Torah and Us

The problem is us. Not them. Us.

We get in the way of ourselves. We become hopelessly tangled up in the mess we have created. Lives become shattered as wrong words pierce the soul. Feelings are hurt and forever bruised with an offhand remark that was never intended to wound.

We later wonder, “How did it happen?”  “What was the catalyst for such pain?”

”Before you can find God, you must lose yourself,”said the Baal Shem Tov.

How do we find ourselves if we do not know that were lost in the first place? 

For the Jew the beginning and the end can be found in Torah. Genesis details the deliberate actions of the Lord and crafting the universe. Generation after generation wrestles with identity, truth and looks for peace.  We see in their faces the sorrow and the burdens that they carry as we retell and relive the Text year after year. The disappointments run deep. And still God hopes in us.

“Being full of ourselves leaves little room for the Divine Presence to dwell. Egotism is inherently anti-spiritual. Arrogance can be seen as a form of self worship that comes dangerously close to idolatry,”wrote Aaron Z. 

And so we move into the book of Exodus where God reveals himself, His will and His faith in us. God never abandons hope in what we can become.  That is why He shared His most precious possession, Torah, with us.  It is our guidebook to be less prideful, more humble, more inwardly loving and outwardly caring.  With clearer vision from its sacred words we see life for what it can be, not just what it is.

Moving forward into the book of Leviticus we learn how to talk to God and listen more intently to one another.  It teaches us how to reach into our inner core of being and be open, vulnerable and honest.  We learn the value of sacrifice.

In the fourth book of the Torah, Numbers, we learn about our worth. This book teaches the incalculable value of our people. Every person is holy and our nation is holy. You will find idea this stated in our prayers over and again. One Hasidic Sage commented, “Man is the language of God.”   

In the final book of the Torah, Deuteronomy we learn the power of loss and love.   A wise person once said, “If everyone of us was told we had only five minutes to live, the telephone lines would be hopelessly jammed because all of us would be rushing to tell someone how much we really loved them.”   Deuteronomy is Moses’ love song to his nation as he is about to die.  The book is filled with deep wisdom reminding us of the precious knowledge contained in these books.

With Torah we are rich.  We are one.

The Un-Taboo Life

                                  

Psychoanalyst Carl Jung wrote, “We wish to make our lives simple, certain and smooth and for that reason problems are taboo.”

I suspect that this is the reason why most of us respond to, “How are you?” with “Fine,” unthinking.   I usually want to ask, “Are you really fine?” because I know it is rarely true.  Most times we are a hodgepodge of mixed feelings ranging from euphoria to anger.  We are “fine” because we do not want to “own” – much less advertise - the things that trouble us.

Prayer, tefila (Hebrew) is complex.  Tefila is difficult because it asks us to tell the truth.  That is never simple or easy.

When a Bar or Bat Mitzvah comes to the bima I tell them: “As you stand before this Holy Ark you have G-d’s attention.  You have taken your place with your people.  You have learned Torah and shown yourself capable.  Now is your opportunity to say what you want before HaKadosh Baruch Hu.  Ask G-d for what you need, not what you want.”

I never ask a young man or woman have requested of G-d but I know what I have told them to do is not easy.

Tefila is not rote.  It is not simply repeating what others have said before us.  Sure, that is where it begins but then scores of sages have told us, “You must add an element to your prayers that comes just from your heart.”

The Baal Shem Tov taught, “When wood burns, it is only the smoke that rises; the grosser elements are left below.  With prayer, it is the same thing; only the sincere feelings ascend to heaven.”

Problems are a great clarifier.  When we acknowledge what gives us pleasure along with what pains us we are honest.  And when we integrate that combination of difficulties and blessings, living becomes more integrated, more whole.

We do not always feel safe with others when revealing our feelings.  That is, when someone asks, how we are, “okay” is an acceptable response even if we are not okay. But, at the very least, we ought to acknowledge within our self the truth.  This is where tefila comes in.  It asks us to be fiercely honest with praising G-d for what we have and, at the bare minimum, concede what is missing.

Reb Hirsch Melech Dinuber once turned to the front page of his siddur, placed on the reading desk and stated, “Almighty G-d, I do not know what prayer to offer You.  Here is the whole prayer book; select whichever prayer pleases You best.”

