How I re-became a Jew
I was meditating. Nothing much was happening.
Then there were eyes, or something like eyes, suggestive of a face, or something like a face, before my mind’s eye. Although my gaze was directed downward, from my meditation cushion to the base of the wall I was facing, this intimation of a face was all I could see.
I had learned so many of the mind’s tricks over the years, but this was a new one.
I shook my head very slightly, but this invisible vision followed me. Then it made itself fully known, lowering itself over me, gently, and holding me, the way an idea or the solution to a problem will scoop you up and inject a column of light into your lungs and exhilarate you.
This was the moment, in the summer of 2003, that began my journey back from Zen Buddhism to a newly committed, newly meaningful embrace of Judaism.
In talks I give on the subject of Jews and Buddhism (or a related but more important topic, Jews and meditation), I refer to this as the moment I met God. One man — who was working on his Masters degree in Tibetan Buddhism — asked me if it wasn’t just my Buddha Nature steering me back toward Jewish practice. This was a wonderful comment.
The difference is — the probem is — that this experience came shortly after my lay ordination as a Zen Buddhist. After this experience I felt compelled to immerse myself in Judaism as I had until then been unable to do. I could not get comfortable in the Zendo.
But I still remember those early mornings, and the smell of the dusty cotton zafus and the sound of traffic and school children beyond the wall. And I remember a face, or something like a face, and a wash of blue coming down over me, like a massive wing. And I remember everything being different after that.
As I left the zendo for the last time, I saw a beetle’s shell clinging to the doorpost of the meditation hall. The beetle was gone.
David:
I was struck by how you didn’t or couldn’t engage Judaism in a meaningful way until your lay ordination into Zen.
Something similar happened to me. My Judaism was meaningful to me in only the most academic way until I married a goy. At that point an unexpected emotional reaction set in. I could almost see our father Abraham wagging his finger at me, asking “What are you doing?”
I’ve spent a good part of my life since then immersing myself in my history and faith, trying to answer that question.
Yankel:
Like you, I married a non-Jewish woman (the first time around). Perhaps that had something to do with the process, after all.
Thanks for your comment, and your beautiful post.
Interesting post David thanks for sharing it.