear “Creator”? How might our understanding of life—and our role in it—shift if we saw ourselves as active participants in the unfolding of creation?

God as Wisdom

God can also be understood as the intelligence woven throughout life itself. Every atom, every cell, every pattern in nature carries a kind of wisdom, a language of the universe waiting to be read. Our bodies, the ecosystems around us, the laws of physics and the cosmos — all reflect a vast, intricate intelligence. This is the domain of science, philosophy and deep contemplation: seeking to understand the order, the meaning and the wisdom inherent in reality. To connect with God as wisdom is to recognize that life itself teaches us that the world is not chaotic but intelligible and that, by observing, learning and listening, we are in dialogue with the Divine. God, in this sense, is a living presence, guiding life with insight and offering direction to those who are attentive to the world’s subtle cues.

God as Love

God can also be experienced as love — a creative, connective force that binds all of life together. Love is the energy that sustains relationships, communities and ecosystems; it is what allows life to flourish. When we experience God as Love, we see that the Divine is not separate from the world, but flows through it, animating connection, empathy and compassion. God as love reminds us that we are never alone, that our actions ripple outward and that even small acts of kindness are part of a larger, sacred web. To recognize God in this way is to see the sacred potential in every human interaction, every encounter with the natural world and every act of creation.

God as Mystery

Finally, God is mystery. God cannot be fully known, defined, or contained. Mystery invites awe, wonder and curiosity. It reminds us that life itself is larger than our understanding and that the Divine extends beyond our concepts and categories. Embracing God as mystery allows us to hold the unknown with reverence rather than fear, to approach the world with openness and to cultivate a lifelong practice of learning and exploration. Mystery is the invitation to be humble before the vastness of existence, to celebrate the questions as much as the answers and to allow ourselves to be continually transformed by what we encounter.

In the part of Spain known as Andalus, Sephardic Jewish theology emphasized that to truly know God, we must first come to know the world. God may be infinite and beyond comprehension, yet this vastness does not exempt us from the responsibility — and the joy — of seeking Divine wisdom in our lives. The teachings suggest that the path to understanding the Divine is not only through prayer or ritual, but also through engagement with the world around us. Every encounter, every observation, every act of creation or study can become a doorway into the sacred. Because God can be found in everything — in the rhythm of the seasons, the complexity of the human body, the patterns of the stars, the harmony of music — every field of knowledge is, in essence, a spiritual practice. From the precision of science, to the imagination of art, to the structural beauty of architecture, to the healing wisdom of herbalism, each discipline offers a lens through which we can perceive the Divine intelligence and Presence at work. The more we learn about life and the world we inhabit, the more deeply we can know God. To cultivate a relationship with the Divine is, in this light, to cultivate a profound intimacy and reverence with all of life: to notice its intricacies, to honor its rhythms, to participate consciously in its unfolding. Knowledge, curiosity and attention to the world are not merely intellectual exercises — they are acts of devotion, practices that draw us closer to the living presence of God in every moment.

God is here. We should strive to put ourselves into a relationship with God. This relationship is our original connection to the Divine. This relationship is then reflected and mirrored throughout the world, in the people we meet, the life we live and the choices we make. Every encounter and experience is an opportunity to recognize and engage with the Divine presence. 

During the God Fellowship that I direct, I pose the question to my students: What might change in our lives, in our communities and in our spiritual practice if we truly placed God at the center? How would our awareness, our actions and our understanding of the world shift if this relationship were not peripheral, but central to everything we do? 

I would encourage more Jews to ask themselves these questions as well.

A 10th-generation Jerusalemite with roots also in Syria, Kurdistan, Iraq and Iran, Hadar Cohen is an Arab Jewish scholar, mystic and artist whose work focuses on multi-religious spirituality, politics, social issues and community building. Cohen is the founder of Malchut, a spiritual skill-building school, and is a contributor to the “Spiritual Innovation Blog” of the Clergy Leadership Incubator, a two-year leadership fellowship for rabbis directed by Rabbi Sid Schwarz.