7] “The Eternal Is with Me, I Shall Not Fear”: Jewish Contemplative Practices and Well-Being
Zari Weiss and David Levy
Over the centuries, most religious traditions have developed practices that support the cultivation of a contemplative approach to life. Judaism is no exception. Indeed, many of the practices that have traditionally been considered central to living a Jewish life have a strong contempla- tive orientation, and such practices can be helpful in alleviating the stress of everyday life. In the following pages, we will look at three practices in particular—prayer, meditation, and Sabbath time—that we have found valuable not only in our own practice, but also in teaching and counsel- ing others.
The coauthors of this paper come to this exploration with distinct but overlapping backgrounds. Rabbi Zari Weiss was ordained at the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in 1991, a five-year post- graduate educational institution, and has served as a rabbi in a number of capacities. Trained in the art and practice of Spiritual Direction at the Mercy Center in Burlingame, California (a Catholic-based institution), she also has worked as a spiritual director/companion with individuals and groups since 1993. She was a founding instructor, and taught for six years in a national program to train other Jews in Spiritual Direction from a Jewish perspective, and she has offered workshops and classes to rabbis and rabbinic students.
David Levy is a professor in the Information School at the University of Washington. Trained originally as a computer scientist (with a PhD from Stanford University), he too has been trained in Spiritual Direction
at Mercy Center, and has practiced as a spiritual director, although to a lesser extent than Rabbi Weiss. In his academic work for the past decade, he has explored how contemplative practices and perspectives may help us to understand and alleviate the stress of information overload and the acceleration of daily life.
Both authors, then, are teachers, spiritual directors, and practicing Jews. The religious and spiritual practices we explore in this chapter are ones that that we ourselves have engaged in and experienced. Because our backgrounds and practices are not identical, we ask the reader to understand that we have adopted the first-person plural—“we”—with consideration and care. In most of the issues addressed in this chapter, it is probably less important to know which of us has the greater experi- ence with a particular practice than that we both stand behind the asser- tion we are making. In certain cases, however, which will be clear below, we have found it useful to use “I” for both rhetorical and pedagogical purposes.
THE PRACTICES IN CONTEXT
It is challenging to summarize a long-standing and widespread reli- gious tradition such as Judaism in just a few words. But it might be said that Judaism’s central concern over the thousands of years of its existence has been in maintaining the sacred relationship between the Jewish people and God. Its central sacred texts, which include the Torah and the Talmud, recount the history of this relationship in its formative years and provide laws and guidance (called mitzvot, which we prefer to translate as “sacred obligations”) intended to maintain the vibrancy and sanctity of the relationship with the Divine. One of the central mitzvot, for example, obligates Jews to “love the Eternal your God, with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your might” (Deut. 6:5). Jews are told to speak this truth at all times, when they sit in their house and when they go out on the street, when they go to sleep at night and arise in the morning. In other words, they are to love God at all times. Many of the other laws and customs of Judaism reinforce the importance of fulfilling this sacred obligation in all areas of life: in their interactions with others, in their care of those less fortunate, in their responsibility toward the environment and natural world.
It needs to be said, however, that not all Jews—not even all practicing
Jews—observe all the mitzvot. Modern Judaism is divided into a number of “movements,” the best known of which are Orthodox, Conservative,
Reform, and Reconstructionist Judaism. These differ in a number of ways, including the extent to which they prescribe adherence to tradi- tional practices. The vast majority of American Jews, however, are unaf- filiated: they do not belong to any movement, do not attend religious services regularly, and observe few if any Jewish holidays. Such individ- uals may report that they are “spiritual” rather than “religious,” and to the extent that they recognize their Jewish identity, it may be more as cultural Jews (appreciating the food and the humor, for example) or in terms of a commitment to social justice, which remains a strong Jewish value.
Yet without question, Judaism’s rich treasure trove of practices has been a source of comfort and solace, strength and stability for thousands of years. Its texts, rituals, and daily practices have offered many people support in stressful and uncertain circumstances. One charming anec- dote illustrates this well:
Sam happened to meet his rabbi on the street one day, and told him of all the troubles he had suffered during the past year. He wound up with: “I tell you right now, rabbi, it’s enough to make a man lose his religion.” “Seems to me, Sam,” the rabbi told him quietly, “it’s enough to make a man use his religion!”1
Not all people, however, know how to “use religion” in a way that offers comfort and solace, strength and stability. Particularly in our modern, assimilated world, where many have been distanced, or worse, alienated from the rich resources that are a part of Jewish tradition, these texts, rituals, and practices may seem inaccessible or foreign. As Plante and Thoresen write, “The lack of skills in using spiritual prac- tices may be the single missing ingredient that inhibits the kind of spiri- tual growth that leads to better health and well-being”;2 this is as true for those in the Jewish community as it is for the broader population.
