Do you ever question your beliefs about Your religion? Do you question God’s word, the value of the commandments, the teachings of the forefathers, the meaning of the rituals and prayers?

They say the Jewish people are God wrestlers. We don’t always accept God’s word or anything to do with our religion without questions, without wanting to understand why, without pondering the value, the validity, the truth of what we are told or asked to do.

Yet, Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, or some other religion, sometimes we get stuck in fear—fear that if we don’t listen to God’s word, believe every single word we hear and do as those words command—something bad might happen. We might be struck down by lightning, fall from grace, not live another year, not receive God’s goodness. Then we stop wrestling with God.

It takes a lot to move out of that fear and to begin questioning again, wrestling again.

I was pleased this week to find a current example of someone who moved through that fear and began God wrestling—and did so in the public eye. I read in a JTA article that Chassidic reggae musician and singer Matisyahu publicly shaved off his beard and peyes and uploaded a picture of himself clean shaven on Twitter on December 13. Along with it, he posted this message:

“This morning I posted a photo of myself on Twitter.

“No more Chassidic reggae superstar.

“Sorry folks, all you get is me…no alias. When I started becoming religious 10 years ago it was a very natural and organic process. It was my choice. My journey to discover my roots and explore Jewish spirituality—not through books but through real life. At a certain point I felt the need to submit to a higher level of religiosity…to move away from my intuition and to accept an ultimate truth. I felt that in order to become a good person I needed rules—lots of them—or else I would somehow fall apart. I am reclaiming myself. Trusting my goodness and my divine mission.”

The next day, December 14, the JTA ran another story. In it he explained this decision in more detail during an interview WNYC’s Soundcheck. He began growing his beard when he became religious. The decision not to shave was based on a teaching from Kabbalah that the beard is a manifestation of the 13 divine attributes of mercy, he explained. (Learn about the 13 Attributes here.) He feared that if he were to shave the beard, he would no longer be privy to those blessings of mercy.

Recently, however, he asked himself, “How can [God’s mercy] possibly be connected to me shaving or not? And I began, over the last few weeks, I went through a pretty major transformation, probably bigger than any in my life, due to several things, but a lot of revelations and a lot of realizations started coming clear to me, and I realized just like these fears that I have, the idea that God’s mercy is connected to whether I shave or not is ludicrous. And I just need to trust myself, and that if I’m deserving of God’s mercy, I’ll get it regardless.”

That’s a big jump…to trust your own goodness and to trust God to be merciful whether you follow His commandments or not. Orthodox, or observant, Jews, live within the confines of God’s laws, God’s mitzvot. They offer structure. They offer a way of life. They offer a means by which to be a good Jew, a mensch.

Yet, here we see someone coming out of that world and saying, “I think I can be a mensch, I think I can be a good person, a spiritual and religious person deserving of God’s grace and mercy without observing every single mitzvah—every commandment.”

And haven’t those of us who are not that religious wondered what would happen—in the reverse—if I suddenly became more observant? Would God be more gracious, more merciful? Would my prayers be answered?

But maybe it’s simply about being a good person, about being deserving—beard or no beard.

What about you? Do you wrestle with God? Do you question your beliefs? And do you occasionally shave  (or have you ever shaved) your beard—metaphorical or real—to see what might happen?

My husband and I were discussing how we react to things that happen in our lives. We have very different approaches to what could be seen as “irritations” that occur. I tend to take what I call a more “spiritual” approach; he tend to take what I call a more “reactive” approach.

I’m not saying I don’t even get upset or angry over things that happen, but I try to switch gears quickly, problem solve and stay pretty positive and grateful. My husband, on the other hand, tends to just get angry and upset and to feel like a victim to circumstance. It becomes hard for him to see anything positive–any upside or opportunity.

So, for example, when our state tax refund showed up just in time to pay for the property taxes and my son’s summer dance program (both of which we were going to have to pay for out of our savings account), he saw that as something about which to be upset rather than happy. The money that we had just received went out the door as fast as it came in.

And when my old car died just as we were about to get our federal tax return, which we hoped to save, again this was something about which to feel angry.

I wasn’t pleased about spending the money we could have saved, but in both cases I simply accepted the fact that we had expenses–and we had been provided with the means to meet them. I felt grateful that we didn’t have to go into debt or deplete our savings. I also didn’t spend a lot of time getting upset or angry about the situation–or shaking my fist at God.

