Getting Selichot

My apologies for not sharing or publishing more often, but the blog as been unofficially been put "on hold" and I hope to have more clarity of the future of this resource in the new Jewish Year (if you like or feel strongly about this blog, please feel free to comment and/or share so that I can pass on the feedback).

However I did not want to miss the opportunity to share a wonderful perspective on selichot - which begin for Ashkanzim tonight, the motzai Shabbat before Rosh Hashana. Rabbi Benny Lau made a fascinating point this evening about the uniqueness of the selichot service.

There are specific rules governing tefilla, which often call upon a rabbi or gabbai to arbitrate what should be said under specific circumstances.  One such questions arises regarding the kaddish titkabel - the full kaddish. Rav Benny noted that this is only said after davening the Amidah - which the gemara really considers tefilla.  Interestingly, kaddish titkabel is said at the end of the selichot service, despite the very absence of the Amidah.  His argument was that we are to treat this service with the similar level of preparation and intensity, as the structural hope of the kaddish asks for Hashem to receive (titkabel) the requests and prayers, and follows with our desire for peace to come upon us and all of Israel.  Rav Benny cited a source (I think the Levush Malchut) arguing that selichot are structured like a normal mincha service, starting with ashrei, followed but a hatzi kaddish, and ending with tachanun and then kaddish titkabel. The motivational goal here is for each of us to reapproach our selcihot to the core text, the 13 attributes and to see them as an opportunity to a recharge our divine sparks.

I want to humbly add on to Rav Benny's words by noting that the essence of Neilla on Yom Kippur is the furious recitation of selichot and our plea's for mercy rooted in the heritage of the covenant of the 13 attributes as the gates of the day close.

I hope that you have a meaningful preparation for the High Holy Days.

If You Could Ask God One Question?

Tefilla is special time to think and ponder - not just to chant words and verses (sometimes I forget this).  One of the biggest tensions in tefilla is that between form and substance - the rules of what must be said and when against the feelings and thoughts of the heart behind the structure. The Mishna in Brachot cites Rebbe Eliezer teaching, "one who makes his prayer fixed (keva) - his prayer is not a prayer (tahnunim)". The natural structural platform for spontaneous prayer is during the shma koleuni section of the Amidah - we you can add your own requests and ruminations.

But what if you only could as one question?  Chief Rabbi Sacks answers this question arguing that it is the "best question anyone should ask God."  I think this is a great exercise to ask your students - and push each person to focus the essence of their prayers and actions.

A Doctor's Prayer

The following is an awesome article by Marjorie Ordene featured in Tabletmag - I love its honesty and moderns sense of struggle.  I think it raises a great point regarding how tefilla, when it breaks out of the synagogue into one's professional and personal world, feels a more significant tool for an individual to connect to God.
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Praying for My Patients

As a doctor, I know there’s a power higher than me. That’s why I pray every day for the people I’m treating.

By Marjorie Ordene| February 7, 2013 7:00 AM |

Fifteen years ago, my husband came home from the daf yomi Talmud lecture he attended every day and proclaimed: “All good doctors go to hell.”

As a holistic doctor —and, I thought, a good one—I was taken aback. “Why would good doctors go to hell?” I asked. Brought up in a secular Jewish home, I had always believed in a rational, scientific world where doctors were treated with a certain respect or even awe. I had only become observant a few months before my marriage to Ethan, who’d been raised in a religious home. I wondered if this belief about doctors was common wisdom among observant Jews.

Seeming to relish my surprise, Ethan eagerly explained, “The good doctors go to hell because they don’t pray for their patients. They believe they’re doing the healing.” He waited for his words to sink in before asking, “And what about you?”

The question has stayed with me ever since. I took his point to heart and decided, after some reflection, to try bringing prayer into my medical practice. It didn't come naturally. At first, the idea of praying for anyone reminded me of my religious Christian friends, who were always offering to pray for me—which I found vaguely annoying. But then my aunt became ill and slipped into a coma. I remembered seeing my mother-in-law praying for people by name when she lit her Shabbos candles, so I decided to give it a whirl. After six weeks, my aunt recovered.

That convinced me. Ever since, I've prayed for my patients every day.

