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By Pieta Woolley
When Eoin Finn hit his early 20s, he found that the Catholic Church he’d grown up with just wasn’t satisfying his spiritual hunger anymore. His deepest questions—“What happens when I die?”, “Why am I here?”, and “What can I contribute?”—weren’t being addressed in a digestible way. As a student of comparative religion, he bent away from Catholicism toward Buddhism, and then to yoga. That’s where he found his spiritual home. Now a Kitsilano-based yoga instructor, Finn (who calls himself a Blissologist) believes the discipline is filling a spiritual need for many Vancouverites who have abandoned western spiritual traditions—just like him. “The myths associated with our religions don’t work for people anymore,” he told the Georgia Straight. “The idea of a white, bearded guy in the sky passing judgment doesn’t make sense to the average person.…For the past 50 or 60 years, there’s been a spiritual void in North America. Now, all of a sudden, there’s something people can relate to. That makes it hugely popular. Yoga is about how to deal with greed, which is a huge spiritual issue in our culture.” His statements are sweeping, but Finn might be on to something. Vancouver is the least-religious major city in Canada, with 42 percent of us declaring on the 2001 census that we had “no religion”. That’s up from 30 percent in 1991. Indeed, we seem to be losing our religion. Meanwhile, Buddhism, which is associated with yoga, has almost doubled its ranks over the past decade, according to Statistics Canada. From University Boulevard to Boundary Road, mat-carrying locals can be seen strolling to and from classes, with Tibetan emblems embroidered on their sacks. So, is yoga filling our city’s religious void? Like everything in “Lotusland”, the answer is richer and more complex than it might seem, thanks to our diverse and contemplative population. For yoga instructor Evelyn Neaman, it’s not a matter of replacing one religion with another. A synagogue-attending Jewish Kabbalist, Neaman told the Straight that yoga practice strengthens her Judaism—and the faith of her dozens of students. “I’m trying to bring life back into an ancient movement,” she said. “People are searching out meaning from ancient traditions, asking themselves, ‘How can I blend them and make my life more meaningful?’?” Neaman pointed out that among Buddhists, there’s an abundance of Jewish people. She calls them “Jew-Bus”, shorthand for the kind of spiritual mixing she referred to. In a synagogue-based faith, she said, you depend on your attendance to express your faith. With yoga, your faith’s expression is integrated into your life. You depend on yourself. At Naramata Centre, a left-leaning Christian retreat in the Okanagan, Marion “Mugs” McConnell has taught interfaith yoga for more than 25 years. In yoga, she said, you can find the compassionate core of all faiths: Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and others. As baby boomers approach old age, she believes, they’re looking for their spiritual selves. In this framework, McConnell believes, modern North American yoga is where ancient religions meet, flow into each other, and bloom in a new consciousness, like the lotus. “When I teach, people want to find the similarities, not the differences” between the religions, she told the Straight. “That’s the beautiful thing about yoga. You don’t have to be Buddhist or Hindu or Sikh to enjoy yoga. You can follow whatever fits with your heart. The teachers today are so accommodating.” Some say they are over-accommodating, and that North American yoga has been watered down into a turtle-speed aerobics class. Like many, McConnell is sad for the instructors who seem to be in it for the money, and the pretty-pants couture among B.C. yoginis. Neaman agrees with the Buddhist point that the reason for doing yoga is to make the body sound for meditation, rather than hot in a bikini. Without meditation, what’s the point of the warrior pose? Tatsuya Aoki, the resident minister at Vancouver Buddhist Church in Chinatown, hopes that yoga and Buddhism will be practised together by everyone. “It’s like if you play ice hockey,” he said. “If you understand all the strategies in your mind but you never play, you can’t be good at it. And if you play but don’t understand the strategy, you [also] can’t be good.” It’s a tenuous argument to press, because yoga has been fluid for thousands of years. Each culture that has embraced it practises it slightly differently. Most likely, it was Hindu first—the exact origins are obscure—but it has also been incorporated into Buddhism, Sikhism, Sufism (a mystical sect of Islam), Judaism, and Christianity. Finn argues that yoga has now been incorporated, as part of its evolution, into our materialistic culture. And that’s not a bad thing. “You cannot transport something into another culture without having that culture transform it,” said the man who teaches a yoga class for surfers in Tofino once a week. “A lot get into yoga for shallow reasons; it will make you very fit. And I don’t think that yoga would have enjoyed the renaissance it has if women couldn’t go to it in such nice clothing.