Getting To Know Me

The thought came to me on Yom Kippur, several years ago. It was during Neilah, the closing service; I was weary from nearly twenty four hours of fasting and saturated with all the confessionals of the day. I thought to myself in the midst of confessing one sin after the other in the final confession, most of which I had no idea I committed, that in our dualistic existence there must be a polar opposite of a sin. Yes, of course, I reasoned after a little reflection, it's a Mitzvah. What else could it be? If sins are those actions from which God asks us to refrain, then there must be actions He wants us to do, my mind continued. There can only be a choice of what's acceptable behavior and what's not. How could we possibly know?

After the final Shofar blasts, with my sins as white as lilies, I got in the car to start my drive home. I stopped at a traffic intersection and there cars were backed up for blocks due to a minor traffic accident. I was impatient to get home; I was famished. By the time the tow truck arrived, I was getting angrier for having to sit there and wait so long. I was now getting furious. I honked the horn and yelled at the police, the tow truck driver and the guy who drove carelessly, for causing the delay. It was then I remembered the line we just read, "for the sin that we have sinned before you through harsh speech".

I finally arrived home starved and unnerved. In consolation, I ate and drank everything in sight without reservation and again remembered "for the sin that we have sinned before you with food and drink" It seemed as if I was doomed to sin. I started to think back to the revelation I had during Neilah. If the Mitzvah is the only antidote to sin, how could we be doing Mitzvot all day long. It then occurred to me that the Torah commandments are not the spiritual acts we're led to believe, but the archetypal models for everyday behavior. They're like basic training for every action we do, moment by moment.

Once I realized the error of behaving impulsively I began to wonder what else I do that's inappropriate. It's really hard to know because my ego mind tries to rationalize all my iniquities. Many question arose. Would a Mitzvah counteract a sin now or would I have to wait until next year to confess again. I wondered if there are both small sins and big sins, or is a sin a sin? Is littering chewing gum wrappers as bad as stealing chewing gum? I don't know; only my conscience could tell me. What I do know is that the irreconcilable forces of sin and Mitzvah, provides us with a yardstick to measure if we are, indeed, fulfilling our purpose and destiny.

What I learned from this whole experience is that the spiritual part of Judaism takes place in our everyday activities, not in the synagogue. The early hassidic Rebbes, we're told, went out to the market place to find poor, hapless, distressed Jews in need of help and assistance. It is out there that we can choose whether to sin or not, but how could we know the right choice to make. It would take some kind of antennae, an oracle like the Urim V'Tumim of the High Priest's breastplate to intuit God's nod of approval. We can, with some practice, sensitize ourselves to pick up these messages either as the warm, loving aura of Mitzvah or the cold hostile feelings of sin. We know when it's right and we know when it's wrong; we don't need a book to tell us.

Jewish spirituality, quite different from the spiritual methods of the Eastern religions, yet equally effective, is built on the system of Mitzvot. The performance of mitzvot-- particularly those related to the Creation, the Exodus from Egypt, and the Tent in the Wilderness--reduces our reliance on ego, brings about healing, awakens us from from our fleeting, mundane activities and return us, once more, to that place of primal empowerment. We should rethink our image of Mitzvot, not as antiquated, meaningless rituals performed by our immigrant ancestors, but as the current trend of contemporary, enlightened Jews looking to reclaim their spiritually.

Finding God For Myself

Living a quaint rural town in southeastern Massachusetts, miles from the closest synagogue makes Torah study a bit more difficult. I searched for a means to learn without a chavruta, a study partner, and concurrently satisfy my longing for meaningful spiritual practice. I carefully considered several routes before selecting two paths that seemed the most pragmatic. Study ordinarily implies filling the mind with facts, with retaining information that might be useful at some later date. Many believe that Torah study is reserved for an elite few, for scholars, for rabbis or for the strictly observant. My learning is just the opposite; it's a spiritual practice aimed at making "korbonnot", coming closer to God. It's available to anyone who is willing to open the book and look at the text with a clear mind, one that's unencumbered with thoughts of the everyday world which can then become like a sponge, able to soak up the deeper meanings of the text.

