Kislev - Delving Into the Critique

When speaking about our work at Shefa, I am often asked “What pushback or criticism are you experiencing in the Jewish world?” With a bit of self-satisfied contentment and a smile, I usually answer “Not much.” It’s true—Judaism’s first psychedelic renaissance already occurred in the 60’s and 70’s, and we in North America continue to benefit from the inspiration of those early psychedelic Jewish pioneers; Reb Zalman Schachter Shalomi and the waves of influence of Jewish Renewal. Rabbi Art Green, the Havurah Movement he helped establish, and his Neo-Hasidic revolution which is beginning to hit its stride. Rabbi Shefa Gold’s focus on ecstatic Hebrew chant, probably the progenitor of the current rise of niggunim as a meaningful way in for a new generation of seekers. There is also the strong possibility that the ba’al teshuva movement, a countercultural move toward Orthodox religious observance, guided by figures like Rabbis Shlomo Carlebach and Aryeh Kaplan, was the equal and opposite reaction to psychedelic Jews who left Judaism to sit in Zen centers and ashrams. Throw in a population that pursues therapeutic modalities at higher rates and is more socially progressive than their non-Jewish neighbors and you have a community that is uniquely poised to help lead and carry this moment of psychedelic curiosity through the Overton window.

For all our enthusiasm, however, there are two voices of critique with which I contend and endeavor to honor every day. The first is what I might call traditionalist sufficiency. This voice sees Jewish religious and spiritual traditions as having more than enough in terms of wisdom and practice to help a sincere and committed practitioner achieve the varieties of expanded consciousness they are searching for. Moreover, our greatest sages and holy teachers did not require anything more than the paths of Torah and tefillah to ascend to the greatest of spiritual heights—why should we?

Yet, for all the truth of these concerns, it elides a historical one, expressed by Gershon Scholem in On Kabbalah and Its Symbolism: “For in the late eighteenth century, when the Jews of Western Europe turned so resolutely to European culture, one of the first and most important elements of their old heritage to be sacrificed was the Kabbalah. Jewish mysticism with its intricate, introverted symbolism was felt to be alien and disturbing, and soon forgotten.” While Sephardic and North African communities have fared better at maintaining their connection to mystical access points, European Jewry has largely lost its comfortability and familiarity with their esoteric traditions for over two hundred years. It is difficult to imagine overcoming this cultural gap of space and time in any significant way. If psychedelics do become more available to more people, either in regulated, therapeutic environments or through loosening prohibition through legislative efforts, the inverse of this criticism will need urgent action—how do we help Jews anchor major transpersonal experiences with psychedelics in the sacred maps of reality and consciousness of their tradition from which they are alienated and unaware of?

The other concern, usually voiced by those who mainly view Judaism as a force for social equity and political progress, object to something else entirely, that of an aesthetic-experiential narcissism. A certain slice of psychedelic destigmatization centers on creating an alternative narrative to the one fomented by the War on Drugs, namely that drugs are irretrievably dangerous, and using them can ruin one’s professional and personal station in life. These efforts to counter this decades-long misinformation campaign are found in popular cultural displays--documentaries and series which show normal, well-adjusted people doing psychedelics having silly, questionably safe, yet overall positive experiences. Every few weeks, it seems there is another article about how microdosing can help tech bros be more effective at work. Celebrities go on talk shows and share stories of how their latest excursion to a South American ayahuasca retreat really gave them a better perspective on what it all means. Taken alone, it would seem to the causal observer that psychedelics seem to be yet another way to avoid the major social, political, and environmental crises that are endangering our communities and imperiling our plant. If they aren’t helping us see how we are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers, what good are they?

While we are only at the beginning of the wave of new research, there are a number of studies which indicate that under the right conditions, research subjects have reported greater feelings of obligation for environmental stewardship or caring for other people, but they are not yet part of the larger effort of psychedelic storytelling that needs to happen. Viewers may want to watch others talk about their altered states, but perhaps it is time for the psychedelically active to start speaking more often about how it helped achieve altered traits.

Jewish religious leaders will have to confidently justify the decisions to include psychoactive sacraments into their rituals, both as a spiritual imperative of restoring the primacy of its mystical teachings as well as a reliable means of healing the inner world of the individual in order to repair the wider world at large. That task is great, but must begin at once.

Hodesh Tov,

Zac

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Tevet - The ‘Truth’ of the Psychedelic Experience?

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Cheshvan - Plants as Teachers