Torah...more than a handful

Ok, so there's 613 mitzvot (commandments) in the Torah, so I thought I'd start there as I began the thought process on what Torah means to me. WHOA... I am much farther off base than I thought! While I've pretty much nailed down honoring my folks, I've never had relations with a relative or an animal (ewwww), and I almost never take revenge on someone (unless they really deserve it), pondering the remaining 610 made me nauseous; I am for sure going to hell.

But the written laws of the Torah are not what connect me to Judaism and spirituality. The connection for me is that Jews all over the world are bound by this book. It is the historical stories in the Torah and how they relate to my life, right here, right now. It is the songs that were derived from those stories that make me feel spiritual. Sure, I feel a little spiritual when I am living righteously, but the laws that govern my life are those that have been passed down from my parents and grandparents, my friends, classes I have attended, teachers I admired, and by society itself.

My Take on the Torah Being Spiritual

A powerful moment in my spiritual existence is when I get to hold or see the Torah. That fact that it brings a community together is my major take on its spiritual existence. Whether or not it is the actual word of G-d is moot to me, since its power to me is to see a congregation get excited as it passes around the room and solidifies the common bond we all have in our religion and community. A side note is the time we were allowed to take the Torah home with us to keep it safe during the high holidays a few years ago. I felt our house was truly safe those nights it was here, and how reverent I felt having such a text so close by.

Also, learning Torah is another interesting opportunity to see it be used as a tool for us to guide us on our spiritual journeys. It is boggling how may interpretations one verse can have and that we are allowed to challenge what is actually being said and be allowed multiple interpretations.

To continue my thought about how much I care if the Torah is actually the word of G-d. I don't get wrapped up in proving its divine creation, but I do think about powerful it would be if it truly is a sacred text crafted by a power beyond our imaginations and then handed down from generation to generation. I am also struck by how it provides some basic rules of order for us humans to get along and if all humans could follow its basic tenants, the world will be a much better place! Finally, it is interesting to me that all the modern Western religions trace their roots back to Abraham, Moses and all the other characters in the Torah and these basic rules of order carry through in these other religions as well. Obviously, someone wrote down some good ideas about how to live a good life that continue to resonate today, whether Jewish, Christian, Mormon, etc.

Touching Torah

My grandma Sara taught me by example how to be a "good" person. She also, through her genetic (arthritic) legacy, gave me a crooked finger. I love my crooked finger as it always reminds me of her. In fact, when my daughter, Joanna, was born, one of the first things I noticed was that she inherited a crooked finger too! Seeing, holding and touching torah remind me that I am part of a chain of people who have passed down more to me than just my genes. When I am near a torah, I think of my grandparents, and their parents, and their parents' parents and how each previous generation risked persecution and death in order to pass down the teachings of our people. In this way, the presence of torah makes me feel like a part of a bigger picture. Like I am connected, or standing on the shoulders, of the ones who came before me.

This year, before starting Jewish Education classes at Melton, I actually read through just about the entire Tanach. It was fascinating as I was able to do it without any outside commentary or input. I could take the words as they were written (or at least interpreted by JPS) and make my own conclusion about what message the writer(s) meant to convey. My impression of the torah was harsh! It was filled with pervasive repressive, hateful, divisive, violent and vengeful stories. This has certainly impacted me (in ways I am sure future blogs will address) but the current result is that I do not find much to feel spiritual about when I think of the torah as a "contract" for the Jewish people. Hopefully as my studies continue, I will find the inspiration in its messages. So I guess the bottom line for me (at this moment in time, anyway) is that most of the torah's content doesn't feel very spiritual to me, but it's presence feels like an integral part of me . Kinda like my crooked finger.

Spirituality and Torah

I was still thinking about my own spirituality when Rabbi posed this question about Torah. For me there is a linkage between the two and I'll try to explain.

