Into the mystic: My alterego John Lennon

We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic

Van Morrsion

Living in Brighton, I encounter many hippie lefties. Whilst of course they irritate me as a concept, as individuals I love being surrounded by them.

The other week I spoke to a group of people at the Sussex Jewish society on the topic of demystifying mysticism: Prague in the seventeenth century. 

Afterwards, people began to relate to me as something of a mystic. When the rabbi referred to the kabbalah in a sermon, a few of the shul members turned around pointing at me excitedly. 

Financially, this could lead somewhere.

If John Lennon and George Harrison were alive today they would visit my flat in Hove for the inspiration that I clearly provide.
And the guy a few floors above me for the herbal enhancements. 

Of course, if you have read a few of these blog posts, you would say that a cardboard box has more of a mystical disposition than I do.  

My thesis, however, is on the subject of one of the great works of Jewish mysticism, the Shelah ha kadosh, (holy Shelah, an acronym for the two tablets of the covenant). 
Like most mystical works, in the Orthodox world it is mentioned with great reverence, a work which most individuals would never themselves approach, but are aware contains very 'deep' things. 

When I mention to those who have been yeshivah for half a dozen years that I am doing a phd on the topic, they look at me like I'm a scrambled egg. My apparent irreverence towards most aspects of life doesn't easily correlate with a work of such holiness.

Outside that circle, my study of this text appears even more abstract than most academic phds which concentrate on such fascinating topics such as the sociology of gardening or the intersectionality of teddy bears. 

I have never shown any particular interest in anything that is normally considered 'mystical' and my Phd topic came about somewhat by accident. In fact, when I am reading the text I feel more detached than I usually do from Jewish texts. Many of the ideas which were late to form the basis of much of Ashkenazic philosophy are at complete odds with anything I have found engaging in any other walk of life.

Yet something about it engages me. I think one of the most important functions of being religious in a broad sense is the way it demands the process of becoming: there is more to know and more to learn and this never ends because God is infinite and you as an individual are important.

 As an axiom, this is wonderful: Aspiration is something crucial in leading a worthwhile and successful life - you must want to become better at things. Better at yourself, better to those around you, better at refining and developing skills, talents etc. Once that stops, well, life sucks.

This is not some utopian ideal, either. Broad societal transformations are irrelevant if it isn't internalised or appreciated by the individual - as my new hero Jordan Peterson likes to say 'Sort yourself out'. 

So put away your stupid Marxist signs - 'students of the world, disband'.  

The discovery of more knowledge was such a wonderfully giddy sensation of childhood. And as an adult, where the intellect has become more critical and appreciates that there are many different ways to approach new ideas, the world presents many opportunities.

But when you can see a ceiling things become frustrating. It is this point that I have suggested is the reason for so much religious indifference for people my age and older - it feels like there is so little left to explore, nothing left to conquer or pursue. 

Not in terms of quantity, certainly; but if you feel that the aspiration of gaining a greater quantity in a particular area knowledge which doesn't actually do anything for you what is the point? It's like being set more maths homework.

If the people who run the show and embody Judaism seem a little shallow and not particularly interesting then where is the aspiration? It is as if, before us, there is a choice: Do x and  you will be fulfilled, if you join community y you will be doing the right thing, study z and you are doing good by God. But then it stops when you cross the boundary rope. 
The drive to explore finishes.

Wanting what's best for your family or career is self justifying to a large extent, but the pursuit of personal excellence through the prism of the religious life is not.

So, mystical escapism? Not at all. What is quite fun about Judaism is that we don't really do too many abstractions outside of 'real life'. There is not really such thing as mysticism as an abstract expression of trying to feel close to God in most streams of Judaism, which is partly why I become irritated by the academics who love going off on one about the eroticism within kabbalah like a child who has raided the sweetie jar and skipped the meal.

It is interwoven into law and the broader concept of self improvement in pursuit of God through introspection and pursuit of appropriate steps.

Half of me despises the narrow prescriptive nature of the self-improvement Jewish literature, as if this somehow answers issues that can't be answered. 

But if there is a broad theme that exists within mystical literature (that admittedly ignores its specificity and context) it is that you must improve yourself before you improve society, and that you can overcome adversity by accepting the reality of life's evil and trying to transform them. 

And it is this that shines through the great religious literature - an endless quest to understand things more deeply, to incorporate different streams of thought into that timeless question what the hell should we do with our lives and do something about it. Then you will have lived well. 

Whilst many Orthodox groups have taken mystical ideas as literal truths, the profundity of the mystic lies in his refusal to accept things as being merely of surface value, which resonates when it comes to trying to understand society and its strange ways, and the individual's bewildering complexity which, for all intents and purposes, is irreducible to one or two factors.

 And if I was speaking to John Lennon at Woodstock in the summer of '69 I would probably tell him: Hey John, good music but those dumb one liners about saving the world? Yep, in fifty years time people will take them seriously and post them on facebook. Bet you never expected that.