Do you consider yourself a passionate person? Do you get excited, have strong convictions, and find yourself getting caught up in the fervor of things quite often?

If your answer is yes, good for you! It’s probably just a wee bit easier for you to get involved in good causes, celebrate your purpose in life, and, of course, to experience religion. After all, religion is quite spiritual and purpose-driven, so if you’re naturally passionate, your religious experiences will probably come more easily and with greater power.

But what if you’re not so excitable? What if you’re simply phlegmatic about most things in life? Is a deeply felt religious experience not for you?

Judah and Submission

The answer lies in Jacob’s blessing to his children just before his death. First comes the eldest, Reuben, then in succession: Simeon, Levi, and child number four, Judah:

Judah, [as for] you, your brothers will submit to you.1

Submission is a theme with Judah; it accounts for his very name. When he was born, his mother Leah exclaimed, “‘This time, I will thank (odeh)G‑d!’ Therefore, she named him Judah (Yehudah).”2 While the conventional translation is, indeed “I will thank,” an equally valid alternative translation renders the meaning “I will submit.”

So, we must ask, what is it about Judah that invokes submission?

A Progressive Relationship with G‑d

Kabbalah explains that each of the first four tribes corresponds to one’s progressive journey in forging a relationship with G‑d.

For example, Rueben means to “see.” As with any healthy relationship, the first step is to see one another. And that doesn’t mean simply beholding the object of your love with your eyes, rather a deeper, more connected sense of perception.

To create a relationship with G‑d, you must first “see” Him. This is typically done during prayer, where you spend much time contemplating His greatness, the sheer vastness of Creation, and how that great and awesome G‑d put everything aside and focused His attention on you. The more you think about it, the more real G‑d becomes.

And then you start to see Him.

You “see” Him when a business deal goes awry and you feel hopeless, but you take a deep breath and say, “G‑d, I trust in You, please help me.” And then, all of a sudden, a phone call comes in with an even better venture.

Yes, you see Him then alright.

But it doesn’t stop there. That’s just first base, the “Rueben-rung” of the ladder in this relationship building project. There’s still Simeon and Levi to go, but to learn about them, you’ll need to check out the source below and read up on your own.

Let’s get to Judah.

Losing Yourself with G‑d

Judah means to “submit.” This is the pinnacle, when the relationship has flowered into something really special.

You see, submission means that the two parties are no longer two parties, rather one. Let’s swap out “submit” with “lose,” and understand that to climb the Judah rung of this ladder is to lose yourself entirely in your relationship with G‑d. There’s nothing to “see” (like Reuben) at this point; you’ve arrived and you are completely lost in the awesomeness of it all.

Let’s break that down.

Have you ever listened to the type of music that moves you so thoroughly, it sweeps you off your feet and transports you to such a deep place, you’re left shaking when it’s done?

You close your eyes as the tune begins. You breathe deeply, and the music courses through your very being. It’s as if the melody is literally going through your body, and you are completely lost in the experience.

When that happens, you know that your experience was deeper than any of the people who were dancing, jumping, or singing along. Sure, they’re excited, and they, too, are connected with the experience. But you? You’re not just connected, you are the experience! You and the music are one, as if its waves have crashed through you and swallowed you in the frenzy of its force.

This is the Judah experience. After the heavy lifting of his brothers—the work you put in to “see” G‑d and do everything else to get to this place—you’re completely lost in the relationship.

This explains why in our daily prayers, the most important portion, the Amidah, is silent. In contrast to the other parts of prayer which are chanted, sung, or otherwise said aloud, this prayer must not be audible.3

Why?

As the peak moment of losing yourself with G‑d, it is deep, it is profound, and so, it is experienced in utter silence.

Do It, and Do It Deeply

Judaism is absolutely into “losing yourself.” After all, what can be better than jumping out of your limited experience as a human and losing yourself in something far greater? If people are looking to lose themselves in a piece of Chopin or a quasi-spiritual experience in the Black Rock Desert, why shouldn’t you take advantage of the infinitely greater chance afforded to you every day?

Of course, it would be a tall and unrealistic order to expect to reach such levels all day, every day. But it is every bit available in pockets of time and space to those who choose to grab the opportunity.

And the marvelous thing about such a realization is this: Judaism isn’t only for those naturally passionate or excitable. It always seems so easy for those who can easily light the spark of their soul and sway in prayer like the Angel Michael, or knead challah dough with the joy of a kid in a candy store.

But what if you feel you’re just … more ordinary? What if you’re naturally a bit more dispassionate or cool-headed about life? Is the vigor and passion of Judaism not for you?

The opposite!

In fact, you’re the first person in line for it. Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. Let it course through you. Lose yourself without getting out of your chair; it’s OK. Say the blessing over the wine, candles, or whatever it is. Murmur a word of prayer, shake a lulav—what have you. Do it, and do it deeply.

You might lose yourself. And there’s nothing greater than that.4