Making Prayer Meaningful

Do you think the words matter?

What do you think God is?

Who do you think prayer is meant to change?

You vs. God

Is prayer more for the individual or the community?

Private vs. Repetition

In the Hebrew language, the word "to pray" is lehitpalel. Interestingly, it is a reflexive verb -- something that you do to yourself. The root of the word, palal, means "to judge," rendering the actual translation of prayer as something more akin to self-evaluation. Therefore, when a person stands before God to communicate, she is taking stock of her capabilities, current level of spiritual consciousness and willingness to accept reality for what it truly is. The deeper notion is that we are willfully trying to integrate the inescapable fact that we are utterly dependent on the Creator.

Central to every statutory Jewish service is the Amidah, as we have seen. This can itself be seen as a meditational sequence. We begin in the first paragraph by reminding our Sovereign (and ourselves) of who we are: the descendants of God-fearing and God-loving ancestors, for whom God cared. We then remind ourselves of God’s powers over life and death (second blessing), then of God’s holiness and otherness (third blessing), before we present our requests, which vary depending on whether we are praying on an ordinary weekday, or on Shabbat or a festival. Finally, in the last three blessings, we ask that our prayers be received favorably, we offer our thanks for past and future benefits, and then, apparently as an after-thought, pray for peace.

The entire procedure (including bowing at certain points and taking three steps forwards at the beginning and backwards at the end) is based on how kings and queens should be approached and petitioned, in other words, on ancient royal protocol...

Alternatively (or perhaps, simultaneously), we may view the Amidah as a ladder “reaching up to heaven” (Genesis 28:12), a ladder whose goal, whose highest rung, is peace. Though the final paragraph is a prayer for peace for all Israel, we can use our ascent through the Amidah to symbolize our own quest for inner peace. Peace in the world becomes easier to achieve when we are at peace within ourselves. Our ascent through the divine realms within us helps us to realize that peace. The following midrash is a brief extract of a veritable paean of praise for peace and draws our attention to the prominence of this concept in our liturgy.

And we might do well to remember that in both Shacharit and Ma‘ariv, the Amidah follows on from the Shema and her blessings. Our recognition of the unity of all things spiritual and physical should lead to a deep feeling of inner peace and the desire to promote peace in the world.

Once in a tropical country, a certain splendid bird, more colourful than any that had ever been seen, was sighted at the top of the tallest tree. But the bird was perched so high that no single person could ever hope to reach it. When news of the bird reached the ears of the king, he ordered that a number of his subjects try to bring the bird to him. They were to stand on one another's shoulders until they could read the bird and bring it to the king. The king’s subjects assembled near the tree, but while they were standing balanced on one another's shoulders, some of those near the bottom decided to wander off. As soon as the first person moved, the entire chain collapsed, injuring several of them. The bird flew off and as for the people, they had doubly failed the king. For even greater than his desire to see the bird was his wish to see his people so closely joined to one another.

Put all your strength into the words,

Proceeding from letter to letter

with such concentration

that you lose awareness of your bodily self.

It will then seem that the letters themselves

are flowing into one another.

This uniting of the letters is one's greatest joy.

If joy is felt as two human bodies come together

how much greater must be the joy

of this union in spirit.

Do not think that the words of prayer

as you say them

go up to God.

It is not the words themselves that ascend;

it is rather the burning desire of your heart

that rises like smoke towards heaven.

If your prayer consists only of words and letters,

and does not contain your heart's desire -

how can it rise up to God?

Prayer is never repeated:

the quality of each day's prayer

is unlike that of any other.

This is the inner meaning of the Mishnah's words:

"One whose prayer is rigid

prays without supplication."

This can be seen even in the thoughts

that distract us from true prayer;

They too are different every day.

Each day and its prayer,

each day and its distractions -

until Messiah comes.

Rabbi Lionel Blue spoke to us under the chuppah, the wedding canopy, and told a story about a young couple riding in a crowded underground train (subway) in London. For half the journey, she was staring into his eyes saying "I love you, I love you" over and over again. For the other half, he was staring into her eyes saying exactly the same thing. For the other passengers, Lionel said, this was the most boring conversation imaginable! But for the young lovers, each "I love you" was laden with meaning. Lionel himself applied this tale to prayer... If the relationship with the divine (however we understand that) is important to us, if we are really into it with our entire being, the repetition not only doesn't matter, it acts as reinforcement!

Masculine-Biased Language Until now, the prayer book has expressed the spiritual yearnings of half the Jewish people, the men who were the writers, editors, and translators of a liturgy that was designed for use by men. Still, many of the prayers reflect human experience such as prayers for health, wisdom, forgiveness, and justice as well as praise and thanksgiving. Feminine imagery appears, for example, in the Hallel [Psalms 113-118], which speaks of barren women becoming mothers. It is difficult to determine whether the prayer reflects female yearnings or male priorities–the desire for progeny–which women internalize.

No matter how sensitive, these prayers, written from a male perspective, assume that women’s only priority is to fulfill her biological function–to bear children. These prayers are highly selective, reflecting a biblical perspective (male) that features the Matriarchs as revered female role models. The editors of our prayer books traditionally excluded prayers by other biblical women, such as Miriam and Deborah, which offer alternative role models.