I grew up very, very Reform, without Shabbat, a Bat Mitzvah, Hebrew, and with only very basic holidays. And no real God. I spent years wondering what this was all about and what was God anyway? In ninth grade, our temple was part of the Haverot Noar program, six weekends of camp throughout the year, and weekly, rather intense, religious school. For me this was a turning point. It cemented my faith that only grew when I went to Israel for 6 weeks in high school. My Jewish identity was now solid. But the question of God was still murky. I even went to church with my friends just to hear them talking about God. What eventually happened is that I began to talk to people in various 12 Step programs about their Higher Power. Did God really care about me? Didn't He have better things to do than listen to my prayers, my problems?

What I've learned over the years is that my God does listen. And I get to talk to Him regularly. Now I have my Jewish faith and identity and beliefs. Not only on holidays but every day. And I feel solid in it, confident that I have a God, a Jewish history and a Jewish future.

One time I feel most spiritual is when we study Torah on Saturdays with Rabbi Julia, and those wonderful interns who came before her. I've so loved those sessions. They feed me with our people-hood, stories, quirks and questions. I want to do more reading of our Books and do the study that I love, even on my own. I want to know more. I also love to hear Rabbi's stories and to know how others apply our Judaism in their lives. I believe that Torah is the key, that it has formed who we are as Jews, where we came from and gives us guidelines for living. Certainly not all of the laws are applicable to my life, but understanding them enriches it.

I love doing Shabbat dinner with my family, or with friends, as well as holidays. I always want to increase my Jewish observance, each year reaching deeper for more understanding, practice and joy. Torah is where that all comes from. I felt incredibly blessed at my son's Bar Mitzvah's holding the Torah, and each time I get to take a blessing from it. I wish I could read it too, one day I will. I hold it as sacred, and feel that without Torah, we wouldn't be Jews. And that would be a catastrophe for us and for the world. I'm always amazed that non-Jews have such a regard for the Bible, and study it, know it through and through, and yet, I don't. I don't think it was emphasized enough in my youth, and that I am poorer for it. Part of what I think we need is the struggle to understand it, and to continue to disagree with it, to study it, to debate about it.

What holds us together as Jews if not Torah? Passover observance? Jewish life-cycle events? Not a belief in God as many Jews don't believe. Torah is our literature, our history, our system of beliefs, our holidays, our reason for being Jews. Jews have died for Torah and I think that we need to maintain it at all costs as a value in our lives. It is who we are.

Is Torah Spiritual?

To me, Torah presents the morals and ethics of our people. Do I find spititual connections in Torah? I do. The feeling of spirtuality for me is in the connection to what has come before me. The people, places and struggles inscribed in the Torah are a behavioral and ethical road map for me. I seem to face many of the same human struggles that are written in the five books. The emotions, behaviors and actions of the past has a profound effect on me today. I do find spirtual connection in the stories and lessons of the Torah.

Last Night, Standing there at Sinai, I Received Torah Again

What is Torah to me? How does it touch me spiritually?  

Last night, I stood there at Mt. Sinai, as the shofar sounded, the lights twinkled brightly, my heart shook, and we again received Torah from the Holy One.  Time morphed as simultaneously I found myself in our sanctuary in 2010 and at the foot of the holy mountain 3000+ years before. I stood with our congregation at the same time as I stood with our post-Exodus people.  That's what it means, I think, to be Jewish. So simultaneously in the present and in the past, all the while looking forward to the future. That's what happens to me on Shavuot, our holy day of matan Torah, receiving the Torah again and again. 

In the Rosh Hashana morning service (in our Sha'arei Am machzor), I love the poem that articulates the mystery of Torah as the juxtaposition of a mundane human creation and eternality:

Two wooden sticks, the skin of a kosher animal and some chemicals mixed together. That’s all it takes to make a Torah.
That and four thousand years of wandering, searching, learning, following, leading, loving, and blessing.

Two wooden sticks, the skin of a kosher animal and some chemicals mixed together. That’s all it takes to make a Torah.
That and four thousand years of teaching, hoping, remembering, planting, praying, praising.

That’s all it takes to make a Torah.
That and four thousand years of living with God.

