Jon Gosselin, God and me

By Benyamin Cohen

Public opinion of Jon Gosselin likely lies somewhere between Osama Bin Laden and Glenn Beck. And that's understandable. As one-tenth of the wildly popular reality-show Jon and Kate Plus Eight, Gosselin was (perhaps rightfully) accused of exploiting his children for financial gain. Rumors of infidelity, embarrassing photos, and all-around immature behavior this summer led to the crumbling of his marriage (and his beloved television show) much to the schadenfreude delight of US Weekly readers everywhere. (To be fair, Kate wasn't the paragon of perfection either.)

His quick rise and inevitable, subsequent fall saturated the media for months. He was lampooned, disdained, and quickly became a national joke. Welcome to America.

But then something unexpected happened. Jon Gosselin found God. Well, sort of.

Earlier this month, Gosselin held a public event (all right, I admit, he's got a problem) to talk about his very private problems. Adding to the surreal nature of the evening was the fact that it was held in a synagogue and moderated by Rabbi Shmuley Boteach. Gosselin, I should point out, is about as Jewish as Mel Gibson in a skullcap.

For those not familiar, Rabbi Shmuley Boteach (who calls himself "America's Rabbi") is the Al Sharpton of Judaism. And I mean that as a compliment. If you've seen a rabbinic pundit on TV, most likely you were looking into the searing eyes of Rabbi Shmuley. Whether on Oprah, Good Morning America, Fox News, or Dateline, you'll see Shmuley, Zelig-like, masterfully inserting himself into any situation. Hurricane Katrina? There he was standing side-by-side with New Orleans refugees. The downward spiral of Britney Spears' career and marriage? There's Shmuley. (After all, he did author the salaciously titled book "Kosher Sex".) But what will forever be digitally enshrined on Shmuley's Wikipedia tombstone is that, for a time, he was Michael Jackson's rabbi. (In the months since the King of Pop's death, Shmuley has written a tell-all book about their relationship.) Whatever the crisis, the proverbial ambulance chaser of cable channel punditry known as Brand Shmuley is there to preach the moral high ground.

Boteach, himself the father of nine and no stranger to celebrity, is an obvious choice to fill the role of Gosselin's spiritual guru. But what's not as obvious is what motivated Gosselin to try and redeem himself not by the typical response we've come to know and love in today's society (say, with a book deal or a new reality show), but by reaching out to a member of the cloth and, I believe, honestly seeking help.

This meeting of the dynamic duo, which TMZ eloquently called "Torah and the Camera-Whorah", was mocked by many. Blogs couldn't decide who was working harder to stretch their 15 minutes of fame. I, for one, choose to look at it differently.

I know what it's like to seek spiritual guidance from a member of the clergy outside that of my own faith. For decades, mired in a virtual abyss of seemingly arcane laws, I felt uninspired by my Orthodox Judaism. In my own twisted version of a reality show experiment, I decided to take a look at the church across the street. As well as 51 other churches. For an entire year, I spent every Sunday with a different Christian denomination, hoping beyond hope to find the cure to my spiritual apathy.

And I found it.

Not from Rabbi Shmuley, but from outside my religion. From the Baptists and their rousing gospel choirs, I learned to enjoy services more. From the 48 Trappist monks in Central Georgia, I learned to turn off my iPhone and seek serenity. From the Episcopalians, I learned to appreciate the ancient rituals - of both their faith and that of my own. From my Christian in-laws (I'm the son of a rabbi and I married a minister's daughter; long story), I learned grace. And on and on. At each stop of my church-hopping tour, it was the people representing the varied tapestry of American faith that opened my eyes to a renewed spiritual awakening.

And yet I am still a cynic. While I have gained a better appreciation for the faith of my ancestors, there are days when I still struggle to make it relevant. And, as for Jon Gosselin, well, there are days when I struggle to make him relevant, too.

But there is a part of me that admires Gosselin. In our society, we are surrounded by those who opt for the easy way out, for shortcuts to fame (reality show contestants) or fortune (Bernie Madoff). But I'm always impressed by people who seek a higher spiritual plane, who opt to work hard - on themselves and on their own journey - to come closer to the divine.

I'm under no false pretenses that Jon Gosselin is the second coming ... of anything. But I do think we can look to him as an example (albeit a troubled one) of someone who is trying to climb out of the hole he dug for himself. At least he's making an effort. And he's realizing that finding answers from clergy - even if they're not your clergy - can lead one down to a path of redemption.

Benyamin Cohen is the author of "My Jesus Year: A Rabbi's Son Wanders the Bible Belt in Search of His Own Faith" and the content director for the Mother Nature Network.

By Benyamin Cohen |  November 12, 2009; 9:47 AM ET
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