***

Growing up as a secular Jew, I had never put much stock in the power of spirituality until I took a trip to England in 1989 and stayed with my brother’s wife’s cousin, Aubrey Rose, who introduced me to a family secret: Aubrey and his wife claimed to have communicated repeatedly and reliably with their dead son David through a medium. I was so impressed with this new insight that I vowed to explore the hidden spiritual side of things—in general, and in a Jewish context. I started attending a Conservative egalitarian synagogue and, when that didn't satisfy (religion ended at the shul door), moved on to an Orthodox one.

Around the same time, my professional life as an M.D. was also shaken up. I was working at a small, not-for-profit clinic that offered alternative services like acupuncture and biofeedback. To fulfill my continuing medical education requirement, I attended a seminar in nutritional medicine at The Omega Center, a former Yiddish summer camp in Rhinebeck, New York, now serving as a retreat for holistic studies. But before settling into my assigned course, I first sat in on classes on qi gong, yoga, and mindfulness. When I returned to the clinic, I began to put my new spiritually informed medical training into practice, eventually leaving that office to open one of my own.

It was also around this time that I, a newly observant Jew, was introduced to and married Ethan.

When Ethan later made his big pronouncement about “good doctors,” I had already been praying for five or six years and practicing holistic medicine for nine or 10—but I hadn't thought about how the two might fit together. Mixing prayer with medicine can be awkward. It’s one thing to daven privately, but to introduce prayer into the doctor-patient relationship crosses a line, almost like breaching the separation of church and state. What right do I have to speak to a patient about God? What if he is an atheist?

I had read of studies showing that prayer promotes healing, but it wasn't until my aunt’s miraculous recovery that I began to consider prayer on a more personal level. Something shifted inside me. I had moved from being someone who felt uncomfortable praying for anyone to someone who felt a desire, even an obligation, to put in a good word for those who suffered. As I sat at my kitchen table each morning, I would add the names of ailing people to my prayers. I started with my parents and elderly relatives, then added the names of people I’d heard about in the community, and finally, tacked on “and all my patients,” at the end of the list. I was determined not to be one of those “good doctors” who didn't pray for her patients.

The first time I prayed for a specific patient was when a woman with ovarian cancer gave me her Hebrew name and asked me to pray for her. I added her name to my list. Later, when another Jewish patient was diagnosed with uterine cancer, it seemed appropriate that I inquire after her Hebrew name. Although not religious, she readily told me her name, Nechama, but she had to email me later with her mother’s name, which she gave as Laura. In both these cases, I was not actively treating the patients for their life-threatening condition; as a holistic physician, the conditions my patients see me to treat are rarely life-threatening.

Over the years, I've noticed that praying draws me closer to God, and it also brings me closer to my patients. If I prayed for a patient in the morning and she walks in during the afternoon, I feel a special connection, like seeing a long lost friend. I think this works both ways, like the patient who regularly calls me and begins by saying, “Hey, Doc, it’s me, Miriam bas Esther.” She knows I’m praying for her.

There was one patient, though, I couldn't help. She was suffering from terrible anxiety—so much so that she was too anxious to try any of my treatments. This patient I prayed for. I never told her, just added her name to my list. Sadly, the one treatment she wanted was estrogen, and when she later developed breast cancer, she became convinced that it was the estrogen I prescribed that caused her cancer. She decided to sue me.

Now I faced a conundrum: Should I still pray for her or drop her from my prayers like a hot potato? I decided to wait for Shabbos and ask my brother-in-law, who is a rabbi. Upon hearing my story, his answer came swiftly: “You can tell her to go to Hartford, Hereford, and Hampshire! Do not pray for her; and if she ever wants to come back, do not see her!” I dropped the potato. If the Almighty wants to heal her, I figured, he will—with or without my prayers.

***

I’d love to report all my successes with prayer, but unfortunately I’m not aware of any. Some patients—including the woman with ovarian cancer, an elderly gentleman with urinary retention, and an octogenarian with Alzheimer’s—are doing reasonably well, but I can’t say it’s because of my prayers. The patient with uterine cancer passed away. But in fact, it’s the very nature of prayer that we don’t always get what we ask for. That doesn't mean our prayers aren't answered; they are, just not in the way we expect. Still, no matter what the outcome, I know patients take comfort in having someone pray for them.