…But the values will become a part of people’s life, even if they’re just concerned about how their bum looks in the pants they’re wearing.” Finn thinks that yoga’s next incarnation, as a spiritual practice for these atheistic times, could be legitimate. So do Neaman and McConnell. In fact, even the shallowest yogini-Barbie likely can’t resist what yoga has to offer—beyond flat abs. “When you do yoga for a long time, it does change you,” said Neaman. “Your soul shines through. When you’re lying there in savasana [relaxation] at the end, it is a bliss state, and we’re all looking for bliss. It’s when your mind and body are connected. And who wouldn’t be attracted to that?” Aoki is concerned, though, that fad-loving North America might drop yoga like the Hula-Hoop. He remembers when the Dalai Lama came to town in 2004, and Chapters was full of books about the Tibetan spiritual leader. When he left, Chapters was no longer full of books about the Dalai Lama. “Last December, so many people donated money for the [Asian] tsunami, and shared their compassion with those who suffered through the disaster,” he continued. “But after a year has passed, hardly anyone thinks of the tsunami. Now our attention is to the people of the United States. “People’s interest comes quick, and it can be gone quick, too.” But for yoga, Vancouver has proven, there’s always another incarnation. 27-Oct-2005 by Rabbi Andrea C. London
In February, The Forward, a prominent national Jewish weekly, published an article about the Yoga Minyan (article can be found in the February 27, 2004 edition, online at www.forward.com), the Shabbat morning service that Julie Singer and I have choreographed to yoga postures. While we were very excited to get national coverage, the article did not adequately explain how I think this service is an authentic expression of Jewish prayer. I would, therefore, like to devote this Talmud Torah column to my thoughts on the connection between Judaism and the body and prayer. In the morning service we begin with blessings thanking God for creating our bodies, giving us the ability to study Torah, and for our souls. After acknowledging God’s role in the intricate functioning of our bodies, it seems to me that we ignore the body during the rest of the service. We say lots of words in Jewish prayer – words from the Torah and written by the rabbis – to remind us of our history and to teach us about our values and sacred obligations. By adding music to our worship, we seek to bring the words of our tradition off the page of the prayerbook and into our hearts and souls. In the Yoga Minyan, we add another dimension to our worship by connecting the prayers to our body. Judaism has remained steadfast in its belief that the body is not inferior to the soul and that our bodies are vehicles through which we can access the Divine. By using our body to express our prayer, we strive to create a symbiotic relationship between the body and soul, restoring the body and soul to spiritual wholeness. Let me offer you an example: The Shema and the blessing that follows, known as the V’ahavta, signify an acceptance of the yoke of G-d’s kingdom and commandments. Jewish prayer, however, is not strictly a contractual exercise, but a daily act designed to help us internalize ideas about our relationship with G-d and G-d’s creation and to recognize G-d’s immanent presence in our lives. In traditional Jewish prayer, we recite the words in the prayer book while using symbols such as the tallit, music, and choreographed bowing to nurture our connection to G-d. The Yoga Minyan simply employs a broader range of choreographed body movements to add another dimension to the kavanah (spiritual intention) of our prayer. The prayers that precede and follow the Shema speak of G-d’s love for us (Ahavah Rabbah) and of our love for G-d (V’ahavta). The postures that we assume for these prayers are an embodiment of these emotions. Ideally, prayer should move us to act more in consonance with G-d’s will. To that end, in the Yoga Minyan, we use our bodies in addition to our hearts and minds in an effort to bind ourselves closer to G-d. In this way, we can stand, bow, and stretch out our arms in praise of the Creator of our bodies, whom we refer to in our morning prayers as the Wondrous Fashioner and Sustainer of life. I invite you to join us at our next Yoga Minyan (April 3 and April 24) so that he might experience for yourself the layers of meaning that are uncovered and the connection to G-d that can be felt when the body is more fully integrated into prayer. Rabbi Andrea C. London Beth Emet The Free Synagogue Evanston, IL 847-869-4230 (w) 847-677-0846 (h) [email protected] by Rabbi Eli Mallon, M.Ed., LMSW
