Tag Archives: prayer

Blessings and the Small “i” in Gratitude

 

Gratitude is being present in order to experience awe

When we are truly present we experience something riveting. The timeless nature of the moment and the fleeting quality of time are simultaneously in our awareness, and in that, we experience a sense of awe. Our recognition of the Creator, the One who binds everything together, often moves us to mark the moment with a blessing.

When we say a blessing, we’re not blessing God. God does not ‘need’ our blessing, we need to bless. In participating in the act of recognition/blessing, we are acknowledging that God is the Source. The act of blessing, a form of gratitude, is supposed to change us. 

Blessing arouses the part within us that yearns for connection on a deeper level

Saying a blessing awakens our desire to connect with the Source. During the Amidah (silent prayer), the beautiful opportunity to express our gratitude comes before the conclusion and is known as “Modim Anachnu Lach”.  Here is a portion:

We are grateful to you as we recount your praises, for our lives are entrusted in your hand, and our souls are in your safekeeping–for your miracles that are with us every day, and for your wonders and good works that are with us at all times: evening, morning, and midday.

The term for Gratitude in Hebrew involves more than just a definition, it is part of who we are as a people (we are Yehudim, Jews, from the root word to thank).

There is a gift in knowing that we don’t take life for granted and as we pull our egos aside we allow ourselves to recognize the greatness of the moment. That very pulling away is alluded to in the parsha of Vayetzei, when Jacob dreams of Messengers/Angels going up and down a ladder to the heavens. God grants him an enormous and generous blessing. Jacob, upon awakening says:

” אָכֵן֙ יֵ֣שׁ יְהוָ֔ה בַּמָּק֖וֹם הַזֶּ֑ה וְאָנֹכִ֖י לֹ֥א יָדָֽעְתִּי׃”

“Surely the LORD is present in this place, and I, I did not know!”

It is a sudden awareness of God’s presence in the universe and as if to wake us up to that moment, there is an extra “I” [וְאָנֹכִ֖י]  in the text that is not necessary, since yadati [יָדָֽעְתִּי ] already means “I did not know”. What is the purpose of the additional “I”? What about our own selves prevents us from recognizing the obvious, that God is in all places?

When we are filled with ego, there is no room for awe

There have been many interpretations* of this verse, but the one I relate to the most is from the school of Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1787-1859) that says the first “I” represents our being filled with ourselves, our own ego.

As the recipient of his father Isaac’s chosen blessing, favored over Esau, Jacob’s importance inflated. In that state, he was unable to envision the nature of God in the world. That is the “I” that didn’t know God.

HaMakom – The Place and Everyplace

At the end of the dream, Jacob is aware of God’s presence everywhere. Jacob refers to “Bamakom” [ בַּמָּק֖וֹם ] meaning “in this place” and the word for place is used several verses earlier. Some commentators mention that it refers to Mount Moriah, the Temple Mount, where Abraham took Isaac to be bound.

Rabban Gamliel, in times after the destruction of the Second Temple 70 C.E., noted that even God can be found in a bush, as in Moses’ vision. That idea, that God is All-Encompassing and Ever-Present is embedded in the term we use for one of the names of God, “HaMakom“. God was as close to Jacob, appearing in his heart and mind, and occupying all possible space.

May we all merit the opportunity to experience a sense of awe, expressing our gratitude to our Source with a blessing for being alive at this time. 


Much appreciation to Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, author of God was in this place and I, i did not know where I first encountered ideas about the small “i” with its many interpretations and meanings.


Funny, I only hear from you when you need something

A little while ago, before you moved away, you had a very close friend. You spoke almost every day, and sometimes you finished each other’s thoughts. Often, there wasn’t even a need to say anything. You related to each other on a feeling level. If anything bothered you, you reached out. But time has passed, and your conversations are far fewer. You don’t share as much and so the details of daily life don’t seem as relevant. You pause before calling. You second guess yourself. When you do speak, the conversations are polite, but not as rich as when you spoke every day. How is that so? Wouldn’t you have even more to talk about now? But it doesn’t work like that. The more distance you have between times of connection, the more distant you feel.

