Yesterday I participated in a fascinating program sponsored by the Gail Borden Public Library and the Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders. I was the Jewish panelist on a topic of Spirituality and/or Religion. I have been on this panel before and I genuinely like doing them. It gives me the opportunity to think deeply about a topic. I get to explain Judaism to a wider audience. It builds bridges and it models civil discourse. Anytime I do one it sharpens my own understanding about Judaism. But this one stymied me. I am no expert in spirituality. And people around me heard me grousing about this topic for weeks. (And I might have even suggested the topic all the way back in January as part of a brainstorming session). What was making me so uncomfortable? I wasn’t sure—but I know that when I am this nervous about a presentation there is a growing edge to it. By late Saturday afternoon, I thought I had possible answers to the questions.  

Here goes: 

1. In your faith what do religion and spirituality mean? 

First, I am here to represent Judaism which has a 5000 year tradition. It is more than a faith. Judaism is a religion, a people, an ethnic group, a tradition.  And there is never only one answer. I actually have really struggled with this particular panel because anything I say is my opinion only—today—or right now. It may change even as we go through this discussion by listening to our other panelists.  

There is even a joke—two Jews and three opinions.  

But to try to answer this question. Judaism is seen as a religion and it has deep spirituality embedded in it. Both words are from the Latin, which might be part of my problem. There is not a direct Hebrew equivalent. I see religion from the root word from the Latin, religio, to tie back up into. Ralph Waldo Emerson talks a lot about this but Jewish people not so much, yet it is there. I think that the object of religion, however is to find connection, to tie back up into the Divine or maybe to connect with other like minded people searching for community. 

• Spirituality comes from spirit—or breath. The online dictionary defines it as “the nonphysical part of a person which is the seat of emotions and character; the soul. 
• 2. those qualities regarded as forming the definitive or typical elements in the character of a person, nation, or group or in the thought and attitudes of a particular period.” 

Often times people talk about a distinction between the physical body and the spirit or soul. 

In Judaism the Hebrew word for spirit is neshama, nefesh or ruach, our souls are very breath itself. In fact, one of our morning prayers, says that “the soul that You have given us is pure, You have breathed it into me and within it You sustain me. So there is no separation between body and soul. 

2. Are they separate concepts? 

They don’t have to be. For me, the ritual of religion allows me or helps me to be spiritual, to connect with the Divine. So does music, being out in nature, and the quietude of the early morning when I can most easily write. My writing is a gift of the Divine and highly spiritual. I also experience the Divine on an early morning run. Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav, similar to Henry David Thoreau suggested that we should spend an hour alone, outdoors in nature pouring out our soul to…G-d.  

In Judaism there seems to be a pendulum swing. Sometimes we talk about G-d and we are more spiritual. Sometimes we are more rational and we don’t. When I grew up the Reform Movement of Judaism was concerned about the ethics and not the religious ritual. We didn’t alk about G-d or spirituality much. I learned, for example, that kashrut was an outmoded form of Judaism. That no one practiced it any more. But it is a spiritual discipline still practiced by many. Talking about G-d was somehow taboo. I even told my rabbi in Grand Rapids when asked to do a blessing over bread, “But Rabbi, Jews don’t believe in G-d, only Christians do” I was afraid he might actually say that at ordination.  

In the 1970s, the chavurah movement started not far from Tufts and Harvard. It was an attempt imbue Judaism with their own individual meaning—sitting in small groups in people’s living rooms. There were a series of books, The Jewish Catalogs, that was a kind of do-it-yourself Judaism. It was not just something that the rabbis told you what to do, from on high, from up on the bimah, the stage, in those large synagogue edifices that were built after World War II. It was the great search for individualized meaning and participation.  There was an emphasis on Eastern Religions and many Jews left Judaism for more mediation like in Buddhism and Hinduism, not realizing that some of those very things they were searching for existed in Judaism. 