Offering to pray for a patient can feel like an admission of powerlessness. After all, patients come to doctors for answers. A physician is an authority figure. To turn around and say I need to speak to a higher authority could be seen as a sign of weakness, ignorance, or at the very least, lack of confidence. But that strikes at the heart of the Gemara—“Tov she’berofim leGehinnom— the best of doctors are destined to go to Gehinnom [hell].” I’ve researched this Gemara and discovered its real meaning. It’s not as I originally thought, that doctors who don’t pray for their patients go to Gehinnom. Rather, it’s doctors who don’t feel a need to ask anyone else, neither other doctors nor the Creator, so confident are they in their own abilities—they are the ones who go to hell. Some commentators say that these “good” doctors either omit the refa’einu blessing—the prayer for healing—in the Shemoneh Esrei or else say it without intent.

I will never have that kind of confidence. I enjoy consulting with other doctors and attend medical conferences to keep up-to-date. There I listen to the authorities, leaders in my field. Attendees sit in rows with their laptops open, taking notes. After each series of lectures, there is an “ask the experts” session with the presenters. No one talks about God, no one mentions prayer. But I for one am thinking of him. I bet some of these other doctors, these experts, are doing the same—and I bet some of them also pray for their patients.

Every morning, when I daven, I come back to the refa’einu blessing. I recite my list: Miriam bas Esther, another few patients, a sick relative, a few friends, and then “all my patients.” In praying for my patients, I’m speaking directly to the Creator, making him a partner in my medical practice. It’s not that I don’t trust my skills as a doctor; I do, but I also know that there’s a power higher than me. I’m not one of those “good” doctors who know it all. I really need his help, and that’s why I pray.

***

Marjorie Ordene practices holistic medicine in Brooklyn.

Shaking Up Your School's Tefilla Options

The following is a school letter -shared by a loyal Davenspot reader - that was sent to parents at SAR Academy in Riverdale, NY.  I have heard some buzz from some parents who were pleasantly surprised by the school's attempt to shake up the davening status-quo and others who were angry at the disruption to the traditional framework of tefilla.  This is quite a bold step, especially for an Orthodox day school, and think this educational approach should be further studied and discussed; I will let you be the judge. 

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Dear Parents,

I would like to inform you of an important initiative we are about to embark upon regarding tefillah. As you know, this year our school wide theme is dveykut, God awareness. Through curricular programming in beit midrash groups and co-curricular programming such as color war we have been exploring ways of deepening our connection to God. Our daily tefillah presents an important opportunity to work on and strengthen this relationship.

Daily tefillah can be a challenging experience in Modern Orthodox schools. Meaningful tefillah takes great effort and concentration, and students come to tefillah with various levels of readiness to engage. We believe it is essential to immerse our students in a routine of tefillah. Each day, we set aside time to daven as Jews have for centuries. On our best days, our tefillah is inspired and meaningful; on other days, it is more rote. And at times there is a need to break from the routine in order to enrich, reflect upon and more fully appreciate the power of prayer. In that spirit and as part of our year-long theme, davening at SAR High School will look different during the week of January 7th.

During that week, we will be offering over twenty different tefillah options to our students. The options range from discussions of why we pray, to musical tefillah, to artistic expression to meditation. The goal of the experimental tefillah week is to provide students with different avenues to connect to tefillah and to encourage us to be inspirational in our relationship with God. After the experimental tefillah week students will have the opportunity to reflect upon their experience. We envision continuing some of the tefillah groups a few days a week throughout the year, and bringing aspects of others to enrich our regular minyanim.

Some practical information: Yesterday, students were presented with the list of tefillah options and asked to choose a few in which they are interested. Students will attend the same tefillah all week in order to ensure the richness of the experience. Some tefillah groups will daven the full tefillah and add elements, such as music or explanation. Some tefillah groups will daven an abridged פסוקי דזמרה in order to allow time for other experiences. On Monday and Thursday all students will hear קריאת התורה. As part of the women’s tefillah option, girls will have the opportunity to read from the Torah.

I would like to thank our remarkable faculty for the time and effort they have invested in creating these opportunities for our community. We could not embark upon this initiative without their tremendous dedication, actively engaging in opening up meaningful religious opportunities for our students.

We are excited about the opportunities for spiritual growth that this week will offer us on both a personal and communal level. We look forward to sharing our reflections with you.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Tully Harcsztark

Principal, SAR High School

DESCRIPTIONS OF TEFILAH GROUPS FOR THE DVEYKUT B’TFILAH WEEK

1. Explanatory Tefilah

Is Tefilah a struggle for you? Do you find yourself daydreaming during a long Pesukei D’Zimra? Do you feel alienated from most prayers? We hope to explore, think about, and begin to understand what it is we are really doing during tefilah and how each prayer leads into the next, creating a beautiful tapestry. We will focus on a shorter, but more meaningful tefilah experience, culminating in a unique Hitbodidut (solitary) engagement with Tefilah and God.

