Our prayer practice is a Path of Love.

But there are so many challenges to love that we must meet.

Thankfully, we have inherited an ancient treasure that can be excavated, refined, polished, and made useful in meeting the challenges of our day. To that end, we will journey with deep inquiry and profound celebration through eight themes that represent the means by which we meet those challenges on the Path of Love:

Gratefulness, Praise, Lament, Supplication, Exaltation, Revelation, Comfort,

and Encouragement.

I invite you to open this treasure, and use our sacred texts to explore these pathways, opening to the magic and the medicine of our inheritance. 

The Pathway of Gratefulness

When I step on to the Pathway of Gratefulness, I open to receive the flow of blessing AND I am connected with the Source of that flow. Gratefulness opens up the possibility of a profound and transforming relationship with the gift of Creation and Incarnation.

The Catholic mystic Meister Eckhart said that “If the only prayer you ever say is ‘Thank You’ that would be enough.” [1] Yet I still need to say or sing that prayer. It’s not enough just to feel gratefulness.

So much of our liturgy is about gratefulness because through the process of uncovering that quality, I gain access to the energy that I need for my spiritual practice. On the Pathway of Gratefulness, I let the words of prayer send me, and then I let all those words go. (Imagine a multi-stage rocket launching into outer space, leaving behind its launch-pad, dropping each of its now empty burned out boosters, continuing on to meet the unknown with a lighter payload.)

The flow of Gratefulness begins with a sense of surprise. You might be stopped in your tracks by a rainbow or a sunrise or the most ordinary sight of a child playing or your partner deep in thought. Unexpectedly, the beauty, poignancy, sweetness and depth of a moment touches you and you are suddenly ALIVE; the world around you takes on a shimmer and a mystery.

Beginning in surprise, gratitude gradually expands into a sense of wonder. When you are in a state of wonder, you remember what a miracle this life is. You are able to actually enjoy the absurdities; you let yourself be astounded by the enormity of Creation; your mind is blown by synchronicities, coincidences, and a glimpse of the infinite. Then your heart opens. From a state of wonder it’s impossible to judge another or commit a crime against this amazing Creation.

Gratefulness— beginning in surprise, expanding into wonder— blossoms into generosity as we look for ways to respond to this gift of life that we are given. Our eyes are opened to the suffering around us, and we realize that “we” are not separate from “them;” we are all a part of this gorgeous tapestry… and as even one thread unravels, the whole pattern is diminished. We stop judging one another and start serving each other. We look for ways to give, in response to how much we have received. The Pathway of Gratefulness sends us to discover our innate generosity. This is how the world is healed.

The Pathway of Praise

Stepping on to the Pathway of Praise, I hear the song that all of Creation is singing to its Creator, just through its very BEING. When I hear that song, I am invited to join in. The final line of the final psalm, Psalm 150, sums up all the Psalms and says, “Let all souls, all who have breath praise God, Hallelu-Yah!” Our very breath, the life force that is moving in us, is a praise to its source. And the challenge is to make that praise/breath deliberate, intentional— yet without content or reason.

I praise in order to lose myself in the Mystery, to open to the unnamable. With each Hallelu-Yah, I am lifted up out of my small separate self into the larger Self that is united with the One. This experience is mirrored by Reb Pinchas of Koretz, who taught that “in prayer all is united – the one who prays, the Oneness to whom one prays, and the prayer itself, are all God.” [2] I sing to open the eyes of my heart that I might see the miracle that was, is and will be, always before me. I sing to give myself away. 

To walk the Path of Praise means to magnify and glorify that glimpse of miracle that is given to me each morning in the dawning light of day, in the steady beat of my heart. I sing Hallelu-Yah to exalt and bless and celebrate the simple fact of existence.

Praise whittles me down to my essence, purifies me of trivialities, washes away my worries. Through praise, I remember who I am and what my life is for. In walking this Pathway of Praise I am transformed. I am led from small-self-egoic tangles into Big-Self-spacious expanse. 

The Pathway of Praise opens when I close the door to blame and complaint. In walking this path, I surrender my stories, my too-small identity, my grievances, and my certainties. I get out of the way and let God sing through me. 