I had been scouring through the text, for some months, for an access into the problem and then one day right before my very eyes I found the first of the two directions: God establishes a relationship with us through the narrative. To reach this conclusion, I had to juggle a few ideas that arose during the months of investigation. Human beings need a medium in which to communicate with God and the spiritual world. I reasoned that stories are constructed from elemental feelings and impulses common to a nation's corporate experiences and reflected on another level through their literature. The stories in Torah are just that bridge. If we can allow ourselves, even for a single study session, to walk in the sandals of the ancient Israelites, the stories become real. Torah is writtten in metaphors. Behind the metaphor lies its true meaning like the tale of the Golden Calf that came to represent our worldly cravings. There's a certain energetic charge that accompanies the discovery of personal meanings of metaphors for yourself.
It's not necessary to read through or have a command of the entire Pentateuch, the five books of Moses. This course of study performs well with any selection of the text: the weekly portion or any specific excerpt of your own choice. As I read through the chapters I felt as if God was talking, not only to the Israelites through Moses, but to me. I found that by studying the text, with special emphasis on how God exercises His will and shapes the cause of events directly or indirectly--I could learn to keep God before me at all times. These are some of the mental notes I kept in mind. God is the indisputable boss like when He uttered to Abram in Genesis 12:1, "Go forth from your native land and from your fathers house to the land that I will show you". God is the principle prophesy maker as in Genesis 15:13, when He said to Abram, "Know well that your offspring shall be strangers in a land not theirs (Egypt) and they shall be enslaved and oppressed four hundred years; but I will execute judgement on the nation and in the end they shall go free" Finally I was mindful how God's decisions actually materialized as summarized in Exodus 12:31 as Pharoah exclaimed, "Up, depart from among my people, you and the Israelites! go, worship the Lord as you said". Our relationship to the Creator is determined by our understanding of how the Torah text revolves around God, not the Patriarchs or the Israelites.

The other fork in the road led me to learn more about myself through the text, another route towards relating to God. Again I kept set of mental questions before me as I read through verse after verse. What is it about the story, a verse, a word that seems to resonate with some aspect of my life? Is there something about the story that rings a bell? Could I recall experiences in my life when I experienced something similar to this story? How would I describe the characters in the story? Who did I know who's like them? Could I identify with any one of the characters? Which one? How does God instigate action in my life? What does He want me to do?
I share this quest, particularly, for those who live far from a synagogue, who are distanced from Jewish life, who wish to pursue deeper meanings of Torah or who simply feel they don't have the time. When we make a spiritual discipline a priority, we miraculously find a way to get everything done. When we free up time to do the things that really feed our souls then we find the peace and happiness we seek.

Jewish Spirituality In A Nutshell (Part 2)

The great stumbling block in achieving Devekut reflects upon the understanding of exile, a kind of existential loneliness. Ever since the Israelite captivity in Babylonia, some three thousand years ago, exile came to be identified with distancing oneself or an entire nation from God. Today, our estrangement from God is defined by our attachment to external influences—material possessions and much of our self-centered behaviors. Jewish historical records go on to trace the hardships that had befallen the Jewish people for their disobedience to God’s commandments. The shame of the golden calf incident became the symbol of our ultimate exile; when enraged by that sinful deed, God threatened the total annihilation of the Israelites. Where are we today? How distant from God have we become? To answer that, you may just need to look around and perceive all the suffering, destruction and pain that we’re exposed to daily.

The return trip from exile is a process we call T’shuvah (from the Hebrew verb “to return”) is at the heart of Jewish spirituality. It is thought of as a process; it is not instantaneous, it takes place over time. T’shuvah, does not, as commonly believed, mean to refrain from consciously hurtful actions. The motivation for such actions lies rooted deeply in our subconscious; they are out of our conscious control. T’shuvah is the complete about-face from our present behavior patterns to one guided by Divine wisdom, the result of clinging to God. The process of T’shuvah is inaugurated at Rosh HaShanah, but the effort of turning towards God is meant to continue all year long. Through self-awareness exercises, which helps us to see ourselves more objectively, the process of turning inward is initiated.

Are contemporary synagogues capable of fostering spirituality? Despite much grumbling that synagogue services are often lifeless and uninspiring, they still offer us an environment in which to grow spiritually. Synagogues provide us with a community whose mere presence provides the means for strength and support for our prayers. Prayer, the leading Jewish spiritual practice arouses our hearts in praise of God; it inflames our innate aspect of love. Synagogues also provide us with rabbis and teachers under whose guidance we can receive deeper insight into the mitzvot and the teachings of the Torah.

Mitzvot and Torah are prayers of a different order. Any religious obligation that helps direct our attention to God is prayer. Rabbi Abraham Heshel’s statement comes to mind as he marched for civil rights from Selma to Montgomery and declared, “I’m praying with my feet”. Mitzvot, the Divine commandments require action by the physical body, like the holidays and Shabbat; while Torah narrative engages the mind on how God functions in the world. By integrating all three modalities prayer (emotions), mitzvot (action) and Torah (mind) we’re brought to a deeper understanding of the workings of spirit, and ultimately to union with the Divine Source. Yet, with this in mind, one urgent ingredient is still missing. We must learn to pay careful attention to everything our mind, body and emotions communicate to us. The kind of focusing—kavannah, in Hebrew— in prayer and in deeds momentarily nullifies our sense of self, and opens our perception to Divinity. It’s like a meditation on becoming aware of ourselves.