Torah for me is humanity striving for holiness, for godliness. 
Torah for me is the Holy One striving to guide us toward goodness.
Torah for me is a plan for partnership between the Holy One and our holy people. 

What's Torah for you?

Spirituality.....Am I or Am I Not?

Been ruminating about this topic for 2 weeks now; how do I define spirituality and when do I feel it. Did I feel it when I was a child? I attended Hebrew school and Sunday school, was a Bat Mitzah and as a family we attended services for the High Holy days and celebrated Passover and Hanukkah.
I always felt a connection to Passover. Was it because it was a pivotal moment for the Jewish people or just the memories of my beloved Grandpa leading the service?
I walked away from Judaism immediately following my Bat Mitzvah when I had the choice whether or not to participate. Did I feel spiritual then? Was something missing?
Went back to the Temple to be part of the confirmation class. Was that a feeling of spirituality or just the fact that I enjoyed the challenges of learning?
Left conventional Judaism behind until Abby was a toddler. Suddenly it was important to give her knowledge about being a Jew. This was something we had to live, to experience and to have in our lives. Luckily Brad and I have similar feelings about Judaism and God and we found ourselves drawn to the Family Service at the Rec Center. We loved the lightness of the Rabbi and Cantor, and how it appealed to all ages. Most of all we loved that it was a change from the seriousness of the Judaism of our youth. Was that spirituality? Or just enjoying being together as a family?
So here I am on the quest to define spirituality. Do I feel more spiritual now that we are part of a Temple? That's an easy "yes" if for no other reason than it's in my conscience. I am aware of it. Do I feel spiritual when I'm participating in religious experiences? Truthfully, most of the time it's rote and automatic. The times I feel most spiritual are when we are in an outdoor setting. There's something about the awesomeness of nature and the chanting of ancient words that puts me into a spiritual nirvana.
To me spirituality is transcending; tapping into a higher level. It needs to involve my brain along with a variety of senses. I have definitely been more spiritual and more aware of it in the past 3 years. I strive to let go of the clutter of life and focus......and transcend.

God, Me and You, Sitting around a Campfire

Cross posted on Or Am I?

We celebrated Shabbat around a campfire in Old Agoura tonight. 210 of us in a circle, singing, smiling, praising the Holy One.

Is it really Jewish to feel so inspired out in the open? Sitting under the stars? Gathering around a campfire?

Moses was inspired by flames dancing in a bush in the wilderness. Why are we?

A story...

When the most spiritual of rabbis wanted to speak with the Holy One, he would go out to the forest, to a special place known only to him, where he would sing special words to a particular tune, and by doing so, open his conversation with the Holy One.

Over time, his students forgot where exactly in the forest he would go, but they still felt the need to commune with the Holy One. So they would gather somewhere, build a fire, sing those special words to his particular tune, and open their conversation with the Holy One.

Then, their students lost their connection with the words that opened the conversation, but they knew how to build a campfire and how to sing song. So they gathered somewhere, built the fire and sang.

As the generations passed, they forgot to go out into nature. They forgot to build the campfire. They forgot the words. Some even forgot to sing. But still, they yearned. For something inspiring. For a connection to the Eternal.

So at Or Ami, we reignite the spark within, as we sit around a campfire. We sit under the stars, because we recognize that the Holy One is most often felt amidst the wonder of the natural world. And we sing ancient words to new melodies because the music and the experience touches our soul.

The Long Road

I was born a poor Presbyterian.

Ok, that's using a little dramatic license. Although, my grandmother was born in the Kentucky hills and moved west by horse drawn carriage, and my father in a logging camp in central Washington State, by the time I came along my father's hard work ethic and ingenuity made our family far from poor. I was however, born a Presbyterian. I remember attending church and Sunday school regularly at a very young age. That stopped around age 5, not long after we lost my older brother in a car accident when he was a freshmen in college. It seemed that my parents had lost "faith". As a teen I struggled with the dogmatic idea of god as I perceived it from christian based teachings and questioned how one group's beliefs could be the one truth and path to heaven or hell, when there were so many others in our world. I did not believe in GOD.