The Institute of Jewish Spirituality was born 20 years ago which according to its website “has helped thousands of people every year to slow down, reconnect with themselves and the world, and rediscover their sense of sacred purpose. We invite you to explore our website where you will find teachings, inspiration, guided meditations, and retreat opportunities to become more mindful, more peaceful, more compassionate, and more resilient, all through the rich wisdom of Jewish tradition. Wherever you are on your journey, whether you are just beginning or you have practiced mindfulness for years, we welcome you.” https://www.jewishspirituality.org/  

Last week I went to a seminar of Spiritual Resilience sponsored by the Association of Rabbis and Cantors, the alumni association of my seminary. The presenter, Dr. Lisa Miller, who was giving us the science behind spirituality talked about a Venn diagram between Religion and Spirituality, 70% of America lives in the intersection between the two. 30% of millennials see spiritual in art, music and nature and 2/3 believe in some kind of deity. She sees this as particularly important, powerful given the high rates of depression and anxiety amongst adolescents. Having a relationship with a higher power, by whatever name you call that Power helps reduce those anxiety levels. The science teaches us this. And that transcendent relationship is 1/3 innate and 2/3 environmental. In late adolescence, teens begin to hunger for connection (we’re back to religio) and begin to search for meaning. What’s MY meaning? What’s the meaning of life? Spirituality can help to answer those essential questions. But it takes work, I would add, and in our modern society people want easy answers. That is not always possible. I was intrigued by her comment that tikkun olam, repairing the world, most strengthens the spiritual brain and provides those connections. This is of some comfort to me as someone who went into the rabbinate to be a social justice rabbi. So there is also no separation between tikkun olam and the spiritual quest. I can’t wait to read her newest book, The Spiritual Child: The New Science on Parenting for Health and Life Long Thriving.” 

The science also suggests that there doesn’t have to be a fear of the spiritual from the realm of psychology. This is good and represents a huge step forward, in my mind. In that rational world I grew up in the spiritual and emotional worlds were not seen as real and were something to be feared. Talk of G-d was not rational. Talk of a “calling” was seen as weird. My parents made me go to a psychiatrist when I first started considering the rabbinate afraid I might be crazy. Some therapists are uneasy with a discussion of spirituality, although that is softening. 

I think another word needs to be thrown into this mix and that is mysticism.  

I think as I worked through my preparation for this, I have come to this conclusion. Spirituality and religion are entwined, at least in my practice of Judaism. There is a mystical tradition within Judaism that dates all the way back to the beginning of Torah. Tikkun Olam was originally this idea about repairing the world and repairing the self that is a lovely story about how when the world was created a bright light was contained in a vessel but it was so bright it shattered the vessel. It is our job to gather those shards back together again, that’s how we repair the world. Other mystical texts permeate our liturgy: El Adon, Lecha Dodi, a Friday night hymn welcoming Shabbat. Our Tu B’shevat seder, how we celebrate Sukkot—all have mystical aspects that have been ritualized and common even in American Judaism. 

Even the time period we are in now, between Passover and Shavuot (Pentecost) 50 days later is imbued with a mystical spin. Each day is an emanation of the Divine. While Ein Sof, the Infinate One cannot be fully comprehended by mere mortal humans, we can begin to understand the 10 mystical attributes or sefirot. Some of those attributes mirror the 13 attributes in Exodus 34:6-7 that we are supposed to emulate. One of those, chesed, perhaps best translated as lovingkindness, is part of the reason I became a rabbi. (That’s a story for another time but relevant here). According to the commentaries, just as G-d showed lovingkindness by clothing the naked, Adam and Eve, we should. Just as G-d visited the sick, Abraham; we should. Just as G-d buried the dead, Moses; we should.  

The need to understand that G-d loves us is a central need and part of religion. If G-d can show lovingkindness and we are commanded to love the widow, the orphan and even the stranger, than that guides my religion and spirituality, and my practice of both. People want to know that they are loved. That is part of what adolescents are searching for as they leave for college (or whatever makes sense to them these days), become individual adults and break away from their family of origin. 

