Setting A
Place for God
A Woman's Guide to Creating Sacred Space
and Inviting the Divine to Dwell Within It
Chapter 1: The Jewish Woman as Kohenet
On Friday evening just
before the sun sets, a Jewish woman stands in front of two candles set on a beautifully prepared
table. She could be anywhere in the world, since countless other women in virtually every
country pose in a similar fashion before identical candles just before darkness descends in
their time zone. She could be living in any century or time period, since it has been said that
Jewish women have stood this way, ready to light the candles, since Biblical
times.
With the sky outside
painted in hues of crimson, gold and orange, the woman lifts the shawl draped across her
shoulders and carefully covers her head with it. She pauses, then strikes a match and touches it
to the wick of one candle, then the other. The ensuing flames flicker, then grow stronger,
providing contrast to the ever-dimming sunlight. She cups her hands around the flames, which
rise up and stretch like golden fingers, then circles them around the candles – once, twice,
three times. Each movement spreads the light over her head, around her body and into the room,
which seems to take on a supernal glow.
For a moment…maybe much longer…the woman stands in silence,
eyes covered by her hands, swaying almost imperceptibly as the people around her – her children,
her husband, her guests – wait patiently. At the conclusion of her silent prayer, slowly and
sweetly she begins to chant a blessing in Hebrew, reciting the same words spoken or sung by her
ancestors, the same words said or chanted today by other Jewish women everywhere on Friday
evening. When finished, she slowly removes her hands from her eyes, sighs, and smiles as she
looks at the candles glowing before her as if seeing them for the first
time.
If I had to
pick one ritual to characterize Judaism’s spiritual depth, without hesitation I would choose the
Sabbath candle-lighting ceremony. Not only does it possess an inherent beauty, it is replete
with all the meaningful, spiritual, mystical, traditional, and contemplative elements of this
ancient religion. Yet, I believe too many Jewish women – who historically have been the ones to
perform this ritual – light the candles on Friday evening with little understanding of the
awe-inspiring position they hold when doing so or of the powerful spiritual technology the
ritual itself offers them. They simply go through the motions of ritual observance, which leaves
them content with the knowledge that they have observed the commandment to light the
Shabbat (Sabbath) candles but sadly devoid of any meaningful or spiritual experience from
doing so.
Just like
these Jewish women, when I began lighting candles to mark the beginning of Shabbat, I
also failed to realize that at the moment I put match to wick, I became a powerful ritual
leader, one reminiscent of those who served in the Temple in Jerusalem
so long ago. More specifically, I became a priestess – a kohenet –invoking the
Shechinah, or feminine Indwelling Presence of God, into the sanctuary I had built with my
words and actions. If I performed my duties with knowledge, understanding, intention, faith, and
courage, the simple act of lighting two candles not only became a meaningful one for me but also
one that sent an invitation to the Divine to join me for the next 25 Sabbatical hours. In turn,
doing so in this manner allowed Her to dwell with me in this sacred space.
When I first
conceptualized the idea of women as Sabbath priestesses, I realized I needed to learn more about
kohanot (priestesses) to see if my analogy really worked. Initially, I found little
information on women as priestesses but volumes on the kohenim, the Temple priests. As I
read the detailed descriptions of priestly duties, I perceived an increasing number of
similarities between the role of the kohenim and that of Jewish women preparing for and
observing Shabbat.
A closer look at who
these priests were and what they did during the Temple Period (1006 BCE-70CE) in Jerusalem makes
the parallel clear. Only male descendents of Aaron, a member of the tribe of Levi and the first
one given the status of “kohen,” were allowed to serve as priests. While the Temple
existed, these men officiated over the rituals and sacrifices performed in the temple.
More specifically, they created and maintained sacred space through their yom tov
(festival) preparations, served as clergy or ritual leaders, officiated over ceremonies, and
acted generally as a conduit for the Divine.
Keeping this in mind
while reviewing the parts of the Shabbat candle-lighting ritual, which is also used on
other Jewish holidays, it became easy for me to see that the candle-lighting ritual symbolically
mimics the duties of the kohenim in the ancient Temple. When Jewish women fulfill
the commandment to light the candles, they prepare the Temple – their homes, beautify the altar
– the dinner table, light the Temple lights – the candles, and invoke God’s presence – the
blessing. In addition, each time Jewish women bake the traditional loaves of
challah, or braided egg bread thought to be like the “showbread” displayed in the Temple
and served on Shabbat, they symbolically perform a sacrifice. The rabbinic
commandment to separate a portion of the dough – the “challah” – and burn it represents a
way to remember the tradition of giving a portion of dough to the kohenim for sacrificial
use.
