What Davening is Not

8 Elul 5770


If it's looking like there's a theme to this year's posts, it's purely by coincidence. But it is important, I guess, to define basic concepts before going on to more difficult ideas.

Perhaps the most misunderstood concept in Judaism is Davening. Most people think of Davening as "Prayer." After all, that's how we've been translating it for decades. The problem is that the word "prayer" gives off the wrong connotations - in fact, almost pagan connotations.

Thinking of Davening as "Prayer" implies that you're begging God for something. And if you don't tell Him about it, you won't get it, because He won't know what you want. It's much better to pray in a minyan, because the more people storm the heavens with their grovelling, the more likely it is that God will listen. After all, He probably won't care about you all by yourself, but if enough people inform Him they want something, He might change His mind. And by the way, who in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks do you think you are, asking God for stuff? He's freaking G-o-d; if He wanted something to happen, He would do it. If He decided to make someone sick, what, just because you ask Him, He's going to change his mind? He already decided to make them sick! What are you trying to accomplish, begging God to heal this person?


And if I don't tell God about what I want - which, by the way, happens to be the exact same thing, three times a day, every day - I won't get it. Sure, I couldn't care less about having Jewish judges, or bringing the lineage of David back to the throne of Israel - but I'll throw it in there just for kicks, just to make sure God likes me and will listen to my pleading for a livelihood.

Sound familiar, right?

I bet you're feeling a little meek right now. Maybe a little red in the face. Because that's how most of us view davening. AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHY MOST OF US HATE IT. What, you want me to beg for stuff from a God Who won't end up telling me whether I'm going to get it or not? And what do I need half this stuff for? Of the nineteen brachos in Shemonah Esrei, how many do you actually relate to? Eight? Ten? Twelve max, and if you think it's more, you're lying to yourself.

Think about it. The above definition of Davening is ridiculous. God knows all. He is all-powerful. He doesn't need us to inform Him of our desires. He knows our innermost thoughts and feelings. In fact, the whole concept of prescribed prayer is ridiculous if you think of davening as begging. What, the rabbis need to script my prayer? I know what I need - what do I need to use a siddur for?

That last line is the key; remember it and we'll come back to it. By now you've probably realized that Davening is not Praying, and that God does not need to hear our tefillos to know what we want. But then, who are our tefillos for? What IS davening?

Regarding this most basic question, I was enlightened by Rav Binny Freidman and Rav David Aaron of Isralight and Orayta.

The Hebrew word for "to daven" is להתפלל. If you know a little about Hebrew grammar (and I don't, really), that word is in the reflexive form - hitpa'el. This is key - words in that hitpa'el form mean to do something to yourself. It is reflexive - the doer is doing an action to his or herself.

Now, the verb in question here is פלל. What does that word mean? Going back to the first time we see that word - Yaakov Avinu uses it when he is about to bless Yosef's sons in Parshas Vayechi. After twenty-two years of being apart, Yaakov says ראה פניך לא פללתי. I did not "pilel" to see your face. What does pilel mean?

Rashi defines "Pilel" as (using Artscroll Rashi English translation): My heart did not fill me to think the thought. The word "pilalti" denotes "thinking," like the verse, "produce an idea, do some thinking."

Therefore, the word "pilel" means to think. In reflexive tense, you do something to yourself, so the word "להתפלל" means "to think about yourself."

And, by now, the meaning of Davening should start to become clearer. If God doesn't need to know about what we want, because He is all-knowing, why are we saying it?

The answer is: of course God doesn't need to hear it. We need to hear it. This is what we should be doing when we pray - thinking about ourselves. Do I really want to see Yerushalayim and the Beis HaMikdash rebuilt? That is a seriously intraspective question. If the answer is no, why not? Do we care about having Jewish judges? If we don't, why not? And on and on and on. The Anshei Kneses HaGedolah set up nineteen brachos, nineteen basic spiritual tenets that we should think about every time we daven.

Finally we can begin to understand how some people take five, ten, even fifteen minutes to say Shemonah Esrei. They're not begging God with all their hearts - they're thinking about their own hearts and what they should want from God.

Since this is a difficult and perhaps provocative redefinition of Davening, I'll let you guys ask questions about anything I may have left out or left unexplained. Then I'll continue next week and hopefully answer those grey areas. Ask away!

Hatzlacha Raba!

The Elephant of Tisha B'Av

9 Av 5770

The big elephant in the room when it comes to Tisha B'Av is simply this:

Who friggin' cares?

We get it. There used to be a big building. In place of that hideous gold dome. The Temple. And every year we mourn the destruction of said Temple, the annihilation of a lot of people, the exile of our forefathers, yada yada yada.

How does this impact ME?

After all, I live a good life. I live a religious life. I love God, He loves me, I am frum, I am happy. Baruch Hashem. What do I need the friggin' Temple for?

This is the elephant in the room. We kind of go through the motions on Tisha B'Av - saying kinos, reading eicha, wearing uncomfortable shoes, not eating - but when it comes down to it, not very many people care that there's no animal sacrifice nowadays. We all think it - why should I care - but no one dares voice it, because that would make you a loser or an apikores or something.

But what is the answer to that question?

I'd love to hear what you have to say; and I daresay that it's an important issue that requires thought and discussion. But if you're in the mood not to think, and you want to hear what I think, then by all means, keep reading.

Being a Jew is hard. Keeping halacha is hard. Keeping a connection with the Ribono Shel Olam is hard. Feeling good about ourselves in a spiritual way is hard. You all experienced it during your shana alef, you experience it now, and you will experience it for the rest of your lives. It is increasingly difficult, every day it gets worse, to be a frum Jew in the modern world.

When we had the Beis HaMikdash, it was so much easier to connect to spirituality in this world. Think about it - every yontif, we didn't go to see Aunt Matilda in Monsey or Teaneck - you went to see GOD in the Beis HaMikdash (not literally, but you know what i mean). If you ever did an aveirah that you didn't know was assur (i.e. you did it b'shogeg) - like tying your shoelaces in a double-knot on shabbos - if you learned afterwards that it was assur, you brought a korban chatas to the Beis HaMikdash. I mean, I would've been there like every week with my shogeig aveiros! Or at least every other week.

Think about it. Three times a year, and probably many more, you visited with God in His House. How much more focused was the davening of that generation? How much more intense was their learning? If you were chilling on Ben Yehuda and you had a nisayon to touch or look at a girl, all you had to do was look at the skyline - the friggin' Beis HaMikdash towered over the city! Imagine if the Train Bridge that you can see from all of Yerushalayim, imagine if that Bridge reminded you of HKB"H (which it does, kind of, with a finger pointed at the sky). Spirituality would be so much easier. A connection with the Ribono Shel Olam would be so much more attainable. Deep down happiness - being happy with who you are; i.e. a soul and a guf - would be more readily accessible.

This is what we're mourning. Not some random building that burned down two thousand years ago. It's the loss of a lifestyle that was an amazing way to lightningrod (if I can use that as a verb) our connection to HKB"H. It's the fact that we lost the ability to connect to God in an easier/simpler/better way, and now we have to struggle and fight our way through the muck of this generation's challenges. Because life may be good for our guf, but it's pretty tough on our neshamah.

This Tisha B'Av, think about your own struggles. Think about how hard it is to connect to Hashem, how far away you are physically, mentally, and spiritually. And then resolve to get closer. Resolve to put in a little more effort. Because nowadays that's all we got. We can put our work in, and then it's up to HKB"H to take us the rest of the way. As you know I love quoting the gmara in Makkos, בדרך שאדם רוצה לילך מוליכין אותו. Down the path a person wants to go, that's where Hashem takes him. If we want to get closer to HKB"H, then He will help us get there.

May we all have a meaningful fast.