Spirituality requires a certain behavior pattern expected of people pursuing a spiritual path. As Jews seeking access to the spiritual realm, we must behave in a manner conducive to Jewish expectations. Even before opening a holy text, we must learn to act with humility, with compassion, with kindness, with trust, with generosity, with all the characteristics that define us as “b’tselim elohim”, created in the image of God. Jewish spirituality depends upon each individual’s penetrating, inner-directed exploration; it is more than merely the practice of Jewish customs. Spirituality is striving to integrate our body and mind with the spiritual dimension in order to align ourselves with the Source of Creation.
The End

Jewish Spirituality In A Nutshell (Part 1)

Generally speaking, spirituality is the awareness that an unseen spiritual world exists simultaneously with our everyday world of thoughts and feelings. This dimension of life generates the most significant values that mankind can attain—love, wisdom, healing, forgiveness, just to name a few. Religious traditions throughout human history always understood the need for making contact with the spiritual realm, but each culture’s style varies widely. Jewish spirituality is intimately tied into our tradition, and I know of no other spiritual practice as potent as Judaism for the Western sensibility.

How can modern Jews live today’s pace, go through the mechanics of raising a family, attend to the pressures of the workplace and yet find time and energy to pursue spirituality in their lives? The present ultra-orthodox style of living in ghetto-like communities originated by necessity in the European countries in which they were forced to take refuge. Certain laws of the Torah made it necessary for everyone to reside close to one another; these people found joy and warmth and satisfaction from living in close proximity to each other. They not only lived among each other, but they followed the same dress code, ate the same foods and spoke the same language, all to remain distinct from the outlying community. Their spirituality came from clinging to God in every feasible moment. But is it possible for us, living in the 21st Century, in an ultra-technocratic society where change happens faster than we can keep up with it, to establish some level of spirituality.

The ultimate objective of Jewish spirituality is a kind of Divine perception that Jewish mystics have struggled towards for many centuries. They labeled it “Devekut”—the union with God. This kind of enlightenment doesn’t take place with blinding flashes of insight. It’s nature is to experience God in all our daily activities. It’s meaning is encapsulated from the verse from psalm 140 “Shviti I stand before God at all times”, and its origin lies in the spring festival of Pesach. In the stories surrounding the redemption, we find the stiff-necked nation of Israel enslaved, to the taskmasters of Egypt, for nearly 400 years. They preferred the hardships of Egypt to the great unknown of liberation. You and I follow similar paths. It takes many plagues to dislodge us from our captivity to the world of matter and concepts. After God redeemed the Israelites with an outstretched arm, the people journeyed for the next forty years toward the land of Canaan, the Promised Land. Egypt is our exile; the road to Canaan symbolizes our Devekut.
To be continued...

A Jewish spiritual life

At one time I thought that the Hasidim lived the way of my dreams; somehow their garb seemed indicative of holiness. But later on, I found that theirs was no different than any other orthodox sect, who live more by the letter of the law than by its spirit. I also thought that guru-types, modern day mystics or new age priests were holy people, just to find out that most are still keeping their psychotherapy appointments. I think the shock of all these delusions pointed the way to realizing that Jewish tradition itself holds, within it, the keys to successful Jewish spirituality.

On one hand, many of us seek a certain level of spirituality in our lives. Why not, after all, Judaism, with its holy Temple and the its priestly caste, was built on a spiritual foundation. Yet on the other hand, many Jews are fascinated by the exotic religions of the Far East. What could Judaism hold in store that would rival the esoterica of Asian cultures?

Retreats are not necessarily a Jewish thing; Shabbat is our retreat in time, but sometimes it is helpful to a live for a few days under in an insulated environment, away from daily distractions, to get a sense of what it means to live spiritually. We were under the tutelage of several high-powered, spiritually evolved rabbis who functioned as our spiritual mentors for those days.

They taught that to live spiritually is to confront the stronghold of our tradition with a little stretch of our mental abilities. This extra step is what's defined in the Talmud as "directing the heart", a gesture which means approaching every action with a clear intention or attention. In Hebrew it's called "kavannah", without it, every act we do, whether religious or not, loses meaning; it is acting unconsciously.