In our work as teachers and spiritual companions to others, we have had the opportunity and privilege of helping others gain access to these practices and make use of them in their own lives. In particular, it has been our growing understanding of what might be called a more con- templative approach to Jewish practice that has provided a valuable means to access the tradition in new ways. It is clear that a more con- templative approach can help bring about comfort and solace, strength and stability, and can reduce stress.
In this chapter, we will focus on three areas of Jewish practice: prayer, meditation, and Sabbath time. We could easily have chosen
three other practices, or three dozen examples of Jewish religious and spiritual practices. The tradition is vast, and many of the customs and rituals that make up Jewish life provide opportunities for adding meaning and dimension to life.
Each of the contemplative practices we discuss has a long and diverse history. For most of Jewish history they were embedded in a complete Jewish “way of life” that was largely inseparable from the larger Jewish patterns of day-to-day living. Today, except for the most Orthodox Jews, this is no longer the case, and in today’s consumerist society, many Jews are likely to choose certain practices and reject or ignore others.
Jewish prayer is a form of both verbal and nonverbal communion that can be used to praise, petition, thank, or simply communicate with God. In biblical times prayer was largely spontaneous and unscripted (the Torah records, for example, that “Isaac went out into the fields and prayed” [Gen. 24:63]). In time, these spontaneous prayers were recorded and collected, and eventually organized into a set order of specific prayers to be recited at three different times of the day. It is this form of prayer that is most familiar to Jews today. However, there are various places within the tradition where other forms of prayer are described and even encouraged. These include spontaneous prayers from the heart, recitation of a verse from the liturgy or Scripture, and personal kavannot, or introductory meditations. The contemplative approaches to prayer that we will discuss below are largely from this latter group.
Jewish meditation has a long, complex, and somewhat confusing history. The first problem is simply the meaning of the term meditation. An often-cited passage in the Talmud (Berachot 5:1) states that in prepa- ration for prayer the ancient rabbis used to “incline their hearts to God” for an hour. This is now taken as evidence that some form of preparatory meditation was practiced more than 2,000 years ago. Others have sug- gested that the Tetragrammaton, the Divine name spelled out with the four Hebrew letters Yod Hay Vav Hay (often indicated in Roman letters as YHVH), was the sound of the breath, perhaps providing some further evidence for the existence of a form of breath meditation. Today, espe- cially under the influence of Western Buddhist practice, a number of Jewish practitioners have rediscovered or reinvented a wide variety of forms of Jewish meditation, including meditating on a phrase or verse (mantra meditation), visual focusing on the letters of God’s divine name (YHVH), and chanting. In the section on meditation below, we will highlight a few of these approaches.
Finally, probably no practice has deeper historical or spiritual roots than the observance of the Sabbath. Genesis, the first book of the Hebrew Bible, states that God created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. From this came the understanding that Jews must emulate the Divine by themselves resting every seventh day. While the nature and extent of Sabbath practice differs widely today, the basic idea of separating one day a week from the hustle and bustle— and the stress—of daily living seems well suited for today’s 24/7 living.3 In our discussion of incorporating Sabbath time into our cur- rent busy lives, we suggest several contemplative practices that are based on traditional ways of observing the Sabbath.
DIMENSIONS OF THE PRACTICES
Before looking at the specific practices, we want to suggest that their role in health, well-being, and stress-reduction can be viewed and understood from three perspectives: spiritual or theological, physical or physiological, and emotional.
SPIRITUAL/THEOLOGICAL
Any particular practice may help the practitioner put life into a broader or more spiritual perspective. Various studies have shown that gaining a broader perspective is helpful in encouraging well-being and reducing stress. In their essay on meditation, for example, Shauna L. Shapiro and Roger Walsh write: “From a growth perspective, it is essential to learn ways to free ourselves from the artificial and unnec- essary limits we impose, as well as to learn to expand our world views. This liberation involves recognizing and letting go of old structures and boundaries and evolving to more complex worldviews.”4 We will see that various Jewish practices—such as meditating on a verse or line from Scripture, or observing Sabbath time—can help people experi- ence freedom from artificial limits and expand their worldviews.
At times a broader perspective is attained in a generalized way; it may entail a specific feeling or sense of God’s presence. In his article “Prayer and Health,” Kevin S. Masters writes that “persons who during their prayers felt like they were experiencing an interaction with God or had feelings of increased peace were also the ones more likely to report greater levels of well-being.”5 Indeed, cultivating a sense of
connection to God or God’s Presence is a core component of many Jewish practices: prayer, meditation, even Sabbath time.
