Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Comfort of Prayer

This Shabbat, like every Shabbat that follows Tisha B’Av, is known as Shabbat Nachamu - the Shabbat of comfort. The Haftorah we read brings comfort to the Jewish people as it tells of the prophecy of Yishiahu, as he assures the city of Jerusalem that the suffering will end and the ultimate redemption will come.


We also read Parshat Va’etchanan each year on this special Shabbat. At first glance, however, it would seem that this parsha is not very comforting at all. In fact, Rav Binny Friedman points out that the parsha begins on a seemingly pessimistic note when Moshe Rabbeinu is denied his request to enter the land of Israel. If the prayer of greatest Jewish leader of all times seems to have been rejected by Hashem, then what hope to we have in hoping that Hashem will answer our prayers? If Hashem did not accept Moshe’s repentance and override the decree made against him, is there any hope that Hashem will accept our teshuva (repentance) either as individuals or as a nation?


So we must ask: in what way does this move us as we head into the month of repentance and atonement in the coming weeks?


In order to answer this question, we must have a better understanding of what the Jewish perspective on prayer is. Perhaps we can start with an analysis of one of the most fundamental parts of our daily tefila that we find in this week’s parsha. It is the first prayer the Jewish child learns, and it is the sentence uttered by all Jews in their most trying moments:


Shema Yisrael Hashem Elokeinu Hashem echad

Hear Israel Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One


Though we say these words when we are speaking to Hashem in our daily prayers, the words themselves are not addressed to Hashem. We need not remind Hashem that He is our G-d and that He is the singular most powerful force in this world. With these words we remind ourselves of these truths each time we recite them.


When we pray, we do not tell Hashem anything that He does not already know. No matter how great an advocate we are for ourselves, there is nothing new that we can tell Hashem to convince Him to change His mind. In fact, if we believe that Hashem knows and does what is best for us, I am not so sure we even want to change His mind!


What then are we doing when we sing Hashem’s praises and make our requests from him in our tefilot? And how do we accomplish this? The answer can be found in the following words that we often associate with the weeks surrounding Elul and leading into Rosh Hashana:


Teshuva, Tefila and Tzedaka mavirin et roah ha’gezera

Repentance, Prayer and Charity can override an evil decree


Tefila, which we find in the center of this axiomatic sentence, has been said to be a synthesis of the two concepts of teshuva and tzedaka. By understanding the essence of teshuva and tzedaka, we gain a new perspective on the purpose of prayer as understood from our parsha.


Teshuva (repentance) requires that we admit where we have erred and dec

lare that we will work to change for the better in the future. Through this process of introspection we are changed for the better. Tefila, Rav Hirsch notes, come from the root word, pillel, which means to judge. He explains further that the word le’hitpallel (to pray) in the reflexive form (as if to say, it is being done to the one who is praying), meaning to judge oneself.


Like the teshuva process, tefila is about introspection and self-evaluation – it is about taking a pause from our busy lives to reassess what direction we are heading in and whether we want to continue in that path or perhaps make a change. I think that this is at least one way that tefila functions as a comfort for us – in knowing that no matter how far we may strayed from the path we want to be, as an individual or as a nation, we always have the ability to stop and talk to Hashem, and ultimately to return to Him in this ongoing teshuva process of prayer.



Tzedaka (charity) is ultimately about recognizing that all that we are given in this world is a gift from Hashem – and we are therefore moved to both literally and figuratively “pay it forward” by sharing it with those around us – using the gifts that granted are granted to us in positive ways. So too when we pray, we are reminded that Hashem is the ultimate provider, healer, and redeemer for us as individuals and as a nation. When we are reminded of this and accept this as true, we have changed ourselves for the better – and it is then that we merit that Hashem will provide, heal and redeem us.


On a second level then, tefila serves as a source of comfort for us by reminding us that while our efforts are important, in fact, necessary for us to be successful, Hashem is watching over us and providing us with our every need (as we bless Hashem each morning saying, sheasani kol tzorchi - you have given me all that I need).


Perhaps this understanding of prayer as a means to change ourselves, rather than Hashem, explains the strange reaction of Moshe Rabbeinu after Hashem does not seem to answer his prayer to enter the land - we might expect that Moshe would be angry, frustrated, or sad at the very least. Instead we find that Moshe moves on quickly, telling the people right then that Yehoshua will replace him as the leader as they enter the land. Moshe understood that if Hashem stood by this decree that he should not enter the land, this would be best both for him and the Jewish people.


We learn from Moshe that the “success” of our prayer is not measured necessarily by whether Hashem grants us our request or not. A person can and should feel close to Hashem after they have a meaningful prayer, regardless of what the response may be - because we know that after a meaningful prayer, we are changed for the better, we are closer to Hashem for it.


It is also worth noting that, upon closer examination of the text, we see that Moshe's prayer was answered at least to some degree. Moshe asked to cross the waters and to see the Land, while G-d refused the first part of the request, He granted the second: Hashem instructs Mosher, "Ascend to the top of the summit and see it with your eyes; for you shall not cross this Jordan."


So often we focus on what we do not have and what Hashem has not given us, and we neglect to see that Hashem has answered our prayers. Even when we cannot get exactly what we thought we wanted, when we open our eyes, we realize that Hashem has listened and heard prayers.


We do not have to tell Hashem to listen to our prayers – but perhaps we must be reminded to hear our own voices and listen to the words we are saying. I think this is why Shema Yisrael has become the quintessential prayer of the Jewish soul – because ultimately prayer is both about speaking to Hashem, but our words must penetrate our own minds as we say them.


As we transition from the weeks of mourning, we are meant to channel the emotions we felt and be moved to repent-both as individuals and as a nation. As we do make this transition into a time of repentance, may we take comfort in knowing that Hashem always hears our prayers. May we learn to hear the messages and meanings of our own prayers and internalize the fundamental lessons we learn about prayer from our parsha - and through this may we strengthen ourselves in our prayers and merit that they will soon be answered! Shabbat Shalom, Taly