Sometime when I was about 14, I was in the High Sierra back country on our family's annual spring camping trip. One day while sitting naked and alone on a riverbank, next to a natural hot spring which looked over a large open meadow, I felt the warm sun drench my skin, and that's the moment I discovered God. You see, at that moment I felt the warmth of the sun, I looked at the pure beauty that surrounded me from the grass I sat on, to the trees and the majestic mountains beyond on the horizon. I listened to the wind blow through the surrounding forest, the sound of the stream flowing beside me, and the birds calling at each other from vast distances. It was at that moment that God was released, for me, from the dogma. God was not a being, a spirit, someone pulling the strings, deciding who lives or dies, God was a place, the place I was at that moment, God was surrounding me.

Fast forward 30 years

(more on my journey to Judaism another time)

At high holiday services this past fall (2009), Rabbi Kipnes spoke of a place in one of his sermons. HaMakom the Rabbi explained was "The Place", was God.

http://rabbipaul.blogspot.com/2010/04/unchain-your-faith-one-rabbis-radical.html

This was a revelation to me. Although a few years prior our children had brought Judaism and spirituality back into our lives, I had never revisited that initial connection I had with God on that day 30 years earlier. On this day, in the Calabasas Community Center, "The Place" came back to me. The thoughts this provoked were profound, however short lived, I soon reentered the daily grind of the job, and our family's hectic schedule, leaving little time for spirituality. On February 27th that all changed, when I lost my soul mate and wife of 20 years to a tragic accident in the very same mountains that I had first found God. In the days, weeks and months that have now passed I have been on an amazing spiritual journey that started at "The Place", with HaMakom.

Today I find my heart and mind in a very peaceful, accepting place, where I can feel the loving presence of Erica and the joy that she brought to mine and so many others' lives, because she is now part of "The Place", of God.

Every day I wake with the rising sun and look forward to my continued path of spirituality, learning, sharing and understanding more with every step. I anticipate this to be a life long journey which will continue to bring joy and peace to my life, and hopefully our children's, in our place here on earth.

I find HaMakom within.

I'm Not There Yet

I've been seeking Jewish spirituality for years now, but I don't feel spiritual. Although many of my friends think I'm the most Jewish person they know, I know my inner self and it isn't nearly as spiritual as I'd like. I've actively sought it in classes I've taken and classes I've given. I've gone to weekend Institute for Jewish Spirituality seminars. I've led a couple of Shabbat services. I've read the Torah about 5 times. I can argue effectively about the existence of G-d and about my purpose on this earth. I do, very rarely, look at a crowd of people (as I did in a Costco last week) and try to see the devine and the face of G-d in each of them.

However, I don't keep Shabbat. I don't look forward to the Jewish holidays. I take the name of the lord in vain when I miss a 3 foot putt (and other times). I don't keep kosher. Most days I forget that I'm Jewish. Most days there is no spark and no light in my life.
What do I need to do to get spiritual?
Why is it so hard?

Maybe I'm trying too hard.
I like the idea from Heisenberg, who says that when we look too closely at something, we can't see it because we, ourselves, interfere with seeing it. I also remember a talk that R. Mordechai Finley recently gave where he said that people should stop seeking happiness. He said that serving others and doing good deeds is the only way to real happiness. I'm also reminded of the words of the great New World Jewish scholar Rapki (R. Paul Kipnes). I was taking a "Jewish Spirituality" class with him about 15 years ago. I told him I was having a hard time believing in G-d. He told me not to worry. He said to just try to live and act "as if there was a G-d" and to see what happens.
OK. Good. I'll relax a bit. Let's see what happens.
I'm still waiting.