2. מעט בכוונה

Today's fast-paced world makes it difficult to pray with concentration and serenity. For many, the weekday Shacharit has unfortunately become about getting through all the words as quickly as possible. Theמעט בכוונה tefilah will provide the opportunity to say fewer tefillot at a slower pace. This will allow for greater concentration on each tefilah that we say. We will be not be discussing tefilah. Instead, this minyan will spend almost all of its timedavening, with a particular focus on the Amida.

3. Children's Literature Tefilah

We will aim to attain some emotional resonance in the feelings of care, love, longing, and hope that are latent in powerful works of children’s literature. We will read 2-3 children's books before, during, and after the tefilah. Ultimately, we will direct those feelings to God (and hope for those feelings from God) and to those around us through tefilah. 

4. Help, Thanks, Wow - Children's Literature Tefilah

We will aim to attain some emotional resonance in the feelings of care, love, longing, and hope that are latent in powerful works of children’s literature. We will read 2-3 children's books before, during, and after the tefilah. Ultimately, we will direct those feelings to God (and hope for those feelings from God) and to those around us through tefilah. The novelist Ann Lamott just published a book called Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers. The title pretty much gives it all away--she argues that there are three most basic and most important prayers: we ask God for help, we thank God for the help that God has already bestowed, and we marvel at the wonders of God’s creation. The "Help, Thanks, Wow" tefilla will begin the week by reading an excerpt from Lamott's book to explore why these are the essential prayers. On subsequent days, everyone in the "Help, Thanks, Wow" tefilla will be asked to formulate a Help, a Thanks, and a Wow of his/her own, and those who feel comfortable doing so can share theirs with the group. In doing so, we will burrow beneath the ritual of a shul davening to get back to the essential nature of prayer.

5. Meditation Tefilah

This tefilah incorporates guided meditations through a minimal, halakhic tefila. The meditations are based on both Jewish and universal practices, including meditations from Sefer Yetzira and chasidic texts, as well as the practice of zazen, the breathing and body practices of Zen Buddhism. This tefilah also incorporates contemplative nigunim either between tefillot or to the words of a select tefilah.

6. Musical Tefilah

Inspired by the davening of Karlin (where there is a lot of screaming and crying out in the midst of prayer) and that of Rabbi Ebn Leader, we will cultivate a davening which is rooted in song. Sometimes repetitive, sometimes quiet and slow, sometimes loud and overpowering, music has the power to both express and stir up an emotional davening. This davening is for the sincere and not the cynical. Please bring your hearts, souls, voices, and musical instruments!

7. Women’s Tefilah

Women’s tefilah provides an all-girls space in which girls run and lead the davening. On Monday and Thursday girls will layn and get aliyot. We will also have an opportunity to learn and discuss tefillot written by and for women. 

8. Reflection Tefilah

In this tefilah, we will explore themes that emerge from various passages in the siddur. Each day, we will choose a particular tefilah to study, reflect on its theme, and write personal responses. We will pay specific attention to the themes of gratitude, wonder, forgiveness, peoplehood, and aspiration as they present themselves throughout the Shacharit service. Please bring a pen and paper/journal to this tefilah. 

9. Solitary Tefilah

This tefilah option is about connecting to God and yourself at your own pace in a quiet atmosphere. Everyone will have his/her own makom kavua with no 2 chairs next to one another. You will daven quietly, pace yourself, focus on the tefillot that are meaningful to you, and you can daven in whatever language you choose. You will be in an environment of prayer, but you will be davening alone, without interruption, and with only your own mind, heart and siddur, to guide you. For the last 5 minutes of each day we will come together as a group and reflect on the solitary tefilla experience. 

10. Tefilat Eit Tzara
The Ramban claims that the Biblical obligation to daven is only in times of crisis. In this minyan we will daven a quick psukei dezimra, followed by a 10 minute multimedia presentation and discussion preceding Barchu. Through the presentation and discussion we will learn about a particular crisis with the goal being to focus our tefillot on addressing a different issue each day. Issues will cover national, international and personal itei tzara.

