A Primer for Jewish Meditation or Shiviti and the Gestures Part 2

Jewish Meditation, Alive and Well

In any event, the fear that we today have no continuous meditative traditions is, in my experience, unfounded. Whether it is called “Hitbodedut”, “Hitbonenut”, “Kavvanah” or “Yihudim,” Jewish meditation is alive and well. Admittedly, the more westernized Jewish communities in Europe and the US failed to transmit the meditative traditions, largely because it seemed so inconsistent with modern scientism. In the rush to prove Judaism to be rational, much of the experiential aspects of Jewish tradition were jettisoned. Similarly, in the tradition of the Lithuanian Yeshivot, the tendency (in my experience) has been to focus on the legalistic aspects of Torah study which can be subject to analysis, and to avoid anything experiential or “emotional.” Thus Torah and Talmud study emerge as the way to find the Divine presence and even maintain the universe. There is no need to find or encounter God. The encounter is embedded in the Torah, its logic and structure. That logic and structure is the logic and structure of all reality. Torah study is, by its very essence, cleaving to God to the benefit all of reality, even though the Talmudic subject matter studies may be entirely about seemingly trivial matters like eggs laid on a festival, livestock that cause damages or the proper way to enact a sale of a boat.

However, other more “eastern” communities maintained their traditions and passed them on. I refer of course to Hassidim and to Sefardi Kabbalists. Hassidim lived on the borderline of modernity, in a state of deep tension with it. Many Chassidic communities maintain ecstatic and mystical traditions. Surprisingly, the major concern in Chassidic communities in not necessarily with the transmission of religious experience, mystical doctrine or forms of ecstatic worship. Most Chassidic groups are concerned primarily with the transmission of traditions in general, even when such traditions seem to run counter to the Halacha is learned from books. Mostly this tendency results in a more stringent practice of Jewish law. Many of these traditions are old pietistic practices. But on occasion the reliance on authoritative traditions results in leniencies as well. Hassidim are not always “more orthodox” but they are always more traditional. They are also quite adept at claiming that nothing changes, even when it is obvious that things have changed.  No matter how a tradition arose, Chassidim will maintain it steadfastly. As for the Sefardic communities of North Africa and the Middle East, the confrontation with modernity came much later. Modernity is a European idea. Many of the Sefardic communities did not identify completely with Europe and never entirely bought into modernity. Thus were many of their traditional attitudes and practices spared.

Wandering in Search of the Gate

So there are places in the world to day where one can learn authentic meditative practices. Still, there are difficulties. Let me put it this way. If you walk into a Mediation center you will see people obviously cultivating the transformation of consciousness. They are obviously meditating, and they are getting instructions on the “nuts and bolts” of how to sit, breathe, pose, still the mind and many other specific things.

If you walk into a Kaballah Yeshiva you will not see anything like that. You will see people performing Divine service, studying texts (both Kabalistic and Talmudic), conversing with each other, and listening to lectures. If you go to a Chassidic Yeshiva, you will find no less Talmud study than at any other yeshiva. You will not find anyone who appears to be meditating. There is certainly no instruction given in body postures, breathing techniques, stilling the mind or anything similar. Meditation is very much a private affair. That fellow in the Yeshiva sitting in the corner with his eyes closed…is he asleep? Is he experiencing the sublime? And if I tap him on his shoulder and ask him…he will certainly claim to have accidentally fallen asleep. A de-emphasis on technique seems to be part of the tradition. Once when I asked my teacher how to do a certain meditative visualization which he recommended for beginners, he too his finger, pointed to the place in the book where the visualization was explained, and said “Here it is, do what it says.”

“But how should I do it?”

“Just do it”

“Sitting or standing? How should I sit? What do I do?”

“You worry too much. Just do it. Find yourself a quiet spot and do it The lest will happen by itself”

This attitude, I think typifies much of how Jewish tradition deals with meditation. There are copious descriptions of the meditative states and what you are supposed to find in them. There is almost no description of how you are supposed to get into the meditative state. Even the most elementary aspect of “Being mindful of the breath” is almost entirely lacking. I received a few instructions about breathing, but nothing more. Prayers and rituals, of course, are done communally, but meditation, being perceived as an “inner” experience is done alone. There is even a tendency to hide meditation from sight. I think that this lack Technique and lack of public presence makes Jewish meditation hard to notice even when it is happening in front of your nose. While at first I was frustrated, I eventually came to understand that this lack of technique and public practice is in actuality the natural way that Jewish Meditation is practiced and transmitted. The sought after states arise in aloneness and through a personal spontaneous gate. When an individual chooses to go beyond texts, study, laws and observances, he/she goes beyond technique. That, it seemed to me, was the essence of the Jewish Meditative path.

According to Rabbi Avraham Ben haRambam in his Sefer Hamaspik, Jewish meditation is a preparation for an encounter. While some kinds of meditation may be thought of as a kind of science in the sense that they are thought to work objectively like a natural process, a Jewish spiritual experience just has to happen, like a meeting you have prepared and longed for but which is not in your hands to control. That being the case there is no technique for “getting it” You have to wander through the dry desert until the encounter happens to you.

The encounter cannot be forced, but in can be enabled. One cannot conceive of the encounter without Torah and Mitzvoth, the cleansing, sanctifying and empowering energy conveyed by fulfilling Halacha, the strengthening of the mind that results from focusing it on God’s law, the breaking through the Shells of misunderstanding that surround the radiant meaning of a Mishna, a Talmudic discussion or a Halachic decision. All this is shared communal experience, and the personal inner gates will not open to one who has not passed through the outer gates first.