Yet, in the Temple
itself, women were not allowed to perform priestly duties. They were not seen as kohanot
and, therefore, were not allowed to act as kohanot. If they were involved in Temple
activities at all, they would have been responsible for singing chants, prophesy, divination,
communion with the spirits of the dead, divine litanies, and attendance at births and
deaths. They might have sung psalms, provided musical accompaniment for rituals,
performed priestly blessings, and examined priestly offerings. They might have made the incense
for the Temple and eaten of the Temple sacrifices.
The fact that women had
little official status, if any, during the Temple Period foreshadows the fact that until
recently, Judaism has been a male-dominated and male-oriented religion that has kept women on
the outside of religious and spiritual study, separated them from men during worship, prevented
them from becoming clergy, and exempted them from observing the positive and time-bound
mitzvot (commandments) required of men. Much of an observant Jewish person’s life
revolves around the fulfillment of these religious obligations. However, while Jewish men
are obligated to fulfill 613 mitzvot, Jewish women must fulfill only three: nerot
(lights) or hadlakat ha-ner (lighting the lights), the lighting of the Sabbath or holiday
candles; challah (offering), separating a portion of dough (which would have been given
to the kohenim) and discarding or burning it when baking the Sabbath bread or cakes; and
niddah (menstruation), the immersion in a mikveh (ritual bath) at the end of a
woman’s menstrual cycle. It is important to note
that women never have been restricted from participating in other mitzvot; they simple
were never obligated to perform them.
Nu ? Do Jewish Women
Have a Special Role or What?
When my initial searches
for Jewish priestesses left me empty handed, I began to wonder where to find these
kohanot and if they actually existed anywhere outside of my mind. After a little digging
and some conversations with experts well versed in the lives of historical Jewish women, I was
told to look in a variety of sources, including midrashim (stories that fill in the gaps
left in the Torah, or Old Testament) and then to read between the lines. Just as some say
that God exists in the spaces between the letters of the Torah, it seems the strong
female leaders of this religious tradition often are discovered in what has not been said
about them.
Despite my own conviction
that Jewish women become kohanot every Friday evening when they light the Shabbat
candles, I felt certain that any rabbis or teachers to whom I deferred for knowledge about
Jewish priestesses might argue, “There are no kohanot in the Jewish tradition, only
kohenim.” I went ahead and approached several with my premise and a request for research
help anyway, and to my great surprise, they all agreed that Jewish women today can, and do, act
as priestesses.
That said, many other
scholars, have argued that no priestess tradition has ever existed within Judaism. Others – like
those I consulted – would disagree, taking the opposite perspective that kohanot existed
during Biblical times even if they weren’t known as such. Unfortunately, we have little or no
information about these women, their lives or how they earned or used this title, if it
even was bestowed upon them. We do know the title itself would have given them little power in
the Temple itself.
A close study of the
Torah finds mention of Biblical women who held positions of respect and authority.
All of the Biblical Jewish patriarchs married pagan priestesses. Miriam, the sister of
Moses and Aaron, is considered one of the liberators of the Israelites, and she and Sarah,
Abraham’s wife, have been called priestesses by some scholars. Tzipoprah, the daughter of a
Midianite priest, acted as an intermediary between God and her husband when she circumcised
their son to calm God’s anger at Moses. Deborah served as a judge, and seven of
the 55 prophets were women. Many midrashim also refer to Biblical Jewish woman as
priestesses.
Many centuries later, a
few Jewish women in Europe established themselves as spiritual leaders – much to the dismay of
many members of their communities. For example, Hannah Rachel of Ludomir (ca.1815-1905) was
viewed as a rabbi and scholar, and Malkah of Belz (ca.1780-1850) shared her wisdom through her
outspokenness with her husband, the famed Belzer Rebbe (Rabbi Shalom Rokeach), and his
followers. Gravestones found in old European Jewish cemeteries display engraved titles,
such as “priestess” or “synagogue leader,” that tell us that Jewish women were able to achieve
this level of leadership in these communities.
