Reflections On Jewish Meditation

I'm called upon, from time to time, to speak on Jewish meditation. Many people are aware of my intense involvement in Jewish mysticism and assume I know something about meditation. Well, I do!  I have practiced and taught meditation, on and off, for the last twenty years. I've noted its benefits, but yet a gnawing feeling keeps returning that meditation is foreign to the Jewish sensibility. Each time I agree to facilitate a workshop, I wonder whether I'm genuinely serving the community or giving in to trendy whims.  Jewish meditation is so much in the limelight these days--course offerings, magazine articles and general interest appearing everywhere--that we need to reassess what meditation means to us.

The history of Jewish meditation dates back to the second Temple where early Jewish mystics practiced a brand of Kabbalah known as ma'aseh merkavah, the work of the chariot. Based on the first chapter of the book of Ezekiel, the prophet described a mystical journey where he experienced the presence of God; this spiritual discipline became a purely meditative practice. The vision was attributed to a deep meditative state, and the vivid description of the experience has been a subject that attracted the attention of scholars for centuries.

Since the destruction of the second Temple, however, meditation was never prescribed as a practice for the Jewish people. There were never instructions issued nor manuals published on meditation for the common use of the community. Meditation was a solitary practice known only to prophets and adept Jewish mystics. Meditation is the practical tool of the Kabbalist: without it, the Jewish mystical tradition would be reduced to intellectual inquiry, undermining its true purpose.  It is said that the prophets received Divine messages only in a state of meditative consciousness, unlike Moses who communicated with God in ordinary consciousness. Jewish mystics, on the other hand, meditated with the intent of receiving d'vekut, mystical attachment to the Divine presence.

Visionaries throughout world cultures were known to resort to hallucinogenic substances in order to produce mystical states of mind.  Jewish mystics, with the same intent in mind, discovered meditation as a discipline to bring about altered states. The techniques that they developed worked for practicing mystics, but not necessarily suitable for the modern spiritual seeker. Most of them involved complex manipulations of Hebrew letters into numbers to find deeper meanings of Hebrew text or writing Hebrew mystical formulas at auspicious times.

Other than for mystical exploration, it was prayer that has always been acknowledged as the Jewish medium between God and His people. Prayer is a much more gentle spiritual exercise, maintaining a more controlled mentality, intent upon sustaining normal daily life.  Meditation on the other hand is more dynamic and fraught with mental pitfalls. Without the proper guidance, meditators may, for example, unearth deep-seated feelings that can incite extreme emotional reactions. My earliest concern when meditation first appeared on the Jewish scene, was that people were looking for an alternative to prayer, maybe because of the general resistance to Hebrew or perhaps the lack of meaning they encountered in prayer.
For novices, meditation is really a simple practice; you don't even need a teacher to get started. In the beginning, there are only three basic elements to the practice. One is to find a quiet, peaceful time and place where you can spend ten or fifteen undisturbed minutes; and second, is to get your body in a relaxed position. It's important to scan your body for tense areas and allow them to relax. There's no need to sit cross-legged on the floor, a comfortable chair will do. Some people even lie down, but this leads to falling asleep-- which is fine, except you're not meditating.

The main consideration is to choose an object of concentration, a focus on which to clear your mind of all distractions, except for the single chosen focal point. The benefits of meditation stem from developing the ability to focus on one object at a time, to the exclusion of all distractions. Any attention device will work; among the standard ones are visualizing the YHVH, God's ineffable name or observing the rise and fall of the breath. Some people focus on candle flames, gentle music or mantras such as Rabbi Nachman's famous "Ribbono shel olam", master of the universe. Books on meditation usually list a wider variety of focusing possibilities; it up to you to choose what works. It's good to start slowly, spending ten to fifteen minutes a day in practice and expanding gradually to about twenty or thirty minutes.

Today, with a flowering interest in Jewish meditation, Jews encounter inherent problems. Most of the meditation being touted as Jewish has its roots in eastern religions, principally Buddhism. While not intrinsically harmful, it violates the Jewish principle against integrating our tradition with those of other nations. How then can we accept meditation within Jewish tradition, without infringing upon basic principles?

I treat mindfulness (a Buddhist form) which is simply paying attention to the contents of consciousness (sensations, feelings and thoughts) much the same as I treat yoga postures. Stretching is a marvelous exercise to prevent injury and maintain flexibility. I stretch before each and every workout, but I intend it for physical benefit, not spiritual. We can apply the same thinking to meditation, which brings wonderful benefits for relaxation and stress release, alleviating symptoms of many illnesses. There are those who substitute Buddhist meditation for psychotherapy; it doesn't work. Some use it for spiritual purposes; it's not Jewish. It's urgent for the continuity of our tradition to retain what's Jewish in Judaism.