Rosh Hashanah I 2022 at Congregation Agudas Achim
How to connect to prayer, regardless of your beliefs about God
Rabbi Talya Weisbard Shalem
A recent New York Times guest essay by University of Michigan law and philosophy professor Scott Hershovitz, entitled “How to pray to the God you don’t believe in,” contains the following anecdote:
“Our family recently switched synagogues. At the old one, the service was mostly in Hebrew, and I don’t speak much Hebrew. I know how to say all the prayers; I just don’t know what most of them mean. So at synagogue, I would sing along and let the words wash over me. I liked that.
At the new synagogue, we sing a lot of the same songs and say a lot of the same prayers. But we say many more of them in English. And I find that almost intolerable. It turns out, I like my religion inscrutable.
I just don’t believe the stories that we tell. And hearing them in English forces me to confront that, over and over again.”
This story is quite telling. It can be hard to relate to the liturgy, especially when it’s offered in plain English.
As I have been preparing for these High Holiday services with Janet Encarnacion, I have been struggling with how to craft services that will work best for this specific community, for the very real and human people sitting here today that I have just started to get to know. What should be the balance of Hebrew versus English in our services? Cantorial chanting versus congregational singing? Does reading the high holidays prayers aloud in English make them more or less accessible, given how challenging many of the themes are theologically for us as Reconstructionists? How many poems can I include without pushing services too long for anyone to be able to sustain attention for?
As you may know, I devoted a lot of time over the summer to one on ones, to get to know my new flock better. (If you haven’t already had a chance to spend some time with me online or in person, I will be opening up my calendar again after the holidays, in November, to more individual sessions). One theme I kept hearing over and over was people telling me “I am not into services, because I don’t believe in God, or because I am not Jewish. . .” People worried that it would be hypocritical to come here to services and say the words in the prayer-book if they didn’t believe them, or agree with them.
I have a sneaking suspicion that many of the people I spoke with, are imagining that the people who do come to services regularly, must therefore believe in God and mean the words of the prayers literally as they say them. I do not think this is necessarily true, having spoken to many members here, and many more people over the sixteen years I’ve been a rabbi. I have found that people have a huge range of experiences while attending prayer services.
Some people know the prayers by heart and it is comforting to hear or sing them. Some people enjoy having a chance to come together to sing, where no one is judged for their singing voice and it is not a performance but a chance to be together and feel the joy and express gratitude. Some people have a favorite image or reading (or tune) that they look forward to coming across each time they come. Some use the time at services just to get a break from the daily running around-ness of life, to slow down, and breathe. Some use the time to take an inventory of themselves and re-align for the coming week (or year). Some come to see friends or connect with community. Some come primarily for the oneg.
Prayers are a major part of our community’s activities- we meet far more regularly to pray together than for any other reason. For that reason, I would like to work with the community to make our prayer services feel accessible and welcoming for everyone here.
I want to be crystal clear here. I am not personally judging anyone. I do not think anyone “needs” to pray, or pray more. I do think it is affirmatively good for people to find ways to connect in community, to take time regularly for self-reflection, for slowing down, for self-care, and more, and that attending services offers a pathway to many of these goals.
I do not think there is anything wrong with the way we have been holding services here so far. But I want to make the case to the larger group gathered here today that all are welcome, whatever your beliefs, questions, or concerns. And also, that we are all a part of the Jewish story, in good company with the many rabbis and theologians throughout history, who have consistently struggled with the idea of taking the prayers literally, and suggested various metaphorical answers, or written their own prayers or poems to counterbalance those that are already written down in our prayer book.
* * *
One of my teachers and mentors at the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College, Rabbi Jacob Staub, wrote an essay entitled “How Can Reconstructionists Pray?”
In it he explains that Reconstructionists generally “do not believe in a God who is supernatural, a God who intervenes in nature…” and asks on behalf of many of us “If I don’t believe that God literally hears my prayers, and if I don’t believe that God responds to prayerful wishes, why do I bother to open up a siddur?”
Jacob offers several reasons that someone “who does not believe that God hears their prayers nor answers their petitions” might choose to pray, including:
1) Spiritual discipline – he encourages people to develop the skill of having a spiritual sense. “Focusing regularly on our sacred encounters helps us to notice them as they occur.”
2) Meditation – “the opportunity to slow down to remember what has deeper meaning beyond our daily distractions.”