More recently, many
strong-minded and determined Jewish feminists with lots of chutzpa have fought long and
hard to create religious equality within Judaism. Their efforts influenced several denominations
of Judaism to ordain female cantors and rabbis, thus paving the way for Jewish women to take on
religious leadership roles. In addition, many synagogues now enlist female lay leaders to
assist during or preside over services and festival observances. The mitzvah
(commandment) of niddah has become a choice for women, rather than an obligation, and
women now count as part of a minyan, the quorum of 10 required for communal prayer, in
all but the most Orthodox and Conservative settings. Also, women are allowed – even
encouraged – to take on rituals traditionally seen as the man’s domain, such as the laying on of
teffilin, the phylacteries used during morning prayers,
the wearing of a tallit, or prayer shawl, and the use of the mikveh at times other
than at the end of a menstrual cycle. Jewish girls and women now can study Torah,
Mishnah (Jewish laws) and Talmud (commentaries on Jewish law). Even the mystical
teachings of Judaism, called Kabbalah, in most cases today are open to women when only
learned men over 40 were allowed to study these texts in the past.
The New Jewish
Exodus
Despite these changes,
many a good Jewish woman has left the fold of her religious heritage to look elsewhere for her
spiritual and religious connection, for egalitarian and feminist rituals, prayers and practices,
as well as ones they find meaningful and spiritual. In addition, they have left in search
of a God to which they can relate – one not called King, Father or Master, but rather Queen,
Mother or Mistress. They have sought out ways to reclaim the Goddess written about by
Jeremiah and worshipped by their ancestors, and when they failed they looked to other feminine
deities acknowledged by different religious and spiritual traditions.
I, myself, have met many
of these Jewish women while traveling along my own spiritual path, which led me far astray of
Judaism. They have joined me in services at Unity Churches, for bhajans (devotional
songs) in ashrams and at meditation sessions at Buddhist retreats. Back in the synagogue, they
have attended the Kabbalah study groups and Jewish meditation classes I have taught and
have worshipped at the alternative Shabbat services I have created and led. No matter
where or when our paths have crossed, these female seekers always tell me the same
thing: “Judaism just doesn’t give me what I’m
looking for spiritually.”
Religions in general used
to provide for the spiritual needs of the faithful, but this has become increasingly less common
over the past few decades. With churches and synagogues filling the religious but not the
spiritual needs of their congregations, many of the formerly religiously faithful have been
forced to become religious dropouts. This has created what I call a “Modern Exodus” from
religious institutions.
As much at fault for not
providing meaningful and spiritual rituals, prayers and practices as any other religion, Judaism
has seen its fair share of religious dropouts. While both Jewish men and women have
joined the Exodus, women have done so in larger numbers. Although not enslaved by their
religious institutions, Jewish women have felt excluded by Judaism’s lack of focus on and
exclusion of women, as well as trapped by its customs and demeaned by its laws. Realizing
they desired freedom and that, unlike their ancestors in Egypt, they bore no shackles and had no
taskmasters, they broke free from their synagogues and boldly began walking down new religious
or spiritual paths.
I know this, because I
was one of these women. We seekers of “something more” than empty religious rituals – of what I
like to call “meaning-full and spirit-full” practices – feel the pull of the reshimu, the
residual impression of the Divine light. According to Kabbalistic mythology, when God
developed the desire to create something else besides Itself, It had to make room for something
else to exist. So, God withdrew Its light. Yet, since even that space was still part of the
Divine, it contained a residue of the Divine light. So, much like the fragrance of wine that
remains in a glass after the wine has been poured out, many of us are conscious of the Divine
reshimu in the world. This awareness of “something more” than what we see and
experience around us arouses us to search for what we think we have lost – our connection to
God. Unfortunately, many Jews – especially Jewish women – have stopped searching for this
spiritual experience within Judaism.
I might have been one of
these women, but my study of Kabbalah taught me that I could, indeed, find “something
more” in Judaism despite the fact that I had previously thought otherwise.