PHYSICAL OR PHYSIOLOGICAL
Various studies have shown that spiritual practices create physio- logical changes or responses in the body, which by their very nature, reduce stress. In their article “Prayer as Medicine: How Much Have We Learned?” Marek Jantos and Hosen Kiat describe “the relaxation response,” one of the effects of meditation first characterized and named by Herbert Benson.6 “Meditation,” Jantos and Kiat observe, “is known to produce desirable physiological changes, such as slowed breathing, reduction in heart rate, a drop in blood pressure, peripheral warming, slower brain wave activity (marked by an increase in alpha and theta activity), and a hypometabolic state. People practicing medi- tation, irrespective of their religious persuasion, report feeling more spiritual and experiencing an enhanced sense of psychological and physiological wellbeing, peace and tranquility.”7 As we will see, a variety of Jewish practices, including prayer, meditation, and Sabbath time, can also create physiological changes in the body, leading to a state of well- being, a phenomenon that was noted by rabbis and teachers thousands of years ago.
EMOTIONAL
It is believed that religions and spiritual practices can also have a positive impact on our emotions. Jantos and Kiat write: “A third mecha- nism by which prayer is seen as exerting its positive impact on wellbeing is by means of the positive emotions it engenders.”7 One of the studies they cite is that of M. E. McCullough, whose research suggests that prayer improves mood and leads to a state of calm that extends to other areas of the life of the person praying.8 They also cite the work of Candace Pert, whose book Molecules of Emotion: The Science Behind Mind-Body Medicine lays out some of the effects of positive emotions in the body; and they observe that “positive emotions generate physiologi- cal changes that have far-reaching consequences on our health and well- being. The positive emotions of peace, joy, hope, faith, trust and love, associated with prayer, can lead to physiological changes affecting a person’s state of wellbeing.”9 Such emotions are fostered by a variety of Jewish practices, including prayer, meditation, and Sabbath time.
A CONTEMPLATIVE APPROACH TO JEWISH PRACTICE
What constitutes a contemplative approach to Jewish practice? Rather than starting by referencing what has been written on this topic over the ages, we prefer to illustrate it by drawing an example from our own work as spiritual directors and teachers. It concerns the use of a verse—“The Eternal is with me, I shall not fear”—as the subject of prayer and meditation.
Often in our work as spiritual companions, our directees (i.e., clients) come to the session frazzled from the stress of the day: their bodies are tense, their hearts are racing. Sometimes they are filled with anxiety, sometimes with fear; they may be coping with illness—their own or that of a loved one; they may be anticipating a major life change, such as a loss of employment or the end of a relationship. The stress is palpable— recognizable in their shallow breathing, their tense muscles, their rigid body posture.
In our role as spiritual directors, our job is not to fix, nor even neces- sarily to make people feel better—though often that happens as a result of this work. Rather, it is to help people see their lives or situations from a broader, spiritual perspective.
Most people who arrive with a high level of stress, anxiety, or fear have a desire—expressed explicitly or implicitly—to reduce their level of stress and live with a greater sense of peace, calm, or equanimity. When asked directly, they may acknowledge that they wish they could feel a sense of trust—in God, in the Universe, in Something Bigger— but they also admit that they do not have any idea how to access, or cultivate, such a sense. This is the opening for which we look and listen. It is an opening no bigger than the eye of a needle: the longing of the heart (or soul) for a connection to Something Beyond the Self. From a Jewish perspective, it is the longing for a life lived in relation- ship with God/The Mystery/Ein Sof. (Ein Sof, one of the Hebrew names for God, literally means “That Which is Without End.”) To live in this way is to live the contemplative life.
Though there are times that belief leads to experience, most often, we have seen, it is experience that leads to belief. And if experience doesn’t arise on its own, it can be invited, or perhaps better, awakened.
The following example illustrates this. It is based on a session one of us conducted with a directee who had entered the office feeling very stressed.
“I wonder,” I say out loud to the directee, “if there is a prayer or a phrase or some verses from a prayer that might help you feel that sense of calm or peace that you are seeking?” Many times, I haven’t thought consciously about any particular prayer or verses when posing the question; it is only afterward that something comes to mind. Some- times, the last four lines of a well-known prayer known as Adon Olam may come. It is a prayer that is traditionally said at the end of a service. (In some communities, it is also said at the beginning.) We don’t know for certain when the prayer was written or by whom; scholars believe that it is at least 1,000 years old. It has been a part of the service since the fifteenth century. During services, it is often sung to a very upbeat or even boisterous melody (perhaps because everyone is so relieved that the service is finally over!); as a result, the beauty and power of the words’ meaning is often lost. The last four verses of the prayer are quite beautiful; they suggest, almost more than any other verses from Jewish liturgy, the sense of trust that many of us long for—and the comfort that often comes with that trust.