Seeking Spirituality Got Me in Deep Doo Doo

I was always the kind of kid who did what I was told and didn't argue or ask why. I went through the motions (and drudgery) of Hebrew school, had a Bat Mitzvah, then Confirmation/Hebrew High where I was elected Head Girl...whatever that meant. It was all social for me; no real depth to anything I did that was related to Judaism.
When I was 14, I began to "stir the pot" if you will. I became somewhat rebellious and thoroughly enjoyed straying from the norm. One of our Confirmation teachers was a woman very different from any other teacher I had ever had. She believed in things of a psychic nature and I was mesmerized by the kind of teaching she offered. She invited a small group of us students over to her house, which, in today's world would have been a BIG no-no, but I wanted to do it, and besides, my boyfriend was going too, so how could I miss out? She had this cool machine that she said would measure our energy force. We each put our hands on the glass of this machine and the resulting picture showed a thin halo of light around our fingerprints. WOW, I was impressed! Then, as a group, we said a few Jewish prayers and listened to some quiet music and then we let the machine take another photo of our fingers. This time, to my amazement, the halo of light was twice as thick and much brighter than the picture taken earlier. Our teacher explained that prayer and music were very powerful forces that have a deep effect on our spiritual being. I had NO clue what she was talking about then, but now I know it as being my first bout with spirituality. I came home from that session and was so excited about what I had learned that I blurted it all out to my mom and dad. With raised eyebrows, they looked back and forth to each other and I knew they were not happy nor comfortable with where I had been nor what I had learned with this teacher. My mom called our rabbi the very next day in addition to forbidding me to go to the teacher's house ever again. But I went...again and again...something new and very exciting was opened up in me.
Time went by and I was in college. I went to the Hillel house on campus and had a Jewish boyfriend, but other than that, my spiritual connection was dormant as I concentrated on my studies. When I was a Junior, a group of my girlfriends decided we would try out a program at Aish Hatorah where young adults were brought together for discussion and learning. We all enjoyed it, not for the learning, mind you; there were some really cute boys that came to the weekly meetings! After a few months, I became friends with one of the rabbis at Aish and was invited to a "Discovery" weekend. I was told that all my questions about God and spirituality would be answered. I called my mom to tell her I was going away for the weekend and explained to her what it was all about. My rabbi got a call from her just moments later.
As I write this, I am chuckling to myself picturing her calling my rabbi to tell him there must be something wrong with me that I was continually looking for answers about life, my religion, myself. Isn't that what we're supposed to be doing while we're here? But my parents saw things differently, and therefore my first attempts at seeking spirituality got me into trouble. But I am thankful for my psychic teacher and for Aish and for anything else that has touched my life and made me aware of the spirituality within me. It ebbs and flows now that I am an adult. There are times when I feel like a zombie, going through life without really feeling anything, without really participating wholeheartedly. And there are other times when I feel like I am truly on the path that was intended for me. The spirit in me, that little slice of God that lives within the walls of my body is alive and kicking and tapping me on the shoulder saying, "Keep it up...you're heading the right way...don't veer off the path." I get this feeling when I sing my kids the Sh'ma before they go to bed, I feel it in temple when the congregation is praying and singing together, and I feel spiritual when I wake up in the morning with a smile on my face, ready to conquer the day. Heck, I'm even feeling it as I sit here writing.

Really excited to take part in this blog and learning more about you all!

Seeking G-d

I was so flattered when Rabbi Kipnes asked me to join this blog, but mostly I was amazed that he though I might actually have something interesting to say!
I am participating because it's an honor to do so, and because I have learned that it is in the seeking of G-d that I find any serenity at all.

I come by spirituality by accident; by survival really. There came a time in my twenties, when my back was against the wall, death was staring me in the face, and I had to make a choice: find a reason to be here, or leave. It was then that I began what is now a 20 year journey along a spiritual path. My journey has been anything but smooth, but I continue on it, nonetheless. I have no choice.

I feel spiritual when I can't take one more step; when I can't show up for one more person, or one more responsibility, or even one more day. Then from somewhere either deep inside of me or outside of me (maybe both), I am able to move forward. I feel spiritual when, once in a while, I feel joy, or I have a wave of gratitude, or I get a renewed zest for life. I feel spiritual when my children tell me they love me, and when I realize how lucky I am to have been given a second chance.

I feel spiritual when I am able to forgive myself.