http://www.rabbielimallon.wordpress.com/ Adam and Eve ate fruit from “the tree of the knowledge of good and bad.” [1] Afterwards, they thought that they could determine what’s best for themselves (e.g. they should be clothed). [2] This attitude underlies “pride”: “I know what’s best and I want my way.” But this, we come to see, is also the root of all fear, anger, worry, envy, etc. [3] No one really knows the future. An act that seems “wrong” at first, can sometimes turn out to be beneficial. Conversely, an act that seems “right” at first can ultimately have negative consequences (e.g. appeasing Hitler pre-WW II). Outside of the general guidelines of mitzvot, or nama/niyama, we ourselves really can’t know. So: Adam and Eve didn’t actually “know good and bad” after eating the fruit They erroneously believed that they “knew.” Their “pride” had no basis in Reality. This world (or universe) in which we now live actually is “Eden,” when seen from the “Divine” viewpoint (which, for us, means higher states of conscious-ness). Eating the fruit, “Eden” became a world of toil, trials and fear – but in appearance only. Eden never ceased to be Eden in reality. The world isn’t “less filled with G-d” just because we don’t see G-d in the world or the world in G-d. The Midrash [4] says: when Adam and Eve were in the Garden, they were 200 cubits [@350-400 ft.] tall; when they left the Garden, they were 100 cubits [@150-200 ft.] tall. Were people ever really 100 cubits tall, let alone 200? No. But from higher heights, we see further. So, perhaps the midrash is saying that while in Eden, Adam and Eve could “see further”: Their consciousness, their field of vision, was “higher,” more inclusive, while they were in the Garden, and lower after they left it. While in the Garden, they saw the world more from a Divine perspective; afterwards, from more of a human one. Another Midrash [5] says: Before their disobedience, Adam (and Eve?) saw a light in which they could see “from one end of the world to the other.” It similarly says that their faces “glowed.” It’s our “natural state.” All of us should be in a higher state of conscious-ness, filled with light and glowing with health, joy and love. If we take it further, all of us are already perfect! Our perception became limited by Adam & Eve’s error [*] but the essential truth never changed. In effect, our perception is inaccurate. Rabbi Hisda said: “Of all in whom there’s a ‘prideful’ spirit’ [גסות הרוח], G-d says, ‘he [or she] and I can’t live in the world together’.” [6] It means that our own mistaken sense of separation obscures G-d’s ongoing Presence to us. Our “pride,” our assumed “separate self”, has no actual reality. It’s a “tendency” that each of us carries – as a consequence of Adam and Eve’s foolish non-compliance – that can be corrected by re-harmonizing ourselves with our own Divine Source – i.e. by surrender of our sense of separation from G-d. As Steve Sufian, teacher of TM, has commented, this isn’t a “thought” or “mood.” It’s an actual change in consciousness. Jewish tradition calls it “D’veikut” — “cleaving to G-d.” It’s the ultimate goal of any meditation or spiritual method. Until Avraham (“Avram,” at first), Biblical characters either “walked with G-d” or walked immersed in their own worldliness. Avraham’s the first to demon-strate the possibility of rediscovering that we’re living perpetually in Eden. There are multiple paths to this “rediscovery,” as Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and others teach [7]. Among them could clearly be counted “karma yoga” — the surrender of the self through “selfless action;” what Maharishi Mahesh Yogi calls “the innocent path of action” (as in “Torah lishma”) [8] — or “bhakti yoga” — transcending through the love of G-d (as in Hasidut) [9]. In later midrashim, Avraham is even spoken of as coming to his realization through a process of “reasoning” — i.e. “jnana yoga;” the “intellectual” path to G-d-realization (as in learning Kabbalah, Rambam, Luzzatto, etc.) [10]. But the outcome is the same: the surrender of the self to the Self. It’s called “obedience” in the Bible: Not the frightened groveling of a slave or prisoner, but the submission of one who would learn all that his or her teacher can share with a willing student. It’s reunifying ourselves with our Divine Source. It’s coming back to what we are meant to be. ________________________________________________________________ [1] B’reishith/Gen. 3:6 [2] B’reishith/Gen. 3:7 [3] B’reishith/Gen. 3:10 [4] Pesikta Rabbati 1:1 [5] G’morah to Mishnah Hagigah 2:1 and elsewhere [6] Sotah 5a [7] Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; The Science of Being and the Art of Living (1966); p. 281 [8] Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; Commentary on the Bhagavad Gita (3:3); p. 185 [9] Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; The Science of Being and the Art of Living (1966); p. 290; see also Commentary on the Bhagavad Gita (4:25); p. 293 [10] Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; The Science of Being and the Art of Living (1966); p. 283 [*] We could also interpret the “Adam & Eve” story allegorically as a process that’s taking place within us, but that would be outside the limits of this short piece. by Rabbi Eli Mallon, M.Ed., LMSW
