
Melinda Ribner
By Melinda Ribner
At the suggestion of a friend, I journeyed to Jerusalem for Shabbat last year to meet this man who once was a guru to hundreds of people, who now resides in Jerusalem as an Orthodox Jew. Like me, he had mystical experiences outside of Judaism, returned to Judaism, became a Jewish spiritual teacher and authored several books on Jewish meditation. As we seem to have so much in common, I wondered whether this man might be a potential soul mate. He arranged for me to stay with a woman who also resides in the Old City of Jerusalem and invited me and a girlfriend to participate in a Friday night Shabbat meal at his home. Every week he himself generously prepares lovely meals for strangers and uses this meal as a platform to teach them about Judaism.
This woman whose home I stayed in became a friend and introduced me to the Shabbat morning service in a women’s synagogue buried in the caverns adjacent to the Kotel. I would not have known of its existence if I were not escorted to it. Unlike the kotel that publicly welcomes all spiritual pilgrims of all faiths, this women’s synagogue is hidden, away from the view of spectators.
After spending some time there, my friend suggested that I journey alone further into the tunnels by going to the left, down a flight of stairs, and through additional tunnels to pray by the “Holy of Holies.”
“It is never open to women on Shabbat, but perhaps it will open for you.” Her eyes twinkled as she said these words to me.
I could hardly believe that I could soon actually find myself in the most holy place on earth, one that I had imagined in my meditations and had heard stories about for years. In a state of awe and amazement, I trembled and cried as I walked through the dimly lit winding paths and down the stairs to this sacred site.
Soon I found myself approaching a very simple place, resembling a cave. There were no special or elaborate ornaments marking the place, only three plastic chairs and two women dressed totally in white, sitting enraptured in prayer and meditation, facing a blank wall. Energetically, I knew that I was indeed in the right place. Intuitively, I felt invited to come forth and stand in front of the Holy of Holies and claim the remaining chair as mine. Instantly, I felt transported to the realm of the holy, where I felt totally loved and accepted as I was.
I can’t recall all that transpired within me during the hours I stood and sat there. It felt like wisdom and deep spiritual insight on many subjects from marriage, to re-incarnation, to Jewish history, to what will be in the future was being downloaded into my soul directly. And mostly I felt the Presence of God known in Judaism as the Shechinah, the Divine Feminine. The Shechinah is the name referring to the revelation of the immanence of God.
The foundational tenet of Judaism is that there is one God and that God is one, neither masculine nor feminine, but with attributes of both. Jewish prayer, however, generally refers to God in the masculine, as the Father, the King, the Holy One, Blessed be He. Yet in the cave, I felt myself to be in the presence of the most loving beautiful exquisite royal feminine energy.
Though having had occasional glimpses of the Shechinah through my years of prayer and meditation, the Shechinah now seemed virtually clear and present to me in a way that I had never experienced before. She demanded that I be present, that I be real and true and that I not give my spiritual power away to others. She was and is the only one, the only true reality. All that I had previously learned and even at times questioned about the Jewish people, the rebuilding of the Holy Temple, and the unity of God now seemed to be totally true by the transmission that I was blessed to receive that morning.
While I was living in Tzfat last year, I returned to Jerusalem several times and always went, whenever possible, to pray at the cave of the Holy of Holies. Whenever I arrived, there was always a group of women huddled there, reading psalms, meditating, weeping gently. One time when I was standing there in the third row or so from the wall of the cave close to the holy of holies, I was reflecting on the lack of a loving man in my life and began to cry. Soon I found myself lovingly and gently moved to stand closer to the actual wall of the cave so I could rest myself upon the wall. I cried and cried once again, deeply from the core of my being, weeping alongside the other women.
Every time I go to the cave, I always see women crying. I can’t imagine another place in the world where women of all ages and backgrounds are not ashamed or embarrassed to cry in front of strangers. There is such a feeling of love and intimacy with the women there.
During one of my visits to the holy cave, I became aware of the sound of horns and trumpets blasting. I listened closely and was guided to a stairwell, very close to the Holy of Holies cave. There were a few women standing there completing the end of morning prayer services. I learned that there was a morning minyan that begins at sunrise each day that has been going on for many years.
In talking to a few of the participants, I learned of the history of this minyan. The late Rabbi Meir Yehuda Guetz, the rabbi of the kotel, would go to this site at midnight alone and on Shabbat mornings with a minyan. When he died, Rav Shmuel Darzi, a prominent kabbalist in Jerusalem continued to pray there on Shabbat. One Hanukkah, Rav Darzi asked to pray close to the Kodesh kodeshim so as to be as close as possible to the site of the menorah of the Holy Temple where the miracle took place. It was such an amazing experience for the people who participated with him that they then petitioned for the right to pray there on other days of the year. Those students and those close to Rav Darcy continued this minyan for many years. When Rav Darzi knew that he was going to die, he approached the head of Yeshivat Beit El to take over the minyan at the Kodesh Kodeshim. The Rosh Yeshivah, the head of the yeshivah, began to attend, and then slowly some of the yeshivah students joined with many of the original men from Reb Darcy’s minyan so the minyan has continued.
