Month: October 2009
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz
As we move forward from Tishrei, filled with Jewish holidays bringing renewal and beginning again, into the month of Cheshvan, empty of Jewish festival dates, I’ve been working on a number of new activities that point to the potential of emptiness and simplicity as the doorway into deeper spiritual awareness in our everyday lives. I’ve been teaching mindfulness meditation to a group of teenagers at our cross-communal Jewish high school program, Merkaz, and I’ve also been bringing a brief introduction to meditative practices to our 5th and 6th graders before we pray our abridged evening service together at Religious School. Next month I am launching a new meditation and chanting hour at a local holistic healing center, the Soma Center for Well-Being, with a member of our congregation, Andrea Rudolph. And this Shabbat, a group of 21 women from the congregation are joining me for our 2nd one day retreat, this year on the theme of Interactive meditation – how mindfulness practices impact on our everyday activities and interactions with others and the world around us.
There are many venues for practicing meditation, and they do not necessarily have to sit within a religious or spiritual framework. However, different frameworks emphasize different dimensions of the practice and, for me, the spiritual connection is an extremely important and powerful aspect of mindfulness.
Many people are drawn to mindfulness meditation as a relaxation technique – a way of creating space and silence, to just breathe, and take a break from the stress and hectic nature of the rest of their lives. There is no question that meditation practice can be deeply relaxing. In fact, it is not unusual for some people to fall asleep during a meditation practice, so calming can it be to tune in to the rhythm of your breathing, or chant a mantra over and over. But, from a spiritual perspective, meditation is not about tuning out and falling asleep… its about waking up! Mindfulness is about becoming aware of this moment. You might think that you are always present in this moment… where else would you be? But when we sit quietly and do something as ‘simple’ as just noticing our breath coming in and going out, most of us soon notice how hard it is to stay focused on that one thing. And when we begin to notice what our mind is doing, we notice that we spend a great deal of time in the past or in the future, but very little time actually being fully present to right now.
I’d like to share some insights and practices from a Jewish approach to mindfulness meditation in coming posts because, in addition to the awareness and growth that can come to each of us as individuals when we engage in mindfulness meditation practices, there are mindfulness practices and teachings that come from our Jewish wisdom traditions that show us that it is through our presence – to this moment, to our deepest selves, to our planet, and to each other – that we can access an experience of The Presence. Bringing this awareness into our lives not only helps us to walk through our lives being more awake, but can infuse the rituals and practices that have been handed down to us through Jewish communities and families with a power that can reawaken our passion for meaningful engagement with Jewish living and celebration.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz
Earlier this week, Arianna Huffington announced a ‘HuffPost Book Club’ at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/. She explains that she wants to share interesting,thought-provoking books, and not necessarily just selected from the latest releases. Her first selection is called ‘In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed’, by Carl Honore, which was published in 2004. Arianna’s review certainly tempts me to take a look, and as I glance at the chapter headings, available, along with substantial excerpts, here, it is apparent that Jewish wisdom and practice has the perfect antidote to the ‘cult of speed’… Shabbat. Honore reflects on how we eat, where we live, how we care for our bodies, how we make love, how we work and rest, and how we raise our children.
© 2005
Words & Music by Beth A. Schafer
Hebrew text: Genesis
Arms are full, tank is low, did I place or even show in this week’s race?
Then the sun warms up my arm hanging out my window.
Another mile and a deep breath brings me ‘round.
Chorus
Slow me, slow me down
Slow me, slow me down
I need rejuvenation to find the heartbeat of creation
Got to slow me down
I’ve got piles on my piles and lists of lists unfinished so what else is new
Colors whizzing by me too much busy too much, “Why me?” in this crazy zoo
Then the strains of old songs written long ago tug my ear again
Another couple hours and I’ll be wrapped in those sweets sounds
Chorus
U’vayom hashvi’i Shabbat vayinafash, Shabbat vayinafash
Trans. For in six days God created the heavens and the earth and on the seventh day,
If you would like to read, review, or forward this year’s High Holyday sermons, delivered by Rabbi Jim Prosnit and Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz at Congregation B’nai Israel, they are now available here. This year, a wide range of themes were covered, from civility in society, to end of life decisions, to finding sources of spiritual consolation in our tradition in these challenging times, to reflections on why faith, and communities of faith, matter.
Our Ba’al Tekiah, Stuart Edelstein, also delivered a wonderful sermon on the Shofar, and the spiritual signficance of the Shofar notes, reflecting on his twentieth year as Ba’al Tekiah at Congregation B’nai Israel. You can read his text here.
We certainly welcome your comments and reflections, and invite you to share these High Holyday messages with others who you think may be nourished by them.
Sukkot, like so many of our Jewish Festivals, is multilayered with significance and meaning. I sometimes love the ‘archeological’ exploration of our Holy days. Like uncovering the strata of time, seeing multiple generations of civilization down through the centuries as we dig at a historical site, so we find historical layers to the Festivals. Often, as with Sukkot, agricultural roots, then the historical narrative of association with the Exodus from Egypt, then the stories of the Temple rituals associated with the holiday in Jerusalem, then the metaphorical layers added to the symbolism of shaking the lulav and the etrog, and then some of the contemporary connections spurring us to social action, such as the focus on homelessness.
All of these layers are drenched with potential for us to draw close to the ritual forms and practices of the holiday, and find something that resonates deeply within us. This year, I am focusing on the historical origins of the holiday, the earliest layers – the celebration of the end of the Fall harvest, and the focus on rain for the land. For Jewish farmers, this layer of meaning is directly experienced and deeply lived. But most of us are not Jewish farmers. How do we tap into a deeply felt experience of land, produce, and water?
I would like to suggest a practice that could just as easily be a personal, silent contemplative meditation, or a group sharing and discussion. Some of us buy our vegetables from a CSA; some from local farm stands; some have grown our own fruits and vegetables this year in our gardens; some have or will take our families to go apple or pumpkin picking. Thinking about those experiences more deeply, we can bring to mind or verbalize our response to the miracle of growing things, the colors, the textures, the tastes, the feeling of harvesting the fruits of our labors, or having met the people who grew and harvested our food. We can share stories about having been traveling somewhere and seeing a field full of something growing – perhaps something we hadn’t seen before (my first experience of seeing date palms in Israel, and orange groves in Florida, with the incredible smell that fills the air, will remain with me forever). Or perhaps our attention is turned to the miracle of water – seeing a particularly gorgeous or spectacular body of water, seeing the miracle of drip irrigation systems literally turning parts of the desert green in Israel, the incredible innovation of the aqueduct and the transportation of water, the time when we were caught in the fiercest of torrential downpours, being made aware of the incredible power of water…
Taking time to think about these experiences – the ones that we have lived, the things that are part of the flow of our everyday lives, and then picking up the lulav and etrog to say the blessings, or then reciting the blessing for sitting in the sukkah – we, like the words of Rabbi Nachman’s prayer, send the life of the earth into our words of prayer. No longer the perfunctory performance of ancient rituals and words, they now become ripe with the experiences of our own lives. We energize our daily experiences with spiritual consciousness, and we energize the rituals of Jewish living by attaching them to meaningful life experience.
Chag Sameach
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz