Honesty in Tefillah on Yom HaShoah - Thursday Kavvanah

Today, Yom HaShoah, the one day of the year on which we specifically recall the horrors of the Nazi genocide, is unquestionably the hardest day of the year for tefillah / prayer.  Chanting the Psalms of the morning service, which speak of God's delivering us from danger and frustrating the designs of our enemies, I find it difficult to achieve a sense of kavvanah / intention that reflects the mood of the day.  Even venerable Ashrei, Psalm 145, which Jews recite three times each day, includes the following:

שׁוֹמֵר יְהוָה, אֶת-כָּל-אֹהֲבָיו;    וְאֵת כָּל-הָרְשָׁעִים יַשְׁמִיד

Shomer Adonai et kol ohavav, ve'et kol haresha'im yashmid.
God guards all who love Him, and destroys all wickedness.  (Psalm 145:20)

If this were objectively "true," then how could Hitler and his murderous partners have killed so many of our people, 2,000 times the number that Al Qaeda managed on 9/11?  Shouldn't God have interceded after the first righteous person was martyred?  Or even after the first million?

Theology being an inexact science, there are no good answers here.  And tefillah too, on this day when liturgy fails us, falls flat.

Perhaps we should remember the following: the words of prayer reflect an ideal, a vision of what could be.  But this is a deeply fractured world, a universe that has never functioned according to the Neo-Platonic perfection that some in our tradition have cited.  The language of tefillah remains unfulfilled until we ourselves make this broken world whole once again.

And so, to draw my attention away from the empty words of the Psalmist, I found myself repeating the next to last verse of the book of Eikhah / Lamentations, the same words that we said when we put the Torah away this morning, the same way that we repeat it on Tish'ah Be'Av / the Ninth of Av, when we conclude the reading of that book:

הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ יְהוָה אֵלֶיךָ וְנָשׁוּבָה, חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵינוּ כְּקֶדֶם

Hashiveinu Adonai elekha venashuvah, hadesh yameinu keqedem.
Help us turn to You, Adonai, and we shall return.  Renew our lives as in days of old. (Lamentations 5:21)

~
Rabbi Seth Adelson

My Laptop Doesn't Love Me Back! - Thursday Kavvanah, 1/26/2012

In anticipation of today's e-waste collection by the Town of North Hempstead, Judy and I decided late last night to clear out our old laptops.  So we fired 'em up to delete important items, and after a while they were ready to go.  Judy closed her erstwhile machine for the last time and sighed wistfully as she said goodbye.


How ironic, thought I.  Many of us communicate more with our devices than we do with each other, and so it makes sense for us to feel a sense of loss when an aging computer is put out to pasture.


But these are only tools; they are no more capable of loving or being loved than a hammer or an electric drill.  They (usually) do what we tell them to do, no more or less.  


By contrast, the bonds that we make with people are much more complicated and much deeper.  And all the more so with God; the modern Jewish philosopher Martin Buber describes the relationship with God as being the most intimate, the only partner upon which we place no conditions.


We will not be sitting shiv'ah (the seven day Jewish mourning period) for our discarded computers.  But as I reconsider my relationships with my current devices, I am grateful for the people in my life, and all the more so with the Unconditional.  We read three times a day in the Ashrei prayer:


קָרוב ה' לְכָל קרְאָיו. לְכל אֲשֶׁר יִקְרָאֻהוּ בֶאֱמֶת
Qarov Adonai lekhol qore'av, lekhol asher yiqra'uhu be'emet
God is near to all who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him with integrity. (Psalm 145:18)


However it is that God can be described as being near, I am fairly certain that God is nearer to me than my laptop.




~
Rabbi Seth Adelson

Tuesday Kavvanah, 6/28/11 - Completing God's Vision

In Psalm 145, usually known by its introductory moniker, Ashrei, we find a familiar line that is as much praise of God as it ia a challenge to humanity. It's the line that begins with the letter peh (this psalm is an aleph-betical acrostic):

פּוֹתֵחַ אֶת-יָדֶךָ; וּמַשְׂבִּיעַ לְכָל-חַי רָצוֹן.
Poteah et yadekha, umasbi'a lekhol hai ratzon.
You open Your hand, and satisfy the needs of every living thing. (Psalm 145:16)

Like many tefillot, this line should be understood as more of an idealized vision of what could be, rather than reflecting reality. As we all know, not everybody gets what they need in this world, food or otherwise. There are hungry, needy people among both the faithful and the non-believers.

Some have the custom when reciting this line of opening their hands, palms facing upwards, to physically illustrate this tefillah. Or perhaps it's a way of indicating our part of the vision, as if to say, my hands are open; please fill me and all the rest of humanity to satisfaction.

Regardless, the reality on the ground is that this vision is incomplete - God cannot fulfill the expressed desire alone; we must partner with God to make it happen.

Tuesday Morning Kavvanah, 3/15/2011 - The Limits of Creation

In Psalm 145, recited three times daily as the "Ashrei" prayer, we read the following:

מַלְכוּתְךָ, מַלְכוּת כָּל-עֹלָמִים; וּמֶמְשַׁלְתְּךָ, בְּכָל-דּוֹר וָדֹר.
Malkhutekha malkhut kol olamim, umemshaltekha bekhol dor vador.
Your kingdom is an eternal kingdom, and your rule is for all generations.

Although we as humans are given explicit permission by God (in Bereshit) not only to till and tend Creation, but also to have dominion over it, there are limits. Perhaps the lesson to be drawn from the nuclear meltdown in Japan is that there are limits to what we may explore. God will always have sovereignty over the world, and maybe we should leave the tremendous energy potential of the atomic nucleus untouched; this is the eternal kingdom of God.

Tuesday Morning Kavvanah, 1/25/2011 - Being Near to God

We all have different reasons for coming to the synagogue; some do it for a holy, quiet moment, others to socialize, still others to remember loved ones who have departed.

In my estimation, a great reason to come to synagogue for services is found in the Ashrei prayer, recited three times daily (Psalm 145:18):

קָרוֹב ה', לְכָל-קֹרְאָיו - לְכֹל אֲשֶׁר יִקְרָאֻהוּ בֶאֱמֶת.

Qarov Adonai lekhol qore'av, lekhol asher yiqra'uhu ve'emet.

God is near to all who call; to all who call to God in truth.

We gather for services because it is a chance to be near to God, an opportunity to approach holiness. Something unique happens when we gather in a minyan (quorum of 10 people) together, but also when we call on God together; that something is the nearness of God's presence. Join us.