11. Yoga Tefilah

Being in the right mood for tefilah is about mental focus and physical composure. In this tefilah group we will practice Yoga as a means towards achieving better focus and kavannah during tefilah. Bring a yoga mat if you have one, and make sure to dress appropriately for תפילה 

12. Tisch Tefilah
Stories and song are a powerful way of connecting to God. At this tefilah we will daven an abridged tefilah, followed by a vibrant tisch filled with inspiring song and stories.

13. Without Intelligence, Whence Prayer?
This service will attempt to clear the space in which meaningful tefilah can happen by focusing on intellectual reflection as a means of overcoming alienation from authentic prayer. Each day, prior to a slightly abbreviated tefilah, we will recite the birkhot ha-torah together and then study and discuss a different text essential to a satisfactory, and satisfying, practice of prayer. The explicit goal is to evoke the nature of tefilah in a manner that will initiate and enhance its heartfelt performance. 

14. Exploring Nusach Tefilah

This tefilah will explore nuschaot of tefilla from around the world by davening in a different nusach each day. We will highlight some of the major differences between Ashkenaz, Sefard, Eidot mizrach, and Nusach Ha-Ari.

15. Philosophy and Poetry of Prayer

Why should we pray? Does God really listen? Should I expect God to say "yes"? Is it really all about that, anyway? We will explore different philosophies of prayer, also using some of the tefillot themselves as our guide. פסוקי דזמרה will be shortened.

16. Shout it Out, Slow and Loud

This tefilah will employ the technique found in many sefaradi shuls in the world that all the words of the hazan are said out loud and together with all members of the kahal. We will say selected parts of the pesukei dezimra and tachanun on Mondays and Thursdays, skipping parts of those sections in the standard siddur, while saying the parts that we do say slowly, out loud and with a tune or two.

17. Piano Tefilah

After an abridged davening we will join together around the piano in the cafeteria for lively songs and stories to add joy to our day.

18. Artistic Expression Tefilah

Art is often likened to meditation- and by creating art we become closer to ourselves, nature and God. Students participating in Art/Tefilah option will daven an abbreviated tefilah and have time to create art with particular mindfulness toward spirituality.

19 Finding God in our Prayers

Are our prayers directed to God, to ourselves, or to our community? In this tefilah, a science teacher reflects on the meaning of particular prayers, especially those connected to health and wellness. We will daven an abridged davening, followed by stories and discussion.

20. Meditating on the Amidah

Using basic meditative breathing we will work through a minimal amount of davening and then focus on the thirteen central berachot of the Amida. We will learn to be present with our breath, our bodies and with the words of the siddur. In addition, time will be spent inserting ourselves into the prayers so that we are reciting our own words and not only the words of our tradition.

21. Israel Awareness Tefilah

Every morning we mention the land of Israel numerous times in our prayers, but how much attention do we really pay to it? This tefilah will highlight the portions of davening that focus on Israel. We will use those sections of tefilah as entryways into discussion of current political, religious and social issues facing the State of Israel. Through increased awareness of Israel’s current state of affairs we will be better equipped to direct our tefillot for her welfare.

22. Prayer and Justice- L’taken Olam B’malchut Shakkai

We will explore how tefilah can make change in the world. Join us for meditation, learning, and davening that connects Judaism's most heavenly ideas to our world's most real problems.

Thanksgiving & Chanukah

I know that it is a bit belated to speak about Thanksgiving but I wanted to share this Dvar Torah from Rabbi Akiva Block on the topic of giving thanks and in the spirit of singing Hallel for Chanukah.  I think his point is valid - shouldn't we have this appreciation every day?  My father in law often points out that Rav Soliveitchik taught that we say a mini Hallel each morning in the form of the Psalms 145-150 in the morning seder tefilla.  What are some other ways that you concertize your gratitude?

Thanksgiving is a time when we all come together to be thankful for our many blessings. With family, friends, feast, and football, it is a day of time-honored tradition which warms the hearts and the homes of virtually all who participate. 

It has been nearly 150 years since Abraham Lincoln’s declaration of a Day of Thanksgiving in 1863. Needless to say, the notion of giving thanks is one which was featured prominently in the Jewish tradition long before then. Three times a day, we recite in the Amidah prayer, a blessing of thanksgiving to God: “Modim anachnu lach… al nisecha sheb’chol yom imanu, v’al nifle’otecha v’tovotecha sheb’chol et, erev vavoker v’tzahoraim.” “We thank you, Lord… for your miracles which are with us each and every day, and for your wonders and your goodness which are ever-present, in the evening, the morning and the afternoon…” 

In light of our daily prayers we may be moved to ask, “Isn’t every day Thanksgiving? Why limit thanksgiving to just one day?” 