EB

Spirituality when saying Shema

Alan (StopCancerNow) writes:

Bryce Cyn., being in the outdoors, I AGREE, is an amazing place to feel the connection with ones spirituality (and Yosemite too). For certain, I have felt my spirituality outdoors. Having a baby is an amazing time to feel spirituality! While I love the outdoors and all that represents in mother nature/G*d; for me, my *Jewish*spirituality, has developed more as I live life day after day and listen to a book repeatedly, called:"The Art of Happiness" by the Dali Lama. (I also feel spirituality in listening to song and surf.)

And mostly my spirituality has come together for me when saying the amazing prayer, The Shema, while my wife, sister and close friend were dying.
GO figure?!?

Death is part of life. The Shema is like a mini Kaddish. Finding spirituality in times of struggle, like death and in actions, such as: 'Random Acts of Kindness,' seem to be another place where I find Spirituality too. Shalom

PS When I meditate and focus on breath, stretch and balance (BSB), I find my Spirituality as one too.

Springing Leaks

Why did I sign on to participate in this conversation about spirituality? I promised Rappi Kipnes a couple of years ago that I would get more involved in Or Ami when I wrapped up a huge volunteer commitment I had at my children's school. That gig is a wrap, and now I have time for a new type of exploring.

When have I ever felt spiritual? I feel a little shy about confessing this, but usually I know I am feeling spiritual when so much joy or love or awe or pure emotion wells up inside of me that a few drops of this feeling leak out my eyes (some people call this crying, but to me that term applies to the more whole-body experience associated with pain and grief). Beauty, really, seems to be the common factor for these leaks I spring. The beauty and power that comes from connections among people: voices joined together in song, people joined together to help or create, shared milestones that mark a passage from one phase of life to the next.

The beauty in these human connections fills me with so much awe that I think this must be what has inspired others throughout history to feel "faith" and to codify ideas about spirituality that can be shared with others, ideas that we call religion. To me, springing leaks helps me glimpse something greater than myself, and these glimpses are how I experience G-d.

Why Spirituality - Seeking G-d Like Moments

Why did I respond to Rabbi Paul to enter into this conversation? Seeking spirituality is a journey I have found myself on for a long time going back to my teenage years. It is different than a religious experience for religion can be bogged down with the dogma of who may be speaking or the prayer book being read. A spiritual experience seems to have its own unique energy unrelated to anything written in the Tanakh or other formal religious documents. To me I call it having a G-d like moment.

I have main three main categories of my spiritual or G-d like moments: (i) being deep in the wilderness (usually the mountains but the sea shore is also good), (ii) the birth of my children (all three of them), and (iii) meaningful conversation (e.g., not about weather and politics but about life its own self) with others (both friends and strangers).

I love being in the open spaces of the mountains or the sea shore. Being away from man-made objects or man-made noises seems to allow the life forces to speak to me, which some of us may called G-d. I can actually feel the energy, experiencing true awe of the beauty around me, and how I am part of something bigger than myself.

My children being born was another interesting experience. All three times I actually felt the new energy of my newborn child come into the LDR. I was overwhelmed with emotions I was unaware I had. I remember calling my mom with tears running down my cheeks and how much joy I felt that that I had just become a father.

Lastly, I am moved by the little yet meaningful moments of life. Talking to a stranger on an airplane and finding out where they are going and where they are coming from. Talking to a new person at Or Ami, any new person at work or a friend's social gathering. I appreciate the things we may have in common and/or the new ideas and views I may learn speaking with someone with a different perspective. I believe that if we could all be more open to hearing new ideas and viewpoints and not discount or argue with them, we are on the road to the Messianic age: a greater peace on earth in that no idea to help the common good is to bold or brash. I must state that these ideas for the common good must espouse the basic tenants of a sane and balanced life in that we all do unto others that which we would only do unto ourselves (e.g. do not violate our basic rights of life: the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness).

I look forward to continuing this dialogue with the group and searching for the deeper meanings of life and why we are all here on Earth.

