Any Psych-101 student can describe the psychological effects of repetition. Told something often enough, the average subject can be manipulated to believe countless falsities.
In this sense, repetition probably takes advantage of a part of the mind that builds up a sense of reality based on reliability: burn yourself once, it could be a fluke, but touch a fire for the third time and you accept the fact that there is a correlation between the fire and the consequential burn. But our mind might have a hard time distinguishing between the repetition of a lie and the repetition of something true.
The closest thing that Orthodox Judaism has to a mantra is the first sentence of the Shema. We repeat it twice daily in prayer, before bed, when we feel threatened, prior to death, etc.. It compresses the most essential aspect of our faith—belief in our God as a singular, universal God—into six words.
But the obligatory repetition could make even the most devout members of our faith a little cynical. Every time you say Shema, you’re using basic psychological tactics to convince yourself that “Hashem is God, Hashem is One.” There’s a good chance that part of the reason we believe in God is because we’ve been psychologically conditioned to believe in Him through the use of repetition.
No one wants to have a faith tainted by human weakness. But is there a way out?
The main problem is that if there is a psychological trap built into our religion, it’s built very well:
1. As long as we repeat the Shema regularly, we are conditioning ourselves to believe in God.
2. As long as we believe in God, we recognize the obligation to repeat the Shema.
3. As long as we repeat the Shema, we cannot test our faith.
But what if the repetition is the test?
There is a classic acting exercise developed by Sanford Meisner that calls for two actors to say the same word or phrase back and forth to each other until they are somehow internally compelled to change. The exercise is known as Repetition.
The theory behind the exercise is that the most important aspect of acting is listening. The somewhat meditative process of repeating the same phrase over and over allows both actors to become focused on the ‘reality of the moment’ rather than the self. Though the rules of the game are simple, it is, in actuality, quite a difficult task to master. Two well-trained actors engrossed in a round of Repetition is an impressive, and often inspiring, thing to watch.
Interestingly, the six-word first paragraph of Shema is two words too long. There’s no reason, as a mantra, for the words “Shema Yisrael” (“Hear, Israel”) to be expressed. But if the repetition of Shema has a purpose similar to Meisner’s intent regarding his acting exercise, the very essence is hearing and understanding. This may also be why, unlike any other prayer, we cover our eyes when we say Shema, to help us concentrate on what we hear, not what we say.
Perhaps the reading of Shema is a conversation. You say to Israel: “Hear: Hashem is God, Hashem is One.” And the Shema is repeated back to you when someone else calls out to Israel. And this continues, constantly testing the sincerity of your statement. Does Israel believe you? Do you believe Israel? Are you compelled to move? Are you really listening?
3 comments:
Excellent Blog. I have been troubled by the repetition of Shema and the psychological effects of the repetition. Your blog strongly addresses the issue. Thank you.
An intriguing directive. What is the mitzva exactly? If you have, in your family, some salutation that is exchanged -- the words of that salutation lose their meaning and take on a body of emotional meanings that carry history and its agony-s and strivings. If you love a certain poem, it comes to be that you read it without reading it but only using its rhythm and cadence to awaken a certain remembrance. If you realize that what you truly want is to experience again the first reading or the first expression -- you have to knock at your mind and awaken the genesis. Is this the obligation of Shema: are we supposed to come to it every time with the concentration of discovery? Or is it a memory?
Mackenzie -- thank you for the comment and the continued support.
Anonymous -- Isn't understanding--hearing--always a memory? Can you hear people while they speak or only later, once you have processed their words? Then the barometer for true discovery is the sensation of remembering what hasn't happened yet, what is happening now. And a memory is most reliably true when it coincides with discovery. I would say this is, ideally, how we are supposed to approach Shema (and greetings and poetry).
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