It is quite fortuitous that Thanksgiving often comes out on the week of the Torah portion of Vayetze. Upon further reflection, this week’s portion provides profound insight on the notion of giving thanks, and offers an opportunity to relate to the holiday with new-found appreciation. The Talmud (Berachot 7b) comments that in the history of the world, no one offered thanks to God until Leah did so, when she named her son Judah, saying, “this time I will thank (odeh) God, and she called him Judah (Genesis 29:35).” 

While the heroism and faith of Leah is unquestioned, thanking God despite her second class status in the house of Jacob, this comment by our sages is nonetheless quite jarring. Are we to believe that none of the greats of the previous generations ever offered thanks to God? Not Adam or Noah? Not Abraham or Sarah, or Isaac or Rebecca? Not even Jacob himself? Certainly they owed a debt of gratitude for all God had done for them. So what was unique about the gratitude of Leah? 

Perhaps Leah brought the concept of thanksgiving to a whole new level. While those before her were thankful, Leah actually concertized that thanks. She showed her gratitude by calling her son by the name Judah, a name whose very meaning is gratitude. In naming her son, she offered a lasting testament to her indebtedness to God, taking the sentiment and doing something about it, making it real. 

In truth, every day is Thanksgiving. Nonetheless, it is of inestimable value to take a day and designate it as a day called Thanksgiving. We are offered the opportunity to concertize our gratitude, to take our feelings of indebtedness that we all have and bring them to the fore. Just as Leah eternalized her gratitude by making it her son’s name, so too we take ours, which we express verbally thrice daily, and devote a day to reflection and expression of our thanks. 

Through the lessons of Leah, may the feelings and emotions of gratitude and Thanksgiving permeate within all of us.

Guest Post: Davening is Tough

So we all know davening is a tough discipline.

But one of the many nuggets of motivation that I find super validating is found in the davening itself.  It is a small line that we utter several times a day. 

Just before we begin the Amida we say 6 words.  Often these words are said without focus on what their meaning is.

The words are "Ado-ai siftai tiftach u'fi yagid t'helaticha". 
אֲדֹנָי שְׂפָתַי תִּפְתָּח וּפִי יַגִּיד תְּהִלָּתֶךָ

I like to roughly translate them as, "G-d, help! Open my mouth so that I can do this prayer stuff."

To me, these words seem to validate the reality that even the tefillot themselves acknowledge that it is tough to pray.  And so, we pray that G-d will help us through the act of prayer!  And then we dive into the Amida, hoping, with G'd's help, our prayer experience is meaning infused.

WILD, huh?!

When we say these words,  G-d seems to become not only the one we direct our tefila TOWARD, but also, G-d becomes an ACTIVE PARTNER in the act of davening itself.

Don't know about you, but I think that's cool.
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Rachel Goldberg was born and raised in Chicago and now lives with her family in Israel. Rachel's teaching experience includes Judaic Studies at the Oakland Hebrew Day School, the Endangered Spirits program, she has lectured for Hebrew University's Florence Melton Adult Mini-School, WUJS, and recently wrote and published an awesome curriculum on Jewish Identity for Birthright groups. She is one of the finest Jewish role models and informal educators that I have met.

Tefilla, Resilience and Sandy: Suggestions for Educators

The following is a post by Chana Zweiter, Founding Director of The Rosh PinaMainstreaming Network. She is presently travelling in NY and shares this reflection 

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Of all the times to be in NY.  I was there this week during the angry throes of hurricane Sandy.  And I did feel the anger. I watched trees fall into windows and rip out of the earth with sidewalks.  Friends were flooded and lost important and precious items that can never be replaced – memorabilia from parents and photos of kids.

I thank God for that we are all well and were never missing much , even as I wonder and ask Him, “What’s this all about?”

Dr.Aaron Antonofsky, of Ben Gurion University was a noted Israeli physician who focused much of his efforts on helping people to be resilient, overcome challenges in their environment. Our job, he said, was to help individuals/children to develop the inner skills with which “function in the face of changes in themselves and ...their environment.”  There is no one way to respond to what has happened. We need to take the time to reflect on Sandy and not rush to draw conclusions or messages.  But right now, we as family members and educators need to be sure that our children have those inner skills.