The subject matter of the Advaita Vedanta of Shankara (the non-dual branch of Indian philosophy) is the true, real unity of all apparently diverse things; “from the one comes the many,” but the “many” only seem to “come from” the One. In truth, there is always, only the One. As Maharishi Mahesh Yogi wrote in “The Art of Living and the Science of Being,” “The whole of creation is the field of consciousness [expressed] in different forms and phenomena.” (p. 29) In Vedanta, it’s often summed up in the statement: “All this is That.” In Kabbalah, this process of the “One becoming the many” is called the “Seder Hishtalshelut,” often translated into English as the “process of emanation.” Things are said to “emanate” from their Divine source, like lightrays “emanate” from the sun. In fact, the rays have no separate existence from the sun itself. This emanation proceeds by “degrees,” called the S’firot (or Sephiroth, etc.). Yet, the S’firot themselves are only varying expressions of the unchanging, all-encompassing “Ein Sof.” Rabbi Mosheh Cordovero, the great systematizer of Kabbalistic teachings, said that until he began learning Kabbalah, he was “as if asleep and pursuing idle thoughts.” He wrote: “Do not say, ‘This is a stone and not G-d.’ G-d forbid! Rather, all existence is G-d, and the stone is a thing pervaded by divinity.” Or, as Vedanta says, “All this is that.” Cordovero famously depicted the s’firot as emanating one-within-the-other, from “outer” to “inner”, beginning with “Keter” (of which כ is the first Hebrew letter). Each subsequent name is indicated by its initial Hebrew letter. Other Kabbalistic diagrams and illustrations depict Divine emanation as a process that unfolds from the “inner” to the “outer.” These might seem to conflict. However, if we remember that these aren’t “empirical” illustrations of the process itself, but rather depictions of different ways that we can view (or conceive of) the process, we see what our teachers are trying to tell us: Both “outer” and “inner” only describe our own limited viewpoint. Meditation, or contemplation, in Kabbalah/Hasidut, may begin on the “process,” but points back to the essential, unchanging Oneness. As Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi says in his book “Tanya,” from G-d’s viewpoint, the “emanation” never took place. It only takes place from the “human” viewpoint. Contemplation of this ultimately produces changes in consciousness and spiritual growth. All “this” eternally remains “That.” I see real parallels with Vedanta; you might, as well. Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook extolled the contemplation of “emanation”: “How beautiful is the mystical conception of the divine emanation as the source of all existence, all life, all beauty, all power, all justice, all good, all order, all progress. How great is the influence of this true conception on all the ways of life, how profound is its logic, what a noble basis for morality. The basis for the formation of higher, holy, mighty and pure souls is embodied in it. The divine emanation, by its being, engenders everything. It is unlimited in its freedom, there is no end to its unity, to its riches, to its perfection, to its splendor, and the influence of its potency and its diverse manifestations. All the oceans of song, all the diverse torrents of perception, all the force of life, all the laughter, the joyous delights — everything flows from it. Into everything it releases the influence of its soul force. Its influence, its honor, its deliverance reaches to the lowest depths. The innocent and luminous will of man has already embraced some of its splendor. He continues to ascend, and he elevates everything with him. Everything proclaims G-d’s glory: ‘The grandeur of Your Holiness fills Your creation; (yet) You are forevermore, L-rd’ (Psalm 93;5).” You are forevermore. All this is that. by Rabbi Myriam Klotz