Seek and Ye’
Shall Find
After many years of
spiritual searching, I discovered that the meaningful and spiritual practices I sought and the
feminine Divine Presence with which I desired to connect could be found within Judaism if only I
knew where to look. Everything I desired lay within the Jewish mystical tradition. Recognizing
that Judaism was replete with both the opportunity for me to be a ritual leader – and I didn’t
even have to leave my home to take advantage of this – and for me to experience meaning-full and
spirit-full rituals, I returned to the religion of my birth.
To really see this
clearly, I, myself, had to look through the lens of an observant woman’s eyes. As a modern,
ambitious, career-minded Jewish woman, I admit that at first glance my more Orthodox
counterparts appeared to be just simple homemakers. Looking more closely, I noticed the
underlying spirituality present and the leadership role they played in their daily lives.
I found proof of this,
first, in observant men’s attitudes toward the women in their communities. These men often are
falsely perceived by outsiders as chauvinists who see and treat women as less than men. In
actuality, they acknowledge women as the core of the Jewish world, the foundational pillar of
Jewish practice, the trustees and educators of the next generation, the enforcers of dietary
laws. The reason for this is simple: In their focus
on the family and the home, in their preparations for weekly, monthly and yearly holy days, in
the caretaking of their children, in the cooking of their foods, these practicing Jewish women
create sacred space, observe commandments and conduct meaning-full and spirit-full rituals and
prayers for themselves and for their families every single moment.
For many of these women,
daily life serves as one long meditation, one continuous prayer, one constant creation of
sanctuaries. For them, each ritual blends into another. They may not participate in communal
prayer on a daily or even on a weekly basis, but they lead lives filled with prayer, ritual and
meaningful and spiritual connection with God. And they accomplish this not by sitting in
the balcony of the synagogue complaining of being separated from the men or of not being allowed
to lead the service themselves. They do this by serving as the high priestesses over the most
sacred place of worship and practice – their homes. While other Jewish women continue to
complain that Judaism offers them too few ritual or spiritual leadership roles, these women know
the truth: The job of priestess always has been ours for the taking.
Within the four walls of
their houses, all Jewish women – observant or not –always have possessed the ability and
permission to preside over home-based Shabbat and holiday rituals and prayers, as well as
those related to cooking, child rearing, childbirth, mourning, and female rites of passage. In
addition, they have been given the creative license to infuse their home-based rituals and
observances with meaning and spirit in whatever fashion feels most powerful to them. In this
way, Jewish women have carried forth the Temple tradition into their homes by serving as
kohanot.
In Exodus
25:8-9, God says, “Build for
me a sanctuary (mikdash), and I will dwell among you.” Much like the Israelites in the desert, Jewish women build
a mikdash – also referred to by God in the Torah as a mishkan (dwelling
place) – for the Divine every time they prepare carefully and elaborately for a holy day like
Shabbat. In this sacred space, they then light candles and say prayers and draw the
Divine into their midst.
In these personal
sanctuaries, Jewish women past and present have blessed food preparation and childbirth,
petitioned for sick family members and barren women, honored the new moon and the end of menses,
and helped daughters come of age and the dead pass on. In their mikdash, they have
accessed their intuition and spiritual nature to creatively use prayer and ritual in new ways
and to make their religious and spiritual practice part of their daily lives rather than
something isolated. And in their mishkan, their own sacred dwelling place, they
have prayed continuously every day, thus living the words of Psalm 168, “I place God before me
always.”
Without needing to become
Orthodox or observant Jews, all women can become kohanot by seeing their home as a
mikdash and doing whatever they can to continually create sacred space within it.
Each week we can prepare our dinner table for Shabbat and other holidays with white table
cloths, the best silver and china, beautiful candles and flowers so it becomes a misbeach
(altar). And then we can preside over one ritual – candle lighting. In the process, we, too, can
learn to live constantly in our mishkan and, as the Jewish teacher known as Jesus taught,
to “pray ceaselessly.”
It’s a Great Job,
and Women Get to Do It
With so many Jewish
rituals and commandments historically and traditionally dominated by men, my research left me
wondering why we women were given the responsibility of ushering in the holiest day of each
week. In fact, Shabbat represents the most important holiday of the year. So, why
do women – rather than men – have the honor of lighting the Sabbath candles? To understand the reasons fully, I had to study the history of
the candle-lighting ritual.
Most Jews assume the
mitzvah of nerot must have begun after the giving of the Torah at Mt.
