We read a funny Midrash with Rav Daniel this week that tells the story of Rebbe Yochanan and his childhood friend, the Roman Emperor Antoninus, who disagreed with him about how much we should be allowed to pray every day. The Emperor asked the Rebbe, "Can't a person daven to Hashem in any and every moment of the day?" The Rebbe replied, "No way - G-d forbid! You wouldn't want to treat G-d's kingship casually or flippantly by davenning at any old time, would you?!?" The Emperor found the Rebbe's reply utterly unacceptable, and asked him to leave. The next day, the Rebbe came to the Emperor and addressed him as "My Esteemed Teacher!" After an hour passed, the Rebbe returned, hailing Antoninus as "O Mighty Emperor!" After another hour passed, he returned again, saluting: "Peace be unto you, The King!" "Enough!" cried Antinonus, finally. "Why are you treating my office so disrespectfully?!?" Rebbe Yochanan replied: "If you, a mere king of flesh and blood, feels that my incessant praise of you is disrespectful, how much MORE would G-d, the King of Kings feel this way if we were incessantly praising him every hour of the day!"
Of course, the Jerusalem Talmud tells us that G-d actually loves it when we constantly, continuously heap praises upon Him. Rebbe Nachman of Breslov seems to agree - he says that if a button on our shirt is missing, we should daven for Hashem to please send us a new button, because G-d won't answer your prayers unless you pray first. Indeed, there seems to be a certain logic in acknowledging G-d's omnipotence as much as possible by turning every available opportunity we receive into a tefilah - that way, we can learn to see G-d in every tiny detail of creation, to see how He's really in control of everything and can stop feeling so frustrated by our evident lack of control over our lives. But at what point does this constant flow of praise, petitioning and thanks become "kissing-up," "brown-nosing," or even worse, a total relinquishment of responsibility for ourselves and our actions? Doesn't a more focused, structured approach to prayer indeed seem to channel your intentionality more directly and more consciously than a moment-by-moment free-for-all?
There's a machloket (disagreement) in the Babylonian Talmud about how we learn that we should pray three times a day; one opinion says that our three forefathers (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) initiated this structure, and the other opinion says that the Sages established it to parallel the sacrificial services in the Holy Temple. The Ma'Ha'RaL of Prague says that these two opinions reflect two different approaches to the relationship between G-d and His creation; the first opinion sees G-d as the Originator and Source of all creation, because our forefathers, from whom our inspiration and knowledge of Hashem's ways flow, formulated the prayers; the second opinion sees G-d as the Endpoint and Destiny of all creation, because the services of ritual sacrifice, through which we are able to return and elevate the physicality of this world back up to G-d, are the origin of our prayers.
Of course, these two opinions do not contradict one another, because G-d is both the Source and the Endpoint of all creation. But when is it right to approach Him as the Source, and when does he want to be acknowledged as the Endpoint? When to focus and structure our prayers carefully towards G-d, and when to let go and experience receiving from Him? The answer lies somewhere in the tension created by knowing that on one hand, G-d controls every last fiber of our existence, and on the other hand, He gives us an essential stake in creating the reality of His world. Rav Gedalia Fleer once stated our situation very simply: the plain fact that we can never really know the answer to this ever-present paradox is what opens up the opportunity for us to act in this world at all.
Jerry Silverman
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Jerry Silverman is a former student of Yeshivat Bat Ayin. He is working in new media, designing and managing media projects. He lives in Riverdale, NY with his wife Sarah and their two children. |