The same is true of your relationship with God. It is difficult to muster up the emotional content you need to develop a relationship when you connect only a few times a year.

Prayer is about relationship. [Continue reading here…]


Seeing and Not Seeing: Hagar’s test

Photo by Elizaveta Dushechkina on Pexels.com

“Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went and filled the skin with water, and let the boy drink.”

This week we will journey deeply into just a few verses of the Torah portion Vayera [וַיֵּרָ֤א meanings include: appeared/fear/awe/saw]. We will see that almost all variations of this word have interrelated and complex meanings and in the Hebrew, there are numerous words relating to ‘seeing’ and ‘hearing’. As we study the text, it will prompt us to ask some pretty big questions.

In what ways do I acknowledge God as the Source? Do I see the miraculous every day, or am I blinded by my own security in the regularity of what’s around me? Is my relationship with God based on fear, awe, or a combination? Which circumstances prompt me to waiver in my knowledge of God? Continue reading here...

[I am in the midst of transitioning this blog to my new website, Inner Judasim and it is a longer process than I anticipated!]

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Your Inward Journey: Lech Lecha

The first step is often the most difficult.

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“One of the greatest religious problems is that people fear having a relationship with God and consequently distance themselves from Him.”

Sfat Emet (Rabbi Yehuda Aryeh Leib Alter, 1847 – 1905, who is known by this major writing).

In Genesis (B’reisheet, 12:1) God says to Abraham “Lech-Lecha” (לֶךְ־לְךָ֛), which is most often translated as “Go forth”. Technically however, the Hebrew meaning is different and contains layers of meanings that help us understand Judaism on a deeper level.

Abraham, as the first Jew, is the one who recognizes that there is the One great unifying force in the universe. He is told to leave everything he has known for a place that he knows nothing about.

Hebrew origins

The root word for Lech (לֶךְ) is where the word Halacha is derived, simply translated as “law” as in following or keeping Halacha, but in its essence it more accurately means ‘walking the walk’. Behaving as we need to.

So, on a basic level, Abraham is also told to walk, to continue on. To know that he is doing the right thing.

This has been our story as Jews. We move from place to place, sometimes willingly, sometimes under duress. We journey. We leave behind houses, belongings, tangible evidence of our memories. We move on and more forward.

When I was growing up, I often heard the term ‘wandering’ Jew, which was often used to describe the history of the Jewish people. This notion could not be more wrong. We haven’t wandered…beginning with Abraham and continuing with our leaving Egypt, we journey toward a destination. There is no mystery about what is leading us to go where we need to go. We are journeying toward wholeness, a state of completeness. This is a lifetime effort and only those who haven’t bothered to know their true calling are wandering.

The spiritual Hebrew meaning

Abraham’s journey will take him inward, the meaning of “Lech Lecha”..to go into yourself. Like Abraham, in order to make a substantial change in your life, you must leave the place you’ve been, turn inward to your inner voice, and then head out for an entirely new territory.

Doing so will allow you to be directed inwardly, but at the same time will allow you to be open to a higher Guide.

From your land

The very next words after Lech Lecha is mei’artzecha (מֵאַרְצְךָ֥) Abraham is to leave his land (artzecha, ארצך), which the commentator Abarbanel (1437 – 1508) says is one of the mitzvot that was commanded from the verse “Go forth from your land…”meaning that one’s soul leaves material things in order to fully realize the soul’s potential.

Artzecha (ארצך) is related to the word artziut…spiritually meaning your earthiness, your ties toward the material and mundane, your inclination to be rooted in the tangible.

May this Torah portion inspire you to seek your true path, to find wholeness….and to welcome HaShem as your Guide.

 

 

 


Add your light to the darkness

In the times of Noah, there was total lawlessness in the world. Just 10 generations (according to tradition) after Adam, the world is in a horrid state. 

Sometimes it is difficult to read through most of the parasha (portion) without a sense of despondency…despite the redemptive ending. 