The Pathway of Supplication

I don’t relate to God as some guy up there who will grant my wishes if I ask nicely or with enough fervor. I don’t believe that I must prove that I am worthy or make some kind of deal with the Holy One of Blessing in order to get what I want or need. I don’t believe in a God that withholds goodness from me, rewards my righteousness, or punishes me for my transgressions. So, in the past, I’ve mostly tried to avoid liturgy that seemed to be based on that old and worn paradigm of Big Daddy granting me favors. 

And then I challenged myself to dive a bit deeper.

I remembered that we can’t really understand a sacred text or receive its medicine until we have chanted it for a long-enough time, embodying that text through practice. 

Through my practice, I learned that when I call out to God, the Great Mystery, from the place of vulnerability, with my whole heart, soul, and might… I am changed. God appears in the midst of my longing for Her. 

In my reaching out, I am humbled and then connected to a place beyond the possible. My supplication does not have to be whiny; it is rooted in longing rather than lack; it can express profound dignity, subtlety, and depth. It is such a surprise that when I call out to God, the Great Mystery, I am answered in the very moment of calling. My question seems to hold the answer in it. In calling, I remember what I am really yearning for, and the layers of form drop away, revealing the core and deepest longing for God- my longing is to be connected to that Mystery, to know myself as a spark of the Divine. 

And in truth I am longing for that which I already have. It is only the quality of my call that reveals this truth to me.

The Pathway of Lament

I have always tried to be upbeat in my practice. I often frame my prayer as a form of affirmation to reprogram habitual negative thought patterns and build confidence. So, I am naturally drawn to Prayers of positivity that point my attention towards love, prayers that lift me up and help me step into a sense of possibility. 

But as I dove into our sacred texts, I found that so many of them are prayers of lament, expressing deep anguish and desolation. I wondered, “How can I possibly pray these words? Won’t they just sink me deeper into my own negativity?”

Then, I remembered that I was raised on the Blues. My older brother fell hard for black Memphis Blues, and that soulful music became the soundtrack of my childhood. When I listen to and experience the Blues, I know that it is the groove, the rhythm, and the tone that move me. In that groove I hear the echoes of sorrow, yet what emerges from the music is resilience, vitality, persistence, tenacity, and strength in the face of oppression and persecution.

Our ancestors who composed the liturgy also experienced devastating persecution and loss; their response was expressed in song, poetry, dance, and story. After all, the Psalms were originally composed to be sung, not read. And these songs and psalms of Lament help us to identify with those who are suffering, awaken our compassion, and motivate us to respond to the needs of the oppressed.

The Path of Lament can guide me through the depth of my own suffering and send me to catharsis. In fact the Talmud uplifts the centrality of lament in our relationship to God by teaching that “all the gates [in heaven] are locked except for the gate of tears.” [3] To which Reb Menahum Nachum of Chernobyl comments that after you have had that catharsis, you can “emerge joyfully, as you have merited a full return to the Divine." [4] Singing through the sadness will allow me to release the pain that I carry and find meaning in the struggle. The song will transform my wrestling into a dance.

The Pathway of Exultation

As we step onto the Pathway of Exultation, we are lifted up into a wide perspective; we are shown possibilities that surpass our imaginations; we are given glimpses of a larger Reality. On this path we are connected to an inner joy that is not dependent on outer circumstance. It is an inner joy that wants and needs to be expressed.

As we step beyond reason, this joy shatters cynicism and sends us to ecstasy, an ecstasy that is the experience of full surrender to the Life Force. In stepping onto this path, we also become profoundly vulnerable, and we risk being ridiculed by cynics everywhere— including the ones that reside within our own heads. Skeptics, doubters, and scoffers might attempt to keep us from walking this path. Yet we dare to shake off self-consciousness and venture forth into greater aliveness.

On the Pathway of Exultation our walk becomes a dance. Our exuberance becomes a healing force for a world that has numbed itself into complacency. On the Pathway of Exultation, we can delight in something as simple as the breath, the harmony of voices, the color of the sky, the solidity of the earth beneath this step. We can rejoice in a sense of connection with the cosmos, knowing that our small piece of the puzzle is welcomed and cherished by the whole.

The Pathway of Revelation

Our liturgy is filled with insight and understanding, yet we cannot receive the revelation that is hidden in these ancient words until we become receptive, open to their flow of wisdom and then be willing to apply that wisdom to our lives.

To walk the Pathway of Revelation, we must be willing to put aside what we think we know, and enter into the unknown. We must find our stillness in order to be sensitized to what is stirring within us. We must get quiet in order to hear the still small voice, the voice of the Shechinah (“Divine Presence”) who is always whispering to us.

