By NOMI MORRIS

Christian pop music played quietly in the background as instructor Bryan Brock led a recent yoga class at the nondenominational Church at Rocky Peak in Chatsworth.

Incorporating prayer and readings from the Bible, Brock urged his class of about 20 students to find strength in their connection to their creator through yoga’s deep, controlled breathing. “The goal of Christian yoga is to open ourselves up to God,” he said. “It allows us to blur the line between the physical and the spiritual.”

The instructor then recited the Lord’s Prayer while his students moved slowly through a series of postures known as the sun salutation.

Such hybrid classes, which combine yoga practice with elements of Christianity or Judaism, appear to be growing in popularity across Southern California and elsewhere.

Some Christians call their versions of the discipline holy yoga or Yahweh yoga and some teachers urge participants to “breathe down Jesus.” Jewish yogis, in turn, have developed -- and in some cases, even trademarked -- Torah yoga, Kabbalah yoga and aleph bet yoga, applying Eastern meditative movements to Jewish prayer and study.

Meanwhile, Californian Muslims who practice yoga have yet to merge it with the teachings of the Koran or worship of Allah, a local leader says. And there are skeptics within all three Abrahamic religions who question whether it is proper to integrate the Hindu-based spiritual practice into Western monotheistic traditions.

Rayna Mike said she was skeptical of yoga before she started going to Brock’s class at the Church at Rocky Peak, an evangelical congregation. “I never did it before because I considered it Eastern philosophy and I didn’t want any part of it,” said Mike, a Bel-Air businesswoman.

Mike changed her mind when her trainer at the Church on the Way in Van Nuys recommended the yoga class, and she said the practice has improved her health while feeding her soul.

“You can go and sweat anywhere, but that’s not the point,” she said. “This is a beautiful thing. It’s an answer to my prayers.”
Brock completed a 200-hour accredited course in Phoenix designed by Brooke Boon, author of the book “Holy Yoga.” Boon has trained nearly 200 Christian yogis, about a dozen of whom are teaching in Southern California.

“Christ is my guru. Yoga is a spiritual discipline much like prayer, meditation and fasting,” Boon said in a telephone interview. “No one religion can claim ownership.”

Some fundamentalist Christians distance themselves from yoga, saying it is inseparable from Hinduism or Buddhism and therefore dangerous, even blasphemous. Some Orthodox Jewish authorities warn that if practiced with all its Eastern components, including Sanskrit chanting and small statues of deities, it amounts to avodah zarah, or the worship of false gods.

For many religious Jews, Christians and Muslims, viewing yoga as a physical rather than spiritual practice solves the dilemma.

But Rabbi Avivah Winocur Erlick, a chaplain at Providence Tarzana Medical Center, says it is impossible to separate yoga from her Jewish spiritualism. About six years ago, Erlick began having intense spiritual experiences while doing yoga. She sought advice from a rabbi.

“He said, ‘God has been trying to reach you all these years and he is reaching you through yoga,” Erlick recalled. The rabbi challenged her to reconcile yoga with Judaism, which led to five years of study to become a rabbi. “For me, yoga is prayer,” Erlick said.

Erlick, who is writing a book on the subject, says Jews have vigorously debated the issue for two decades. She counts 83 active teachers, mainly in the U.S. and Israel, who combine yoga and Judaism.

One is Californian Ida Unger, who draws on Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism, to interpret yoga postures as Hebrew letters. Unger recently demonstrated her aleph bet yoga to seniors at Los Angeles’ Milken Community High School.

“I was in a triangle pose and I had an epiphany. I was an aleph,” Unger told the class, posing in the shape of the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet.

“In Kabbalah, letters are the building blocks with which the holy creator is channeled to Earth.”

Unger chants shalom (peace) instead of om, and recites the daily Jewish prayer for awakening when she does the sun salutation.

Milken students Jamie Mayer and Sharon Winter, both 17, said they found the hybrid yoga class more spiritually fulfilling than conventional synagogue services.

“I want my yoga practice to be my daily prayer. It’s not instead of, but in addition to, my other Jewish practices,” Jamie said.

Rabbi Yechiel Hoffman, who teaches the teens’ Jewish Thought class at Milken, said there are “places of alignment and integration” between yoga and Judaism -- particularly in Kabbalah -- but he cautioned that important elements may be watered down or lost when religions borrow from one another.

Still, Hoffman has no problem with Judaism embracing yoga as it has embraced aspects of other cultures throughout history. “Judaism has always borrowed from other religions to re-energize itself,” he said.

