Divine Experimentation

by Dan Pelberg

“There are no rules in the service of God, and this itself is no rule.”

– Rabbi Jacob Isaac Ben Asher (The Yehudi) of Przysucha

In the 16^th Century C.E., Tzfat was the center of spiritual life for the Jewish people. Shlomo Alkabetz was constructing Lecha Dodi, while the Ari (Rabbi Isaac Luria) donned white clothing to go out into the fields to welcome shabbat in a way that had never been seen before.

Over 1,200 years prior to the creation of these beautiful shabbat melodies, a man was penning a tradition that was never intended to be formally written. Judah the Prince recognized the need for something radical during his time, something that was likely shunned by his community. In his writing of the Mishneh, Judah knew that in order for the Jewish tradition to continue, and for the lineage to remain intact, something radical had to be done.

Times such as these are looked back upon as sparks of inspiration that carry forward with the Jewish people until this day. These are seminal moments which serve as pointers we today can use to identify why and how we celebrate and express our Jewish tradition today. As time passes we idolize such individuals for their actions and make assumptions that these actions were taken with absolute certainty and clarity. Moments such as these are often pointed at as Divine moments in history where individuals knew exactly what was needed of them and acted in ways which created connection to the Divine and preserved the Jewish tradition for generations.

Yet, what is more likely is these spiritual and religious innovators struggled with the same questions, problems, and insecurities as our own. As a result, it was experimentation, not certainty, which was the driving force of moving our religion forward. We can imagine: What other forms of ritual shabbat connection did the Ari partake in before his feeling of true shabbat connection was found? How many rough drafts of the Mishnah did Judah the Prince go through before honing in on what we know as the final version today?

Why don’t we see that these Divine moments of inspiration were preceded by infinite moments of messy investigation, trials, testing, and even failures. Why don’t we acknowledge Divine Experimentation?

. . .

For the first twenty-five years of my life I was not religiously Jewish. While my family retained many aspects of cultural Judaism which stuck with me throughout my childhood, none of the religious doctrine made its way to my core. Passover seders and Chanukah candle lighting were always remembered fondly because of the familial connection they brought, not because of any religious or spiritual connection felt. So, when I decided to start living a more religious life, I did not feel obligated to follow any one set of laws or customs. I was a blank canvas that could be colored by what felt most natural and holy.

I took note of how it felt to take on ancient practices passed down over centuries, taking my time so as to remain true to my authentic self. One day I would recite the amidah in its full liturgy and the next day I would throw the liturgy out the window, and instead focus on one phrase or line which spoke to me in that moment. The following day I might then wake up and wrap tefillin in preparation for my morning meditation sit. Regardless of what the experiment consisted of, it constantly pushed me to explore what made me feel connected to my Jewish identity and sense of self.

At times this wasn’t so easy, and as a result I often felt like a stranger in many communities I would enter. After learning the laws of tzit-tzit, I began to partake in the practice. But upon understanding that wearing a kippah was not a Torah-commandment, I decided to opt out of the traditional head covering, leaving me looking somewhere between a member of the Orthodox Jewish community and a Jew for Jesus. This just left most people feeling confused, some even to the point of asking me directly about the oddity of my personal practice. Still, it was obvious to me that the only way to grow my connection to the Divine was to take the framework passed down to me from my ancestors and struggle with it in a personal way.

Through my own experiences I have come to realize that struggling with new personal practices and connection isn’t a negative, but instead, Divine Experimentation. It is in these places where seeking a personal connection with God meets the willingness to fail, all while rooted in the tradition and lineage that have preceded us. It is here where we honor the past by finding new ways to connect in a world which is always changing. I strongly believe the future of Jewish life will not only allow for Divine Experimentation, it will wholeheartedly embrace it.

. . .

Experimentation might seem okay when it comes to a cooking recipe or reading a new book, but why isn’t it accepted in a religious context? In other areas of our lives we are told that failing is okay. We are told to try new things, regardless of the outcome. Yet, there is a disconnect from this principle when it comes to our religious and spiritual lives.