[originally published on The Huffington Post, August 20, 2010] I read with great interest Anita Diamant’s recent piece, “A Happily Bifurcated Yoga Jew: Why I Keep My Asanas and my ‘Adonais’ Separate.” I am a rabbi, a certified yoga teacher, and have taught Jewish Yoga for over two decades. At the time I read the piece I was in the midst of co-teaching 23 participants in the third cohort of the Yoga and Jewish Spirituality Teacher Training Institute (YJSTT) held at Isabella Freedman Jewish Retreat Center in Falls Village, CT, and had just before that completed a summer season of retreat-based Jewish Yoga — teaching to almost 80 rabbis from across the spectrum of Jewish life as part of the Institute for Jewish Spirituality’s 18 month Rabbinic Leadership program. Experience has shown me an approach that differs from Diamant’s: I passionately advocate the aspiration towards integrating one’s yoga practice and one’s Jewish life. Diamant states that she finds great spiritual value in her yoga practice, a practice that engages her fully in the moment and in which she feels deeply, satisfyingly, present. She writes, “One of my yoga masters (an Australian woman who has the long body and longer ponytail of a Nav’i) often says, ‘If all you’re interested in is a work-out, you should go to an aerobics class.’ She also says things like, ‘Yoga is about paying attention, learning to explore discomfort, surrendering to gravity,’ and other bon mots that strike me as profound in class but tend to sound obvious and pedestrian when I try to repeat them later.” I think Diamant has put her finger on exactly why Jewish Yoga sessions can be so profoundly healing and nourishing for a Jewish yogi. When we can hear sacred Jewish phrases or teachings offered just at those moments when we are most alive and attuned to the deeper strata of our cells and our souls, we can be stirred towards spiritual growth and transformation. I find that through practicing “asana” (Sanskrit word literally meaning “taking one’s seat”) one can open to “Adonai” (one of the many names of God, reflecting Awareness and Consciousness itself). When a Jewish insight is taught in the context of the deeply intentional, physical work of asana practice, a formerly abstract point can take on concrete meaning in a person’s life so that they can feel then connected Jewishly where before they had not. This often has impact beyond the yoga mat – how we treat our beloveds, our community members, our students and teachers, our friends. It just may help us be more effective in living our Jewish values in accordance with our deepest beliefs and desires. Yoga does help us “empty the mind,” as Diamant states, and to quiet the egoic self while we open to experience something bigger. Yet, I find that it can be meaningful if we also “fill” our awareness with positive Jewish teachings and imagery in those very moments because the resonance of the deeper spiritual teachings have a chance to be conveyed without the chatter that accompanies the “Jewish committee meeting” mind state to which Diamant refers. For example, yoga is a means through which I can come to “sit in the House of God,” as it says in Psalm 27 (a psalm Jews recite daily during this month of Elul as we prepare for the New Year ahead). I know of no other way to “sit in the House of God” than to start with where I actually am and to pay attention. Cultivating this kind of awareness on the yoga mat is strengthened mightily when I can bring to my conscious intention that I desire as to “sit” not just with myself, but with God, in “God’s House.” That awareness stirs my soul to attention even as I am highly aware of the placement of the ankle bones and the inner arch of the feet in a simple seated pose. In this integrative kind of moment, “Asana” and “Adonai” reverberate in meaningful (if silent) discourse, albeit through simultaneous and different vernaculars. My own bodily experience and “language” is the site of that conversation. Moreover, I believe it is inaccurate to suggest or imply that yoga itself is devoid of intellectual content. In fact, to do yoga safely and effectively, one’s mind is or should be very much engaged. If you are not paying attention to precise details of anatomy and asking yourself questions about the impact of one movement or breath upon the body as a whole, you are not fully engaging the potential of this practice. Yoga practice encourages active, steady inquiry by the practitioner. Yoga-related injuries are much more prone to occur when one is not being intentional in poses, or finding the balance between wilfully muscling into a position, and allowing it to slowly unfold as muscles, nerves and tissues soften and open with time. To strike this balance, you need to be focused, alert and actively inquiring about how your body is responding to a slight movement here or a different way of breathing there. Yoga can help us expand what it is we mean when we say “mind,” including but extending beyond the intellectual mind. Yoga “yokes” or joins the intellectual and the sensory levels of one’s intelligence. It does not privilege one over the other. A yoga teacher’s job, like a rabbi’s or Jewish educator’s, is to offer information and guidance to help a person wake up and come present in a more highly informed way. We do not leave our intelligent, aware selves outside of the yoga studio or off the mat, any more than we would seek to check our intelligent self