For local Muslims, the debate is just beginning.

Although Islam’s mystical strain of Sufism was influenced by Indian yogic practices, some strict Muslims view it as out of bounds. In 2008, Malaysia’s top Islamic authority issued a fatwa, a nonbinding prohibition, against yoga. That angered Muslim yoga teachers across Asia, and many continue their yoga practice.

Muslim daily prayers already offer a “personal and direct connection with the creator,” says Shakeel Syed, executive director of the Islamic Shura Council of Southern California. He also believes that as long as there is no Hindu or Buddhist religious content, yoga is “no different than jogging around the track.”

Syed fully expects that some Muslims in California will eventually develop a hybrid spiritual practice.

“I’m sure one day somebody will try to combine yoga with Islam and they will get a following,” Sayed said.
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by Derek Jamensky
published in The Western Jewish Bulletin (British Columbia)

“We’ve gone about as far as we can go as separate and isolated faiths – God has given each faith some vitamins that the others need, and we won’t be able to survive in health unless we exchange those vitamins.”
– Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, founder of the Jewish Renewal movement

As much as these words present a challenge to Jewish orthodoxy, they also challenge members of the Renewal movement itself. How to remain true to Jewish tradition, while opening up to the wisdom of other faiths?

Meeting this challenge in her own way is Evelyn Neaman, a yoga teacher who threads themes of Jewish tradition in her classes. Neaman conducts regular yoga sessions for Jews and non-Jews alike and she adheres to one of the central tenets of the Renewal movement: that there is harmony between faiths, even in their diversity of expression.

Far from diluting one tradition with the other, Neaman sees their truths as universal and their methods as complementary.

“I pick and choose the things that are meaningful – not just in Judaism, but in other religions where I think it’s going to be helpful,” she said.

She points out that recognizing the wisdom of other faiths is not a new development in Judaism. There is even a traditional blessing that is said upon meeting a holy person from another faith.

“This is an acknowledgement that there are holy people in all traditions, so to be accepting of teaching from other traditions feels very kosher to me,” said Neaman.

Her classes are called Tikkun Yoga – tikkun being the Hebrew word meaning to mend, heal or repair.
“The idea is that we are all obligated to do something to make the world a better place,” said Neaman. She sees herself as “giving people the gift to heal themselves, so they can be better out there in the world doing whatever gifts they were given.”

Neaman’s yoga studio is housed beside a little green belt in her yard, complete with a running stream and Buddha. She teaches about 30-40 students per week. She tries to keep her classes small, so they can be tailored to meet each person’s needs. Additionally, she does month-long workshops for teshuvah (return to God) at Or Shalom, and has recently released a DVD on the art of restorative yoga.

The Buddha in her backyard? “It’s a piece of cement,” said Neaman. “I’m not worshipping a statue, I’m paying homage to the meaning behind the statue.”

For Neaman, that meaning transcends Buddhism. “It’s a symbol of mindfulness,” she said simply, pointing to a central theme of both Buddhism and Judaism.

Mindfulness may not be a word you hear that much in synagogue, but the idea is far from new.

“The [Jewish] rituals are set up so that we’re mindful of our physicality,” said Neaman. Every blessing is an exercise in connecting us in the moment, with who we are and where we are. For Neaman, “Judaism is a religion of consciousness,” just as is Buddhism.

In order to explore these very points of connection between Jewish and Buddhist meditation, Neaman recently organized a workshop with Rabbi DovBer Pinson, a well-known kabbalist from New York.

Like popular forms of yoga, the kabbalistic tradition is often misunderstood – and just as often diluted, according to Pinson. And like yoga, kabbalah manages to survive from generation to generation, because the central truths transcend the generations and answer a fundamental need.

Pinson isn’t at all concerned with where the roots of the tradition ultimately lie.

“A lot of the spiritual teachings have crossovers because they are universal truths that are found in all traditions,” he said.

Popular culture also has a role to play. Although Pinson has his doubts about what Madonna may be learning in her well-publicized kabbalistic studies, he avoids criticizing popularizations of kabbalah. More important to him is for individuals to connect the teachings to their daily lives. Mindfulness, meditation and prayer are always important, with or without celebrity status. Such truths transcend culture and personal circumstance.

For Pinson, kabbalah and meditation are “never about a past, or a future. It’s always about the present. And it’s never about anybody else. It’s always about you.”