When God Winks

For the better part of my adult life, I have considered myself more spiritual than religious. Brought up in a Jewish home in Framingham, Massachusetts where I attended Hebrew School three times a week, High Holiday services and became a Bat Mitzvah, I knew early on I was not into "religion" but yet, was very "spiritual". My earliest memory of "feeling religion", or what I recognize as becoming "spiritual" was at overnight camp in Pembroke, Massachusetts when I was ten years old. I remember sitting at Friday night Shabbat services in the pine grove with 400 other Jewish girls all dressed in white and blue and "feeling" Shabbat. I remember watching the water on the lake move with the each blow of the wind and singing "Bim Bom" and knowing that I loved what I was feeling. Flash forward six years, I am in Israel, at The Western Wall, Shabbat in July. I can remember the "feeling of Shabbat" in Israel like it was yesterday. It was not until six years after that Shabbat in Israel, that I was living in New York City and attended B'Nai Jeshurun Services on a Friday night. I had a spiritual awakening. I immediately felt like I was ten years old again in the pine grove watching the waves in Lake Oldham. For me, it was the validation I needed to know that I was exactly where I was supposed to be in my life. I have many moments that I can recall having that "validation", just knowing that I am where I am supposed to be. It's like G-d is talking to me. I have been told that it is called "When God Winks". It is God's way of telling you that you are on the right path. We moved from New Jersey to California this past summer and I was referred to Congregation Or Ami by a friend I attended summer camp with and had recently reconnected with through Facebook. She had known Rabbi Kipnes and told me that I would love the congregation. I immediately set up a phone conversation with Rabbi Kipnes. During the first three minutes, Rabbi said to me "let me tell you a little bit about myself....I was born in Framingham Union Hospital in Framingham, Massachusetts". That was all I needed to know. God winked.

My (sort of) first Jewish Spiritual encounter was a negative one. I lived in Cleveland, Ohio at the time and I was in elementary school. I had gone to use the bathroom at school and it was there that I encountered two classmates - not friends, just classmates. They were boisterous and a bit obnoxious but I paid them no mind. Not paying any attention to them caused one of them to call me a "dirty Jew". I said nothing and left. I wasn't sure why they said that or for that matter, what it really meant. I wasn't dirty - not in my house, you bathed (no showers) daily and washed your hands before every meal, and when you came inside from playing outdoors. But, I was Jewish.

I spoke to my mother and later she and my father had a little talk with me about being Jewish, about our grandparents that lived with us, the Orthodox home we kept, family in Europe, troubles in Europe, and the Temple we belonged to. A beautiful picture was unfolding for me and strong impressions were etched into my brain. I was proud. I knew who I was. I had a new understanding.

I had an identification that would travel with me through the rest of my life.

A First Jewish Spiritual Moment

There have been deep spiritual moments in my life, but I would like to share my earliest memory of a Jewish one.

Growing up, my family didn't belong to a synagogue. Being Jewish meant celebrating Chanukah instead of Christmas, and Passover instead of Easter, and eating strange foods which disgusted my friends. There were usually no more than three of us in my elementary school classes at a time each year, and when I occasionally went to church with my friend on Sundays, I tried to "look Christian" and prayed that the protestants in the room falled for my disguise. For the most part, being jewish meant being different and feeling like an outsider.

Thankfully, things changed at the age of eight, when I set foot in a synagogue for the first time to attend a Jewish wedding. I kept looking around, amazed that there could be that many Jews all together in the same room, and repeatedly asked my parents, "Are all these people really Jewish?". I instantly felt a spiritual connection to every Jew there, and remember getting goose bumps (the good kind). It felt new and familiar at the same time. It was a profound moment that I remember vividly, and is that same feeling I get to this day, when I feel closer to God. It was the very beginning of my longing and curiosity to to find spiritual connections, and I still get goose bumps participating with our congregation.

I love being Jewish!