“B’yado afkid ruchee”—“in His hand, I place my spirit.” I recite the first phrase to my directee. “Of course we know that God doesn’t have a hand and isn’t a He—it’s just a metaphor.” The person usually nods. “But can you imagine, for just a moment, placing your soul in God’s hand, in The Eternal’s hand?” I watch as the person shuts her eyes and brings the image to mind. “It’s such a beautiful image, isn’t it? Now .. . can you allow yourself to rest in it?” I continue gently. I watch as the directee’s breath becomes slower and her body begins to relax. “B’eyt eeshan v’ah’ee’rah—when I sleep and when I wake,” I continue translating. “Imagine what you would feel like, if you started and ended each day this way, allowing yourself to rest, for just a few minutes, in God’s hand.” “V’im ruchee g’vee’a’tee,—and with my spirit my body too.” The release of tension in her body is now visible. “Adonai lee, v’lo ee’rah—The Eternal is with me, I shall not fear.” I pause, and ask: “What would it be like not to feel fear?” My directee’s eyes well up with tears. “It means that no matter what happens, everything will be okay.” “Okay,” I repeat the word, knowing that it doesn’t neces- sarily mean that everything will be great, or even good, but simply that, on some level, against the larger backdrop of the greater Mystery of the world and of life, everything will be all right.
“Finally,” I then say, “I wonder if this is something you can return to throughout the day, when you are feeling stressed or anxious. Maybe you can recite these verses, which I’d be happy to write out for you, or perhaps you might just return to the image of resting in God’s hand.
Is this something that might be helpful?” She answers yes; our time together has given her access not only to Jewish Tradition, but also to God, in a new way. It is a way that is meaningful not only in terms of her Jewish way of life, but also in terms of specific practices that may help reduce her stress and, as a result, bring about a greater sense of peace and calm.
A life lived in relationship with Something Beyond the Self: for most people caught up in our rushed, overly busy, and stress-filled culture, this is an ideal that is hard to achieve. Many people assume that to live in such a way they must seclude themselves in a monastery or convent, or disengage from their daily routines by attending an extended retreat. And while these choices certainly can be helpful for some, they are not realistic for most. There are other ways that one can cultivate a more contemplative life, even in the midst of our ordi- nary, everyday activities. Indeed, in our work as spiritual companions and teachers, we have found three Jewish practices that are particu- larly helpful in cultivating the contemplative life: prayer, meditation, and Sabbath time. We now turn to these practices.
THREE JEWISH CONTEMPLATIVE PRACTICES
PRAYER
Traditional Jewish practice specifies that one pray three times a day: morning, afternoon, and evening (these prayer services are known as shacharit, minchah, and ma’ariv). Today, generally only those who are at the more observant end of the spectrum fulfill this obligation; most contemporary Jews probably do not pray at all, and only a small per- centage may set aside time for daily prayer.
Because people bring the real stuff of their lives to spiritual direction, and the stuff of life is, by nature, stressful, most people enter our office filled with stress. While the purpose of Spiritual Direction is not to alle- viate the stress, alleviating it and living with greater calm and equanimity is often part of the person’s longing or desire.
In our work as Spiritual Directors, then, we might ask in our first session if the person has any sort of a daily or regular spiritual practice. Most often, people do not. We ask if it might be reasonable to set aside some time, as little as five minutes and as much as an hour, for such a practice. Even a few minutes, particularly at the start and at the end of the day, we explain, can go far in creating a sense of greater calm or
equanimity, which can be accessed throughout the day. Together with the directee we think of what might be the most realistic time of the day to build it in, given the actual circumstances of their lives (family, work, etc.).
We have found prayer to be particularly helpful in leading to feel- ings of calm and equanimity. As Kevin Masters writes, “The English word prayer comes from the Latin precari meaning to entreat or ask earnestly. Curiously, this is the same root found in the word precari- ous. Indeed, many pray when life seems precarious and it is during times of illness or great need that prayer is perhaps most widely acknowledged and practiced. There seems to be an almost intuitive notion among people of faith in many cultures that prayer and health are related.”5
There are three prayers from Jewish tradition that we have found to be particularly helpful. The first prayer, part of the morning liturgy, is found in a section known as Birchot HaShachar, Blessings of the Dawn. Traditionally this prayer is said immediately upon awakening in the morning: “Modeh (modah for a woman) ani lifanecha: I am grateful before You, Sovereign that lives and endures, she’he’chezarta bi nishmati b’chem- lah, for you have restored my soul to me in graciousness, rabbah emuna- techa, great is your lovingkindness.” Though many Jews may, in fact, have grown up saying this prayer, most are unaware of its deeper mean- ing. They probably have always recited it in a rote or formulaic way.
We often begin with this prayer as a starting point for building a meaningful spiritual practice. The prayer can be said in just a minute, but its effects can last throughout the day.
