Prayer

THe Mitzva of Prayer

     Our discussion regarding the philosophy of Halakha as it relates to prayer must begin with the following question: Does Halakha govern the topic of prayer? We all know, of course, that many halakhot pertain to prayer, but it is not at all clear that there is a biblical obligation to pray. According to most Rishonim, the mitzva to pray is not a Torah law, but only a rabbinic obligation. The leading proponent of the view that the duty of prayer is indeed biblically prescribed is Rambam:

 

There is a positive precept from the Torah to pray daily, as it is stated: "And you shall serve the Lord, your God" (Shemot 23:25). [The Sages] learned by tradition that this service is prayer, as it is stated: "And to serve Him with all your heart" (Devarim 11:13), regarding which the Sages said: "What is service of the heart? Prayer." The number of prayers is not prescribed in the Torah; no form of prayer is prescribed in the Torah; nor does the Torah prescribe a fixed time for prayer. (Rambam, Hilkhot Tefila 1:1)

 

Ramban disagrees with Rambam, arguing that the duty to pray is not a Torah obligation:

 

Surely the entire matter of prayer is not an obligation at all. Rather, it is an aspect of the attribute of mercy of the Creator, may He be blessed, that He hears and responds whenever we call unto Him. (Ramban, strictures to Rambam's Sefer ha-Mitzvot, positive precept 5)

 

According to Rambam, the prayer required by Torah law is far less defined and fixed than the prayer with which we are familiar today: there is a mitzva to pray once daily, at no set time, with no fixed formula. Ramban goes even further, arguing that prayer is totally unconnected to the world of Halakha. There is no obligation to pray; prayer is a spontaneous act initiated by man, rather than a duty imposed upon him from above.

 

     As we are well aware, this tension accompanies our prayers at all times. On the one hand, it is good that prayer is a clear and fixed obligation, for were it not so – truth be told – how many of us would actually pray? On the other hand, establishing prayer as an obligation is very problematic, for it suppresses the spontaneity of turning to God, and turns prayer into a rote practice, instead of genuine supplication.

 

     Our attempt to justify the position of Ramban notwithstanding, the view that there is no Torah obligation to pray leads to a serious conceptual difficulty. Every meaningful act in our spiritual world has a fixed place in Halakha; never is there concern that this detracts in any way from the spontaneity of its performance. It is for this reason that Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik labeled Rambam "the redeemer of prayer."[1] Ramban reduced the difficulty somewhat when he recognized that in certain situations the duty to pray is in fact a Torah obligation:

 

That we should pray to Him in times of trouble, and that our eyes and hearts should turn to him like the eyes of slaves to the hands of their masters, as it is stated: "And if you go to war in your land against the enemy that oppresses you, then you shall blow an alarm with the trumpets: and you shall be remembered before the Lord your God" (Bamidbar 10:9) There is a mitzva to plead fervently with God through prayer and teru'a (shofar blasts) whenever the community is faced with great distress… For there is mitzva to affirm in moments of distress our belief that the Holy One listens to prayers and intervenes to grant aid. (Ramban, strictures to Rambam's Sefer ha-Mitzvot, positive precept 5)

 

Ramban is consistent: the mitzva of prayer is not a fixed and routine obligation, but rather a mitzva that falls upon man in times of stress and trouble, directing his afflicted heart to God. Man is not being coerced to pray; rather, he is being directed to spread out his troubles before God. Ramban derives this mitzva from the obligation to sound the trumpets before God in times of war. This is undoubtedly an expansion – an ingenious one at that! – of a mitzva that at first glance appears to be a rather technical obligation. This step had already been taken by Rambam, who was the first to argue that the mitzva of blowing the trumpets gives expression to a special obligation to pray in times of great distress:

 

There is a positive precept from the Torah to cry out and sound the trumpets whenever trouble befalls the community. As it is stated: "Against the enemy that oppresses you, then you shall blow an alarm with the trumpets." That is to say, cry out in prayer and sound an alarm against whatever is oppressing you, be it famine, pestilence, locusts, or the like.

