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Category: spirituality

#BlogElul: What lies between the pages? #takeaseatmakeafriend

What book has made a profound impact on you? In what ways?

In recent years, I think that one of the books that has made the most profound impact on me, especially in the context of my work as a Rabbi, is a spiritual memoir called ‘Devotion’, by Dani Shapiro.  I shared something about this book in an Elul reflection posted here in 2010.

What was so profound about Dani’s memoir was the intensely honest reflection on a spiritual journey that did not fit neatly into preconceived definitions and boxes. This is, in fact, the case with any personal spiritual journey. Dani’s memoir demonstrates so powerfully how we can gain deep spiritual insight from the close examination of our own lived experiences, as she also explores a variety of spiritual practices that can help us to pay attention in new ways.  Truly allowing ourselves to probe deeply into these experiences requires us to permit ourselves to be vulnerable. And to share these questions, observations, and insights with others can take courage. Dani doesn’t preach; she simply shares her own story and asks her own questions, and leaves you to make up your own mind. Perhaps you, too, will be encouraged to reflect deeply on your own journey. Dani’s experiences taught me that I could best share Jewish wisdom and spiritual practice with others by truly listening to and helping to guide people on their journeys, and only then offering the resources that our rich heritage can provide to meet the specific needs, hopes, and questions of the seeker.  I’d like to think that it has helped me to be a better Rabbi.

So, What book has made a profound impact on you? In what ways?

Mysticism: the Experiential path to finding God

I’ve just started teaching a new course at my congregation on Jewish mysticism. There are many ways to engage with this sizable topic: we could focus on the intellectual history of mysticism from Ezekiel’s vision of a holy chariot through Merkavah mysticism, the Zohar and Kabbalah, Lurianic Kabbalah and Chassidism, to name just a few eras and genres of literature. But I have found that the theory can get in the way of what really draws people to want to learn more about mysticism.

Mysticism, in its essence, is about the experiential. It points to direct experiences of that which others have then sought to do the impossible with – to put those deeply felt and powerful experiences into the limiting vessel of words. We need words to try and convey something to someone else. But words will never enable another to truly get inside the experience.

Take the biblical account of the Burning Bush. I don’t know if I can believe in that account in a literal manner. A bush that burned with fire yet was not consumed. And a voice spoke from out of the bush. But here’s what I absolutely do know from the story that is recounted. And I don’t mean ‘know’ in the sense of historical accuracy, but rather in terms of what the essential message of that moment in the story conveys to me. Moses, who had left his people and could have spent the rest of his life tending sheep and living among the Midianites, has a life-course altering experience. He is ‘called’ to do something else with his life. So powerful is the tug that he is willing to go back into the lion’s den, so to speak, to confront Pharaoh and lead his people with whom he has had so little contact. Perhaps it was the earlier interaction that he had had with a slave driver that weighed on his conscience for all those years until he could bear it no more, realizing that he had a responsibility to change the situation for the enslaved. Perhaps it was a dissatisfaction with his simple life and the question that had gnawed at him as he wondered what his purpose on earth truly was. But out in the wilderness with his sheep he had a mystical experience that caused him to entirely change the direction of his life and, with it, the history of our people.

How do you explain that to someone else? How do you express in words the power of such a transformative moment? There is no question that the image of the burning bush is a powerful one that conveys not only the extraordinariness of the moment, but also conveys that this is a God experience. Whether it actually happened that way or not is almost irrelevant – the transformative power of the moment is undeniable.

When I started my Jewish mysticism course this past week, I asked attendees if they could think of personal moments when an experience was so deeply felt that it seemed to point toward the existence of something beyond the here and now. A moment, if you like, when you ‘peered behind the veil’ of material existence, if only for a moment. The examples shared were not hard to find. Personal experiences of healing, or working with the sick and the dying, were particularly prevalent, perhaps because at these moments of greatest vulnerability we are more likely to let down our own defenses and be open to something larger than ourselves. And, as people shared, there was an emotion that came with the sharing; that lump in the throat and the tearing up of eyes as, through re-telling about the moment in words, the power of the original experience was felt all over again.

That’s the experience that we need to pay attention to. So often, we get caught up on the ways that others have defined God for us. We get caught up in philosophical debates about whether God is all-powerful or all-knowing. We may find the intellectual exercise an engaging one but, ultimately, it will not bring us any closer to truly understanding the nature of God. The most we can hope for are the brief glimpses that emerge in the fabric of our everyday lives. And we can learn, through awareness and spiritual practice (meditation in particular, but not uniquely) to pay attention to these moments and let them teach us and guide the path of our lives.