We invite the directee to consider why the prayer might be recited immediately upon awakening. If they don’t know, we explain that upon awakening, a person realizes that she has not died during the night; on the contrary, she has been blessed with another day of life. Furthermore, we point out, the word nishmati, a contraction of nesha- mah sheli, my soul, is related to the word nishimah, breath: when we breathe in, we can become aware of our soul, the unique soul that is implanted within each one of us. As we then pause to become aware of the life-breath that flows through us, we also can become aware of the Ultimate Breath-of-Life, God/the Source, which has granted us the gift of another day. Often, as our awareness expands, the burdens which all- too-often weigh us down lighten, and our hearts somehow feel lighter, filled with gratitude instead. Gratitude is an almost guaranteed antidote to stress: when we take the time to become aware of the gift of life, of the life-breath that fills us, our breathing slows and grows deeper, our
“hearts” (in reality, probably, our muscle and nerve systems) become less tight, instead opening to whatever gifts the day may bring. This awareness may result in positive emotional feelings, which in turn may have physiological effects. As the feelings help reduce stress and anxiety, they can promote a more positive outlook, which in turn can strengthen the will to live life more fully, one more day.
We sometimes use a different prayer when the directee gives evi- dence of a negative self-image or depression, a prayer that can lead to a more positive self-image, and to feelings of acceptance and self- love. This prayer too comes from the section of prayers known as the Morning Blessings. “Elohai neshamah sh’natatah bi .. . My God, the soul that you have given me, it is pure,” it begins. This first line alone is sufficient to shift someone’s perspective. We invite the directee to become aware of his soul. This is something that most people have never even considered. “Think of your unique essence,” we might suggest, “the part of you that is uniquely you.” And then we repeat the words of the prayer, and encourage him to become aware, if he is able, of the pureness of his soul. “Separate from the layers of ‘stuff’ that we accumulate over the course of our lives, which result from our own behaviors or our personality flaws, Judaism teaches us that our soul is pure. And God knows that.” The tightness in his body begins to release; there is a letting go, a release. Again, we explain how in Hebrew the word for soul, neshamah, and the word for breath, neshimah, are related. Our breath connects us to our soul; every time we take a breath, we have the opportunity to remember the pure, precious soul inside us, the soul that also connects us to God. We sit patiently, watching as the directee’s breath gradually begins to flow more freely, and as the muscles begin to relax. There is a sense of acceptance and compassion; with these more positive feelings comes a softening of the heart, a release of the physiological tension that often accompanies self-judgment.
Finally, there is another prayer (actually a declaration) that we often draw upon in our work, the Shema. Often translated “Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One,” the Shema, we believe, is a statement of equanimity. It affirms that all—the good, the bad, and the ugly—are a part of the Mystery of Life, a part of the underlying Unity (One, in Hebrew, Echad) that is present in all existence. Tradi- tionally Jews recite the Shema morning and evening: when they rise up (u’vkumecha) and when they lie down (uv’shachb’cha) (Deut. 6:4–9). In the bedtime version of this prayer, there is an additional prayer that can be found only in traditional prayer books; for some unknown reason
many liberal prayer books have left it out. In this version, there is a para- graph in which the person reciting it forgives those who have harmed her, and asks forgiveness of anyone whom she has harmed. “Can you imagine saying this at the end of every day?” we ask, knowing what a profound spiritual practice forgiveness can be. The opposite—not forgiving—creates tremendous stress in the body: it leads to repressed anger, guilt, hurt—all of which are emotions that cause restriction, tightness, as opposed to expansiveness, openness. To forgive—even just to make the effort to forgive—makes the heart soften into a more supple state; that suppleness ripples out through the muscles, and stress is reduced. With forgiveness comes a letting go. Affirming the Unity of Life, and letting go of anger and hurt—what more profound spiritual practice could there be?
MEDITATION
Meditation in Jewish tradition takes many forms. In our work as Spiritual Directors, we have found several meditative practices to be particularly helpful in creating a more expansive consciousness, a deeper sense of peace and equanimity. Many people come to Spiritual Direction with an expressed desire to feel a connection to God more often throughout their daily lives, not only during the time in the morning or evening when they are engaged in some sort of spiritual practice. When we meet with them, we often explain the age-old prac- tice of meditating on a verse, particularly the verse from the book of Psalms: Shi’vi’ti HaShem L’negdi Tamid. “I place the Eternal before me always” (Psalms 16:8). Some do this by sitting in front of a wall hanging, known as a Shi’vi’ti, a traditional wall card, poster, or plaque with the verse from Psalms on it. Some of these wall hangings are elaborate works of art, with beautiful illustrations and other scriptural verses surrounding Psalms 16:8. The Hebrew letters of God’s name (YHVH) are often arranged vertically; they become the focus for visual meditation. Various teachings throughout the ages describe this practice: “Many people write the name YHVH on a piece of parchment .. . and keep it in front of them while they pray, according to the way of ‘I have placed the Lord before me always.’ And this brings awe of God into their heart and clarifies your soul to purity.”10 They then strive to keep the image of God’s name before them throughout the day, without any external visual aids. Visualizing God’s name encourages one to be aware of God’s Presence—in every
action, in every interaction. One delightful folktale tells of the holy Rabbi Yaakov Koppel Hasid of Kolomaya, the disciple of the Baal Shem Tov (the founder of Hasidism), who would repeat the line from Psalms at all hours of the day, nonstop. He would even repeat it during the hours of work and business. It is said that even the gentiles called him “The Shvittinik [the Shiviti person].”10 In our work with individuals, we might make a copy of a Shi’vi’ti that can be found in certain prayer books; we suggest they experiment with the practice of meditating on God’s Divine name as a means to remind them to strive to be aware of God’s Presence at all times.