Through the centuries, male editors of the prayer book stereotyped the role of women in the eyes of those at worship. The language of liturgy is also unrelievedly masculine, creating the overriding impression that worship is a male prerogative. Since services were traditionally conducted in Hebrew, which has no neuter gender, it was only natural that prayers, written and selected by men, would appear only in masculine form, further excluding women-whether or not intentionally. Translations in the vernacular such as English, which does have a neuter gender, were nevertheless couched in solely masculine terms, compounding the problem.

As Jews, who have suffered for centuries because of the stereotyped images that were used to exclude us from the mainstream of society, we are particularly sensitive to the way language is used to foster and perpetuate prejudice. Yet, when the question of masculine-biased language in liturgy is raised, the subject is often trivialized, the hostility hidden under the guise of humor. Women, themselves, sometimes object to suggested changes. They may be going through a process of denial, for the price of recognition may be too painful, or they may simply be unaware that change in language and liturgy is in good Jewish tradition.

In biblical days, even the names of revered Patriarchs and Matriarchs were changed when a radical change in character took place. Abram became Abraham when he received God’s blessing (Genesis 17:5). Sarai became Sarah as she became the mother of the Jewish people (Genesis 17:15). Jacob’s name was changed to Israel as a result of his transformation of character (Genesis 32:29). Religious equality for women signifies a similar change in status, necessitating inclusion in the language of liturgy and, thus, the elimination of sexist language.

The problem of masculine-biased language has been addressed on two levels. It has been relatively easy to reach a consensus on the need to change language referring to humanity. Resistance to the elimination of masculine imagery about God is much more pervasive, indicating the profound emotional impact of the language of prayer.

Some feminists view the traditional Hebrew liturgy–and English translations such as Rabbi [Jules] Harlow’s [in the book from which this article is taken]–as sexist. For them, the image of God as a male king, who sits on a throne and judges humanity, is alienating. Some of these feminists feel that adding feminine language–God as queen, God as mother–makes the concept of the divine inclusive, and this allows them to embrace Jewish prayer.

Other feminists, myself included, object to changing the Hebrew language that refers to God. The traditional Hebrew of the siddur [prayerbook] unites Jews everywhere. Although I, and other Jewish feminists, welcome changes in the English translations and though I welcome original prayers and new feminist rituals (alongside new understandings of Jewish women’s roles), I believe that public, communal Hebrew prayer should remain largely fixed.

As Rabbi Harlow argues, traditional Hebrew prayer, even today, is shared by Jews in all countries of the world. I pray with greatest intensity when the words are familiar and link me to earlier generations and to Jews in Israel and elsewhere.

I believe, too, that traditional conceptions of God include attributes that are neither masculine nor feminine; both women and men are wise, strong, merciful. For me, God transcends gender. I am uncomfortable with feminist rewriting of Hebrew language that addresses or refers to God. While changing references to the Jewish people, both to our ancestors and to Jews today, is–for me–a necessary change, changing the way we refer to God is, in my mind, not authentically Jewish. The Bible describes God using physical terms with masculine gender: Melekh or King, Adon or Lord. Yet, as Rabbi Harlow points out, the Bible also uses feminine imagery in referring to God.

None of these descriptions or images of God in the Bible imply God is either masculine or feminine. Some people would assign specific attributes to masculine or feminine aspects of God, but such narrow definitions tend to create and reinforce stereotypes that are misleading because of God’s unique and genderless nature. Tampering with the original Hebrew eliminates the nuances of the multi-dimensional meaning of God.

Praying is like playing jazz. The more you pray, the richer your prayer becomes. You can pray alone, but the exciting things happen with fellow pray-ers. It helps to know and trust the others, too (although you learn a lot when you pray with new people). Some services are traditional, others creative. Some synagogues are formal, others less so. The Jewish service is built around a set of spiritual themes. Sometimes we all pray in harmony, other times we each pray at our own rhythm, at our own volume. The siddur is a framework, like the page of notes in front of the jazz player. If you choose to use these words, know that if you read the prayers, you are not praying. One should try and reach a proper balance between the pray-er and the prayer, and between the pray-er and other pray-ers. Know that according to tradition, praying includes both music and silence. Try and relax from all tension. We all come to synagogue with mixed feelings. We are aware of these feelings in prayer - we do not try to escape from them. We let our feelings influence our prayers and our prayers influence our feelings. Most Jews walk into a 'prayer-session' totally unprepared. They don't know the music (the prayerbook), they haven't been trained into the musical (spiritual) system and they haven't practiced in ages. They expect a 'high' without knowing the inner logic of Jewish prayer. If you don't know the siddur well, start by trying to find words you feel comfortable with. We can find in almost every word in the siddur associations from the Bible, Talmud, Midrash and Kabbala. The more you are tuned into these connections, the richer the prayer can be. The 'band' meets (at least) every week. It could well be that the words or melodies are not familiar to you. Remember, any discipline is difficult at the beginning; practice enables you to feel free.

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