Rather I felt as if God were acting as my partner. As always, I believed in some way shape or form God’s hand was in all of this. I knew I just needed to trust that everything was okay and would be okay. I knew I just needed to feel connected.

Interestingly enough, this morning after more discussions with my husband about new cars and money, I got an email from one of my favorite rabbi–a man and teacher who has helped me with my own writing projects and who put me on the Jewish mystical (and Jewish spiritual) path. I took the time to visit Rabbi David Cooper’s website and found a post there that spoke to this point (and inspired my post today). In reading Rabbi Cooper’s words I was reminded how hard we must work every day to stay conscious and connected to Source, to not react to what we are presented with in our lives each day but instead to respond. That’s why we must stay on the spiritual path no matter how hard that feels, engaging in some sort of spiritual practice. And, and I’ve said before, it does take practice to stay conscious and connected. It doesn’t happen without effort and daily–almost hourly or minute-to-minute–sessions.

Rabbi Cooper writes:

The purpose of spiritual practice is to gently and consistently move us from our place, where we normally “hang out” in our day-to-day behavior, to a mind state of greater refinement. In this context, refinement is connected with our conditioning, our normal reflexes and responses to situations that arise every day. Through practice, we begin to reflect and react in different ways. This change in our behavior actually causes many significant results.

Spiritual practice, is this context, has a series of tiny ekstasis that arise when we behave out of place of our normal reactions. We must keep in mind that “normal” for most of us is quite different from “natural.” Normal is how we are conditioned to respond. Conditioning develops from the time we are conceived; some say that our propensities to be conditioned go back into our genetic dna. But the spiritual principal at the base of many traditions is that our natural inclinations arise when we fully recognize the basic nature of our own minds and thereby gain greater ability to resist conditioned reactions.

Through our spiritual practice we learn to respond rather than react, to stay connected and conscious. Another of my teachers, author Stuart Wilde, says this is like spiritual weight lifting. We become stronger, more able to change how we react to the irritations in our life–the situations that arise–by constantly practicing remaining conscious and connected no matter what arises–in spite of what arises–in our lives. Life becomes our training ground, our gym, our practice field.

Little by little, day by day, hour by hour we change simply by living. As Rabbi Cooper writes:

Skilled practice results from an ongoing engagement in the mystery of what everyday life presents. As we never know what life will bring, we need always to be prepared to meet this unknowable reality with our highest potential. Thus, to the best of our ability, we continuously are challenged to bring our awareness to the many opportunities that present themselves as a series of invitations for manifesting enlightened actions. Each and every time we succeed, we change the world.

I’ve still got a long way to go–a lot of practice before I become truly “awakened” or “enlightened.” I still react more than I’d like; I still get irritated by the irritations. I notice this when I angrily respond to the fact that my son forgot an essential item that prevented him from taking dance class–after I drove an hour and a half to take him there, the shelf in my living room has not been replaced by my husband after five months or the insurance agent takes two hours to ask me questions I already answered once before. So, you’ll find me in my spiritual gym on most days lifting weights in an effort to become more awakened.

As Rabbi Cooper explains:

The highest teachings are explicit in describing the idea that our most enlightened opportunities occur in the ordinary daily life we now experience. The difference is that one who is awakened recognizes the essential nature of what is happening while one who is not awakened is easily overwhelmed by an ongoing flow of “self” induced dramas.

To rid ourselves of this sense of drama, Rabbi Cooper says we must rid ourselves of the belief that we are separate. When we do so, we also lose many of the harmful actions, false beliefs, negative reactions, confusion, irritation, and suffering that go with it.

Instead of believing we are separate–something most of us have believed for a long, long time–we must remember we are connected and always have been. Connection is our normal state of being. We only think we are separate from the Source; the thought doesn’t happen to represent truth.  It’s a meme, a thought given to you by someone else that you adopted. You can choose to adopt the thought that you are connected instead, but knowing and feeling this connection comes with spiritual practice.

Some people end up feeling too irritated, too angry, and they fall off the spiritual path before they can change their reactions or thoughts. They leave the spiritual gym seeing no results from their efforts. They feel alone in their work there and without a personal trainer. They don’t feel connected, so they go off alone blaming the gym and it’s Proprietor for their failure. They don’t realize that if they don’t stay in spiritual shape, bit by bit, parts of their life start feeling harder and harder. Without connection and consciousness, everything begins to feel like an irritation and a struggle.You get stuck reacting to irritations in your life in the same old way you always have.