outside of the beit midrash for serious text study, outside of the synagogue or any other prayer space where we might seek to “sit in the House of God,” or any other place of serious Jewish inquiry. Yoga informed with this Jewish intention of sitting in God’s presence is a highly integrative, highly conscious and intelligent venture. “B’chol darechecha daeyhu,” “In all your ways, know God,” is a Jewish teaching highly valued in both religious and spiritual circles. It implies that for a person with spiritual or religious intention, every aspect of one’s life is an avenue through which one can wake up. Yoga master BKS Iyengar has written that through yoga you can wake up every cell of the body and that each cell carries within it vast intelligence. As one becomes through this physical practice more aware of and skillfull at partnering with this sacred intelligence running through the body, one is in effect embodying a fuller actualization of the Jewish teaching, “In all your ways [not just some of them, some of the time, as codified in a way you are habituated to], know God.” To be clear, Jewish Yoga does not take the place of Jewish practice as a whole nor of a steady diet of asana practice on the mat. But by practicing Jewish Yoga, some will experience the spiritual and religious depth of a child’s pose bowing gesture (a “prayer of the body”) on Yom Kippur as a meaningful way to pray. Or when one chants a Hebrew phrase on the yoga mat or sets an intention to place God before oneself (in one’s mind’s eye and in the cellular awareness running throughout the body) during an asana session, one’s yoga practice can become itself an expression of personal prayer that has not been experienced (yet?) in shul. These kinds of transformative experiences are shared by some, like myself, who find inspiration and strength for their Jewish lives through asana practice which is, yes, resonant with silent intimations and sometimes chanted declarations of “Adonai.” *** Rabbi Myriam Klotz is Director of Yoga and Lay Programs at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality (www.ijs-online.org) and co-director and co-founder of the Yoga and Jewish Spirituality Teacher Training Institute at Elat Chayyim/Isabella Freedman Jewish Retreat Center (www.isabellafreedman.org/yoga). Klotz graduated from the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College and is a certified yoga instructor inspired by Anusara, Iyengar, and vinyasa yoga methods. To access podcasts and instructional CD’s see www.ijs-online.org by Matthew Gindin, [email protected]
Above The Sun: The Ancient (and New) Riches of Jewish Yoga Tradition says that Avraham, the father of the three greatest faiths of the western world, was a visionary contemplative who saw beyond the fragmented, worldly values of his society. In one account as a result of deep contemplation he saw the universe as a palace aflame with radiant light (Genesis Rabbah 39:1). In another, he meditated on the moon, sun, and constellations and realized each one, rising and setting as they did, couldn’t be the ultimate power. He broke through to see the One behind them all. His wife, Sarah, was herself a yogini , who tradition says had even greater prophetic powers than her husband. When Avraham was tested by God on Mt. Moriah ( Genesis 22:1-14 ) to show that he was willing to sacrifice his son Yitzhak like the tribes around him sacrificed their children to their deities Sarah yearned to join in the great kedushah of that moment (Avodas Yisrael). The aged Sarah entered a state of d’vekus (union with the Divine presence) and abandoned her body, dying in a misas neshika – death by Divine kiss.( Shelah Hakodesh). After her death her body did not decompose for some time, which confirmed for Avraham the high level of her attainment (R’Yonasan Eibeshitz). This sign will be familiar to students of the biographies of saints and mystics the world over. Avraham was told by an angel not to actually sacrifice Yitzhak, demonstrating that God did not want his family to sacrifice their children, but that this did not mean he would demand less from then than the other tribes offered to their gods. Avraham honoured Sarah with burial in the Cave of Machpela, a sacred site to this day. (Genesis 23:1-20) Yitzhak, Sarah and Avraham’s son, was also a contemplative. The Torah describes him as a quiet man who spent a lot of time meditating in the fields (Genesis 24:63; Talmud Bavli Berachot 26a-b). Ya’akov, Yitzhak’s son, was said to dwell in the tents of the sages (Genesis 25:27). He is said to have had the ability to discern the hidden spiritual architecture of the Cosmos (Sfas Emes on Genesis 28:10-22 ). His famed vision of the ladder reaching from earth to heaven, with angels ascending and descending upon it, became a major image in Jewish mysticism. Some saw the ladder as Ya’akov; some modern Jewish yogis see it as the sushumna , the astral