Wednesday, October 06, 2004
What is the Shekhinah?
I am reading an article about a renowned scholar who is currently translating the several volumes of the Kabbalah from Aramaic into English. The scholar explains that the word "Kabbalah" means receiving, being open to new insights about God or the nature of reality. And the primary book of the Kabbalah is the Zohar, which means radiance or splendor.
He then goes on to explain that God in this mystical system is equally male and female. The name of God as female is "Shekhinah" or the presence of God. We humans are charged to make God whole in our lives by bringing the two halves together. "We do that by ethical living."
He adds, "God is infinite energy." The Kabbalah has "insights that are important for any spiritual seeker."
His explanations left me with questions. Somehow, I had associated the Shekhinah with bliss itself, descent of supreme rapture, ecstasy even. In other words, I had assumed it was a manifestation of the energies of kundalini herself, the one some call the goddess above all goddesses. If my assumption is true, this would explain why the study of this esoteric approach to the divine was always confined to a carefully chosen few, why the student was not allowed to begin his studies until he had reached the mature age of forty, why Kabbalists were viewed with suspicion as members of a group with questionable motives.
Where had I gotten such notions? I decided to look up the word "shekhinah" in some of the books by earlier feminist writers exploring the whole area of feminine spirituality.
Shekhinah was given various interpretations as the feminine principle. Many were the attributes commonly associated with the idea of female: kind, loving, compassionate, nurturant, gentle, motherly--the familiar list.
But nobody mentioned bliss. No one alluded to ecstacy. Energy, yes. Ecstasy, no.
Somehow, these writers appeared to have missed a key element. If indeed "god" in female form is receptive, if the divine is energy, if woman is body-centered, if feeling is the realm of the female--how could bliss not be present?
In yogic philosophy, Shiva is likewise a dual god--shakti being his female half. And "shakti" is the term commonly used to refer to the divine energy which literally enters the body of the devotee and bestows ineffable bliss as a sign of union.
In the course of my research, I came across an account of an early "spiritual initiation" of Marion Woodman, the renowned Jungian psychologist known especially for her work in dream interpretation.
When the (Episcopalian) bishop placed his hands on her head in her confirmation ceremony, a shock of energy raced through her body. "The light in my head was so brilliant that for an instant I couldn't see anything." Shaktipat? Kundalini? the Shekhinah?
However, Marion ultimately decided that she didn't want a priest standing between her and the experience of the sacred. In the privacy of her own living room, "she enters the unknown through her own body." She explains: "I stand with my arms outstretched or dance or lie flat on the floor and listen with my whole body. This is my connection to Sophia, to the Shekhinah."
I wonder how many of us do the same. We may give it another name, but it is the divine encounter, the holy embrace, piercing our very cells and molecules in ultimate love.
(Note: I do not mean to minimize in the least the role of compassion, of thoughtful action, or of ethical conduct in human affairs, but merely want to say there is also something more. God is more than an insight. God is also a feeling, and to ignore that feeling is to cut god in half once more.)
He then goes on to explain that God in this mystical system is equally male and female. The name of God as female is "Shekhinah" or the presence of God. We humans are charged to make God whole in our lives by bringing the two halves together. "We do that by ethical living."
He adds, "God is infinite energy." The Kabbalah has "insights that are important for any spiritual seeker."
His explanations left me with questions. Somehow, I had associated the Shekhinah with bliss itself, descent of supreme rapture, ecstasy even. In other words, I had assumed it was a manifestation of the energies of kundalini herself, the one some call the goddess above all goddesses. If my assumption is true, this would explain why the study of this esoteric approach to the divine was always confined to a carefully chosen few, why the student was not allowed to begin his studies until he had reached the mature age of forty, why Kabbalists were viewed with suspicion as members of a group with questionable motives.
Where had I gotten such notions? I decided to look up the word "shekhinah" in some of the books by earlier feminist writers exploring the whole area of feminine spirituality.
Shekhinah was given various interpretations as the feminine principle. Many were the attributes commonly associated with the idea of female: kind, loving, compassionate, nurturant, gentle, motherly--the familiar list.
But nobody mentioned bliss. No one alluded to ecstacy. Energy, yes. Ecstasy, no.
Somehow, these writers appeared to have missed a key element. If indeed "god" in female form is receptive, if the divine is energy, if woman is body-centered, if feeling is the realm of the female--how could bliss not be present?
In yogic philosophy, Shiva is likewise a dual god--shakti being his female half. And "shakti" is the term commonly used to refer to the divine energy which literally enters the body of the devotee and bestows ineffable bliss as a sign of union.
In the course of my research, I came across an account of an early "spiritual initiation" of Marion Woodman, the renowned Jungian psychologist known especially for her work in dream interpretation.
When the (Episcopalian) bishop placed his hands on her head in her confirmation ceremony, a shock of energy raced through her body. "The light in my head was so brilliant that for an instant I couldn't see anything." Shaktipat? Kundalini? the Shekhinah?
However, Marion ultimately decided that she didn't want a priest standing between her and the experience of the sacred. In the privacy of her own living room, "she enters the unknown through her own body." She explains: "I stand with my arms outstretched or dance or lie flat on the floor and listen with my whole body. This is my connection to Sophia, to the Shekhinah."
I wonder how many of us do the same. We may give it another name, but it is the divine encounter, the holy embrace, piercing our very cells and molecules in ultimate love.
(Note: I do not mean to minimize in the least the role of compassion, of thoughtful action, or of ethical conduct in human affairs, but merely want to say there is also something more. God is more than an insight. God is also a feeling, and to ignore that feeling is to cut god in half once more.)