Is that what you want? I don’t. So I look for “enlightened opportunities” as they occur in my ordinary daily life to respond in conscious and connected manner. I lift spiritual weights daily. Sometimes I’m not strong enough to do all the sets, but I keep lifting.

How do you react to the irritations in your life?

Have you ever heard a piece of music and found yourself crying as you listened to the words or melody? Have you ever watched a movie and cried the whole way through even though no one else found it sad? Have you ever sat in a religious service and felt moved to tears? Have you ever listened to children laughing or singing or playing instruments and had your eyes well up?

These are the times when you know your spirit is speaking to you, your soul is telling you what it yearns for.

I had an experience like this today. I turned on the music of Julie Silver, a Jewish singer, while driving in the car. My daughter once had the chance to sing with her. A whole group of young children provided her with back-up vocals. As I began to listen, I also began to cry. How my soul yearned for those much more simple days when I was much more connected to my religion and had more time for my spiritual life and quest. I cried for what I was missing–and wanting.

Pay attention to the stirrings of your soul. Listen to what your spirit tells you. Sometimes sadness and tears provide important messages that we should heed.

What does your soul yearn for? Do you know?

I write a national column about Jewish issues for Examiner.com. Every once in a while I hit on a topic that brings the hate mongers out. These are people who have nothing nice to say about Jews in particular and whose day becomes brighter when they can leave a really nasty comment somewhere.

I used to delete the comments. I didn’t want them tainting my column. Then another columnist told me to leave them there because they stir other people to comment as well.

Yet it never fails to amaze me–and disturb me–that such hateful and prejudiced people exist in the world. What do they get out of feeling and behaving in this manner? Do they have such a high need to be right or superior? It’s scary really–especially for a Jew.

After reading two hateful comments on my column today, I thought about how to go about counteracting such hate and create peace. I came up with just one answer: respond with love. 

To change the world as a whole and the people in it who are consumed by their hate and their prejudice we must exude love…love for them and for everyone. We must make our predominant way of being in the world one of expressing love. We must look for love everywhere and leave signs of love wherever we go (see the photo for just one idea).

I know that isn’t easy. I am often angry, judgemental and other things and emotions far from love. We can strive to be and express love, though. In the process, we will put out more love than before.

Love has a vibration. That vibration can change the world. It may not change the hate mongers of the world, but it surely can make the rest of us feel better and create a wave of love that makes them and their hate insignificant.

Have you ever felt like you’ve been trying your hardest to do the “right thing” or to perform a “mitzvah” (good deed), but you sense that something just isn’t right? Have you ever been focused on doing good but found that something about your actions felt so wrong?

Maybe you weren’t fulfilling your soul’s purpose. Maybe you were doing the wrong good deeds or performing the wrong mitzvot for you. Yes…that’s possible.

Rabbi Manchem Mendel Schneerson said:

We are each given a mission to fulfill during the course of our lives. we are also allocated the requisite number of days in which to fulfill this mission; we are given neither one moment too many nor one moment too few. Every day or moment that is not utilized in fulfillment of its particular mission is not only a waste of that particular moment, but an abuse of the mission entrusted to us by the King of all Kings, Almighty God, blessed be He. This is true even if we are engaged in a good endeavor, but not related to our particular mission.

When I read this quote last night while attending a class taught at my local Chabad House, I was struck by how often I feel I am trying to do good, how often I am trying to do the right thing, and how often I feel I am losing time and off course from what I am supposed to be doing.

Many of us feel this. We feel we must take a certain job to support our families rather than one that we’ve always dreamed of having. We feel we must help the person who asks for help even though it prevents us from completing a person projects dear to our hearts. We feel we must volunteer for a particular charity even though we want to put in time for a different one. And then we come home with regrets and a feeling of incompleteness and emptiness. We feel unfulfilled, unhappy and as if we are simply surviving rather than thriving. We sense that something essential in our nature is not being allowed to grow and prosper–and to give to the world.

Rabbi Schneerson’s words spoke to me. It called out to me. It yelled at me. It said, “You must fulfill your soul’s purpose now, not later. You are losing time!”

I know that only when each and every one of us is taking right action towards fulfilling our soul’s purpose–our own mission–will we manifest the things we want and need in our lives.