The Notion of Lawlessness in our Texts

Throughout the expanse of our texts, the word for lawlessness, (חמס) takes on different shades of meaning, and it appears in the fifth book of the Torah, Deuteronomy, in an exhortation:

כִּֽי־יָק֥וּם עֵד־חָמָ֖ס בְּאִ֑ישׁ לַעֲנ֥וֹת בּ֖וֹ סָרָֽה׃

If a man appears against another to testify maliciously and gives false testimony against him…. [19:16]. 

We might infer from this usage that this tendency toward lawlessness does not have to be defined in terms that connote outright violence, but can involve intention for evil which is a more sophisticated form of wickedness. 

God created us with the capacity to have free will, and in the case above, our inclinations toward either positive or negative actions are often more subtle. Should I listen to someone’s opinion who differs from mine or not? Can I put myself in another’s place or not? Should I bother to speak up or not?

We know that it can be a daily battle as to whether we behave in righteous ways or not. Sometimes the decisions we make that have the most complex repercussions are the very ones we did not think too much about.  

But what do we do when society as a whole seems to be on the wrong course, headed towards evil in so many aspects? How can we bring in our own light to dissipate the darkness? What possible effect can small actions have on the greater whole? 

Can Evil itself be a Source for Good? 

Amazingly, there is a Kabbalistic tradition that evil itself can be a source for good. How is that so? How can evil, of the highest magnitude, flip into a positive source?

Again, how does the light pierce the darkness? This might help us understand: 

“…only a broken and disordered state of affairs such as we have in the world today can provide the optimal environment within which humanity can exercise the greatest spiritual, moral, aesthetic and intellectual virtues that truly make us a reflection of God.

The discordant, unassimilated, and antagonistic effects of both our personal complexes and the evil in the universe call forth our highest potentialities. It’s similar to how a road test for a car involves being put under the most difficult conditions to push it to its edge and elicit the limits of its performance capabilities.

This world is a perfect realm for the “road testing” of our souls. Humanity’s highest virtues are called upon when confronted by evil.” [Paul Levy : “Light Hidden in the Darkness: Kabbalah and Jungian Psychology”]

So, in what ways can you add your light to the darkness? The surest chance for you to experience an uplift is to select just one thing you will do each day to bring more light into the world.

The choices can be dependent on what you personally bring to the world, with your talents and God-given skills. It might be a phone call, a song you sing to someone, doing someone a favor, giving tzedakah (righteous giving)….the list is endless.                      

You probably are already doing some of these wonderful things. What I’m suggesting is that you do whatever it is you decide to do with intention. Next time, catch yourself…stop before you do a mitzvah and say a b’racha (blessing), that you are able to do this very action.

Say a blessing to HaShem for giving you the gifts that enable you to bring yourself into the world in this way. Doing so will increase your connection to God, and will be your own way of bringing the light into the darkness.


You can also visit me here, on my new website “Inner Judaism”


A corona Yom Kippur

 

If you would have asked me what words come to mind when I think about Yom Kippur, the word joy would never have made the top ten list.

Words like fasting, repenting, remorse, prayer, sorrow, self-blame, and even hunger would have been there, but never joy or happiness.

Why was this year different for me?

Perhaps in my own home, the solitude created the ripe environment for a deeper experience and I soaked it all in.

In this year of corona, I almost desperately needed to focus more intensely on my relationship to HaShem without distraction. I poured my heart out without wondering what others were thinking and for me, it was a unique type of grace that was afforded me.

I could daven (pray), as fervently as I wanted, with movements, chanting and song, being at one with the rhythm of my supplications.  I didn’t have to worry if my voice was too loud or off-key.

And then there it was. A sense of elation filled me up just before and during Neilah, (the closing prayer of Yom Kippur) and this experience was new. My feeling of joy was palpable.

For the first time I grasped emotionally what some sages refer to as a state of purity after being cleansed of sins.

