A Direct Method for 5773

Rabbi Dr. Elie Munk, author of The World of Prayer, states the following in his preface:

Vague philosophizing about the nature and idea, origin and form of expression of the prayers is of little help.  A more direct method of approach is required.  Whoever has succeeded in penetrating the external shell of the formal prayer to its innermost core will comprehend the world of thought and feeling hidden deep in its central sphere. 

As we begin a new year, may this be the focus of our efforts, research and prayers - to find clear, direct pedagogical techniques that will create greater access to the innermost core of tefilla.

A Magnet to the Torah?

A reader of the blog pointed out an interesting shul phenomenon, one that I think I was narrowly not paying much attention to before.

Whenever the Torah is taken out of the ark- have you noticed that some people move forward to the front of the shul to kiss the Torah?  In some shuls the children swarm the front.  In other shuls people wait for the Torah to pass by their aisle and might extend a fringe or a hand.  All of these are gestures to show how much we cherish the written Torah and that it is a central in our lives.

But have noticed that sometimes, people are just busy talking or to tired to move down the aisle or out of their way to acknowledge the Torah?  Isn't this part of the element of neilla on Yom Kippur, that the ark is opened and that we try to stand at attention at this most holy and propitious time?  Perhaps I am feeling frustrated by the gentleman who I shared a minyan with last week and sat through neilla reading Primo Levi's Survival in Aushwitz but I have since noticed many other shuls were there is a malaise about the removal or returning of the scrolls and I think this is sad.  Further I think there is a certain correlation between shuls with less active physical movement at the opening of the ark sequence to the shul's overall tefilla satisfaction level.  As a parent and educator I very much feel that the small actions and  messages we send are expressions of core values - and one of the core values of Judaism (debate however you may on how to interpret it) is the Torah.  "It is a a Tree of Life for those hold fast to it and all who cling to it find happiness"  - so, what can we do to motivate our fellow congregants to start holding fast and magnetizing their tefilla?

I can tell you this, the shuls that I do visit where davners are moving to the Torah have been places that I would rank as some of my best tefilla experiences.

I Can't Believe I Missed This...

Actually, I heard about the "worldwide call to prayer for Mosiach" happening around at 5 PM on September 23rd, but I thought it was a joke.  Turns out, I missed 2 million Jews davening at the same time:

 
I am hungry for more information about the organizers, All Jews As One and can't find much.  Much of the writing smacks of something that I wouldn't want to associate with, see some of the comments on facebook (and I am all for Jewish unity).  Sadly I think these efforts do not really help the professional development of davening for young people - as Mosiach hasn't come since the event and the (just) 35 word prayer is all about Mosiach only. Don't get me wrong, I am for brevity, but this is just overly simplistic fluff. Isn't this notion stealing from the idea of what Yom Kippur is all about?  Most Jews around the world stopping to pause, not at the same moment, but on the same day, united in fast and tefillot?  (full disclosure: I couldn't make it to the end of the video - it was that bad for me).

I am open to other perspectives on this initiative, especially from someone who participated.  But please get back to me before Mosiach comes, because once s/he does arrive, I am pretty confident that I will be shutting down this blog.

Fast.Pray.Change.Tomorrow

A nice quote H/T to @jefferygoldberg and Erica Brown:  "Rabbi Nahman: 'If you are not going to be better tomorrow than today, then what need have you for tomorrow?'  Fast. Pray. Change. Tomorrow."

High Holiday Seats at One Shul

Have you been to One Shul - no fees or dues necessary?   I am fascinated that people connect this way to one another to pray.  While I may like the challenge of summarizing my tefilla into 140 characters or less, I think I am just old fashioned and need a seat in IRL shul.  Hoping that wherever you pray, that it goes well for you.

Who is to Blame?

Please read this Jewcy.com article by Devora Meyers Shuls Out for Rosh Hashana.

There is much to this piece, in its honest expression of a common experience for many shul goers, regardless of the style of synagogue they attend.  But while I like Meyers' question, "So what’s the difference between the intellectual discussion that excites me and the prayers that bore me to distraction?" I think her answer is meek.

Let me be clear that I think her answer is correct for her, argued well, and again I add the adjective honest; However, I am starkly reminded of Harold Kushner approach, "What's lacking in you?"