Knowing oneself is not a simple task.  Prayer is not easy because it involves being fully aware of your feelings and accepting them.  Yet, once we have accomplished this task we will have grown immeasurably.

Jews pray three times a day probably because we need every opportunity to pry open our hearts to see what lies within.

Suggestion: Try opening your heart fully.  You may find it to be the ultimate liberation.

Real Prayer

Prayer is not easy.  Real prayer can only come from a deep wellspring of feeling within.   Words are the vehicle of prayer but like any speech between people it can be sated with meaning or vapid. 

When we stand in synagogue or at our kitchen table and review the words in the siddur they are empty, black splotches on white paper.  It is only our yearning that breathes life into the letters.  Sometimes a certain prayer will bring us to an expansive awareness while other times that same prayer will have little meaning.  It all starts with the pray-er, us.

“Startle us, O God

Startle us with the wild improbability of what we say we believe.

Startle us with the incredible beauty and goodness of the affirmations of this place,

And our being in it this morning.” – John M Buchanan

Simply feeling wonder is a great impetus in relating to God.  Expressing awe is the kernel that births a sense of godliness.  That is why the ancient ones used to say, “You are the prayer.”  It is not in the book, not in the words; it is you.  The intentional words of praise that we utter become powerful utterances that rival the prayers of greatest tzaddikim of time.  We do not have to seek out inspirational women and men of renown to experience the sublime.

The Baal Shem Tov once said, Imagine a man whose business propels him through a maze of streets and across the marketplace through the long day.  He almost forgets that there is a Maker of the world.

Only when he realizes that it is time for Minha, the afternoon prayer, does he stop to remember that he must daven.

Then, from the depths of his heart, he sighs.  In that moment he is full of regret that he has spent the full day on vain, idle matters.  He moves into a side street, stands still and prays.  God holds him very dear and his prayer pierces the firmament.

Prayer is many things but the highest prayer is simple awe.

God

The key to understanding ourselves lies within our children.  To look at them is to gain insight.  After all, they grow to embody the sensibilities and outlook that we possess, even if we do not acknowledge them.  This is one reason why our children have problems with God.  We do too.

‘God’ is one of those -- well, you know -- words that it is difficult to use unless we are swearing or giving birth.  That is not to say that we do not believe in God:  most Americans do have firm belief in God.  They even pray.  Occasionally.

Far more difficult is developing a sense of comfort with the idea of God.  One colleague has gone so far as to say that until a couple discusses belief in God they are not truly intimate.  Only when such a sensitive issue is shared without feeling embarrassed can people be said to be truly honest with each other.  Think of it.  There is truth here.

Children are receptacles for what spills over from our lives into theirs.  Our beliefs have a profound impact in forming their inner core values.  Feeling shy about God means they will have to infer what our true sentiments are.  Is it not disturbing that so many young Jews turn away from God and religion?  They get a sense that God is more mysterious and dangerous than any other taboo.

English only compounds the problem.  Christians have little difficulty in expressing their values in religious terms.  Jews, on the other hand, would rather worm their way out of saying things like, “God loves you.”  In Hebrew, it feels far less dangerous to utter.  The only problem is:  Nobody understands what they are saying.  You have heard the phrase, “Our Father Who Art in Heaven”?  Jewish words.  Comes from “Avinu Sh’Bashamayim”.  Or ”God loves you?”  We say it before the Shma every day.  We call it “Ahava Rabba”.

 A key factor in coming to terms with God is developing a comfort level with words.  I often urge people to speak aloud to God when praying from the heart.  It can be an awesome experience.  Most important is to find our deep-set belief and nourish it.

The Baal Shem Tov once said:  A young man wanted to learn the art of becoming a blacksmith.  He went to an older man seeking to become his apprentice.  Learning from his teacher, the boy was a quick study; he learned all the skills of the trade.  Going out on his own, however, the young man soon failed.  He returned to his teacher and asked what he was doing wrong.  The elder replied:  “You have all the information, all the tools, and you’ve mastered the techniques.  What remains is learn to kindle the spark.”