Of course, one can enter into a meditative state without focusing on a particular verse, but rather, simply by immersing oneself in a con- sciousness of God’s presence or existence in the universe. Various great teachers from Jewish tradition spoke of this practice, known as hitbonenut. Following is one teaching of Moses Maimonides, the great thirteenth-century physician and philosopher:
What is the way to love and fear G-d? When a person contem- plates (hitbonen) His great, wondrous deeds and creations, seeing through them His boundless, infinite wisdom, he immediately loves, exults, and is ecstatic with a passion to know the great Name. This is, what King David meant when he said, “My soul thirsts for G-d, for the living Deity.” (Psalms 42:3)
When one thinks about these things, he immediately becomes awed and abashed. He realizes that he is but an infinitesimal creature, lowly and unenlightened, standing with his diminutive, deficient mind before the Perfect Mind. David thus said, “When I see Your heavens, the work of Your fingers .. . what is man that You consider him?” (Psalms 8:4–5)11
In other words, Maimonides suggests, by pausing and seeing beyond what appears on the surface a person can become aware of the various ways that God is or might be present: in any created object, in an event, in any experience of life. When he is able to do this, he will be filled with an awareness of God, and will realize his own minuteness relative to the magnificence of the Great Mystery of the Divine. His sense of self will recede, and his awareness of God will move to the forefront.
To help them imagine this state of consciousness, we might invite our directees to close their eyes and see themselves against the backdrop of the mystery of all life. We might ask if they are aware of God’s role in
that mystery, as well as their own place in it. Often they sink into silence, and we sit quietly together, humbly aware of the Mystery of Life of which they, and we, are a part.
Kevin Masters writes “persons who during their prayers felt they were experiencing an interaction with God or had feelings of increased peace were also the ones more likely to report greater levels of well being.”5 Indeed, we have found that from the meditative state that is achieved, whether through visualizing God’s name and becoming increasingly aware of God’s Presence, or sitting against the backdrop of the mystery of life, there often emerges a deep sense of calm and tranquility. With that sense of calm and tranquility often comes a letting go of the obses- sive concern with things that in our day-to-day lives seem so important.
SABBATH TIME
As noted earlier, the theological basis for Sabbath observance is found in Genesis: “The heaven and the earth were finished, and all their array. On the seventh day God finished the work that He had been doing, and He ceased on the seventh day from all work that he had done. And God blessed the seventh day and declared it holy, because on it God ceased from all the work of creation that He had done” (Genesis 2:1–3). This understanding has led Jews over the ages to emulate the Divine pattern and to abstain from all work from night- fall on Friday evening to nightfall on Saturday (the Jewish day begins at sunset). The English word “Sabbath” is a direct translation of the Hebrew “Shabbat,” which means “rest.”