Aug. 26, 2005
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Derek Jamensky is a Vancouver freelance writer.

by Zack Lodmer

Zack teaches OmShalom Yoga in Los Angeles

Yoga and Judaism

“Yoga” means “union,” or “union with the divine.” It doesn’t mean “contortionism,” or “hippie commune” or “Lululemon.”

“Judaism” means “monotheistic religion [of the Jews],” or “belief characterized by one transcendent G-d.” It doesn’t mean “bagels and lox,” or “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” or “big beard and black hat.”

And “Jewish yoga” certainly doesn’t mean “contorting my body to the shrill soundtrack of a Larry David monologue.” Nor does it mean giving up my Judaism.
Not even close.

My practice weaves yogic teachings and philosophies with Jewish teachings and philosophies. And while I don’t think such a practice is all that rare nowadays, it is sometimes dismissed by people on both sides of the coin without much understanding. Disapproving Jews say “Feh! It’s a Hindu practice and it’s avodah zarah (Hebrew for “idolatry”). Disapproving yogis say “…but how can you practice Jewish yoga? Yoga is for everyone!”

Here’s what I can tell anyone who holds either of those disapproving opinions: it works for me. I am part of a growing body of people who recognize deep, logical, and undeniable links between the practice of yoga and the practice of Judaism. My Jewish-infused yoga practice is where I draw inspiration, seek silence, challenge my ego, find understanding, share community, and tap into connection with G-d, Hashem, Adonai….or whatever you want to call the divine source that connects us all. Rabbi Myriam Klotz has said, “Yoga is a means through which I can come to ‘sit in the House of God’ [Psalm 27].” And I couldn’t agree more.

By examining the basic tenets of yoga and Judaism separately, we can better see why so many people are drawn to “yoga with a Jewish twist” …….oh…and puns? Definitely Jewish.
At its core, yoga is a practice that unifies practitioner with source, human with divine. While we are all human, yogis believe and revel in the notion that the common thread among all things—living, nonliving, animate, and inanimate—is the divine. The asanas, or the actual poses, are just a tiny part of the (much) larger picture of the “union” that yoga explores. In his text, “The Yoga Sutras,” (literally “the book” on yoga), Pantanjali (literally the guy who “wrote the book” on yoga) illustrates the eight limbs of yoga; limb by limb, he spells out exactly what it means to practice—and it’s much more than downward dog and plank pose. In fact, the only real guidance on the actual poses that Pantanjali gives is an admonition that they must be “steady, firm and comfortable” (sutra 2.46). Most of the text is devoted to extolling the proper virtues of a yogi (compassion, truthfulness, nonviolence, nonstealing), and outlining specific ways to solidify the union with the divine (breathing, focusing energy on a single point, following rules to live a pure, proper, balanced, non-disturbed life, turning inward), with a huge emphasis on the importance of acknowledging, praising, and ultimately melding with the divine.

At its core, Judaism is a religion based on the belief, eloquently stated by Maimonides, that “all existence depends on G-d and is derived from G-d.” It follows that in Judaism, while inhabiting this temporary body, we are obliged to perform tikkun olam (“repair of the world”) through the fulfillment of 613 mitzvot, or “commandments” (also often loosely translated to mean “good deeds”). The mitzvot spell out exactly what it means to be an upright Jew: recite prayers of thanksgiving for food, do not engage in hurtful speech, give charity, honor your parents, keep your word, don’t covet, and 607 other various and sundry commandments. By following the commandments, performing acts of reparation, and engaging in lovingkindness, we indeed become closer with G-d. And while “poses” are not at the crux of any Jewish practice, there certainly are specific movements that a Jew in prayer performs: bowing, standing, swaying—all in the name of creating oneness with Hashem. In the Talmud (a collection of rabbinic discussion, analyses and musings on Jewish law and ethics), it is written that Rabbi Shimon Ben Gamliel would “bow down and put two thumbs into the earth, suspend his body in the air, kiss the ground, and straighten up” (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Succot, 53a).

Unfortunately, mainstream “Jewish practice” in the modern world is often understood to take place only in cavernous rooms with stained glass windows, filled with people clad in designer suits and dresses, void of any movement or breathing. The swaying, meditation, and exaltation that used to accompany Jewish prayer on a wide scale have all but disappeared outside of Chasidic and Jewish Renewal communities. When was the last time you saw someone bust out a handstand in shul?