I had a clean slate, and all the ways in which I came up short last year were magically wiped away. My struggles in trying to be a better person, often ending in disappointment in myself, were in the past.

Those struggles are not going away, and the challenges might even be greater for me in the coming year, but I have a new beginning. I am refreshed and feel stronger to wrestle again. I can be the director of a new script, and this time the outcome can change.

Like being subjected to a heavenly sanitizing spray and really good wipes, my soul would be sparkly and new.

More importantly, I would be able to forgive myself since God has hopefully, forgiven me.

While of course, my deepest desire is that we reconvene as community, I am grateful this experience of isolation gave me a new vision of Yom Kippur.

 

 

 

 

 

 


I needed to make the first move

It was not hard to take a back seat to my own spiritual growth.

As a youngster, I dutifully attended High Holiday services but felt that it was a pretty boring endeavor. The overwhelming feeling of formality blocked any emotional response on my part. The hazzan (cantor) chanted in an operatic voice, sometimes so dramatically, that it was actually jarring.

Synagogue was an ‘event’ that I was attending. There were all the trappings of a Broadway show: everyone was dressed up, there were ‘ticket takers’, ushers, and even assigned seats. Eyes faced front, and of course there was no talking or stirring.

Reading the list of sins that everyone was asking forgiveness for, did not apply to me. I knew that I didn’t steal or commit any major crimes, so I was even disconnected from my purpose in being there.

As I got older, things did not change too much and I can’t say that I matured spiritually. Again, I was hoping to “feel something” from just sitting in synagogue.  After all, I was where I was supposed to be, doing what God seemed to expect of me by fulfilling my part of the equation. I am not sure if I felt a sense of awe though what I did feel was a measure of comfort in listening to familiar melodies.

No one taught me enough about the prayers or their purpose for me to gain any meaning out of the experience. Sure, I knew how to repeat some of the words but never learned what they meant or their relevance to my life. No one talked about a relationship with God. “He” was there, I was here. That was that.

I don’t blame my Hebrew school or teachers, because really, was it possible to learn all that much in a six-hour a week enterprise?

I intended this to be a short post so I will cut to the part that had the most impact on me. It was learning that I was in charge of my own experience. I know that seems obvious, but it took me awhile to understand that I had to make the first move. God was interested in an ongoing relationship, not in my trying to connect in a one time event.

No service was going to ‘make me more spiritual’ or help me feel connected to the Jewish community. There is a deep and rich experience that is at the core of communal prayer. But I didn’t experience that, not then. I needed to make the effort to reach out and go beyond my self, my ego. How engaged I would be was my responsibility.

So I started to study and to learn. I’m still learning. I also needed to be comfortable with bringing God into my life.

As it turns out, that’s what is supposed to happen:

קָרוב ה’ לְכָל קרְאָיו. לְכל אֲשֶׁר יִקְרָאֻהוּ בֶאֱמֶת:

Karov Ado’shem L’chol Kar’av. L’chol Asher Yikr’u B’emet.

God is close to all who call out [to God] —to all who call with sincerity. [P’sukei D’zimra, Ashrei]

For sure, there are tools we can use to help us focus our thoughts and be present, and I will share some of those in future posts.

Learning about prayer is a helpful prerequisite. Knowing Hebrew is an asset, but for now, pre-Rosh Hashanah, call out to the One who needs to know you’re there.

 

 


If you are interested in pursuing any of the ideas above or other engagement strategies, please connect with me [ruthschapira.com].


when you need strength

Inspired by Psalm 46

God is our refuge and strength,

God will help us in our troubles,

God is near—as near as the air we breathe.

We can feel God’s presence in times of need…

Though the earth may change,

The mountains may rumble,

And the waters will evermore roar and foam,

God is within all and within us,

Forever giving us strength and a forever constant in our midst.

God is always—and though our world might be filled with life’s challenges

God is our rock and will give us strength.

                                                                                                                                                  


A #Jewish Philosopher’s Words on a Presbyterian Church

When deeper meaning transcends religion

When deeper meaning transcends religion

photo by: Ruth Schapira