Understanding ‘thin places’ where heaven, earth link
I am a Reform Cantor, educated at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, the seminary that trains liberal Jewish clergy. I practice and teach normative Judaism. There is nothing far out about what I think or what I teach.
During my student days, I studied the sacred books of the Jewish People, in addition to all aspects of Jewish music and other subjects related to functioning as a Jewish professional. We touched on the Zohar, the Book of Jewish Mysticism.
I am not a particularly mystical person but rather intellectual and rational. However, I have experienced moments in my life where I have felt the Divine Presence. These moments have come during the High Holyday Services when my voice is soaring, connecting to the generations of Jews before me and it feels like the Almighty is singing through me. These moments have occurred only a few times during my 38 years as an ordained cantor. Would I describe this as a mystical experience? Yes, I would.
On the other hand, I have not had a mystical experience brought on by a place. That is, until last month when I was visiting my children in Israel. I recently read an article entitled “Understanding the ‘Thin Places’(Where heaven and earth come together).” It was written by the Crossing Team on their Blog, The Crossing Blog.
It begins with a paraphrase of a quote by Soren Kierkegaard, “After decades of wandering only now does a pattern emerge. I have found that I’m drawn to places that beguile and inspire, sedate and stir, places, where, for a few blissful moments I loosen my death grip on life, and can breathe again.” The writer continues, “It turns out these destinations have a name: Thin Places.
“Thin places are locations where the distance between heaven and earth sort of collapses, and we’re able to catch glimpses of the Divine, or the
Transcendent — or as I like to think of it, the Infinite.” Thin Places are places on earth that allow people to feel God’s presence in a real and palpable way. The mystics believed this and there is a place in Israel where Jews who believe in Kabbalah and study the Zohar go to experience the “thinness” of the world. It is the tomb of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, the Rashbi as he is called, where he is believed to be buried. The Rashbi is thought to be the originator of Jewish Mysticism. The tomb is located on Mt. Meron in the north of Israel near
the mystical city of Safed.
The Rashbi spent 14 years in a cave escaping from the oppression of the Romans who vanquished Jerusalem. During those 14 years, he laid the groundwork for the mystical tradition. Thousands of people come to his tomb as it is thought to be one of the holiest sites in the world.
My husband and I decided to visit the tomb. Most of the people visiting the tomb are Chassidim, quite observant individuals. The tomb is separated by a wall — women on one side, men on the other. The services that were conducted on the men’s side were easily heard by the women so that they could be involved in the praying of the men. In the middle of the room, there was a large boulder covered by a cloth and the women were standing around it, touching it and praying. I was the only woman in jeans. I did not look like anyone else. I went over to the rock and placed my hand on it and offered prayers to the Almighty. I was not expecting to feel anything in particular. What happened next was that I felt the presence of God.
I am a Reform Jew, yet this ancient spot filled with the faithful moved me and I understood why they visited the Rashbi’s final resting place. It was a place of the thin line between heaven and earth. Of course, this is an inexplicable event. I cannot understand exactly what or why I felt as I did. It was just one of those moments in life where, to paraphrase the unlikely mystic Ludwig Wittgenstein, speech is insufficient and all you can do is point.