3. How would you describe yourself – either or both or something else? 

Both. Given my background as the daughter of a Jewish atheist, which was never a contradiction in his mind, I would have never described myself as spiritual. However, I have come to see myself that way. In fact. Since moving to Elgin, there is one Christian pastor who has described me as the most spiritual person he knows. That always surprises me and humbles me because I don’t see myself that way. And since I work as a Jewish professional, being religious is an occupational hazzard. Perhaps another way to think about it is how we describe some aspects of Jewish prayer. We talk about keva—the structure of the service, the words we say day in and day out, the part that is ritualized, or made into a routine, and kavanah, the intention, the meaning behind the prayer. Keva then is the religion, the connection, the part that gets us to the kavanah, the deep closeness with spirituality and the divine. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel had lots to say about this. He also famously said when marching with Martin Luther King, that his feet were praying. So it is all about those combinations.

4. When people say “I’m not religious, but I am spiritual, what are they saying? 

I think what they are saying is “I want to connect with the Divine but I don’t want the trappings of organized, institutional religion.” Let’s be very clear. Sometimes the hierarchical institutions have deeply wounded people in the pews. That is part of why the Puritans came to this country. They wanted to interpret scripture on their own and not just be told what to believe. There is a rugged individualism in this country—no body is going to tell me what to do. And while the history is important and as my colleague said we need to do a better job of teaching it and being less lazy, we need to help people find meaning—their meaning—within the tradition.  

Still, it is very common for me to hear the story of rabbis and cantors in previous generations who really hurt kids and adults. Some of those stories are just coming to light now—sadly, not unlike the Catholic Church rocked by the priest scandal, we too have had rabbis who abused. We have had rabbis who denied people marriage ceremonies if they were marrying someone who is not Jewish or came out as gay. We have rabbis who screamed at kids in Hebrew School not knowing any better pedagogical techniques.  We have congregations that have denied the right to pray to people who didn’t look like them, didn’t have the same intellectual abilities or enough wealth. It can be expensive to be a Jews. Sadly, the list goes on. The Protestants don’t escape either as we have witnessed even in our own backyard at some of the megachurches. Sadly, it seems to exist in many hierarchical structures where the power is given to a few (men). We religious leaders need to own this and meet people where they are, hear their hurt and pain and walk with them. 

So, I really liked what my colleague Rev. Dave Daubert said about wedding couples who say they are spiritual and not religious. He is right. They could have just gone to city hall or been married by a justice of the peace. But they are sitting in his office so they must at some level be religious as well as spiritual. It is our job as clergy then to help them find meaning within the tradition, the ritual, the religion.  

5. How do you express your religion or spirituality or both? 

After much thinking about this topic, it is very hard to separate them so I express my religion and spirituality with both. Some through art—I took a class this year just for me in Art and Spirituality for Women Rabbis, run by the Jewish Studio Project. I run—and for me that is a spiritual discipline. I write—again mostly spiritual but informed by my religion. I practice kashrut and Sabbath–religious expressions for my spirituality or is the spiritual expression of my religion? I think part of it is being aware. Once I was teaching an 8th grade, post B-Mitzvah class. They were bored and didn’t want to be there. We went on a tour of the building thinking that the other people in the building might inspire the kids. The question we asked was “How do you think about your Judaism?” I was hoping they would answer, “Every day.” That did not happen. The cantor said he didn’t think about it. He just sang the words on the page. The secretary didn’t think about her Judaism, she just showed up for work and typed letters, answered the phone and balanced the books. The rabbi said he didn’t think about his Judaism. We pushed back and asked him about eating. Surely keeping Kosher he would think about his Judaism every day. He said he had been doing it for so long he didn’t have to think about it. I think he missed the point. For me, keeping kosher is about reminding myself that there is something beyond, something bigger than myself. It is humbling. Maybe that is spiritual. 

 Ultimately, I think the ritual should create the awareness of our transcendent relationship. 

6. Can you be spiritual with belief in a deity?   

Yes 

7. Can you be religious without belief in a deity? 

Yes. But both these last questions are still very, very complicated. I am thinking of Karate Kid, where Mr. Miyagi taught the young Daniel karate with wax on and wax off as a form of awareness, mindfulness. That’s a form of spirituality. Buddhist who may or may not be deists are most certainly spiritual. Who am I to judge? Where I would challenge Miyagi is he made a deal with Daniel that Daniel could not ask any questions. For me…ask all the questions you want. That is part of Judaism—the religion and the spirituality. It is how we are seekers. It is how we find meaning. It is how we are Yisrael, Israel, G-dwrestlers.