And then the pathway of Revelation guides us into prophesy. We not only receive; we become channels for the Divine Flow. We offer ourselves up to that flow, with a commitment to be continually clearing out the obstacles and obstructions that might distort the Divine message. 

God speaks to us through the holy words of our inheritance; She speaks to us through our bodies and through the stirrings of our hearts. As Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira of Piasezcner taught, “every awakening—even a purely physical one— is a key to the soul.” [5] 

On the Pathway of Revelation, we open our eyes to these signs and wonders. The way to stay open is to listen for the “New Song” that is referenced in many psalms. [6] The practice of listening for and singing the “New Song” requires us to let go of what we know, to let go of habit and nostalgia … and then to trust what is coming through us in this very moment. It means I must open my mouth and sing, without knowing what will emerge, and then follow that new melody with steadfast faith, going wherever the song wants to take me. Every melody tells a story; every story reveals a hidden treasure. 

The Pathway of Comfort

To walk the Pathway of Comfort is to know that we are held in the Divine embrace. God’s promise to us is so simple.

I hear The Great Mystery saying, “I am with you. I do not promise that it will be comfortable or that you will not suffer. I do not promise that you’ll never be hungry or feel despair. I do not promise that your heart will never be broken. My promise is simply that I am with you – in your suffering, your hunger, your despair, through your wandering, your stumbling, your confusion — (I am with you), ‘Anokhi Imach’ (Genesis 28:15) — even when you feel abandoned.”

On the Pathway of Comfort, our challenge is to receive that Presence; to stop thrashing and then let it hold us. To be comforted, we must lean into the Divine embrace, with trust that when our wounds are bound up, they will heal. When we know we are held, we let go of the illusions of control; we relax and open to beauty and blessing; and we expand into our true breadth. On this journey towards wholeness, we are accompanied by God as the Loyal Friend, who says, “I am with you every step of the way.”

The difficulty of walking this path is that we will be lured by false comforts that either numb or distract us. True comfort allows us to move through the painful passage, breathing through the contractions, as we birth a new life. True comfort allows us to know our grief as love. 

And then, as we are comforted, we also become channels for the flow of that Divine comfort, pouring through us into this world.

The Pathway of Encouragement

The sufi poet Hafiz once wrote: “How did the rose ever open its heart and give this world all its beauty? It felt the encouragement of light against its being, otherwise we all remain too frightened.” [7]

As we step onto the Pathway of Encouragement, we too must open to the light that will dissolve our fear and allow us to shine the truth of this moment, giving our unique beauty to the world. Without that encouragement, we might remain closed or too anxious to reveal ourselves fully. Every day presents us with a risk. The world may judge us, misunderstand us, or be too cynical to take us seriously. It takes courage to boldly step forward each day on our path to wholeness. 

Encouragement nurtures our faith, resilience, and confidence. With encouragement we find calm, receive support, and remember our ultimate safety. With encouragement we feel embraced, known in our true vastness, and sent to fulfill our soul’s purpose.

And then, on the Path of Encouragement, we can turn towards others as we lift up, support, and inspire them on their own unique journeys. We all need encouragement. 

Our sacred texts deliver treasure after treasure of encouraging words that have inspired and sustained our ancestors through dreadful and harrowing times of trauma, oppression, and degradation. We can turn to those same treasures and plant those encouraging words within us to light the way and open our hearts that we might give the world our beauty.

Endnotes:

[1] This quote is popularly attributed to Meister Eckhart (14th c) but we did not locate a specific source.

[2] Pinchas of Koretz, Imrei Pinchas (Tel Aviv, 1974), §123, P. 40. Translation by R Zvika Krieger.

[3] Brachot 32b.

[4] Menahum Nahum of Chernobyl, Hanhagot Yesharot 5. Translation by Jonah Gelfand.

[5] Kalonymus Kalman Shapira, Bnei Machshava Tovah, #8.

[6] For examples, see Psalms 96, 98, and 149, which all begin with reference to a Shir Hadash (“new song”).

[7] Hafiz, “The Rose.” An English translation/adaptation of this 14th century poem is found in The Gift: Poems by Hafiz, the Great Sufi Master, trans. by Daniel Ladinsky (London: Compass, Penguin Books, 1999).