Wherever We Let God In

Rosh Hashanah 5786

One day, Rebbe Baruch found his grandson crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “My friend and I were playing hide-and-seek,” he answered. “I stayed hidden for a long time, but I got tired of waiting. When I came out, I saw that my friend had gone home. He didn’t even come looking for me!” Rebbe Baruch embraced his grandson and tears rolled down his cheeks. “That is just what God says too. ‘I hide myself but nobody wants to look for Me.’”

This famous chasidic tale is a little silly, I admit, but it points to a problem that has challenged the Jewish people for generations: for most of us, God is hidden. We hear no voices from the heavens, encounter no burning bushes. If we want to encounter God, we have to seek God. Prophets and rabbis, mystics and scholars, and most of all, regular Jews throughout history have sought to come closer to the Divine through the essential Jewish practices of Torah study, worship, and the performance of mitzvot.  For many Jews today, though, a strange thing has happened.  Judaism and spirituality have become separate and, to some people, mutually exclusive.  Many spiritual seekers who grew up Jewish find modern Judaism devoid of spirit.  As Rabbi Wayne Dosick describes it,

After World War II, we built and maintained our new suburban synagogues and Jewish communal institutions to reflect our highly rational, intellectual worldview.  … We Jews became very successful at creating community, doing acts of social justice, saving oppressed Jewry, supporting the State of Israel, raising money for ‘good causes,’ building Jewish institutions, defending against discrimination, and, with a few notable and most lamentable exceptions, fulfilling Judaism’s ethical mandates….  But the one thing Judaism is supposed to do best, it rarely does at all anymore.  Judaism is supposed to help each person find the way to create a personal, intimate relationship with God; a life of cosmic meaning and purpose; a life of soul-satisfaction, true inner happiness, and deep-felt joy and fulfillment.^[1]

He goes on to argue that the spiritual emptiness of modern Judaism has driven many Jews away from synagogue life.  The large number of Jews who have been drawn to Buddhism or other Eastern spiritual practices is proof that for many, Judaism today does not provide spiritual nourishment. 

On the other hand, there are many Jews who are quite happy that modern, liberal Judaism is not focused on faith or spirit.  I have heard numerous Jews say they are glad that Judaism doesn’t require a belief in God. They find plenty of fulfillment in Jewish community, learning, or social justice work, and see no need for the spiritual aspects of Judaism.  The most extreme among this camp see spirituality as something reserved for the unsophisticated, self-obsessed, or just plain crazy, not for a rational, thinking, normal Jew. 

I want to suggest, though, that all of us who find Judaism meaningful can and ought to make room for spirituality, and that all of us who are interested in cultivating a spiritual life can find that path in Judaism.  Spirituality is not just for the mystics and the weirdos; it can be worthwhile and beneficial for all of us. 

First, we need a definition of spirituality: simply put, spirituality is the search for and connection to a transcendent and unifying power in the universe.  Spirituality means recognizing that there is more to our existence than the material, physical world.  It means connecting to something bigger and deeper than ourselves.  It means believing, in the words of Dr. Neil Gillman, “that the world does cohere and make sense.”^[2]  Or as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel puts it, it is to “feel the hidden love and wisdom in all things.”^[3] Spirituality isn’t the same as religious observance or even belief in a particular concept of God. It is an inner sense of relationship with the Divine, however we do or don’t define it. And spirituality is good for us. 

Spirituality leads to humility.  To connect to a Higher Power means, first, admitting that we are not that highest power, which takes humility. Allowing for the possibility that there are mysteries beyond our human understanding takes humility.  Appreciating the wonders of the world takes humility.  And without humility, there is no awe, no gratitude, no growth, and no real relationship.  A person who is full of herself doesn’t have room for anyone else in her heart.