This procedure is one of the roads to repentance, for as the community cries out in prayer and sounds an alarm when overtaken by trouble, everyone is bound to realize that evil has come upon them as a consequence of their own evil deeds, as it is written: "Your iniquities have turned away [these things], etc." (Yirmiya 5:25), and that their repentance will cause the trouble to be removed from them. (Rambam, Hilkhot Ta'aniyot 1:1-2)

 

Rambam recognized that there is a special mitzva of prayer in times of trouble. This special mitzva bears a twofold message: 1) Prayer is not meant to be a monotonous muttering of a text, but rather supplication that gives voice to genuine human distress. 2) When a person is beset with troubles, he must confront them in a spiritual manner, and derive from his unfortunate situation as much benefit as he can with respect to his service of God. In other words, the mitzva of prayer in times of great distress informs us about the nature of prayer and about the way man should confront his troubles.

 

     Rabbi Soloveitchik put forward a daring proposal regarding Rambam's position on the mitzva of prayer:

 

The views of Maimonides and Nachmanides can be reconciled. Both regarded prayer as meaningful only if it is derived from a sense of "tzara" [=distress]. They differ in their understanding of the word. Maimonides regarded daily life itself as being existentially in straits, inducing in the sensitive person feelings of despair, a brooding sense of life's meaninglessness, absurdity, lack of fulfillment. It is persistent "tzara," which exists "bekhol yom," daily. The word "tzara" connotes more than external trouble… Certainly, the Psalmist's cry, "Min hama'amakim karati Yah," "Out of my straits, I have called upon the Lord" (Tehilim 118:5), refers to an inner, rather than an externally induced, state of constriction and oppression.

Out of this sense of discomfiture prayer emerges. Offered in comfort and security, prayer is a paradox, modern methods of suburban worship and plush synagogues notwithstanding. The desire for proximity of wife and children at services comes from a need for security and comfort. Real prayer is derived from loneliness, helplessness, and a sense of dependence. Thus, while Nachmanides dealt only with surface crisis – "tzarot tzibbur," public distress, Maimonides regarded all life as a "depth crisis," a "tzarat yachid." (Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Reflections of the Rav, pp. 80-81)

 

Rabbi Soloveitchik proposes that Rambam agrees with Ramban that what obligates man to pray is the sense of distress. According to Rambam, however, every day is a time of distress: internal trouble, discomfiture of the soul. Rabbi Soloveitchik understands that the defining characteristic of prayer is crying out of stress. Thus, he establishes two principles: 1) Prayer must stem from identification and agitation, as described above. 2) Prayer must emerge from a sense of distress, rather than from a feeling of comfort. Rabbi Soloveitchik expresses a veiled criticism of "progressive" synagogues, insisting that it is not by chance that the traditional synagogue bars comfortable, pleasant, and happy family prayer. Prayer is not a social pastime, but rather the penetrating outcry of the individual in isolation.

 

service of the heart

 

     Prayer is given a unique halakhic designation: "service of the heart."

 

"To love the Lord, your God, and to serve Him with all your heart" (Devarim 11:13). Which service is in the heart? Say: This is prayer. (Ta'anit 2a)

 

Let us examine what Rambam says in his Sefer ha-Mitzvot:

 

The fifth precept is that we have been commanded to serve Him… Even though this commandment is also one of the general commandments, as we have explained in Root 4, it has specific contents, as it commands prayer. In the words of Sifrei: "'And to serve Him' – this is prayer." And [the Sages] also said: "'And to serve Him' – this is [Torah] study." (Rambam, Sefer ha-Mitzvot, positive precept 5)

 

Rambam does not relate to the Baraita cited in tractate Ta'anit and in Sifrei merely as a technical derivation. He explains that the fifth positive precept is to serve God. This is a general mitzva, but it manifests itself concretely in the duty of prayer. That is to say, the mitzva of prayer is the fullest and most perfect embodiment of the mitzva of serving God, which realizes itself in the performance of all the mitzvot. Prayer is the climax and pinnacle of the service of God. It is interesting to note that Rambam does not omit the continuation of the Sifrei passage, which assigns similar status to Torah study: "'And to serve Him' – this is [Torah] study."

 

     Rabbi Soloveitchik was the first to distinguish between the "act of a mitzva" and the "fulfillment of a mitzva." There are many mitzvot which have emotional and conceptual content not only on the level of the rationales for the mitzvot, but even on the purely halakhic level itself. These mitzvot involve a certain physical act, "the act of the mitzvah," but that act embodies a certain emotional state, which constitutes the true fulfillment of the mitzva. Rabbi Soloveitchik argues that Rambam often mentions the act of the mitzva in the body of his code, but in the introductory headings he mentions the fulfillment of the mitzva. Here too we see that in the body of his code Rambam speaks of "the mitzva to pray daily," whereas in the heading to the laws of prayer he formulates the law differently:

 

To serve God every day through prayer. (Rambam, heading to Hilkhot Tefila).