Yes, it is possible to do good while doing wrong on a soul level. That, it seem is easy. Many of us do this. The harder thing involves doing good while doing right on a soul level.

Actually, this only feel hard at first. I’m sure that once you and I take that step and begin doing the right thing, the good thing, the mitzvah that allows us to fulfill our mission on this earth, we will find that everything flows easily and effortless. Thus, continuing to do so will seem very easy. We will wonder why we didn’t do so long ago.

Today, after writing my most recent Jewish Issues Examiner column, I had to spend some time really considering how much I have allowed myself to become assimilated into secular culture. You see, my column was inspired by a JTA story I read about a Chabad rabbi in Russia trying to bring assimilated Jews there back to Judaism. I then wrote about how Jews in the United States, as well as all around the world, need to fight the same battle this rabbi is fighting alone–and which the Maccabee’s faught so long ago–the fight against Jewish assimilation into secular culture. (You can read my Jewish Issues column here.)

I’m not an Orthodox or observant Jew. I’m a spiritual Jew who tries to be somewhat observant–or, I should say, I used to try to be somewhat observant until secular life got in the way. When my work life and my husband’s work life and my children’s extracurricular activities took over our life, our Jewish life fell by the wayside. We stopped attending Friday night or Saturday services. We stopped going to adult ed classes through our synagogue or Jewish renewal chavurah.

As my husband became less interested in Judaism, which is another story, I also found it hard to make myself go to services and classes alone. I’d always had a partner with whom to do these things. It felt lonely to go by myself.

So, I opted to do what other people–and my husband–were doing. I took my children where they wanted to go or waited around for my children or worked late on Friday evenings. I carted my kids around on Saturdays, or I worked or did chores or ran errands.

We have kept our tradition of having Shabbat dinner every Friday night (almost…if we are home) and lighting candles and saying blessings for the candles, the wine and the challah, but the kavanah (intention) has fallen by the wayside, and we never bookend the Sabbath with Havdallah anymore like we used to do.

Tonight, my son pointed out that the meal I was eating wasn’t kosher. We don’t keep kosher. However, it would have been very easy for me simply to have made one food choice so that my would have been kosher. At that moment, I realized how far removed I have become from my religion.

I also realized the choices I can make every day that will bring me closer to my religion. I can easily (and sometimes not so easily) make large and small choices every day that will increase my Jewish practice, thus making me a better Jew. This also will help strengthen my Jewish identity, bring me closer to God and strengthen my sense of spiritual connection.

So, I ask you: As a Jew, how assimilated into secular culture are you? What choices can you make that would move you just a bit closer to Judaism?

Remember that old song, “Can’t live, when living is without you. Can’t live, can’t live any more!” I don’t know who sang it, but today the words are running through my mind with a slight variation on the words. “Can’t live, when living is focused on you.”

Yeah, that’s right. I admit it. I’ve been so damn focused on where my husband “is” right now with his spiritual path (or lack thereof) and his attitude towards life and his beliefs about God and about life, that I’ve not been living my life at all. In fact, I’ve been miserable. And I’ve been making him miserable. And I’ve been making our relationship miserable.

I’m a total believer in the fact that what we focus on expands. I know that when I am thinking about red convertibles, I definitely see more red convertibles on the road. Even if I’m not “creating” them, I’m more aware of them. In my own perception, I perceive more of them. It’s now different in my relationship experience and in my life experience. The more I focus on what I don’t like about how my husband is living his life and about how he is thinking and what he is believing, the more aware I become of all of this. And the more upset I become about it. And the more I see of it, and the more miserable I become. And that surely does not lead to me living my life fully at all.

So, while I was walking with a friend today, she basically told me to let my husband have his own spiritual path. She said he might not look like he’s on one right now, but his questioning and his disbelief might really just be one stop on his spiritual path. She reminded me that consciousness and spirituality are all about questioning and reevaluating and coming to new understandings of our beliefs. So, if he is angry and feeling like a victim, if he want to shout at God or not believe in God, if he wants to not believe in anything right now, maybe that is just part of his spiritual path. Maybe, like Jacob, he is wrestling with God right now, or needs to. And, she said, I should be compassionate and loving until he finds his way or comes to a new understanding.