Spirituality is also good for our health.  In a fascinating book called “The Spiritual Child,” Dr. Lisa Miller discusses scientific studies on the effects of spirituality on people, especially children and teens.  One of her most significant findings was that “spirituality has a clear impact on our mental health and thriving…. Spirituality is associated with significantly lower rates of depression, substance use and abuse, and risk taking…^[4]  Dr. Miller also found that when a parent and a child share similar spiritual beliefs, it has profound effects in protecting against depression in families with a high risk for depression.  She writes, “[If a mother and child] shared being spiritually oriented, and the spirituality was something that had been shared during the child’s formative years, then there was a protective effect that dramatically lowered the incidence of depression by 80 percent.”^[5]  Dr. Miller notes, as have many other psychologists and scholars, that “[R]esearch...shows that spiritual development is associated with positive emotions and qualities of thriving that include a sense of belonging, optimism, elevation, and a connection to ‘something larger’ that gives purpose and meaning to life….”^[6] 

Spirituality is not magic, of course, and believing in a higher power certainly does not protect us from suffering.  But as the High Holy Day liturgy reminds us, “Ut’shuvah, ut’fillah, utz’dakah ma’avirin et roa hag’zerah.  Through return to the right path, through prayer and righteous giving, we can transcend the harshness of the decree.”  Spiritual acts can help us to navigate and mitigate the severity of the evils we face.  In other words, spirituality enhances our resilience.  Lisa Miller tells this story:

I witnessed this most poignantly in a visit to meet with a mother, Sandra, and her

eight-year old son Jeremy, to talk about the boy’s loss of his best friend, Tom, who had been killed in a school shooting….  Sandra showed me the place in her home where she and Jeremy prayed….  Deeply devoted within a Christian faith tradition, the family had attended Sunday services since Jeremy was a baby and had shared every major religious holiday, Sunday service, and family picnic for five years with Tom’s family….  In the weeks and months following his friend’s death, Jeremy would return to the woods behind his home where they used to play, continuing their games, and at times pausing to talk to Tom.  His mother watched him from the kitchen window respectfully and would later ask, “What are you doing up there?”  Comfortably, expecting to be understood, Jeremy replied, “Being with Tom.”

As we sat talking at her kitchen table, Sandra explained that she and Jeremy had talked about… how he could continue a relationship with his beloved friend in this way.  The religious community, too, had come together in many different ways to lend support to the families who were touched by the tragedy….  Religious and spiritual engagement through their church has been especially helpful to her son, Sandra said.  “We moved to this community seven years ago to raise Jeremy and to be part of the church here.  It has made all the difference in the face of Tom’s death.”  Leaning forward, she added, “Build your ark before it rains.”^[7]

Build your ark before it rains.  When we develop a spiritual life, we give ourselves a foundation, a sense of grounding and connection to something outside ourselves.  Then even when tragedy strikes and our lives are turned upside down, we still have that foundation to hold onto, that compass to reorient ourselves.  As the Psalmist says, “God is our refuge and stronghold, a help in trouble, very near.  Therefore, we are not afraid, though the earth reels, though mountains topple into the sea…” (Psalm 46:2-3).  Jobs can be lost, health can deteriorate, people can be cruel, death can come too soon.  But God, or Spirit, or Love, or whatever you want to call it, endures.  Developing a connection to that power gives us strength when we need it.  Rabbi Harold Kushner writes, “One of the things that constantly reassures me that God is real, and not just an idea that religious leaders made up, is the fact that people who pray for strength, hope and courage so often find the resources of strength, hope and courage that they did not have before they prayed.”^[8]

Spirituality also engenders compassion.  We might think of the spiritual seeker as self-focused or otherworldly, the Buddhist monk sitting by himself on the mountaintop, but spirituality at its best increases compassion and concern for others.  If our spiritual exploration teaches us that we are all connected in an intricate web of life, that something transcendent creates and sustains all of us together, that we are all in some sense One, then the more we attune ourselves to that Spirit, the more attuned we will be to the needs of our fellow beings.  Rabbi David Wolpe writes, “One of the lessons of spirituality that Judaism teaches is that spirituality is not a solitary affair.  True spirituality means a relationship with other human beings and with God.  Spirituality is expressed in the bridges we forge with others from the center of ourselves.”^[9]  As we learn to pay more attention to our own souls, we will also be motivated and able to connect with others in a deep way.

Growing in humility, resilience, and compassion.  If any of this sounds appealing, then the next question we might ask is, of course, how?  How do we grow spiritually, especially if we are not naturally inclined to do so? 

There are common spiritual practices of meditation, yoga, chanting, and drumming, all of which you can find in Jewish settings.  The advantage of exploring these practices in a Jewish context is that they employ the texts, stories, and values that might best resonate with we who are Jewish or attached to the Jewish community.  But the most obvious spiritual practice of all is prayer. Whether you offer spontaneous personal prayers, say blessings before eating or doing mitzvot, or come to shul to worship in community, praying to God is one of the best ways to get to know God. If you’d like to explore your prayer life but don’t know where to start, please come talk to me!