 

The act of praying gives concrete expression to the true fulfillment of prayer – serving God.

 

Standing before god

 

     According to Halakha, man enters a different existential state when he engages in prayer. This is how Rambam defines this special state:

 

Correct posture, how so? When standing in prayer, the feet should be in line; the eyes lowered as if one were looking towards the ground; while the heart should be uplifted as if one were in heaven. (Rambam, Hilkhot Tefila 5:4).

 

A person standing in prayer is supposed to feel "as if he were in Heaven." Prayer is standing before God. The special state of a man engaged in prayer is given various halakhic expressions. For example, the Gemara states that at the conclusion of the Amida prayer a person must bow down and take leave of God, first to the right and then to the left. The Gemara discusses whether this refers to the right of the person praying or the right of God before whom he is standing:

 

A person engaged in prayer must step backwards three paces, and then take leave … In the name of Shemaya they said that he must take leave first to the right and then to the left… Rava saw Abaye taking leave first to the right. He said to him: Do you think this means to your right? I meant to your left, which is the right of God. (Yoma 53b)

 

Rashi explains:

 

To your left – which is the right of the Holy One, blessed be He, for a person standing in prayer sees himself as if the Shekhina is facing him, as it is stated: "I have set the Lord always before me" (Tehilim 16:8). (Rashi, ad loc., s.v. lisemol)

 

According to this, Rava explains that a person must first bow down to his left, which is the right of God, who, as it were, is standing before him.

 

     The Gemara in tractate Berakhot 24b-25a states that one must be more stringent about covering one's private parts for prayer than for the recitation of Shema. Rashi on the spot accounts for the difference:

 

For prayer, however, a person must present himself as if he were standing before the king and stand in dread. The Shema, on the other hand, he does not recite before the king. (Rashi, Berakhot 25a, s.v. aval)

 

During prayer, a person is in a special state – he "stands before the king." The nature of prayer as standing before God finds expression in additional halakhot. The Gemara in tractate Eruvin 64a discusses the prayer of a drunkard:

 

Rava bar Rav Huna said: An inebriated person should not pray, but if he prayed, his prayer is valid. A drunkard should not pray, and if he prayed, his prayer is considered an abomination… How so an inebriated person, and how so a drunk?  An inebriated person – anyone who is able to speak before the king; a drunkard – anyone who is unable to speak before the king. (Eruvin 64a)

 

One might understand that this is merely a local marker used to distinguish between an inebriated person and a drunkard. Ramban, however, understands that the determining factor – the ability to speak before the king – stems from the essential definition of prayer:

 

But as for an inebriated person and a drunkard, it appears to me that blessings are not included in this stringency, for the Sages only mentioned prayer. But the Shema, and certainly a blessing, they may recite and fulfill thereby their obligation. For the reason regarding prayer is that additional intent is needed, for he is like someone speaking before the king. And we find in all places that regarding intent, the law applying to prayer is more stringent than that applying to the recitation of Shema. As it is stated throughout the tractate regarding one whose mind is not settled, and one who returns from a journey on the road, and one who is distressed, that they all read the Shema, and recite the Grace after meals, and all the blessings. Regarding prayer, however, since he is unable to speak before the king, he must not pray. (Ramban, Berakhot 22a, s.v. aval)

 

It stands to reason that it was from this passage that Rashi drew his definition of prayer as "standing before the king." A drunkard who is unable to stand before the king – his prayer is an abomination even after the fact, for the essence of prayer is standing before the king, the king of kings, and a drunkard is unable to do so. The Rishonim connect other differences between shema and prayer to this essential characteristic of prayer:

 

Rav Chisda would curse [layit] a person who would search after water at the time of Shema. The meaning of "layit" is curse. Rather, he should clean his hands with sand or a stone, and that suffices. As it is said: "I wash my hands in cleanlines" (Tehilim 26:5) – in anything that cleans, it not being written "in water." This applies only to the recitation of Shema, but as for prayer, where he speaks to the Holy One, blessed be He, he must search for water. (Sefer Mitzvot ha-Gadol, positive precept 18)

 

This definition of standing before God is significant not only with respect to the objective conditions that permit prayer. In one of his most famous halakhic novellae, Rabbi Chayyim Soloveitchik applies this idea of standing before God to the subjective level as well:

