Western tantra, Christian and Hindu celibacy, Tibetan sexual yoga, Buddhist monasticism . . . as we began discussing these vastly divergent approaches to sexuality in spiritual life, I wondered what Judaism had to say about the subject. Raised in a Reconstructionist synagogue with a liberal Zionist approach, I knew, on a cellular level, the importance to Jews of family and children. But were there any teachings on sexuality itself, apart from the all-important injunction that my relatives never cease to remind me of, to be fruitful and multiply? To find out, I called Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi. Rabbi Schachter is renowned for his pioneering efforts to foster interfaith dialogue and spiritual renewal. Ordained as a rabbi in 1947, he is Professor Emeritus of Jewish Mysticism and Psychology of Religion at Temple University and currently holds the World Wisdom Chair at Naropa Institute. Reb Zalman, as he is affectionately known, brought to life for us the captivating Judaic teachings on sexuality.

In our first conversation, he began by saying, "Really, a woman shouldn't interview a man about these things." I agreed. Then Reb Zalman surprised me, for he went on to describe a spiritual view on sexual union that was so deeply moving, respectful and explicit that I put down the phone in wonder, having glimpsed, from the picture he had painted, how sexuality could indeed be sacred.

The traditional Jewish teachings are about bringing God into the picture. "Don't leave God out of it!" Reb Zalman says when he instructs his Bar Mitzvah students about sexuality. Between a man and a woman, specifically a husband and wife, God is made present in their most intimate contact together, and that time is seen as a blessing. Having sex is regarded as a mitzvah, the fulfillment of a divine commandment, and is to be approached as delicately and with as much respect as one would approach any other occasion of worship.

In Judaism, marriage is the threshold to active sexuality. The context is set at the beginning: the blessing uniting the bride and groom begins, "Give great joy to these beloved companions, as you gave joy to Adam and Eve," and continues, "Blessed are you, Oh Lord, who causes the bridegroom and bride to rejoice in each other." The couple's attention is drawn from each other as the source of pleasure to that source which is far greater than any individual, and perhaps most importantly, their sexual delight is sanctified.

Through Rabbi Schachter, I learned of a thirteenth century treatise on sexuality by Rabbi Nachmanides. In The Holy Letter, Nachmanides defines sacred sexuality and the vast difference between experiences of erotic joy within—and outside of—the bounds set in the Torah. He writes: "When a man cleaves to his wife in holiness, the divine presence is manifested. In the mystery of man and woman, there is God. But if they are only aroused, the divine presence will leave them and it will become fire."

In Orthodox Judaism, detailed prescriptions are laid down for the man, instructing him on how to please his wife. He is meant to give her delight, carefully showing her his affection and desire, so that the woman does not feel unloved, undesired or objectified. When they make love, the husband is instructed to speak gently to his wife, and through his words excite her erotic passion. He should also speak to her about higher matters, lifting her thoughts to spiritual contemplation. The great Rambam [Moses Maimonides, 1134-1204] instructs: "You should first create an atmosphere, speaking to her in a manner that draws her heart after you, appeasing her, making her happy, thus binding her thoughts to yours. It is fitting to say some things that will arouse her and generate love and desire, and some things that will inspire her with awe of Heaven and pious, modest behavior." And the husband is specifically prohibited from speaking with his wife about other matters during this time, for that will distract them, lessening their arousal and their pleasure. He is even urged to make love with her when he is about to go away on a journey, and again when he returns. Why? Because she will miss him while he is away.

"Is it true that Orthodox Jews have intercourse through a hole in a sheet in order to minimize the erotic experience?" I asked the Rabbi, referring to a tale I had heard from my peers in my Jewish youth group. "Not at all," Reb Zalman set me straight. "In fact, it's the opposite. According to the teaching, the couple should be completely unclothed. There should be nothing between them, as there should be no distance between us and God." What Reb Zalman told me was certainly true. I found a passage from one of the greatest rabbinic commentaries, the Shulchan Aruch, that takes this commandment one step further: "If a man says, 'I only desire to be intimate while I and she are clothed'—he must divorce her and give her the amount of money specified in the marriage contract. Because the Torah requires specifically that there be physical closeness."

There is a full-bodied sensuality expressed in Judaism, from the rich melodic prayers taken from the Song of Songs, to the swaying and bowing of fervently praying Jews, to the sweet smell of cloves and oranges at the close of the Sabbath, to the designation of the Sabbath as a specially consecrated time to make love. Practically, the Sabbath eve is a spacious and relaxed time for intimacy—the week's work is finished and laid aside, the house has been cleaned, meals prepared; the day of rest stretches out before you. Symbolically, the Sabbath is God's bride. In beautiful imagery and prayers chanted on Friday evening, the devoted worshippers beckon the bride, the Sabbath bride. And likewise, the husband courts his wife, honoring his commitment to her under the marriage contract, and honoring the Sabbath Queen.

These poetic rituals stand as metaphors of the Israelites' love of God, and at the same time, they seem perfectly designed to address some of the most common, albeit often unverbalized, uncertainties in intimate relationships: How often? When? These questions, potentially a source of anxiety, conflict, miscommunication or projection, are addressed by this body of commandments. The rabbis have even commented on the sheer number and detail of the regulations surrounding sexual intimacy, explaining that these laws are not intended to restrict or prohibit intimate relations but to generate closeness and sanctity in the relationship.

When asked, "Why did the Creator design such an intricate body of law?" One of the rabbinic commentators said: "Because if a husband gets used to his wife through constant contact, he might become disinterested in her. Thus the Torah said, let them be separated for [specified periods] so that she will be as beloved to her husband as she was when she entered the wedding canopy."

I was struck by the humanity in these teachings, which communicate a very sweet and dignified relationship to sexuality and to one's partner. Through Judaism's acceptance and demystification of sexual desire and sexual expression, sex becomes matter-of-fact, simply part of the human experience. And yet, at the same time, with their constant references to that which transcends the participants, the Jewish teachings on sexuality again and again evoke a sense of wonder.

Compared to the detail that the rabbinic commentaries go into regarding the practical meaning of the Torah's laws for man and woman, not much is written about the more esoteric, mystical view. Yet the Kabbalah [Judaic mystical teaching] does address a transcendent potential in sexual union not unlike that described in Eastern tantric traditions. Not only should God be present in lovemaking, but sexual union itself is seen as a vehicle for transcendence, where the union of husband and wife symbolizes the kabbalistic goal of yichud—cosmic merging. I was intrigued to find that a body of law so precise in its code of ethical conduct also contains a teaching on the dissolution of separate existence and the realization of absolute unity.

Through his personal warmth and effusive nature, Rabbi Schachter himself conveyed much of the spirit and humanity of these teachings. In each of our conversations, he gave generously of his own insights, contemplations and knowledge. His obvious enthusiasm, coupled with evocative traditional commentary, illuminated a broad and multifaceted view on sexuality, leaving us with much to contemplate about the Jewish view on how best to navigate this challenging area of life.