Over the centuries there has been much discussion and debate about this apparently simple prescription. What exactly is meant by work, and what is meant by rest? Does work refer simply or primarily to physical exertion, or perhaps to paid labor? What about intellectual work? Does rest refer to the abstention from effort, or to leisure activ- ities? And what exactly is the purpose of the Sabbath? While it would carry us too far afield to discuss these points now, it is worth pointing to one traditional answer to the last of these questions. The intent behind Sabbath observance, the ancient rabbis suggested, is to cel- ebrate Creation. Jews, they argued, were to abstain from creative acts in order to savor and appreciate the created world—to enjoy it, as the following description points out:
Work can make man free, but one can also be a slave to work. When God created heaven and earth, says the Talmud, they went
on unreeling endlessly, “like two bobbins of thread,” until their Creator called out to them, “Enough!” (Talmud Chagigah 12a). God’s creative activity was followed by the Sabbath, when He deliberately ceased from His creative work It is thus not
“work,” but “ceasing from work” which God chose as the sign of His free creation of the world. By ceasing from work every Sabbath, in the manner prescribed by the Torah, the Jew bears witness to the creative power of God. He also reveals Man’s true greatness. The stars and the planets, having once started on their eternal rounds, go on blindly, ceaselessly, driven by nature’s law of cause and effect. Man, however, by an act of faith, can put a limit to his labor, so that it will not degenerate into purposeless drudgery. By keeping Sabbath the Jew becomes, as our Sages say, domeh l’Yotzero—“like his Creator.” He is, like God, work’s master, not its slave.12
One of the prayers from the Sabbath liturgy expresses this senti- ment well: “Those who keep Shabbat by calling it a delight will rejoice in Your realm. The people that hallows Shabbat will delight in Your goodness. For, being pleased with the Seventh Day, You hallowed it as the most precious of days, drawing our attention to the work of Creation.”13
Here then is an understanding, and a practice, that speaks to the stress of living in both the ancient and the modern world. For surely the work- ing day in all cultures, past and present, has been filled with the stress of physical and mental labor: continuously engaging in acts of creation and productivity, continually striving for achievement. The Sabbath is con- ceived as a day to let go of the willful striving for productivity; it is instead a day to appreciate the simple experience of being alive, to feel gratitude for the marvels and mysteries of the created world. Abraham Joshua Heschel’s well-known passage speaks to this understanding: “He who wants to enter the holiness of the day must first lay down the profanity of clattering commerce, of being yoked to toil He must
say farewell to manual work and learn to understand that the world has already been created and will survive without the help of man. Six days a week we wrestle with the world, wringing profit from the earth; on the Sabbath we especially care for the seed of eternity planted in the soul Six days a week we seek to dominate the world, on the seventh
day we try to dominate the self.”14
In our work as Spiritual Directors and teachers, we have found some of the traditional practices and customs of Shabbat to be a valuable
starting place for helping to create islands of calm in the otherwise hectic and hurried lives of our directees. Here are three simple prac- tices that can be used to create a few moments, an hour, or a full day of Sabbath time.
One custom practiced by more observant Jews entails going to a mikveh, a natural or artificial body of water in which one fully immerses, in preparation for the Sabbath. Short of going to a mikveh, one can simply wash in hot water. The following description, based on various traditional teachings, helps explain the benefits—not only physical, but spiritual as well—of this practice:
It is a traditional practice to wash in hot water before Shabbat. The hot water will change your body-feeling, removing any neg- ativity and the weekday “set,” and ready you for the renewal that comes with Shabbat. Bodily cleanliness also has a spiritual effect. It is hard to feel spiritually pure when you are physically unclean; conversely, being clean in body natural conduces to a feeling of spiritual cleanliness.10
For those who hope to incorporate some sort of Sabbath time into their lives, we might suggest that they prepare by taking a hot bath, allowing themselves to linger in the water for a while. As is reflected in the above teaching, water—particularly hot water—can have healing and transformative qualities. As they relax in the water, preparing themselves physically, spiritually, and emotionally for the sacred time they are about to observe, their muscles relax, and stress is released.
Alternately, for a shorter period, they might simply do a ritual hand washing, to delineate sacred time from ordinary time. Even symboli- cally, pouring water over one’s hands can suggest a release from nega- tivity or a sense of letting go of the past (stress) and opening to the future (a new way of being). We might suggest singing a lovely melody set to a verse from the Prophet Isaiah: “Draw water in joy, from the living well. Mayyim Chayyim. Waters of Life. Shalom.”
The second suggestion is based on the traditional practice of wel- coming the Sabbath by lighting candles. The flame of a candle is a universal symbol of God’s Presence, as well as of the soul and the spiritual; indeed, there is something transformative that can happen when one lights candles, demarcating one period of time from another. One teaching, for example, says “On the holy Sabbath, whose inner meaning is the spiritual elevation of all the worlds .. . the
Sabbath candles serves to symbolize the elevation of the soul and of holiness.”10 We might suggest then, that to begin a period of sacred time, whether an hour or a day, our directees light a candle and sit in front of it for at least a few moments, meditating on the flame, open- ing to God’s Presence, or simply sitting quietly.
Finally, the third practice comes out of the traditional understanding of the Sabbath as a time to abstain from working. Over the centuries, to decide what was permitted and what was prohibited on the Sabbath, the ancient rabbis had to grapple with what exactly constituted work (the word for work in Hebrew is melakhah). While the details of their understanding is mainly relevant for Jews who fully observe a traditional Sabbath, the underlying principle they came up with is more broadly applicable: on the Sabbath, Jews are to abstain from the ordinary, task-oriented practices of the workweek in order to remember and feel gratitude for the gift of God’s creation. Thus Grunfeld, referencing the writings of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, one of the foremost Jewish thinkers of the nineteenth century, writes, “Man .. . is engaged in a constant struggle to gain mastery over God’s creation, to bring nature under his control. By the use of his God-given intelligence, skills and energy, he has in large measure succeeded in this. He is thus constantly in danger of forgetting his own creaturehood—his utter and complete dependence on the Lord of all things. He tends to forget that the very powers he uses in his conquest of nature are derived from his Creator, in Whose service his life and work should be conducted.”12
Taking this principle into our work with directees, we may suggest that they create sacred time by unplugging for a period of time from all their devices: BlackBerry, computer, telephone, etc. For many this is a radical notion and takes some getting used to; it makes them realize that they do have some choice in whether they are always “on” or sometimes “off,” and forces them to confront their own addictions and attachments to these tools. We have found that for some, the prac- tice of unplugging is liberating, providing periods of quiet and calm.