 

It appears that there are two types of concentration regarding prayer. First, concentration on the meaning of the words. This is based on the law of "kavana" [=intention]. And second, that one should concentrate on the fact that he is standing before God, as [Rambam] explains in chapter 4 [of the laws of prayer]: "What is concentration? He should free his heart from all [extraneous] thoughts, and see himself as if he were standing before the Divine presence." It seems that this type of concentration does not stem from the law of "kavana," but rather from the essence of the act of prayer. If his heart is not free [from thoughts] and he does not see himself as if he were standing before God and praying, this is not an act of prayer. He is in the category of mit'asek – unintentional behavior – which is not regarded as an act. This [type of] concentration is, therefore, indispensable for the entire prayer [=and not only the first blessing]. (Rabbi Chayyim Soloveitchik, Chiddushei ha-Grach, Hilkhot Tefila 4:1)

Rabbi Chayyim argues that regarding prayer there are three levels of concentration and intention: 1) Intention to fulfill the obligation of prayer, similar to the intention required during the performance of all the mitzvot. 2) Concentration on the meaning of the words, which is indispensable only in the first blessing. 3) Conscious awareness that he is standing before God, without which his petition is not regarded as prayer. This awareness is indispensable in all the blessings. Rabbi Chayyim's view is fully supported by the words of Rambam himself.

 

     We have seen that prayer has special significance as "service of the heart," and we have explained Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik's position that uttering the words constitutes the act of the mitzva, but the mitzva is only fulfilled through service of the heart. We see here the halakha that flows from this idea: the mitzva cannot be fulfilled without proper concentration, which requires not only an understanding of the words, but also the spiritual sense of standing before God. It is this awareness that brings us to pour out our hearts to God and cry out to Him.

 

content of prayer

 

     Prayer has specific content. Rambam rules that while by Torah law prayer has no fixed wording, there are specific biblically ordained themes which prayer must include:

 

The obligation in this precept is that every person should daily offer up supplication and prayer; first uttering praises of God, then, with humble supplication and petition ask for all that he needs, and finally offer praise and thanksgiving to God for the benefits already bestowed upon him in rich measure, each person according to his ability. (Rambam, Hilkhot Tefila 1:2)

 

According to Rambam, the order of our Amida prayer is the order of prayer required by Torah law: praise followed by petition, followed by praise and thanksgiving. The focus of prayer, as it was established by Chazal, is the middle section: petition. The great majority of the blessings are petitions for the fulfillment of our needs, spiritual needs as well as simple material needs. The emphasis that is placed upon needs and requests raises two problems: egoism and materialism. Rabbi Soloveitchik understands that the nature of Jewish prayer reflects one of the principal foundations of our entire outlook:

 

As we have explained, prayer also requires praise and thanksgiving: nevertheless, the vitality and power of prayer lies in petition. Halakha is interested in psychosomatic man, in his actual body. It is not pleased by an ecstatic separation of the soul from the body during prayer… He cannot escape his material chains and petty needs, and any attempt to assign him such a task – his gain will be outweighed by his loss. Halakha deals with human beings dwelling in darkness and the shadow of death… Ordinary man is commanded to pray for the sick in his household, for his wine that turned sour, for his grain that was stricken. (Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, "Ra'ayonot al ha-Tefila," Ish ha-Halakha – Galui ve-Nistar, p. 265)[2]

 

Rabbi Soloveitchik argues in many places that anyone who attempts to sever the true servant of God from the real world is making two mistakes: 1) Since man is generally averse to giving up his material pursuits, the attempt to sever him from the real world will only result in removing his day-to-day activities from the supervision of religion. This constitutes Rabbi Soloveitchik's major critique of Christianity. 2) God does not want man to be unconnected to this world. He wants man to lead a normal human life in the context of which he serves his Creator.

 

     It for these two reasons that Rabbi Soloveitchik views the centrality of petition in our prayer as an absolutely desirable feature: When man engages in prayer, he approaches God with all of his true worries, his troubles, his requests and his needs. Only in that manner can he truly serve God with his entire person.