For several mornings while I am visiting Jerusalem I make myself rise by 4:30 a.m. in order to be able to attend morning services with this minyan. For some unknown reason, I feel very much at home here. I feel that I belong. I have found my place. It defies understanding. There are so many reasons why I would not be comfortable attending this minyan. This place is moldy, it is musty, it is simply a stairwell. I cannot even see the men, for they are upstairs. I can’t even see the Torah. I am a bit of a feminist, and I enjoy singing in prayer services, yet there is little or no singing here. I am not as observant as the women who frequent this minyan, yet none of this bothers me. Rather than feeling offended at being obliged to stand in the stairwell, separate from the men unable to see anything, I am actually grateful to the men for allowing me to be present in the stairwell. I even appreciate the total separation as it allows me and the women to go deeply into the prayer without the concern of being observed.
This minyan is to me like a rocket ship of prayer that is traveling through the dimensions of time and space to the infinite holiness of the Shechinah. I love the meditative quality of the service. The leader of the service will pause for a long time with a single word of prayer many times in the course of the service. The congregants may be doing complex meditations (kavanaot) at those times, but I am happy to just be with that word as fully as I can be. Sometimes I feel no need to pray myself. I close my eyes and only have to open my heart to receive the sweet and divine nectar and vibrations produced from the prayers of these men. Here in this moldy and musty stairwell, I feel myself in the center of the universe. I am happy and blessed. I feel loved and fulfilled.
One time, one of the male congregants in the upstairs minyan pointed out the man who had led the davening that morning. I thanked the leader profusely, for I had received so much from his davening. He immediately came over to me and put his hands over my head and blessed me. I was thrilled, for I felt as if I had been blessed by the High Priest. This gesture made me feel welcome and confirmed to me that I was in the right place.
Most of the times when the men exit through the stairs where the women are standing, I avert my eyes because I know that some of them might feel uncomfortable being seen. Other times, they drape themselves with their prayer shawls so as to not look upon the women. Having shared this awesome experience of holiness, it almost feels too intimate to actually make eye contact. In years past I might have been offended by the lack of acknowledgement of my personhood. Now, I am simply grateful to each of them for their prayers, not only for what I have received spiritually for myself but for what these prayers offer to the Jewish people and to the world. I marvel at the dedication of the people who faithfully attend this minyan daily.
Because of my powerful experiences in the cave and with this minyan, after some time in the States, I returned to Jerusalem and found a room to rent in the Old City, from where I can walk easily to attend the stairwell minyan and visit the cave daily. So far, I have been successful and blessed to be able to keep this intention. It is not easy to awaken myself so early each morning. In the beginning, when I was still dealing with jet lag, I would often sleep when I returned in the morning, or I would need to go to bed around 8 p.m. because I am so exhausted by then that the bones in my body hurt. With time, I found that I can stay up even to 10:30 p.m. and function throughout the day. As my experience with the minyan becomes more routine, I may not always have the same ecstatic “infatuation” high that I had during my first few times, but I always feel blessed with moments of connection, insight, and joy each day. So I am grateful.
Each morning I see some of the same women and some new ones at the minyan. There is a lovely elderly Ethiopian woman who is often present, who comes late, but who feels like a holy woman to me. She does not use a prayer book, but she moves her arms around as she bends her body. I feel that I would like to hug her, for she is so loveable. I notice that the other women give up their chair for her, so I do that, too, when possible.
There is another beautiful woman, who is always there early, before I come, so that must mean that she is probably there by 4:30 each morning. She is always looking beautiful, like someone out of a fashion magazine for religious women, sporting a form-fitted skirt with a lovely matching sweater, beautiful jewelry, a colorful head covering, and makeup applied appropriately. I do not recall her wearing the same outfit twice. This woman prays so deeply from her heart that I hear her gently weeping each day. I do not think that these tears are because she is sad or in need in any way; rather, they are tears of love and joy due to the close proximity of the Beloved. After the morning service, she, like many other women participating in the minyan, spend additional time around the cave reading psalms with great devotion.
I have so far only exchanged gentle smiles with the women of the minyan. Being in the cave or the stairwell is not a place for conversation. Yet I feel myself acknowledged and cared for by the group of holy women who frequent the minyan and the cave faithfully each day before sunrise. I feel each of them to be such gentle loving souls that I feel close to them even though we have not exchanged a word.
I love the minyan, and I love praying by the cave each day. This experience has been the highlight of this trip to Israel. Everything outside of the cave and the minyan feels a little like the diaspora to me. Being at the cave has given me a little taste of the holiness of the Holy Temple. When the Jewish people had the Holy Temple, the Shechinah was revealed to them. Now we have only a wall of a cave. It is true that Her wall is moldy. She has been hidden for thousands of years, yet She is still so beautiful and loving. Everyday, I stand enveloped in Her presence, I feel Her and receive Her blessing and am filled with visions of when the Holy Temple will be restored, She will be revealed and there will be true peace.