Wow I have never bogged before, and find it a bit nerve racking, but I could not pass up Rabbi Paul's invitation to "talk" about spirituality. Where do I begin? I grew up in an orthodox home and never really under stood or related to the Jewish part of me. We did things because my mom said this is the way we do it, never explaining the reason's why we Jews do what we do. It wasn't until 13 years ago I was part of the 12 families that started Or Ami, that I really connected to the spirituality side of being a Jew. I learned why we do the things we do, through Torah Study with Rabbi Paul, conversations with other Or Ami members and most importantly my studies through The Melton School. I am a completely different person now than I was years ago. My understanding of Jewish law has changed me to become a better Jew, not in the ritual sense, but in the spirituality sense. I am so PROUD to be Jewish, to be part of a of a people who never gave up, and most especially our relationship to G-D. My Jewish spirituality is one of the most important aspects of my life. I LOVE BEING JEWISH AND BEING PART OF OR AMI. Thank You Rabbi Paul for all you have taught me and looking forward to always learning more!
May 2, 2010 11:58 AM

Kavvanah

Spirituality is of the utmost importance in my life and I strive to know it perpetually. This has become easier over the years, which is to say I have to work at it less to feel it more. In my youth Nature took precedence when looking for that "thing", in fact I have felt, and still feel HaMakom in Nature on an acute level. From Nature I progressed to meditation focused on the Universe. Useful, though I always felt there was something more. For me, I experience HaMakom on the deepest level while living aware of the ordinary. For instance, watching in awe as my shy, 8 year-old son Quinn jumped up on the table in front of 19 people during Pesach to tell in his words both literally and metaphorically the story of Exodus (יציאת מצרים). My daughter Sofia, as she put on her Tallit for the first time, standing tall, shoulders back, eyes fixed, understanding she was proud to be a Jew. My wife Janna as she laughs. Standing as a family within a family at Or Ami while singing the Shema. Yes, I find living in the moment, catching the little things and appreciating them as they happen are my most profound moments. I also find that my deepening sense of what it means to be a Jew has brought me to this place.

My Most Spiritual Experience

Childbirth. Definitely. I have had 24 hours to think more about this question oto think of a great spiritual moment and this is what I have come to. The moment of being handed a baby that just came from my own insides. I think there is no better time to be confronted most powerfully with the awe and magic of the transfer of life and the connection to something miraculous and greater than the sum of the parts. I recall the immediate love and overwhelming gratefullness and sense that I needed to thank God for the beautiful gift of our newborn Danielle.
by
Stacy M.

Watch the roads! Spirituality Seeking New Blogger on the Web!

I feel a bit like a virgin. Here it is 2010 and this is the first time I have ever created a new post on the internet. (Facebook updates don't count, right?) I'm nervous, leaving this "permanent record" of momentary thoughts that I may no longer agree with in my old, possibly crabby, age. What if I write something, totally sure about my feelings on the topic when I hit "Publish Now" but a second, a week, a month, a lifetime later I change my mind? I can be wishy washy that way. I waffle like that in my spirituality, too. One thing consistently makes me feel most spiritual - being outside. Yeah, I know. Skin cancer. Wrinkles. Age Spots. Do not try this without consulting your physician. But I find that if I get time outside, whether gardening, hiking or just reading a magazine outside, I feel most spiritual. It's like being a part of the universe to feel the breeze and sunshine on my face, to hear the leaves rustling and birds singing, to smell the roses, jasmine and honeysuckle (you can tell what's blooming in my yard right now, can't you?) I never tire of being outside. Just don't ell my dermatologist how spiritual I am. He'll lecture me.

Beginning a Conversation about Spirituality

For me, talking about spirituality is central to my life. I have always been seeking something deeper, something higher, something... more. I spent six week long periods in exploring Jewish spirituality at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality. It was one of the most powerful experiences of my adult life (aside from marriage, having kids, etc.). I remember standing on top of Bryce Canyon and feeling connected in with something greater. I wrote about it - about HaMakom - The Place - That God is Everyplace - in an sermon on Yom Kippur 2009. Now I seek others who want to talk more about spirituality. I hope you do too!

by Rabbi Paul Kipnes