And if prayer, meditation, yoga, chanting, or any of the other common spiritual exercises are just too “New Agey” or out-there for you, good news – you can still develop a spiritual life!  Here is a list of other not-too weird, not-too hard practices you might try:

Be quiet. The Psalmist says that “To You, God, silence is praise” (Ps. 65:2).  Taking time by ourselves, without smartphones and televisions, away from the demands of work, family, and everything else, allows us to go in search of our souls.  When we strip away the chatter, both internal and external, there is space for something deeper to be heard.  “T’hom el t’hom korei – deep calls unto deep” says Psalm 42.  In silence, we allow our spirit to reach for the Spirit of the universe.

Breathe.  All of the words in Hebrew that refer to spirit or soul -- ruach, neshamah, nefesh -- are connected to the words for breath.  By taking time to simply notice our breathing, we remind ourselves that a) we are alive and b) it is awesome to be alive.  We can give thanks for the breath that gives us life, and imagine that same breath or spirit giving life to all creation.

Find ways to experience awe.  Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel argues that “awareness of the divine begins with wonder.”^[10] This is why so many people find it easiest to have a sense of spirituality in nature.  When we’re standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon or looking out at the ocean, we notice that the natural world is literally wonder-full.  Nevertheless, it is easy to overlook or take for granted these wonders.  So we have to seek out moments to be in awe wherever we can find them.  Listening to a magnificent symphony, studying an elegant mathematical proof, looking at a perfect blade of grass, watching Steph Curry make an impossible three-point shot, these can all be awe-inspiring and spirit-nourishing experiences. As Rabbi Heschel explains, “Awe enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infinite significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.”^[11]

Bring Jewish rituals into your life.  Ritual is, in the words of Rabbi Daniel Gordis, “the forum for expressing all the sentiments and moments that make up spiritual living.  Ritual is the space that we make for feelings.”^[12]  Rituals work because they tap into something inside us that is beyond language and beyond our own rational thought.  Rabbi Gordis gives the example of the bedtime ritual of reciting the Sh’ma with our children before bed.  “What makes going to bed such an important moment for parents and children is that in a few short moments we communicate more love and devotion than we often can during the rest of the day….  Our children sense the different pace of bedtime, and they respond to it.  With questions about the world, about life, about meaning….  Even if our kids are older, they still sense that this is the time of day when they can be more open; this is the time when security, intimacy, and closeness are close at hand….  The kiss on a child’s forehead as they drift off to sleep says more than words ever could.  When that kiss follows a Jewish moment, then we’ve told our kids that being Jewish is also about warmth, comfort, security, and love.”^[13]  If you don’t have children at home, try sharing the bedtime Sh’ma with your spouse, or make it a meaningful private ritual of “letting go” at the end of the day.  Rituals speak to the soul.  Even if we don’t think we speak the language, our souls will understand.

And finally, keep trying.  For many of us, being “spiritual” is not an innate ability but a skill that takes training and practice.  Most of us will never experience a mystical union with the Divine or achieve even close to perfect faith.  But little by little, we can refine our spiritual vision and find more moments of connection with the transcendent. The chasidic master known as the Kotzker Rebbe was once asked, “Where does God dwell?” He answered, “Wherever we let God in.” In this new year, may we all find new ways to let God in.

^[1] “The State of the Faith” in The Jewish Lights Spirituality Handbook, Stuart M. Matlins, Ed., 17-18.

^[2] “Seeing the Invisible” in The Jewish Lights Spirituality Handbook, Stuart M. Matlins, Ed., 61.

^[3] God in Search of Man, Chapter 4, “For Thy Continual Marvels”

^[4] The Spiritual Child, 38.

^[5] Ibid. 87.

^[6] Ibid. 38.

^[7] Ibid. 153. 

^[8] When Bad Things Happen to Good People, pg. 172.

^[9] Why Be Jewish? 10-11.

^[10] God in Search of Man, Chapter 4.

^[11] Ibid. Chapter 7.

^[12] Becoming a Jewish Parent, 47.

^[13] Ibid. 49-50.