energy channel in the spine. Interestingly, In Ya’akov’s vision of the ladder, the angels first ascend, then descend. This is the opposite of what we would expect- that they would descend, then re-ascend. The Rabbis explain that the angels are carrying prayers upward, and then returning with God’s response. Some say, though, that this represents the journey of consciousness up the sushumna and back, reaching up to the Divine and then “returning to the market place with open hands (to serve others)”, to quote the Zen phrase. Another great yogini of the Torah is Moshe’s sister Miryam the Prophetess. She was one of the three great leaders of the Jewish people according to the Talmud. Wherever she accompanied the Jews in the desert a miraculous well followed her known as “Miryam’s Well.” At death she was said to pass away like Sarah from a Divine Kiss, in a state of d’vekus (clinging to God). It may come as a surprise for some to learn of the rich tradition of meditation in Judaism. In fact, mystical, devotional, and transformational meditation practices have been a part of the Jewish faith since Biblical times. There are two primary types of Jewish meditation, which I will call mystical and moral . The first aims at attaining direct experience of God and the hidden structure of the Cosmos, the second at transformation of character. The goal of both practices is ‘d’vekus’, clinging to God at all times and bringing Holiness into this world. The first has come to be associated with the Kabbalah , the second with the Mussar tradition. In this article I will describe both, and provide a brief practical exercise for each so the reader can taste them for themselves.
The book of Rabbi Bar Yochai’s teachings, The Zohar (Book Of Radiance) became the central text of the Kabbalah, second in holiness only to the written and Oral Torah.
The Ramchal, in a characteristically Jewish application of this idea, chanted entire Hebrew texts over and over again without punctuation until he connected with the maggid (angel) of the text. Once when doing this practice in a field outside Sfat with some disciples, he chanted the Mishna, a code of Jewish Laws, in this way. Suddenly he went into an altered state of consciousness. He then turned to his disciples and spoke. “I am the Mishna”, he said.
The Ba’al Shem Tov spent his early years as a “hidden tzaddik “, or saint in disguise, working as an elementary school teacher. He also spent long retreats in the Carpathian Mountains. In 1740 he began preaching, and started a spiritual revolution. He taught a path of joy that emphasized prayer as much as study and made the wisdom of the Kabbalah available to the simple villager. The Baal Shem Tov exalted the place of singing and dancing in the service of God, a marked feature of Hasidic communities to this day. He also emphasized the attainment of states of profound mystic absorption, what the Yoga tradition would call Samadhi. “When you pray”, he taught, “You should be totally divorced from the physical, not aware of your existence in the world at all.” His great grandson, Rabbi Nahman of Bratslav, particularly emphasized the Baal Shem Tov’s teachings of joy and fearlessness in the service of God. “One should be happy all the time”, R’ Nachman taught. “The whole world is a very narrow bridge, and the main thing is not to fear at all.” His meditation is called hitbonenus (see below). It consists of going to an empty room or a secluded wood or field, and pouring out one’s heart to God out loud in an uncensored stream of consciousness. Another great Hasid was Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi. He organized Hasidic teachings into a clear intellectual system called Chabad . ChaBaD stands for Chochmah (intuitive wisdom) Binah (concrete understanding) and Da’as (intimate knowledge). He taught a form of meditation where one used the intellect to nullify all created things before God, seeing only Him as real. ” Ein od milvado “- there is nothing other.
The birth of an organized, self-conscious mussar movement waited for Rabbi Israel Lipkin of Salant (1810-1883), the holy Salanter Rebbe. He worked tirelessly to promote houses of mussar where people would gather to study works of ethics and virtue and practice the form of meditation he invented, hitpailus . In this method one selected a phrase of Torah which addressed a character weakness or virtue one wanted to develop, and repeated it out loud to oneself over and over again, in a way that stirred the heart to respond. The Salanter Rebbe recommended making a curriculum of one’s faults, and singling one out for particular attention each week. “The whole world is a house of mussar’, he taught, “And every person is a book of teachings.” His disciple Rabbi Mendel of Satanov developed the Salanter Rebbe’s teachings into a system (influenced by Benjamin Franklin’s similar system) called Cheshbon Hanefesh , or “Soul Accounting”.
