You've Got the Whole World in Your Hands

A man is driving in a downtown area of a large city, unable to find a parking place. He says, “Please, God, make a parking place appear. If You do this for me, I swear, I’ll keep kosher, I’ll observe the Shabbat, I’ll come to shul more often, I’ll be a better person, just show me an available parking place!” At that very moment, right before his eyes, the man sees an empty space. He looks up and says, “Never mind, I just found one.”

If only it were so simple. Thank God it isn’t.

Prayer is not about asking God to fulfill our every material need. Prayer is about having a connection with God.

Similarly, the best parents are the not those who give us everything we ask for; but those with whom we are still speaking; those with whom we still have a strong connection, who are vital to our existence.

In ancient times, sacrifice was the means of worshipping God, but the word for sacrifice is korban which means, “to draw us closer (to God).” That is the role of prayer; that must be the reason for us to be in the synagogue today—to feel God’s presence in our lives.

To pray as a Jew involves both the heart and the mind, the feeling and the word.

In his book on prayer, Quest for God, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel uses two stories to explain this dichotomy.

First there is the shepherd boy, who says each day: God, if only I had the honor of tending your sheep, I would so with great care, because I love you.

If only we could express ourselves like this shepherd boy. But even if we could, it would not be enough to form a lasting bond with God. For when the feeling wanes or disappears, so do the words.

Which is why Rabbi Heschel also tells the story of the watchmaker. Once, in a small town, the watchmaker passed away. No longer could people bring in their watches to be cleaned and repaired. As the months passed, the watches stopped telling the right time.

Half of the town put their useless watches in a drawer, frustrated at their inability to know the correct time. The other half of the people, despite the frustration, nonetheless kept winding their watches daily, wore their watches despite the inaccuracy, dusted them as best they could.

Years later, a new watchmaker arrived in town. The people lined up to bring their watches for repair.

After a few days, the watchmaker came out of his shop to make an announcement—the watches which were kept in drawers, forgotten, cannot be repaired. But the watches which were cared for daily can still be returned to working order.

Many of us have difficulty finding the proper inspiration with which to express our soul’s longing for God. So we say nothing. Others go through the motions of Jewish prayer, so that the words become routine in one’s mouth.

One day, the feeling will come. But only those who are adept at prayer will be able to combine word and feeling.

And here lies the beauty and excitement of our soon to arrive Siddur Tefillah l’Moshe. This new prayer book will enable the words of the Siddur to become your words.

In the synagogues of today, including our own, we are most sensitive to making sure that there is accessibility for all who wish to join us. That is why we have a door which is easy to open if you are in a wheelchair or otherwise not strong enough to pull it. That is why we have a ramp to the bimah, hearing enhancement devices, large print siddurim, etc. That is why one can hear the service via telephone, if you are unable to leave home.

It is with accessibility in mind that Siddur Tefillah l’Moshe has been created. It is not to overcome physical challenges—we already do that well. Rather this new siddur is intended to allow everyone to participate in prayer with confidence, even if you have formerly felt like more of a spectator.

A husband says to his wife: Why do you constantly watch the Food Channel? You don’t even cook. His wife responds: Why do you watch football?

You can be a participant, not merely a spectator, and the road to this transformation is Siddur Tefillah l’Moshe.

With our new siddur, you will know what to do—when to stand, sit or bow; when to pray silently and when to sing aloud; when to sing with the Cantor, when to respond to him.

When you look at the English translation, you will find words provided by our publisher, Joe Lewis, which are beautiful, meaningful and appropriately poetic.

If you don’t yet read Hebrew, you will be able to join together with the congregation in prayer and song, because every Hebrew word will also appear in English transliteration.

The only remaining barrier to being able to follow our service like a pro is when you have that feeling of “I just walked in and I don’t know what page we are on.” And here is the solution, which many of you already know—ask someone. And if you are asked—give the answer!

We are, and must continue to be, a congregation where we can talk to each other (not too much) and help each other, and ultimately pray and sing together with confidence.

Why so much fuss about the prayer book? One of my teachers once remarked: The siddur, not the Torah is the most significant Jewish book.

For example—while the Torah is our backbone, our beginning as a people, it the siddur which reflects the history of the Jewish people, and the siddur has grown with addition throughout the years, not the least of which are the prayers we say for the governments and soldiers of the US and Israel.