A few years ago, Dr. Martin Seligman, leader in the field of Positive Psychology, conducted an empirical study focused on understanding what psychological interventions provide those inner skills .  He and his colleagues examined responses of individuals who were depressed to five exercises. I want to share with you here insights about the following two most effective exercises:

1. “THREE GOOD THINGS IN LIFE”. Participants were asked to write down three things that went well each day and their causes every night for one week. In addition, they were asked to provide a causal explanation for each good thing.”
2. “USING SIGNATURE STRENGTHS IN A NEW WAY.” Participants were asked to take our inventory of character strengths online at www.authentichappiness.org and to receive individualized feedback about their top five (“signature”) strengths (Peterson et al., 2005a). They were then asked to use one of these top strengths in a new and different way every day for one week.”

The study required the participants to complete the exercise for one week, but some continued for six months or longer. They attributed that to the fact the participants who continued to benefit from the exercises did so because “these two interventions involve skills that improve with practice, that are fun, and that thus are self-maintaining.”

Much has been said about the power of tefilla/prayer during this difficult period. I share this in Davenspot because I know that our tefilla provides us with those two exercises, we just need to find them. I suggest that we make daily tefilla more meaningful and connected to our daily lives  immediately,  helping our children to deal with the overwhelming helplessness that Sandy has brought:

1. The source of “THREE GOOD THINGS IN LIFE” are tefillot such as, Ma tovu, Modeh Ani, Modim Anahnu Lakh, and all the Berachot that we say on an ongoing basis. When you daven/pray tomorrow with your kids, stop before you say Ma tovu and ask them to write three things that are tov, good, in their lives. Ask them to explain why. This exercise can be adapted later on when you ask them to list what they would like to be good and how they can make it happen. Similar activities can be done when reading Modeh Ani – “for what am I grateful – to God, to my parents... “ Guiding the kids in preparing a Grateful Diary in which they record what they are grateful for every day is another exercise that will achieve this focus on what is good, taking away some weight from what is not.
    
2.  The source of “USING SIGNATURE STRENGTHS IN A NEW WAY”  can be  found in tefillot/prayers such as the first paragraph of the Amida/Shmone Esrei, which reminds us of Avraham, Yizhak and Yaakov,  forefathers, each of which is noted for a particular characteristic. Conduct a discussion about these characteristics. What were they? What do we learn from them? Then ask the students to make a list of their strengths, how they have used them in the past, and how they can adapt them to meet the immediate needs of the storm.

These are just a sampling of exercises our Ohr Hadash Tefilla Initiative provides. And their benefits are more far reaching than dealing with Sandy.

For more information about the  Ohr Hadash Tefilla Initiative, please write to us at info@kaleidoscope.org.il.

Guest Post: The Amidah Project

This post is originally from Chicago Carless, a blog by Michael Doyle, address many important issues for tefilla educators.

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For the past few months, my Reform synagogue has done something most Reform synagogues don’t: we’ve stood and recited a partially silent Amidah, Judaism’s sizeable central prayer. You find the Amidah–which means “standing” in Hebrew, because you stand when you say it–in every Jewish service, whether shacharit (the morning service), mincha (afternoon), or maariv (evening.) Tradition suggests most if not all of the Amidah is recited silently, and most Orthodox and Conservative congregations follow suit.

Yet even with the traditionalizing trend of the past three decades, many Reform congregations pray an abbreviated form of the Amidah, always out loud, and often seated for the prayer’s latter parts. Meaningful passages in Hebrew are often skipped in favor of English intepretations or, simply, left out entirely.

Aside from a few seconds for “silent prayer,” there isn’t often the same opportunity our Orthodox and Conservative brethren have to really be alone with your heartfelt intention.  In fact, a typical Reform Amidah can be far from heartfelt. It’s hard to really go deep with your tradition’s central prayer when your denomination seems afraid of it’s deepest parts.

When we decided to test out a partially silent Amidah (we still chant the first three, long blessings out loud), several people pushed back. Some were afraid they wouldn’t understand the “new” parts in Hebrew. (We use Mishkan T’Filah, Reform’s latest, fully translated and transliterated prayerbook.) Some were afraid they wouldn't know how long to stand or when to sit down. (We sit when we’re individually done.) Some said they’d miss formerly chanted or sung parts. Overall those who pushed back were afraid that they’d miss, essentially, meaning.