Similarly, the phrase “yoga practice” has become largely synonymous in the modern Western world with “asana movement practice.” It evokes images of ripped, toned twenty-somethings sweating it out on rectangular rubber mats laid over pristine hardwood floors. In reality, one can practice yoga anywhere: on the bus, in the home, in the middle of that important meeting, during a conflict with a family member…especially during a conflict with a family member. That’s where kshama (patience), and daya (compassion)—two “non-asana” aspects of yoga—are truly needed.

Yoga and Judaism, two ancient practices that seemingly share so much, have been narrowly interpreted to a fault. We’re simply not seeing the whole picture.
But that doesn’t have to be the case.

I’m not a rabbi, but I know that the trend in modern rabbinic authority makes it abundantly clear that the practice of yoga is not avodah zara. I’m not a guru, but I’ve been to enough yoga classes with themes on Shiva, and chants of “Hari Bol” and “Shri Ram” to know that infusing a religious practice into a yoga classes is totally acceptable and enjoyable for a great many people.
And while I’m not a nutritionist, I do know a thing or two about vitamins.

I know that if I limited my vitamin consumption to fish oil and only fish oil, my body would certainly appreciate the introduction of Omega-3s and all the positive effects that would follow: better heart health, cancer prevention, vibrant skin, etc., etc. But if I limited my vitamin consumption to fish oil and fish oil only, I’d surely miss out on the digestive benefits of my probiotic, the rise in bone density concentration and the mineral infusion from my coral calcium, etc., etc.

Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi has said, “We’ve gone about as far as we can go as separate and isolated faiths. G-d has given each faith some vitamins that the others need, and we won’t be able to survive in health unless we exchange those vitamins.” While I agree with the spirit of Reb Zalman’s sentiment, I don’t fully agree with his word choice. I wish he would’ve said “spiritual practice” instead of faith. To be clear, yoga is not a faith. Yoga is a physical and spiritual practice, and not a religion. Practicing yoga does not mean it must be to the exclusion of practicing Judaism, or vice versa. In fact, yoga works well in concert with any faith; yoga practitioners do not give up their religion and become apostates the minute they get into standing splits.

While classes that talk about Ganesh and chant “Om Nama Shivaya” are nice, as nice as they are, these themes are just not mine. They don’t tap into my deeply-held beliefs as a Jew. What has made my practice more emotionally connecting, meaningful, comforting, and enriching has been the introduction and exploration of text, Torah, and Jewish prayer into my yoga practice. The synergy has made my yoga practice more personal, and my Jewish practice more relevant. It feels authentic and powerful. Spiritually, it feels like a potent mix of diverse but complementary vitamins at work for the betterment of my soul.
Practicing unity with the divine and fulfilling G-d’s commandments can (and should!) be done simultaneously; if you’ve never done it, try it before you knock it. You might find that both experiences become more profound. Perhaps you’ll see that you can repair the world with a stronger intention and effect greater change. And if you’re asking my opinion?…it just plain feels good.

So practice your Vinyasa. Pray. Move. Meditate. Sweat. Study Torah. Keep Shabbat. Live the Yamas. Clear your mind. Read the Yoga Sutras. Take your spiritual vitamins. Be healthy and prosperous, inside and out.
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Namaste and Shalom.

Deborah Wineman has been a yogi for a long time. A certified yoga instructor, she began practicing the discipline in her 20s. But it wasn't until two decades later that Wineman, who was raised in a less observant Jewish background, discovered how she could infuse Judaism into her yoga practice. It was then that a mutual friend introduced her to fellow yoga lovers Rebecca Minkus-Lieberman and Jane Shapiro.

Minkus-Lieberman and Shapiro are two of the co-founders of Orot: Center for New Jewish Learning, founded in 2014, offering a variety of Jewish experiences integrating study and wisdom. The programs, yoga and meditation among them, offered through Orot -- a past JUF Breakthrough Fund grant recipient -- are designed to engage heads, hearts, bodies, and spirits in immersive ways that make Jewish wisdom accessible to all.

"We use different modalities for people to find their way in -- through music, art, reflective creative writing, and embodied practice. Yoga is just another natural avenue in for people," said Minkus-Lieberman, a longtime educator in the Jewish community.

When Wineman took her first Orot class, she was hooked. "The class was about Shabbat as a practice of mindfulness," she said. "I was like, 'Oh my God. This is it.'"

"We're trying to give people opportunities to really experience what it feels like and put themselves into the narrative of the Jewish people. Yoga is a wonderful avenue that allows us to do that."