In the Torah, we speak of our patriarchs’ relationship with God. In the siddur we speak of Eloheinu . . . Elohei Avraham. My God is the same as Abraham’s God, but my relationship with God is unique, as is the relationship with God in every generation.

The siddur creates a bond between us and all Jews throughout history and throughout the world. Siddur Tefillah l’Moshe is not designed to move us away from traditional Jewish prayer, but rather to make that connection even stronger.

Cantor Klein, Mr. Ralph and Mr. Rabinovitz, with whom Cantor Berris and I davened together; Rabbi Lehrman, who brought the excellent Sabbath and Festival Prayer Book to our congregation—all of them of blessed memories, would be proud that we are creating in this siddur a means of bringing Congregation B’nai Moshe closer to Jewish tradition, and thereby ensuring that the tradition continues into the future.

As precious as is our Sefer Torah, and it is, not every member of the congregation gets to read from it, not everyone gets to hold it, but everyone of us will hold the new siddur in our very own hands.

A well known story, with many versions, is told of a king who wished to trick the town wise man, who had the answer for every question. The king held before the wise man a living bird. The king then enclosed the bird in his hands and asked the wise man, “Is the bird alive or dead?”

The wise man knew he could not answer correctly. If he said, “the bird is alive,” then the king would crush the bird in his hands. If he said, “the bird is dead,” then the king would open his hands and let the bird fly away.

Calmly, the wise man said to the king, “I don’t know if the bird is alive or dead, but I do know that the answer lies in your hands.”

The answer is in our hands. The siddur will be in our hands—for us to decide the life and death of our spirits, of our synagogue, of Jewish ritual.

Regarding the Torah we say: Etz chayim hi l’machazikim ba—it is a tree of life when you hold it tight! So, too, will the siddur be for us a tree of life, when it is in our hands.

Finally, we quote from the late Professor Louis Finkelstein, one of the chancellors of the Jewish Theological Seminary, who put it so well when he said: When I study Torah, God speaks to me. When I pray, I speak to God. The siddur brings out our most active role in our relationship with God.

The God talk might make you uncomfortable, and you are not alone. There once was a Jew who had become an atheist. He sent his daughter to a Catholic School, because of the outstanding secular education. One day she came home and began to talk about the Trinity. He sat his daughter down, and with a stern look on his face, he told her: Let me make this perfectly clear. There is only one God . . . and we don’t believe in Him.

Whatever your theology, even if your version of prayer is Shema Yisrael I deny Eloheinu, all would admit that prayer plays a vital role in our lives.

A story appeared in the newspapers a few years ago about Caroline Adams Miller, a motivational speaker and executive coach. In pursuit of happiness, she was instructed to do this exercise—Before going to sleep, think back over the day and recall three good things that happened and analyze why they occurred. At first skeptical, the Harvard trained professional thought that this simplistic exercise would be futile, but she found that, “The quality of my dreams has changed, I never have trouble falling asleep, and I do feel happier.” (Denver Post 11/27/06)—Rabbi Joel Schwartzman, commenting on this article, declares, reviewing the blessings in your life before going to bed: this is tefillah!

Rabbi Sam Chiel writes in one of his books about a woman who waits in line to see the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Shneerson. After several hours, she finally has her private audience with the Rebbe. He asks her, “So, nu, how are you?” She replies, “Thank God.” The Rebbe continues, “How is your family? Your health? Your income?” To every question, the woman replies, “Thank God.”

Finally, the Rebbe says, “So what would you like to pray for?” The woman replies, “I would like to pray that none of what I have disappears.”

The role of prayer is to express our gratitude for what we have, more than our desire for what we feel we are lacking.

Siddur Tefillah l’Moshe will help us all achieve this goal, and the others I have mentioned—to feel closer to one another, to our history and to God. I conclude with words from the siddur itself, which we recite every morning:

Ashrenu mah tov chelkeinu u’mah na’im goraleinu u’mah yafa yerushateinu. Ashrenu she’anachnu mashkimim u’ma’arivim erev vavoker v’omrim pa’amayim b’khol yom: Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad!

We are joyous! How good is our portion, how pleasant our fortune, how beautiful our heritage. We are joyous that we arise early each morning, and conclude each evening by saying: Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad; Hear O Israel the Lord our God the Lord is One.