Okay. Got it. I’ve been one complaining, unhappy, judgemental, impatient wife (there’s another word I could use, but I won’t.) — and not too spiritual either. And I’ve been spending all my time focused on him rather than on me, focused on what I perceive as not working, not right, not what I want rather than on what is working, what is right what is working.

Time to focus on what enlivens me, on what brings life into our relationship, on what helps me live fully. Maybe in the process, it will help him do the same. In either case, I’ll stop singing the blues.

I went to hear Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz speak last week. I was very excited to hear what he would have to say about Jewish mysticism, since I write about Kabbalah and have been a student of Jewish mysticism for some years now. Notice I say a student, not an expert; it matters not that I have written a small book on the subject. I still feel I am far from an expert on anything but the small little piece of Kabbalah that I think I understand.

But Rebbe Steinsaltz…now he is an expert. He wrote the classic book on Kabbalah, The Thirteen Petaled Rose. I read it this past summer. I loved it, and learned much from it.

Anyway, the Rebbe spoke about the fact that Kabbalah cannot be taken out of the greater works of Judaism or out of the way we as Jews live, but that as it has become a popular spiritual (a term he dislikes) path, of sorts, it has been cut out or away from its source. He said Jewish mysticism is part of the whole teaching of Judaism and equated studying it alone to taking a beautiful woman and cutting her into pieces. If we only had her nose or her mouth or her leg, we wouldn’t find that piece so beautiful, nor would it have much meaning to us, he explained. The beauty and meaning are found in context of the whole – the woman in totality. The same is true of Kabbalah. It is part of the whole we call Judaism. He explained that we can find Kabbalah in the blessing we say over the bread, in the prayer, “Lecha Dodi,” that we say on Friday nights to welcome the Sabbath, and in the prayer book we use every day. He said Kabbalah can be found in the way we as Jews live and think.

He stressed, however, that we have never lived or thought in a way that could be deemed “popular,” but now Kabbalah has not only been extracted from the whole of Judaism but made popular to boot. This popular Kabbalah, he seemed to say, is not really the Kabbalah of the Jews and shouldn’t be sold like a fashionable dress to anyone who simply wants to get in on the newest trend or be part of a fad that celebrities find appealing.

I’m no supporter of selling Kabbalah water and I don’t care what the rich and famous do, but I don’t have an issue with Kabbalah’s popularity. I have often wondered why celebrities find Kabbalah so attractive, but I believe that people like Madonna actually find that Jewish mysticism does something positive for their lives – adds something, changes them, enhances their perspective – otherwise they wouldn’t bother advocating this particular spiritual path or spending so much time and money supporting one particular spiritual group. If making Kabbalistic teachings accessible to people allows them to learn about Jewish mysticism, even out of the context of Jewish life and Judaism as a whole, offers people something they need and want – something that betters their lives and helps them improve themselves, isn’t that a good thing? I believe it is. So, it’s a fad. Who cares if some people benefit from it – and I don’t mean just those making money off of it. (I could be accused of the same, as could all those writing and selling books on the topic and teaching classes and seminars based on their books – and there are some very well-respected authors out there writing books on Kabbalah, including Rebbe Steinsaltz himself.)

We Jews know the truth; in Judaism, mysticism has always existed. Sometimes even within Judaism it was a fad and became popular. And at other times it was seen as bad and hidden away. But it was always there. It will remain there, but because it has become popular again within and without Judaism, more people will understand it and be able to use its principles and benefit from its teachings. Theymay not be immersed in Jewish life, that is true. Yet, they may get a glimmer of what that might be like. And if that person is a Jew, that glimmer might be enough to send that person seeking a more Jewish life.

I know that I have spoken to many Jews seeking a more spiritual Judaism. When we discuss some of the beliefs that are found within Jewish mysticism, they are thrilled and excited and want to learn more. They are eager to delve deeper and to explore Judaism in a way they have not in the past. Kabbalah brings them home again. It had the same affect on me, bringing me back into the fold of the religion of my birth after many years seeking “something more” elsewhere. It hasn’t made Madonna want to be a Jew, although she did choose a Hebrew name, nor did it make her want to lead a Jewish life. Yet, there might be some other non-Jews out there so influenced by Kabbalah that they are considering becoming Jews by Choice. That’s a good thing, too.

I didn’t agree with everything Rebbe Steinsaltz had to say, but I was glad I heard him speak. I’ll ponder his words for some time to come, I’m sure. And I’ll be happy to have his signature in my well-highlighted copy of his book.