Sinai. While midrashim tell of Sarah lighting Shabbat candles in her tent
and Rebecca later taking on this job, we have little else to tell us about Biblical Sabbath
candle-lighting practices. The Torah contains no commandment concerning the
lighting of Sabbath candles. However, at some point after the giving of the Law at Mt. Sinai,
the fulfillment of the mitzvot concerning Sabbath observance began to include candle
lighting. Jews continued this practice after their wanderings in the dessert.
Once settled in the
Promised Land, when candles were lit in Jewish homes each Friday, women likely were the ones to
do the honor. Prior to the construction of the First Temple in Jerusalem, most rituals
were performed in the home. Since this was the woman’s domain, Jewish women had much to
do with ritual preparation, creation of sacred space and performance of rituals within those
confines.
In fact, at that time in
history, much like Hinduism, Judaism was a householder religion conducted primarily in
individual homes. Therefore, most rabbis before 1000 C.E. agree that the task of candle
lighting was performed by women on Friday evenings. This makes sense since the men were praying
together elsewhere at that time of day, while the women remained at home finishing their
Shabbat preparations. Additionally, from a more practical standpoint, if the women
didn’t light the candles or Shabbat lamps, the family would eat dinner in the dark.
Lighting them after sundown would constitute work, which is forbidden on the Sabbath.
The Temple Period (1006
BCE – 70 CE) welcomed in a time of grand rituals, all of which were performed by the priests in
the Temple. Since many people lived too far from Jerusalem to travel there other than for
festivals, we can assume that candle lighting still took place in many homes on Friday
evenings. However, as mentioned earlier, each Friday evening the kohenim lit the
Temple’s lights.
During the Second Temple
Period (515 BCE–70 CE), the nature of Shabbat became the subject of debate, and the
outcome of those discussions and arguments shaped subsequent Jewish practice. The
Pharisees, the forerunners of the rabbis, declared the lighting of the Shabbat and yom
tov candles a precept that only much later developed the ritual characteristics we recognize
today. Therefore, candles must have been lit in the home as well as in the temple during this
time.
After the destruction of
the Second Temple in 70 C.E., Judaism once again became a householder religion. Shabbat
observance now came under the purview of rabbis, who have interpreted its meaning and practice
ever since. Women, who had lost much of their religious or ritual authority during the Temple
Period, once again became intricately involved with creating sacred space for holidays and
festivals within the home. Jewish men maintained the habit of worshiping together each
morning and late afternoon, so women took on – or, in many cases, continued – the mitzvah
of candle lighting.
Interestingly, even
though the candle-lighting ritual is performed traditionally by women, the obligation of
lighting the Shabbat candles belongs to both men and women. If a woman is not at
home to light the candles, the man can do it himself. If the woman lights the candles
without the husband present, and she does so with the intention of fulfilling the mitzvah
for the whole family, the man’s obligation is fulfilled conveniently for him.
Despite the status of
candle lighting as a religious obligation, for many years the lighting remained a simple act
with no ritual components. During the late 11th Century, however, Ashkenazi
women in Northern and Eastern Europe, who enjoyed a greater religious status and autonomy than
their Sephardic (Southern European, Middle Eastern and Mediterranean) friends, took it upon
themselves to become more ritually observant. In the process, they noticed that most of the
mitzvot from which women were exempt were accompanied by a blessing, yet the lighting of
the Sabbath candles, a mitzvot to which they were obligated, was not.
When confronted with this
issue, the great French Talmudist Rabbi Shlomo Yitzhaki (1040-1105), known to most as Rashi,
agreed that a blessing should be said along with the fulfillment of the mitzvah of
nerot. His grandson, Rabbeinu Tam, declared that a blessing was required. Seeking
out a source for such a prayer, a blessing for the lighting of the Chanukah menorah was
found in the Talmud and was adopted. By changing just the last word from “Chanukah” to
“Shabbat,” a ritual was born that has remained practically unchanged for the last 900
years. In possibly the first documented account of this full ritual, Rashi’s
granddaughter, Hannah, describes her mother performing the candle lighting and reciting the
blessing in exactly the same manner as Jewish women perform it today.
It’s Time to
Reclaim Our Power
As time went on, however,
Judaism moved many of its rituals and practices out of the home and into the synagogue, a
miniature version of the Temple. Retaining the tradition of male religious leadership, rabbis
began to officiate over ceremonies, rituals and services held within the synagogue’s sanctuary.
