Prayer is not a Spectator Sport

You know, sports enthusiasts can be a little crazy. They believe that if they're not in their special chair, wearing their lucky tee shirt when the game begins, their team will lose. I sometimes wonder if they feel the same way about shul.

A man came to his rabbi before Rosh Hashanah: "Rabbi I don’t know what to do. I haven’t missed a game all season. The Yankees are playing the Red Sox in Fenway Park on Rosh HaShanah . How can I miss that game?"

"Don’t worry, Mr. Shapiro," the rabbi said, "That's why we have dvr's."

"Thank goodness," said Shapiro, "You mean I can record services?"

Mr. Shapiro was not unlike many individuals attending services today all around the world.  He knew he had to be present, but found services if not very difficult at least not as engaging as a sports event where he went as a spectator.  The reason for his feelings with regard to prayer is because he expected it to be a spectator sport and as such it was not very interesting at all.

Not everyone takes on the attitude of Mr. Shapiro.  Actually, there are two basic approaches to prayer that are taking place in this room today.  One is passive. Individuals are listening to the words recited or chanted by our Chazan as the individual who is expected to follow all the rules and scripted expectations of a High Holy Day service.  The other approach is active.  Individuals are offering their own personal and spontaneous prayers to G-d as they are moved by the holiness of the time.

Prayer is complex.  If I were to ask you what is the purpose of prayer you might answer:  to make us aware of our connection to G-d; to allow us to show gratitude for life’s blessings; to provide us with a sense of community; to give us an opportunity to make requests; to allow a time for self-reflection; to reaffirm that we are not alone; to give structure to our day; or to ask for forgiveness for our shortcomings.

The one thing we know is that the experience of prayer from a Talmudic perspective is to come from our heart, to be meant.  The word for that is KAVANNAH.  Prayer that is spontaneous, intimate, and heartfelt, does not have to be time bound.  Yet the prayer experience that we are most familiar with in the synagogue setting is ordered, comes at a specific time, and has individuals who lead us. It is based on the communal sacrifice structure of Temple days.  Actually, the Rabbis say that prayer has to be both structured and intentional.  We not only have to meet communal expectations, but we have to add in our own prayers.

The mystics in Judaism see prayer a bit differently.  For the mystic, prayer is the means by which we effect G-d.  Prayer is not about you nor me, from this perspective, but about the effect we have on the Divine.  This perspective is a bit different than the one that we often conceive of when we discuss the word “Prayer.”  Kavannah is important but not personal experience.  Prayer for the mystic is not about expressing the things about which we worry.  Prayer is about moving G-d so G-d’s divine energies will flow into our world via our prayers.  In essence, what we do in this sphere of the world, creates a reaction in the upper worlds that in turn flows into our world.  Within this framework, we have great power because our prayers and Torah based actions can create an effect in the Divine cosmos.

Why do the kabbalists, the Jewish mystics, believe we can move G-d through our prayers?  It is because each and every one of has a soul that provides us with divine energy that then flows from our mouths when we pray.  In effect, our souls are always praying, always trying to quiet our animal souls that reside in our physical bodies.  So prayer from this point of view is bigger than just offering gratitude and requests.  It is a process by which we can be transformed because we have an effect upon G-d. Our prayers need not be in Hebrew if that does not express our innermost thoughts and feelings.  But we must get into the habit of spending time every day on our personal prayers and meditation.  If we fix a regular time of the day, when nothing else will interfere, then our prayers will become a means of coming closer to G-d.  The soul that resides within us is spoken of as “nothing less than a breath of G-d.”  It is this soul which is “closer to G-d than anything else.”  As Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan wrote, “It is this soul that makes man unique in creation.  It is closer and more meaningful to G-d than any star or galaxy.  In a spiritual sense, we may say that a single human soul is even greater than the entire physical universe.” 

This view of prayer basically says that G-d needs us and that we can have an effect on G-d’s presence in our world.  When we stop praying, trying to connect, trying to live in a way that draws G-d into our lives, then those divine energies stop flowing in our direction. 

There is a famous Hasidic story about the sage who came home from the synagogue one day and found his nine-year-old daughter crying bitterly.  He asked her what was wrong, and she told him, between sobs, that she and her friends had been playing hide-and-seek and when it was her turn to hide, she hid so well that they had given up on finding her and went off to play another game.  She waited and waited for them to find her, and finally after about an hour, had come out to find herself all alone.  As the sage comforted her, he mused to himself, “I wonder if this is how G-d feels.  He threatened that if we abandoned His ways, He would hide His face from us and deprive us of His presence.  I wonder if G-d has managed to hide so successfully that we have given up looking for Him and have gone off in other directions.  And I wonder if G-d feels lonely and abandoned.”

Our task today and every day is to develop our souls as we pursue truth, meaning, and fellowship.  As we pray for life, asking to be inscribed in the Book of Life, may we also pray to enhance the quality of life for ourselves, others in our lives, and for all on Earth.

L’shanah Tovah Tikateyvu.