She hit it off right away with Minkus-Lieberman when they realized they shared a passion for tapping into the wisdom of yoga. Soon after, the two co-taught their first class, a Rosh Chodesh yoga class, in Wineman's basement, figuring Wineman's already-established Jewish yoga clientele might be interested in trying out a Jewishly-infused meditative experience for the first time. As they predicted, the class was a hit.

So how does one connect the Hindu practice of yoga with Jewish wisdom? Wineman and Minkus-Lieberman say the two disciplines naturally align. "When I was studying yoga, I learned that there are 10 living principles--right away, I thought about the Ten Commandments. These feel very similar," said Wineman. "The 10 principles, the Yamas and Niyamas , create wholeness and are things you do in the world. It reminded me of the mitzvot , the ones you do personally and then the ones with God or with the outside world."

Wineman stresses that yoga is not a religion. "The last principle," she said, "is to 'surrender to a higher power'…Yoga is not a religion--it's not telling you to bow to a Hindu deity. It's really [up to you] who your higher power is. Yoga just provides the tools for ethical living."

For the past three years, Wineman and Minkus-Lieberman have been teaming up through Orot to forge ways to create the embodied experience of Jewish teachings and rituals for the Jewish community. They teach special yoga events around the Chicago area themed around the holidays, Jewish philosophy, and soul traits, inspired by the Mussar practice. Through their classes, they introduce a Jewish theme and integrate it into the meditation through body, breath, and movement. It's not just about thinking about the Jewish text, they say, but about feeling it in your body.

"There are many instances in our tradition where we're asked to put ourselves back in a certain reality," Minkus-Lieberman said. "We're trying to give people opportunities to really experience what it feels like and put themselves into the narrative of the Jewish people. Yoga is a wonderful avenue that allows us to do that."

For instance, in preparation for Passover this past spring, they taught a yoga and meditation class intended to embody the felt sense of liberation through posture and movement. "You're supposed to imagine as if you yourself went out of Egypt. You can think about that intellectually-you can think about liberation and slavery," Minkus-Lieberman said. "But in this class, we really wanted people to personally experience the arc of Passover, of moving from an enslaved experience to a liberated experience."  

The instructors use yoga as a tool to explore Jewish contemplative questions throughout the entire Jewish calendar. For Purim, they ask students to reflect on what joy feels like in their body. For the High Holidays, they match postures and movements to illustrate showing up more fully in the year ahead. On Chanukah, they explore what it means to embody light in times of darkness.

In the summertime, they hold a beach yoga class--this year on the morning of July 8 at Glencoe Beach-where they ask their students to attune themselves to, and give gratitude for, the natural world around them, the gifts of the sunrise, the sand, and the waves.

Wineman and Minkus-Lieberman also offer Shabbat retreats, incorporating movement and meditation, into an immersive two-day experience.

All the programming shares the goal of carving out a space of refuge amidst the chaos of daily living, explained Minkus-Lieberman. "Life is just crazy," she said. "There's noise and information overload all the time, and people are craving opportunities for quiet, rest, refuge, and meaning."
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To register for the "Moving with the Waves" yoga experience on July 8, visit bit.ly/MovingWithWaves.

Sarede Switzer, a guru in “kosher” yoga, runs a successful yoga and fitness studio in Crown Heights, NY with a mostly religious, female client base.

“The majority of my clientele are Jewish religious women who don’t feel so comfortable going to a regular yoga studio, where it’s a mixed class or a religious element like an idol or chanting.”

While Switzer is not into trends like Torah Yoga and Kabbalah Yoga, she does believe in bringing this wonderful form of physical and mental exercise into religious, Jewish communities and making it more accessible to them. For example, Switzer won’t use the term “sun salutations” for the common yoga flow series but will utilize the movements and make it more Jewish-friendly. As the demand for yoga grew in the Jewish community, Switzer moved away from teaching in private homes and opened her studio. The studio has even branched out to include a popular “Jewmba” class and a highly anticipated all mens Yoga class.

The interest in Kosher Yoga has grown so much that Sarede and Kinneret Feuer have successfully been running a Yoga Teacher Training course in Toronto, New York, and Israel, suitable for Jewish women of all backgrounds. The next New York training begins August 4th and the next Israel training begins July 7th.

For more information about Crown Heights Fitness, check out: http://www.crownheightsfitness.com

For more information on Sarede and Kinneret’s Yoga Teacher Training, check out: http://www.kinneretyogatraining.com/
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Keep up the great work, ladies!