The Shabbat candle-lighting ritual also became a part of the Shabbat evening
service. Today, female members in most Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, and Reform
congregations are asked to kindle the Sabbath lights in the synagogue. With the ordination of
female rabbis in these same Jewish denominations, rabbis can fulfill this obligation for the
congregation as well.
With the focus of Jewish
life once more seemingly outside of the home and in a communal setting, many Jewish women feel
their ability to influence their religious experience has again been taken away. If you listen,
you can hear them voice this complaint often at the conclusion of Shabbat services.
I, too, have been heard
complaining that Friday night or Saturday morning synagogue services don’t feel spiritual or
meaningful to me. I often have summed up my time spent in services by saying, “I didn’t
have a spiritual experience,” or “The ritual felt empty to me.” Sometimes I even blamed the
service leader – male or female, saying, “The rabbi just doesn’t add any meaning or spirituality
to the service.”
I stopped complaining
when I realized I was responsible for my own experience – even when I am in the synagogue and
the services or rituals are led by someone else. When I have blamed a spiritual, religious or
ritual leader for my lack of a meaningful or spiritual experience or of a connection to the
Divine, I have denied my part in the equation. I have failed to take responsibility for
my own reactions, responses and experiences and to acknowledge that only I can create a
spiritual experience for myself. In other words, I have given away my power to Jewish
clergy.
In Judaism, rabbis and
cantors do not serve as intermediaries between humans and God or between the upper and lower
worlds; therefore, they cannot create for us a spiritual experience. Only we can accomplish that
conscious Divine connection for ourselves. And we can do so by using our kohanot ability
and position to create a sacred space and a meaning-full and spirit-full experience for
ourselves.
The priestess role offers
all Jewish women – not just those of us who desire religious or spiritual leadership roles
within a larger community but also those of us who simply want a spiritual practice for
ourselves and our families– a way every week to bring God into our own lives and into the lives
of those we love. It allows us to take back the power we might have given to clergymen
and clergywomen, and, instead, to create our own
sacred space in which we can worship God any time we like. It affords us the power to create our
own meaningful and spiritual rituals, prayers and experiences. It gives us an opportunity
to stop relying on someone else or some other place for our spiritual practice.
Once we have learned to
be kohanot, those of us who do desire communal leadership roles also can expand upon our
new-found abilities. When we feel comfortable with Shabbat and yom tov
candle lighting and with the creation of sacred space and meaningful and spiritual practices, we
can stop perceiving our role as one relegated to home-based observances and rituals. We can
enlarge our circle by including other Jewish women and their families. We can take on lay
leadership roles by forming or participating in Rosh Chodesh (New Moon) groups, and
creating our own rituals and prayers. Becoming a kohenet offers us many
possibilities, opportunities and realms within which we can lead ourselves and others in
meaning-full and spirit-full rituals and prayers.
Shabbat
Candle
Lighting as a Spiritual Practice
No matter if you want to
preside over a personal spiritual ritual or a communal one, I remain convinced that the best
place to begin lies simply in using Sabbath observance – in particular, the candle-lighting
ritual – as a spiritual practice. Shabbat provides Jewish women with a wonderful entryway
into spiritual practice. To me, the mitzvah of nerot seems a simple way to
get in synch with religious observance and tradition, and the candle-lighting ceremony provides
an easy ritual that anyone can learn.
Don’t, however, let its
simplicity fool you. The act of lighting these two candles each Friday evening actually serves
as a door into the spiritual dimension.
Let me explain. Even if
all we do is place the two candles on the table, light a match and touch it to the two wicks and
then recite the prescribed blessing, within a religious and spiritual context we consciously or
unconsciously have created sacred space and ushered in a sanctuary in time. Knowingly or
unknowingly, we also have drawn in the Shechinah and have helped in the unification of
male and female in the heavens as well as within ourselves. Whether we feel that
spiritual connection we seek or not, our actions constitute a spiritual practice. No
matter what kind of sacred space we create – simple or elaborate, if we then light the candles
and say the blessing in our mishkan, and we do so with kavanah to invite the
Shechinah to dwell there with us, we will feel the spiritual power of this ritual. We
will experience the Divine Presence.
Miraculously, all of this
is accomplished by simply lighting two little candles.