While the Eastern religions preach the contemplative aspects of life, Judaism finds its spirituality and connection to God in the ordinary events of every day life. We find ours in the workplace, in the supermarket and in the home. I would be inclined to say that Jewish spiritual life rests on a foundation of three pillars: community, sacred actions (Mitzvot), and ordinary everyday activities. It's ironical that the very features of traditional Judaism that seems so foreign contain the very conditions that bring us closer to God. It's like having an oil well in your backyard without even knowing it.

The Jewish concept of soul

Judaism teaches that man has a soul – a consciousness that exists independently of the physical body and brain. This belief has broad implications. For one it means that there is an afterlife and there are future lives – reincarnation. More than that, the human soul distinguishes man from the souls of the animal worlds and from inanimate objects. We are not biochemical robots; bodies filled with water, proteins, and nucleic acids. We are not merely a superficial shell. We possess a divine spark, which God has breathed into us. This is our true essence.

The soul is the secret to living a joyous life. Our soul constantly craves a return to its Divine roots, so that prayer, mitzvot, and Torah study nurtures souls longing for return to its source. Therefore, when we study a few verses of Torah we are directing our attention to our souls rather than to our daily lives. Our everyday Jewish practices determine whether we live in a state of happiness or of misery, depending on the condition of the soul.

According to Jewish thought, the soul consists of three levels: Nefesh, Ruach, and Neshamah. The Nefesh refers to the person, to our physical existence. The words Ruach and Neshamah both mean "breath” in the sense of the soul being an ethereal, spiritual essence, and they are the aspects that continue living even after death, they are our immortality. The outcome of our mundane happiness depends upon the balance between Nefesh and our spiritual essence; our traditional Jewish practices attempt to orchestrate that state of equilibrium.

Although Judaism concentrates its efforts on this temporal world (Olam Ha'zeh — "this world"), classical Judaism speculates an afterlife. Jewish tradition affirms that the human soul is immortal and thus survives the physical death of the body into the Hereafter, known as Olam Haba (the "world to come").

For further information click on the title of this post to go to the Jewish healing website

Healing

I have written in many places, at many times that healing of mind, body, and spirit is dependent upon a spiritual relationship with the Holy One Blessed is He. This connection is based upon the Jewish practices of Torah, mitzvot and prayer. I know to many this sounds like an archaic way of life, but this is Jewish spiritual practice. It's been like this for centuries.
Jewish spirituality has a lot to do with fixing things that went wrong. The Kabbalah, for example, presents us with the theory of Tikkun Olam (the rectification of the universe) to deal with the mechanics of repair. Through Jewish tradition, we can fix what went wrong with our bodies, our emotions, and our minds. This may sound a bit fantastic or oversimplified, but it has proven its efficacy. All we need to do is get into our spiritual space. Healers know that spirituality and healing are interchangeable terms. If you wanted to heal some aspect of your life, you would have to encounter your spiritual self, where we encounter God.
Unfortunately many of us drift to other traditions like Yoga or Buddhism to seek spirituality and healing, but Judaism is just as effective as any other seemingly exotic tradition. You'll be hearing more about this.

For further information click on the title of this post to go to the Jewish healing website

Our imagination

Man is the only species of God’s creation blessed with the power of the imagination, a faculty that we utilize for physical survival and spiritual growth. Judaism bases so much of its authority on imaginative scenes. Take for example the well-known prescription in the Passover Haggadah when we’re told that “in every generation each individual is bound to consider himself as if he personally had gone forth out of Egypt”. The use of imagination in Jewish literature is limitless. In the synagogue we do a lot of ‘standing up and sitting down’. We stand primarily when the ark is opened, in order to experience ourselves in a spiritually elevated state. The mussaf (the additional service of Shabbat and each of the three Festivals) visually describes the scene of the sacrificial ritual assigned to that particular day. This list can go on and on, but it shouldn’t take much thought on your part to come up with lots more.

The use of imagination in Jewish heritage is so far-reaching that it would be difficult to find important aspects of Jewish tradition where the imaginative mind does not come into play. It is widely accepted that the Prophets relied upon their imaginative faculty to receive God’s messages for His people. It’s not a coincidence that each Prophet’s teaching is similar to the others, only the language differed as the mind pictures of each Prophet varied.

For further information click on the title of this post to go to the Jewish healing website

The Shviti

Central to all of Jewish spirituality is the following quote from the Book of Psalms: “I place God before me always”. (Psalm 145:18).

Plaques, such as the one above, were always to be found somewhere on the bima of old orthodox synagogues with the phrase in Hebrew: Shviti adonai knegdi tamid, hence the title “the Shviti.” They were there back then to remind the congregation to keep God before them at all times. Framed Shviti commemorative inscriptions are now available online to frame and hang in a prominent place in the home as a constant reminder to focus our attention on God at all times.<

For further information click on the title of this post to go to the Jewish healing website