 

The atmosphere of prayer

 

     What is the spiritual atmosphere that must accompany prayer? Let us sharpen the focus of our question: Prayer, or at least ideal prayer, is commonly viewed as an outburst of man's longing for God, as an expression of his zeal and ardor in face of the Divine presence. But is this the only feeling that is supposed to accompany a person engaged in prayer – excitement and nothing else? In our lecture on the mitzva of rejoicing on a festival, we saw that Rabbi Soloveitchik argued that the mitzva of rejoicing on a festival stems from man's encounter with the Divine. Standing before God leads to joy. It seems that this applies to prayer as well. Standing before God, however, can also give rise to other feelings – awe, fear, honor from a distance. Chazal emphasized the experience that must accompany a person engaged in prayer:

 

Mishna: One should only rise to pray amid an attitude of reverence.

Gemara: From where is this derived? Rabbi Elazar said: For Scripture says: "And she was bitter of spirit" (I Shemuel 1:10) … "I will prostrate myself toward your holy sanctuary in awe of You" (Tehilim 5:8) … "Prostrate yourselves before the Lord in holy splendor" (Tehilim 29:2). Do not read: "behadrat" (in splendor), but rather "becherdat" (in awe). (Berakhot 30b)

 

The Gemara, however, cites a Baraita that takes a different approach:

 

One should not rise to pray neither amid sorrow, nor amid slothfulness, nor amid laughter, nor amid chatter, nor amid lightheadedness, nor amid idle words. But rather amid the joy associated with a mitzva. (Berakhot 31a)[3]

 

In any case, we cannot disregard the prominence that the Mishna assigns to the feeling of reverence, when it is clear from the Gemara that we are dealing with a true sense of fear and trembling. We shall suffice with two examples of how these feelings should accompany a person engaged in prayer. It must be emphasized again that these are not the only feelings that should accompany prayer, and that when a person prays he undoubtedly also experiences joy and excitement flowing from his standing before God. Also, but not only.

 

     People often describe in glowing terms the turbulent experience of praying in a natural setting. It is therefore surprising to find the following Halakha:

 

One should not pray in an open area, such as a field. This is because when one is in a secluded spot the fear of the King takes hold of him and his complacency is shattered. (Shulchan Arukh, OC 9:5)

 

This ruling is based on a talmudic passage in Berakhot 34a, according to the understanding of the Rishonim. The Gemara even classifies one who prays in a field as "impudent." It is reasonable to assume that Chazal understood the enormous emotional intensity of prayer offered out in the open. Nevertheless, they were wholly unenthusiastic about praying in the bosom of nature, because they preferred other feelings. They felt that it is preferable to rein in one's excitement, and develop in its stead a feeling of fear and dread.

 

     Another halakha points to the same kind of thinking. We refer here to a halakha based on a later ruling, which found its way into the Rema:

 

It is forbidden for one to kiss his small children in the synagogue, so that he will resolve in his heart that no love compares with the love of the Omnipresent. (Rema, OC 98:1)

 

This halakha is less widely accepted; in every synagogue we see people disregarding it. We may, however, examine the thinking of the halakhic authorities that led them to this surprising ruling. Prayer is not meant to blend into a person's lifestyle out of excitement and ease. Prayer includes a dimension of sacrifice and investment. Rema speaks here of a love of God, not fear of God; but this is love that demands sacrifice, and does not flow naturally from man.

 

     At the beginning of this lecture, we saw how Rabbi Soloveitchik viewed prayer as emerging from human suffering and loneliness. He mocked those who seek comfort and security in prayer, and therefore wish to pray alongside the rest of their families. Rabbi Soloveitchik understood that a person engaged in prayer experiences the essential feeling of alienation and loneliness. Even if this is not the exclusive feeling, it is very significant in our prayer. Here we close the circle, and see that the feeling of distress and tension is not only man's point of departure for prayer, but also the spiritual feeling that is supposed to be created through prayer, as a result of man's encounter with God.

 

FOOTNOTES

 

[1] "Ra'ayonot al ha-Tefila," Ish ha-Halakha – Galui ve-Nistar, p. 240.

 

[2] See also what Rabbi Soloveitchik writes there, pp. 80ff.

 

[3] See Talmidei Rabbenu Yona (Berakhot 22a in Alfasi, s.v. rabanan) who emphasize that the Mishna and Baraita disagree. Bach (OC 93) argues that according to the Tur, the Mishna reflects the preferred approach, whereas the Baraita's approach is intended for those who cannot comply with the demands of the Mishna. There are, however, those who understood that the Mishna and Baraita do not necessarily disagree.

 

(Translated by Rav David Strauss)