What we’ve found is instructive. Some people still want the “old way” back. And, frankly, I would prefer our newly silent Amidah to be one arrow in an overall quiver of ways to approach the Amidah–including our “old way.” Especially in Reform, there’s no reason to leave anybody out. (And I happen to feel quite touched when our cantor sings R’tzei.)

But overall, people seem to like our newly silent Amidah. Why? Because in those long, pungently silent minutes of silent prayer, we are finally (and in Reform, for once) rendered alone–with our thoughts, with our prayer, with our tradition. The experience has knocked many of us out, initially rendering some of us to tears. And that outcome was totally unexpected. Wonderful. Incredible. A blessing. But unexpected.

Maybe that’s how far as Reform Jews we’ve let ourselves become removed from the meaning behind the words we pray–no matter what language we choose to pray in. But the meaning is there if we just listen for it. For some in my congregation, taking ourselves off of our liturgical autopilot for a little while was enough to start to sense why we say the Amidah in the first place. The prayer is truly an emotional journey if you let it be.

I don’t blame any Reform Jew for feeling disconnected from an Amidah recited silently in Hebrew. It just hasn’t been our practice, and not a lot of us talk about our prayer experience publicly. So I will. Over the next few weeks I intend to post a series of blog entries that lay out the Reform versions of core Jewish prayers, beginning with the Amidah (both the Shabbat and weekday versions), in Hebrew transliteration and English translation, accompanied by my thoughts on my emotional experience during each specific blessing or rubric of the liturgy. (Perhaps with video, as well.) After all, I definitely feel an almost exhausting emotional journey during the Amidah. It’s a feeling worth sharing–and most of all, describing. As you may have guessed from the title of this post, I’m calling my new series “The Amidah Project.”

We can’t all be Debbie Friedman, z”l, able to find the most miraculous meanings in seemingly hidden Hebrew corners of the liturgy and set them to catchy modern music. But we can all pause, and read, and listen, and then write and talk about our experience. I invite all of my Jewish readers to do just that. Open your nearest siddur–on Shabbat, the one covered in dust in your closet, or online. Find a part where you always tune out. This time, though, tune in. Read it slowly. Sit with it. Consider what those words might really mean–from Deity, to you. You might come up with nothing. But you might come up hearing that still, small voice.

The basis for our entire tradition.

This post is part of my Amidah Project series–an attempt to examine my personal experience of the core prayers of the normative Reform Jewish liturgy. For more, please browse my Amidah Project archive.

Sounds of Silent Prayers

One of the hardest (and most special) parts of davening in a community is the Amidah. When else do you stand in a room with a hundred of people in absolute silence? The answer to this question may be never. It is often hard for people to remain quiet for the 2-4 minutes it takes for people to say their personal 'silent devotion'. The beginning seconds are bothered by the rattling chairs and soon the chatter of those that finish quickly. It is hard to resist the many small conversations but they noise the make can be incredibly frustrating to people trying to concentrate/meditate on their tefilla.

My brother-in-law recently expressed his frustration that at his shul there are couple of folks that whisper their words loud enough to create a hum and noise that interrupts his focus. We looked into the Shulchan Urech in Hilchot Tefilla halacha 101 where it states that you should not only pray in your heart, rather you should move the words on your lips and hear the words in your ears quietly and not hear his voice; these words are appropriate for oneself, but if in a community it is forbidden to disturb the community. This is an allusion to Hannah's prayer in Samuel 1 Chapter 2 which many prayer practices are learned from. Interesting to see the Mishna Berura's comment on this verse which links people who daven loudly as following in the prophets of falsehood and accuses them of lacking in faith by assuming that Hashem could not hear their whispered prayers.

In our overly stimulated environments that are saturated with technology and visual and audio prompts we rarely encounter a few solid moments of silence. As educators, I think it is highly worthwhile to ensure that the students get comfortable with the meditative silence and learn to suppress the urge to cough or chatter with a neighbor during this special moment of tefilla. I have done this exercise in nature (at night) and students have responded positively to questions of awakening feelings of spirituality. Can you do this in a school classroom/synagogue? In an effort to encourage developing spiritual focus I think it is worth testing the respect your students have for the silent moments and possibility of listening to their own hearts.