3) Group connection – “It is a real treat to be connected to a group, all of whom are seeking together.”
4) Celebration –“few experiences transport us beyond ourselves [more] than that of group singing.”
5) Group support – “life is filled with disappointment, illness, and tragedy… recovery is enhanced when we experience the support of a caring group.”
6) Rededication to principles – “It’s easy … to lose sight of who you are and what you stand for. Praying draws us out of ourselves and helps to restore the larger picture.”
7) Acknowledgment of need – “we have less control than we think and it is good to acknowledge our vulnerability. Prayer allows us to ask for help, admitting that we need help, that we are frightened or overwhelmed or desperate.”
Jacob then gives a few examples of how he applies his Reconstructionist frame to specific prayers. He talks about the Modim section of the Amidah where we are thankful for the miracles and wonders that happen every day, and talks about one might use this prayer to pause to appreciate the wonders of daily life, feeling thankful for love in his family and the bright sun outside, and the chance to solve challenges at work and find healing interpersonally. He talks about the morning blessings Birkot HaShachar, where we thank God for making the blind to see. While rejecting this statement in a literal sense, he lists several reasons one’s vision might be blocked – carelessness, anger, lacking insight, being blinded by prejudice, and how each of these can be opportunities for growth and increased understanding if one puts forth the effort.
* * *
As I look over Jacob’s list of reasons for prayer, here’s where I would place myself:
—I experience moments of awe in nature. I am especially thinking of Bryce Canyon right now, which is so strikingly beautiful and different from anywhere else I’ve ever seen, or where my daily life leads me.
—I appreciate stopping to notice my blessings at regular moments in time, such as when I am about to begin a meal, or a service, or put my child to bed and my emotional rollercoaster 12 year old snuggles into me and tells me he loves me. Jewish prayers help ground me and remind to take a moment to notice and acknowledge these moments.
—In moments of difficulty in my life, I find it meaningful to look around and notice the helpers. I do not think God causes any of these challenges – a death, a serious fight with a friend or family member, a cancer diagnosis etc. But I can feel stirrings of holiness or divinity in the support I receive from friends to handle these situations, and from my own openness to my vulnerability and growth.
How does liturgy relate to all of this? Prayers encourage me to pause and be thankful, to notice the moments of awe. Services make me take a break. They give me a supported space to think my own thoughts. Knowing that everyone around me is also saying the Amidah or their own prayers from their hearts gives me that extra oomph I need to hide inside my tallit and get lost in my own thoughts.
I really like that blend of private space within community – it does not work nearly as well for me to sit at home and pray or meditate on my own, and indeed I have never had a personal home based prayer practice other than singing along with audio tracks of the prayers in my car on occasion.
When I am at services and I have a chance to stop to consider my life,
my actions,
my previous week,
my previous year,
I can step out of the go-go-go and truly listen to the still small voice inside me telling me what is right. I can summon the energy or courage to take the actions I need to take.
I hope that my sharing some of my own experience, as well as Jacob’s demarcation of reasons for prayer, as well our three congregational speakers, have given you all a range off models for how you might be able to find your own way into the world of Jewish prayer. I have one final offering for you, which is a beautiful poem by contemporary mystic poet Chelan Harkin, from her book Susceptible to Light.
You don’t have to believe in God
but please collapse in wonder
as regularly as you can
try and let your knowledge
be side swiped by awe
and let beauty be so persuasive
you find yourself willing
to lay your opinions at her feet.
Darling, you don’t have to believe in God
but please pray
for your own sake
great prayers of thanks
for the mountains, the great rivers
the roundness of the moon
just because they’re here at all
and that you get to know them
and let prayer bubble up in you
as a natural thing
like song in a bird.
You don’t have to have
a spiritual path
but do run
the most sensitive
part of your soul
over the soft curves
of this world
with as much tenderness
as you can find in yourself
and let her edgeless ways
inspire you to discover more
just find a way
that makes you want to yield
yourself
that you may be more open
to letting beauty fully
into your arms
and feel some sacred flame
inside of you that yearns toward
learning how to build a bigger
fire of love in your heart
You don’t have to believe in God
but get quiet enough to remember
we really don’t know a damn thing
about any of it
and if you can, feel a reverence to be part
of This Great Something
whatever you want to call it
that is so much bigger
and so far beyond
the rooftops of all
our knowing
—Chelan Harkin, Susceptible to Light
Thank you.
