Rabbi Arthur Waskow

AT EVERY BOUNDARY, THE WORLD IS ONE

Is there a way to reawaken a deep and intense understanding of the three paragraphs that follow the Sh'ma, to get beyond the habituated chant-'em-through (or drop-'em-out) that afflicts many of our services?

I have been experimenting (and finding some powerful results) with the practice shown below.

Shalom, Rabbi Arthur Waskow

On finishing the chant of the Sh'ma itself, the shaliach tzibbor ("messenger" of the congregation) says the following:

1. And when we come to a doorway between the risky world and our safe homes, when we might believe these are two separate worlds -- then we pause at the doorway to remember to remind ourselves: [Everyone chants: "Sh'ma Yisrael YAH eloheynu YAH echad. . ."]

2. And when we come to the doorway in time between our active rising up and our dreamy, sleepy lying down, when we might believe these are two separate worlds -- then we pause at that moment to remember to remind ourselves: [Everyone chants: "Sh'ma Yisrael YAH eloheynu YAH echad. . ."]

3. And when we look at our hands and experience our eyes, when we might believe these are two separate worlds, the world of observing, watching, and the world of doing, making -- -- then we pause to bind our eyes and hands together and we remember to remind ourselves: [Everyone chants: "Sh'ma Yisrael YAH eloheynu YAH echad. . ."]

4. And when we come to the gateway of our cities, the boundary of our own cultures and communities, when we might believe these are two separate worlds -- the world where everybody speaks my language and the world of those bar-bar-barbarians out there -- then we pause at that gateway to remember to remind ourselves: [Everyone chants: "Sh'ma Yisrael YAH eloheynu YAH echad. . ."]

5. And when we look beyond all human life at those beings that do not speak at all -- mountains and rivers, ozone and oak trees, beetles and krill -- when we might say they live in an utterly separate world beyond us, on which we have no effect at all -- -- then we pause to remember that the poison we feed to earth and air and water feeds us poison, and we remember to remind ourselves: [Everyone chants: "Sh'ma Yisrael YAH eloheynu YAH echad. . ."]

6. And when we might assert one thing is certain, inside my skin I know what's what but everything outside me is mysterious and alien -- these are two separate worlds -- then we look at the tzitzit on the edges of our selves, we look at these fuzzy fringes made always of my own cloth and the Universe's air, we look to see that not good fences but good fringes make good neighbors, we look at these threads of connection that bind us to each other and we pause at that moment to remember to remind ourselves: [Everyone chants: "Sh'ma Yisrael YAH eloheynu YAH echad. . ."]

7. And when we come to that final doorway whose other side no one has ever seen, and we might think that the world of life and the world of death are two utterly separate worlds -- then we pause at that doorway to remember to remind ourselves: [Everyone chants, in a whisper: "Sh'ma Yisrael YAH eloheynu YAH echad. . ."]