As Jewish women, we have
been asked to perform a sacred duty on Shabbat. It isn’t the man’s job (although he can
do it) to usher in Shabbat or other holidays with the lighting of candles. It is
ours. Thus, we should grab the opportunity, the gift presented to us, and embrace
it. We should use it for all it is worth – and it truly is priceless. Let’s not belittle
it by saying, “Oh, this is the only thing we are asked to do.” Rather, let’s revel in it by
declaring, “This is an awesome thing we are asked to do!”
How do we do
that? By lighting the Shabbat
candles.
“Big deal,” you might
say. It is. When women all over the world light the candles by 18 minutes before
sundown, we join in the ancestral ritual of creating sacred space. If we are knowledgeable and
aware, we then can take advantage of the spiritual technology of the ceremony itself. And when
we light the candles as a spiritual practice, preparing for and performing the ritual
consciously, we find that “something more” for which we have been searching. We no longer just
sense the reshimu; we exist in God’s light. We feel God’s presence inside and outside of
ourselves. In more simplistic terms, we have a spiritual experience.
Even though it seems easy
enough, women who didn’t grow up in homes where the candle-lighting ritual was performed by
their mothers or grandmothers may feel a bit put off by the idea of taking on this
ritual. They may be too afraid of mispronouncing the Hebrew words or lighting the candles
the “wrong way” to even try presiding over the ceremony. They may be too frightened to ask for
guidance, not wanting to look stupid or religiously uneducated, especially since the ritual
appears so simple. Now, with the additional knowledge of the amazing spiritual things that
happen when we light those two candles on Friday evening, some Jewish women truly might be too
filled with fear to begin this spiritual practice for themselves.
Let me assure you, then,
that you have no cause for fear. You can’t do it wrong. You can only do it right, but you can’t
do either if you don’t actually perform the candle-lighting ritual.
I began my kohanot
training on my own. I had no previous experience and no one to model, since my mother never lit
the Shabbat candles. I researched, learned, and practiced, and, through trial and error,
I learned how to become a kohenet in my home. No one ordained me as a priestess,
but I knew when I had become one. It happened the first time I took on this ritual as a
spiritual practice.
In my desire to be a more
observant Jew – by which I mean simply that I wanted to do something religious rather than
nothing at all, I decided to start with a ritual I could do at home. I figured no one but my
family would be watching, and, since they knew less than I did about the correct way to perform
the ritual, they’d never know if I was doing it right or wrong.
So, I began. I made
mistakes, but I heard no thunder and lightning, and I wasn’t struck down by a Divine hand. (My
family didn’t throw pieces of store-bought challah at me either.) Slowly but surely, I
became more adept at the ritual itself, and, as time went on, the practice became a spiritual,
as well as religious, one.
Given my experience, I
don’t think God cares if we get our religious observance right or not. God only cares
that we possess the kavanah of performing the ritual as a way to feel our connection with
the Divine.
When I feel struck by
religious performance fear, I remember the story of the shepherd minding his flock and his great
kavanah to connect with God through sincere prayer. Every day he would sit on a
large rock and pray to God, only he didn’t know any formal prayers. He knew only that he wanted
to pray to God. So, he would pray, “God, I love you so much that if it were raining, I’d give
you my raincoat. God, I love you so much that if I only had one loaf of bread and you
were hungry, I’d give you that loaf.”
One day a rabbi came
along and overheard the shepherd’s prayers. “That’s the wrong way to pray,” he told the
man and offered to teach him the correct way. The shepherd, who wanted God to hear his
prayers, quickly agreed. So, the rabbi taught him all the formal prayers and then
left. By the next morning, the poor shepherd already had forgotten his lesson. Too
afraid to pray the wrong way, he simply stopped praying.
It wasn’t long before God
noticed that he no longer heard the shepherd’s prayers, and he sent two angels to find out what
had happened to make the man stop praying. They found him on the rock, sitting sadly in
silence as he watched his goats. “Why have you stopped praying?” they asked him.
“Because I don’t know how
to pray correctly,” he explained.
“Ah,” said one of the
angels. “Let us take you to hear how the angels pray.” And they took him by both arms and brought him to the foot of
God’s throne. “Listen,” they said, and he did.