“Once the mind is silenced or stilled, it is fully receptive to ‘mahshavah ahat shel kedushah’- the focusing on one holy thought… the next step is to ask God, in a quiet yet articulated manner, for help in attaining a spiritual gift, such as faith, love of God, or liveliness in his service. The meditation session ends in a niggun (wordless melody).Rabbi Shapira intimates that those who practice this meditation for several weeks would come to know the meaning of the verse “This is my God” (Exodus 15:2).”( Holy Fire ) The Rebbe taught that the conceptual, desirous, ego-mind blocked our deeper awarenesses. That is the reason that dreams furnish insights- because the surface mind is quietened. “We must attain the state of the sleeping mind- while conscious”, the Rebbe taught ( Sefer Derech Hamelech ). This idea will be familiar to many Yogis. The holy Rebbe further taught that one should eventually come to see the whole world as souls and Divine essences. Before one could see this, however, the Rebbe taught that one could still transform one’s perspective by impressing the Divine nature of all creation into the mind. “The whole world and everything in it is Divine in origin and substance. It is not visible to my eyes, but God is the source of all reality; even I am full of God. The sand under my feet is an articulation of God. The whole world is utterly comprised of, and dependent on, God. Now I, of my own free will, have come to think of myself as a free and independent agent; I have exiled myself from the sense of the presence of God.” ( Conscious Community ) The Rebbe taught that this was already the perspective of the soul, the mind and body had to be trained to align with it.
Some, however, tried to revivify Judaism, either from sources within or without. Those that chose the former began vital movements from within Orthodoxy like the contemporary manifestation of Chabad, an internationally successful Hasidic group that tries to bring non-observant Jews back to the fold. Streams of Kabbalah , Mussar , and Hasidism still survive in the worldwide Orthodox community as well. Among those that chose to revitalize Judaism from new springs Jewish Renewal was formed, a movement which embraces the insights of Feminism, Deep Ecology, and Eastern Religions. They have formed a point of re-entry for many Jews attracted to intense spirituality but not Orthodoxy. Spiritual teacher Alan Morinis has recently begun energetically teaching Mussar meditation outside of the Orthodox, strictly Jewish environments it normally flourishes in. Elat Chayyim, a Jewish Retreat Center in Connecticut, teaches 2 year courses in Jewish meditation and boasts a Jewish Yoga Teacher Training. Those looking to see what the wisdom of ancient Jewish traditions might have to offer their practice can begin by experimenting with the practices described below, and then see the resource list for further places to explore. What the future holds for Jewish meditation only time will tell. Innovators are making new synthesises, the few surviving lineages of Jewish mystical practices are making a comeback, and commercializers are selling Kabbalah merchandise to Hollywood stars. “There is nothing new under the sun’, said the Preacher in Ecclesiastes. ” ‘Under the sun’ there maybe nothing new”, commented the Rabbis, “But above the sun is another question.”
1) Go out to a secluded place in nature, or to an empty room. 2) Speak to God out loud, with no censorship, in a constant stream of consciousness for at least a few minutes. If you are bored, or have nothing to say, say, “I’m bored, I have nothing to say, this is stupid, but I have to keep talking to you. Oh, how I wish I had something to say. I’m not sure I even believe in You…” Whatever comes to mind, say it. Empty your heart, pray for whatever you need or want, complain, mourn, thank, rejoice, request.
2) Keep a daily record of how many times a day you use a positive or negative trait. Over the weeks, months and years you can see the change, and assess yourself more accurately.
2) Watch the flow of your thoughts without getting involved with them,viewing them “from the outside”. 3) When the thoughts slow and the mind becomes more clear and malleable, focus on the holy thought, letting it sink into your conscuousness. Feel its energy and let any associations arise and pass away. 4) When your consciousness feels steadied, uplifted, and purified, ask the Divine for a spiritual gift- a quality you would like to acheive in your practice- in your sadhana. 5) Conclude with a niggun (wordless melody ciming spontaneously into your heart), mantra, or sacred song.
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AuthorsThese are written by our wonderful teachers across the Jewish Yoga Network. |