When we all can experiment together, there is the space for new creations to be unearthed. Communities form out of individuals seeking new forms of connection on their own, and finding like-minded seekers looking to push boundaries in the same fashion. These communities are already popping up to fulfil the need of religious exploration in a variety of ways. Pluralistic yeshivas, Jewish agriculture initiatives, social activist platforms, and immersive retreat experiences are just some forms of community that are being born from the desire for individual’s to grow their connection to God, together. These avenues give participants the ability to step outside their comfort zone to try new things and experiment their way towards a connection with the Divine.

Some of the strongest communities I have experienced are one’s that respect each other’s individuality while also holding space for the community as a whole. Communities in which I am given the opportunity to interact with other spiritual seekers to push my own ideas about what it means to connect to a world greater than myself, and learn from those people who have experimented in their own ways which might never have crossed my mind.

. . .

Experimentation within the religious world is seen as strange at best and heretical at worst. Tradition has been so highly valued that the resulting effect has left individuals hesitant to break the mold placed before them, fearing ridicule from the very communities which claim to support them. This makes it easier to be a lemming, following along with what everyone else is doing and not feel any connection, then to be seen as the lone wolf.

However, it’s not in the history of the Jewish tradition to remain stagnant. In fact, it is just the opposite. We are urged to continue conversations and disagreements originating thousands of years ago and embody Jewish values in today’s world. Through this discourse have come some of the most magnificent ideas and values, even spawning entire religious denominations along the way. Go back to our flamboyant characters in Tzfat, radically altering what it meant to go out and meet the shabbat queen. Or peer into the traditional siddur and see how recently new liturgy was added and/or changed.

As communities we need shared tradition in order to stay together as one cohesive unit. It is one of the most comforting things to know that I can go to over a hundred countries on the planet and be able to find a shabbat meal to attend on a Friday night, as exemplified in my recent trip to China. But as individuals we are not shown various access points of connection to the Divine and to those around us. There is a prescription that has been handed down, rarely altered, and given over as a cure for those off the derech. Yet, the way one individual connects may be of a completely different variety than another. What is important is giving individuals the opportunity to experiment within the confines of tradition (with the Jewish tradition being a broad stroke), even if it means trying things that make us feel uncomfortable as a people.

. . .

I often wonder what our ancestors would have thought about the way we practice our Judaism. Would they be proud that we have kept so much of the tradition alive? Or, would they be disappointed that we haven’t taken their teachings and created new traditions through our own personal process?

It doesn’t have to be such a daunting task. In fact, according to Moses Maimonedies on his commentary of the Mishnah, just by doing one act with full intention and open-heartedness, someone can fulfill their obligation in this world:

It is among the fundamental principles of the Torah that when an individual fulfills one of the 613 commandments in a fit and proper manner, not combining with it any aspect of worldly intent but rather doing it for its own sake, out of love, then they merit the World to Come through this single act. (Rambam on Mishnah Makkot 3:16)

In many ways we are provided a blueprint by those who came before us about how to carry out these actions. But much of the time we are left to our own devices to find the point of connection where we can perform an act out of love. Therefore, each commandment or piece of Torah on its own is an access point for connection. Maimonides isn’t telling us how to fulfill the commandments, he is simply reminding us that what matters is the intention and love behind the act itself.

This is where Divine Experimentation can begin, with intention. Throw away the old playbook which says there is only one way to pray, one way to perform tzedakah, or one way to perform any of the 613 mitzvot. Instead, use your deep sense of wonder and exploration to find how you can carry out a good deed out of love. Find one piece of Jewish text, prayer, or tradition that inspires you. Then, strive to take that piece and make it your own. Live inside the text, and let it absorb you until the only thing left to do is act. Step out of the box of how you think you are supposed to pray, learn, or absorb our faith, and let yourself be absorbed fully by what is in front of you.

It's always nerve-racking to do something different or that goes against the grain. But in this experimentation failure doesn’t really exist. That’s because there is nothing to do right, and nothing to do wrong. All we can do is be ourselves in the process of learning what and where we can find our own access points of connection to the ineffable and the world around us. In these ways, Divine Experimentation will always prove to be the antidote to stale forms of connection which drive many people away from Jewish life altogether.