Are we now so self absorbed that we have to always have it our way and that we cannot strive for a communal forum? (do not mistake this as quest for an objective or uniform religious forum).  I get the frustration for prayer in general but for the 3-timers (those that come only three times a year: 2 for Rosh Hashana and once for Yom Kippur) can we justify the opt out?  Great, your bored, the service is long and its not your style - what else can the institutions, teachers, leaders and rabbis do to engage those that don't want what's being served in most tefillot...... It is a good question to ask for every classroom teacher - how do we help nurture not only individuals, but help those individuals share and join into a community of learners and shearers?

I want to end with a quote from Rav Kook from Ein Eyah:

In order to lead human beings on the path of continual improvement, G-d implanted within the human soul the incessant drive to always seek more..."

Here's hoping you have a positive shul experience this week.  

Guest Blog: Making out with G-d

The following article was published at The Times of Israel by blogger Sarah Zadok who is a Jewish educator, a childbirth professional and a freelance writer.  This is a great reflection on how and when can approach your own personal tefilla.  

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I learned early on that prayer is primarily about communication. l learned this first from watching Harold and Maude, then years later in a Torah class. For the most part my M.O. as far as prayer is concerned has been to simply talk to G-d, kind of like I would to a girlfriend – only slightly more reverent.  Also with a bunch of young’uns in tow it has been way more convenient to dial-up wireless, than to show up in a house of prayer for a word.

I’m big on the shoot-from-the-hip, “G-d, please let them make the bus” “Bring her fever down now” and “Wow, thanks for that” kind of pray-er. Kind of Rabbi Nachman style, only shorter and not in a forest.

It’s not that I never pick up a prayer book. I do. It’s just that long, organized prayers, like the High Holiday variety tend to rouse the spiritual ADD in me. I got to thinking about that this past Rosh Hashana, while I was at home busy with all manner of domestic preparation. I could have been at shul with my husband and kids, but I was futzing with honey dishes instead, and as I did, a curious little notion surfaced…

I’m not not doing the Rosh Hashana service because I have to be busy with food prep… I’m not praying because I don’t want to.

Prayer is an intimate experience, like kissing on the lips and I’m not always in the mood to take that step with G-d.

Sometimes I want to sit with my arms folded hard in front of my chest, and wait for Him to woo me.

After the rocket fire we’ve endured, the soldiers and citizens we’ve lost to terror, the tears, blood and sweat that we endure – daily – to live in our land…  illness, pain, death, both personal and global… I want Him outside my bedroom window with a boom box playing Peter Gabriel.

So instead of a deep soul-baring session, I pulled a slip-out-the-back-Jack, spiritual version of “I’ve got a headache” and got busy peeling pomegranates and arranging fresh dates on the table.

It’s a justified stance, but as I watched the candles flicker beyond the table, I allowed my eyes to adjust to a wider lens, and a more generous perspective began to take hold.

In spite of my slapdash indifference towards G-d– my candles are still lit, the table is set, and I’m still thinking about Him. We have a relationship.

I don’t always appreciate the way He pulls rank. I have very little understanding about why He does what He does, but in spite of that, I’m in this for the long haul. I continue to ask impossible questions, and push for impossible answers, and search for meaning in the hot mess. I’ve learned enough from my earthly relationships to know that there is more to making it work than what I want, what I deserve and what I think I see.

Hey, it’s not always soft and fuzzy, or even screen-worthy, but it’s real, and it’s fertile ground for some steamy stuff.

You know how Jews attend Rosh Hashana and Yon Kippur services more than any other time in the year? (Ever heard of Purim people? Waaay more fun). That kind of attendance doesn’t happen because we’re looking for a soul-loofah, or because of the nostalgic melodies, or because Mom says “we have to.” That may be part of it, but mostly, we go because regardless of how disappointing our lover may be, we still have a basic human need for love and connection. It’s no small thing that after 5773 years, with all the legitimate reasons we have to be mad, and sad and broken, we (a lot of us… maybe even enough of us) still show up. 

We continue to dialog, even when we don’t want to.

That’s what lovers do – we push and pull at each others hearts until we feel something deep and honest.  That’s what a relationship is.

Even in our pain and grief, when it seems that there is very little to be grateful for… even when we’re mad at Him, He still turns out fabulous sunsets, really good mangos, and allows us to read self-indulgent op-eds if we so choose. When I’m really being honest with myself, I see that even when I don’t want Him to, He shows up all the time, arms wide open, ready to take me as I am.

And, at the end of each day, whatever my mood may be, I’d rather go to sleep at night giving G-d a lack-luster peck on the cheek than walk out of the house all together.