Make My Feet Firm Through You

You are not alone. At times, it may feel as if you are making choices and confronted by pain with no one there to ease the burden, or share the load. Certainly, the road is the long one. No one can tell where it may end. Yet, you are not alone. God is with you, at your side.

In the journey of life you will get lost. Disoriented.  It is all right. It is not a failure. This is how we learn, when confronted by challenges. To stop along the road and ask for directions is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of maturity. When we ask, we learn.

Others have been this way before. They too, had a companion. God knows the route. His Presence comforted them in their time of sorrow and pain.  The same Force will uphold you.  Allow God to help. Trust Him and His power. And do not forget to thank him.

A Story

Rabbi Yochanan said, “A man was walking along the road late at night. Suddenly, his lamp was blown out by a great gust of cold wind. He lit it again but it went out again. Finally he said to himself, “Why should I kill myself over this lantern? It is obvious that I will never be able to make the lamp stay lit. I will sit down right here by the road and wait for sunlight. When it comes I will try again.”

So it is with the Lord God. When it was His will to have B’nai Israel released from the evil grip of Pharaoh, he sent Moses, our teacher. And when we were exiled to the distant reaches of Babylon, He sent his servant Zurubabel. Mordecai saved us from Haman (may his name be blotted out for all time, Amen.)

So it was with the Maccabees and with every evil pall that has been cast over the Jewish people. The Holy One, blessed be He, heard the moans of His people. Enduring terrible pain the people turned to the rabbis who combed the ancient and holy texts. They found this prayer:

Lord, free us no longer through the intervention of man; we are weary of the endless cycle of enslavement, freedom and enslavement again.  Be our Redeemer, Lord, not a mortal man. Let no person lighten us but lighten us Yourself. As it is written, “For with You is the fountain of life; in Your light we see light.

a prayer

Avinu, grow our love for You daily.

Avinu, help us to love each other unconditionally.

Avinu, allow was to respect one another in an empowering way.

Avinu, teach as to how to complete each other, building us into one unit you design.

Avinu, rid our hearts of grudges or bitterness towards one another; teach us to forgive readily and extend grace continually.

 Av HaRachamim, encourage each other to achieve the dreams You give us individually and jointly.

 Avinu Sh’ba’shamayim, keep us humble, placing each others needs ahead of her own.

 Avinu Sh’ba’shamayim, Guard our hearts from selfishness and self-centered desires.

 Av HaRachamim, protect our marriages from outside distractions and from outside influences.

 Avinu, make our commitment deeper than our emotions, stronger then the seasons of change and the trials which will come our way.

Imitatio Hominus

We make God in our own image.  Ask any child.  They will tell you that God has brown hair, a long beard and sits on a throne.  Kids conceive of God in the only way they can; they look at the universe and draw parallels.  The Ultimate Master probably resembles some powerful patriarchal figure, at once benevolent and stern.

As we grow from children into adults our thinking becomes more abstract.  We know that the Almighty is not physical.  The Holy One is neither make nor female: He is unknowable in any human way.  Our conception morphs from a secure portrait of God to a more fluid, ethereal idea.

As we grow, more mature faith teaches that God is beyond our senses.  Yet, there is another sense which we all posses but do often access.  It goes beyond description, even though everyone knows what it is.

Abraham Joshua Heschel told the tale of the shoemaker.  The old cobbler had a problem with his morning prayers.  If he stopped to daven at Synagogue his morning’s work would be delayed.  Worse, if the shoemaker spent time at the Shul mind would not be on God but getting through his prayers quickly.  On the other hand, as a God-fearing Jew, he knew his responsibility.

With trepidation he brought his problem to God.  “Ribbono Shel Olam, is it enough when I raise my hammer that I sigh?”

Some of the holiest prayers are nothing more than a sigh.  In fact, the greatest prayers originate in the moment when we feel most keenly.  From deep within comes a great wellspring of feeling.  The Hasidim used to say that there are times when a sigh can break the whole universe.  All the prayers in the Siddur are for one purpose; to ignite the internal soul fire.  In other words, we pray in order to express our experience of life, the way we feel it.  A sigh then is a response to feeling life. And that is why a sigh can be so holy. 

To feel life is the entryway to prayer – in fact it is a prerequisite.  Sighing is a great prayer because it expresses wonder.

Prayer is an answer to life.  What then is the question?  It is your name.  The realization that we are called by the One.  It is an expression of profound proportions.  A sigh, a word uttered with genuine conviction, is a prayer for it is a response to God

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.

The Secret to God

He came to me with a complaint.  His face was open and needy.  “I want to be spiritual but do not know how.  I really want to learn.  Teach me!  I watch you daven and I know you are talking to God.  I see it in your face.  I want that too.  How do I get there?"

Rebbe Nachman knew.  Long ago he said, “When I speak with someone I want to hear the highest words from his mouth.”

When someone would speak to him Rebbe Nachman would intensely listen to each uttered word.  They were intentional.  Nachman knew that in each dialogue there were hidden gems that had the potential of changing his life.  Imagine such a thought! 

It was not what the person said but what Rebbe Nachman heard that made the ultimate difference.  Every word contained the kernels of personal revelation.  His sole task was to listen.

“This,” I said to my complainant, “is the principle of true davenning.  It is all about listening, being awake and aware and, of course, truthful with our words.”

The words we hear and the ones we speak can have a dramatic effect on us spiritually.  If we are looking for voices of growth and learning they will appear almost everywhere.

This is the primary principle of davenning: Listen.  Take the words to hear.  Utter each word with intentionality (kavannah).  This is the whole secret to becoming a spiritual being.