And what he heard amazed
him. The angels were praying, “God, I love you so much that if it were raining, I’d give
you my raincoat. God, I love you so much that if I only had one loaf of bread and you
were hungry, I’d give you that loaf.”
So, stop worrying and
start practicing. Don’t worry about the “rules” relating to the candle-lighting ritual. Just
remind yourself you don’t have to do it a certain way; you just have to do it. Make the
ritual your own. Do it even if you don’t think you are doing it quite right. If
your intention is pure and clear, the Shechinah will receive the invitation anyway, and
She will accept.
The Home as a
Vortex of Spiritual Energy
As I’ve
mentioned previously, in the process of preparing for and lighting the Shabbat candles,
we create a sacred space in our homes, a mishkan in which God can dwell with us. However,
I have not explained that once we have built a mikdash and used it often, it remains
there for us to use in numerous other wonderful ways and on a multitude of other occasions. By
creating and using this sacred space frequently, our homes become continuous sanctuaries for
ourselves, our families and our friends.
In addition to creating
sacred space each week for Shabbat, we can do so for the yearly observance of Passover
and Chanukah. That said, all the yearly holy days and festivals have some sort of
home-based component, even if it involves simply lighting the yom tov candles and
preparing a special meal. Each holiday is meant to be a time out from ordinary life to
experience the extraordinary aspects of life.
While the
sanctuary of our community synagogue consistently provides sacred space by virtue of the fact
that it was built for that reason and has been used for that purpose on a regular basis, our
Jewish homes can also become sanctuaries if we use them as such. By continually “building” a
mishkan in our home and using it for rituals and holiday observances, we create the same
sort of energy vortex found in holy places such as churches, Native American ritual sites, stone
circles, and ancient synagogues. Each time we create a mikdash in our home and then use
it for religious or spiritual rituals, the spiritual energy vortex there becomes larger and
stronger, and the Divine Feminine becomes more-easily accessed.
As
promised, when we build God a sanctuary, God dwells with us. As we use our houses more and more
often as sanctuaries, then by merely lighting candles, saying a blessing or touching the
mezuzah on the door as we enter, we once again draw God into that space. By taking on the
spiritual practice of Shabbat candle lighting, each week it will become easier for us to
feel the Shechinah joining us. And before long, we will find the Shechinah a
frequent guest – if not a permanent resident – in our homes and in our lives.
Priestesses Here,
There and Everywhere
In this day and age, we
have the freedom and ability to be creative with our Shabbat observance and to add
whatever makes the experience of Shabbat preparations and candle lighting more
meaning-full and spirit-full for us and our families. We can renew the old rituals and
prayers by making them our own and by filling what might have been empty practices with meaning
and spirit. We can create our own rituals, as did our ancestors. After all, all
rituals – even those most time worn and loved – were “made up” by someone. The more
religiously observant would say our changes need to fall within the realm of halachah
(law), but, again, in our homes we have some leeway – and I believe God appreciates our
kavanah more than our adherence to law.
Once we know how to
create a Sabbath sanctuary, once we have experienced Shabbat to whatever degree we can –
be it simply by lighting Shabbat candles or by taking 25 hours of rest, the
Kabbalists (Jewish mystics) say we must take that energy and extend it into the work
week. When we can actually continue the Sabbath by keeping the spiritual energy going
despite the fact that we need to shop, work and care for children, then we have observed
Shabbat well. When we remain aware of the rechimu from Sunday through
Friday evening and allow the residual “smell” of God’s “wine” to remind us that the
Shechinah dwells with us all week long, then we truly have observed Shabbat.
In other words, if we
make it such, each day, in and of itself, becomes a sacred space in which to experience the
Divine Presence. And that is what this book truly is about: learning how continuously to create sacred spaces and
transform empty practices into meaning-full and spirit-full rituals and prayers so we constantly
can feel our connection to the Divine. And it is about us – Jewish women – coming into our
spiritual power by embracing our role as priestesses and making our homes into sanctuaries where
we can experience God at all times.
Finally, this book is
about sending an invitation to God. Shabbat represents a holy convocation, or
k’ru’im, a Hebrew word that means “invited.”
Shabbat is an invitation to a weekly, Divine gathering where we can experience God. If we
send the invitation and make ourselves and our homes ready to receive our guest, the
Shechinah will not only accept our invitation, She will actually come to join us.
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