THEORETICAL AND EMPIRICAL LITERATURE
There is an extensive and growing literature on the value of Buddhist meditation as a source of stress reduction and general wellness (see else- where in this volume). There is also an active literature that explores the efficacy of prayer, both from a specifically Christian and from a multi- denominational perspective. Yet as far as we know, there are no scientific
studies that have addressed specific Jewish practices of the form we have been discussing here.
A considerable amount of work, however, has been done over the last decade or two on the topic of healing from a Jewish perspective. This body of work may have some relevance for the subject of spiritual practice and well-being; as far as we know, however, scholarly studies have not yet been conducted. This would be an area that would be fruitful for further research and exploration.
APPLICATIONS
Our experience suggests that it is a select group of people who are drawn to a more contemplative approach to Jewish practice. But there are limited opportunities within the mainstream Jewish community for such people to study and experiment more deeply. Some more spiritu- ally oriented retreat centers do exist, and in addition to three or four programs training Jews in Spiritual Direction, there is also now an Institute for Jewish Spirituality, which introduces Jewish professionals (rabbis and cantors), and more recently, laypeople, to a more contem- plative approach to Judaism. This program is growing in popularity, and satellite programs are being offered at various places around the country.
It is currently hard to know to what extent this approach might be of interest to the majority of the Jewish population if it were to be more widely available. For such people, we would hope, there may be value in creating opportunities for ongoing learning and experi- mentation, as well as additional resources, such as this collection, for study.
CONCLUSION
The Jewish practices we have described in this chapter—prayer, meditation, and Sabbath time—are rich and multifaceted. While each of them clearly has correspondences in other traditions, the specifically Jewish manifestations we have discussed here have deep roots in Jewish history, texts, and culture. A Jewish person searching for solace, com- fort, and healing may well find it in non-Jewish practices; indeed, it is well known that many Western Jews now fill Buddhist and Hindu meditation halls well out of proportion to their representation in the larger culture. But there is a kind of healing that we have both
experienced and witnessed that occurs when one makes peace with one’s own tradition and is able to find sustenance through it. It is the rare individual who, when looking for peace and stress reduction, is likely to embrace a full Jewish life. It is much more likely that such an individual may adopt one or more of the practices discussed here, and gain some of what she is looking for not only through the techniques themselves but through the power of their connection to a vast and life-giving tradition.
REFERENCES
1. Schur, T. G. (1993). Illness and crisis: Coping the Jewish way. New York: National Conference of Synagogue Youth, 79.
2. Plante, T. G., & Thoresen, C. E. (Eds.). (2007). Spirit, science, and health: How the spiritual mind fuels physical wellness (p. 6). Westport, CT: Praeger.
3. Muller, W. (1999). Sabbath: Finding rest, renewal, and delight in our busy lives. New York: Bantam Books.
4. Shapiro, S. L., & Walsh, R. (2007). Meditation: Exploring the farther reaches. In T. G. Plante & C. E. Thoresen (Eds.), Spirit, science, and health: How the spiritual mind fuels physical wellness (pp. 57–69). Westport, CT: Praeger. See p. 60.
5. Masters, K. S. (2007). Prayer and health. In T. G. Plante & C. E. Thoresen (Eds.), Spirit, science, and health: How the spiritual mind fuels physical wellness (pp. 11–24). Westport, CT: Praeger.
6. Benson, H. (1975). The relaxation response. New York: Avon Books.
7. Jantos, M., & Kiat, H. (2007). Prayer as medicine: How much have we learned? Medical Journal of Australia, 186(10 Suppl.), S51–S53.
8. McCullough, M. E. (1995). Prayer and health: Conceptual issues, research review, and research agenda. Journal of Psychology and Theology, 23, 15–29.
9. Pert, C. B. (1999). Molecules of emotion: The science behind mind-body medicine. New York: Touchstone.
10. Buxbaum, Y. (1990). Jewish spiritual practices. Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson.
11. Kaplan, A. (1978). Meditation and the Bible. New York: Samuel Weiser, 132–138.
12. Grunfeld, D. D. I. (2003). The Sabbath: A guide to its understanding and observance. Jerusalem: Feldheim, 16–17.
13. Mishkan T’filah: A Reform Siddur (2007). New York: Central Conference of American Rabbis.
14. Heschel, A. J. (1985). The Sabbath: Its meaning for modern man. New York: Farrar, Straus and Young, 13.
CHAPTER 8
