Jewish Healing

By now you might be wondering what Jewish healing is all about. It grew from the concern of contemporary Jews who dedicated themselves to the benefits that accrue from living a spiritual life. Among the values derive from contact with spirit are healing, love, compassion, wisdom, abundance, creativity and intuition.

From the Kabbalah, we learn that the blessings that flows down from God is pure energy which gets transformed step by step through the spiritual worlds until it reaches our material world. Here it takes the form of the body and any interruptions or blockages in that flow manifests itself into what we call illness. Illness can take place on all levels of body, mind and spirit depending on where it gets stuck. So the first requirement of authentic Jewish healing has to be on an energetic level. The second requirement is that it be Torah based, meaning that it needs to involve specific Mitzvot such as prayer and misheberah, bikim holim (visiting the sick), doing t'shuvah (turning inward towards God), tsedakah (giving to others), the study and visualizations of selected biblical text, and the recitation of specific tehillim (psalms).

The third element to qualify healing as authentically Jewish is that it eliminates an affinity towards anything that smacks of avodah zarah -forbidden worship which means idol worship in the broadest sense, or engaging in religions outside of Judaism. Not only objects or people, but thoughts, feelings, beliefs, opinions, convictions, etc. that binds one to pay homage to the object of devotion. So many medical and psychological theories that many of us cherish must be seen as the idolatry it is owing to strong convictions of worshiping mental constructs.

Spirituality and Healing

Jewish spirituality and healing are inextricably bound together. Healers around the world know that God is our ultimate healer; the force that enables true healing to take place. www.jewishealing.com is the website dedicated to spirituality and healing.

Judaism 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 Kabbalah, it is believed, we can fix what went wrong with our bodies, our emotions, and our minds. Our entire existence—the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual life—emanates from the Divine realm, and provides for all of our personal needs, which we receive continuously. Many questions arise out of spiritual inquiry such as “Who am I?” “What is the purpose of my existence?” “What is the meaning of life?” “What happens to me after I die?” and a host of other similar questions that may pose a threat to our mental and emotional stability. Quite often, people, upon entering psychotherapy, find that their painful issues are not emotional but indeed spiritual.

Healing is a function of living a spiritual life. Healing can be defined as the natural process by which the body repairs itself. As an integral part of nature, we all consist of the energy of Creation. A number of terms have been coined throughout the history of healing practices to describe energy; for our purposes, we mean the vital energy, the power that energizes life. This power is synonymous with what we call God. On Shavuot, we refresh our connection to God, our healing power, by receiving His Torah.

Some of us believe that entering a spiritual path will solve our overall problems; they are often disillusioned when they find their lives have not really changed as a result of their introduction. Mysticism has always been the tool of spiritual explorers who stick with it, delving into the depths of their being, in search for an understanding of and an intimate relationship with the Creator. A grasp of Kabbalah can serve our healing efforts well however it is a long tedious journey that may last a lifetime while the practice of standard Jewish tradition—Torah, Mitzvot, and Prayer—bring about changes right now

Jewish tradition tries hard, though sometimes pitifully, to relate that the entrance to the “Gates” is the alignment of our personalities with our souls, our spiritual Self. In more familiar terms, it means aligning ourselves with God and Torah. Rabbi Lawrence Kushner put in succinctly when he wrote, “The Pentateuch is God’s Torah; each one of us is our own Torah whose purpose in life is to align our Torah to His Torah”.

You may ask, “Why traveling on the road to heaven—or biblically, the road to Canaan—is so urgently important for those on the spiritual journey”? I think that if a survey were taken to determine just what most people want in their lives, I think we would find that they want a just and moral society where people can flourish in accord with their aspirations.

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.