Praying like a prophet: Chayei Sarah 5773
D'var Torah delivered at the Riverway Project's Soul Food Friday, November 9, 2012
The life of Isaac is filled with unusual
moments. The major ones get all the attention-- from his miraculous
birth, which elicits from Sarah the very laughter that gives Isaac his name, to
the Akeda, the binding of Isaac, which we read last week. Undoubtedly the
binding of Isaac is the most traumatic event in the lives of our patriarchs.
And then there's Isaac's later life,
when his physical blindness makes him vulnerable to the deceit of his wife and
son Jacob, to steal the blessings and birthright that was due to Esau.
These three events--his birth, his near
death experience, and his mistaken bestowal of birthright and blessing upon the
wrong son-- define Isaac's life. And they paint him in a particular way….
as the most passive of our ancestors. Isaac is the one who is acted on,
things are done to him rather than by him, and the story of his life is defined
by those who surround him-- by his father, by his servant, by his wife, by his
sons. And the question lingers throughout history-- who is Isaac, and
what does he really teach us?
But there is a moment in Isaac's
predominantly passive life story which we stumble upon this week in Parashat
Chayei Sarah…. It is in fact one of few active moments of Isaac's life.
He actually does something.
The text reads: Vayeitzei Yitzchak
lasuach basadeh--Isaac went out lasuach in the field. Lasuach,
this is a complicated Hebrew word. It can mean meditate or
contemplate or converse. The root for lasuach is still found
within modern Hebrew, the word sicha is a conversation. Who
was Isaac conversing with, what is he meditating on?
The Rabbis interpreted Isaac's sicha as
prayer. Isaac prays! While the Rabbis were trying to endorse their own
particular prayer structure, their reading nevertheless draws insight into the
character of Isaac, and more relevantly for us, the nature of prayer itself.
In the Bible there is no singular word
for prayer-- there are plenty of words.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi of
Great Britain teaches that there are "two distinct spiritual traditions in
biblical Judaism." Two ways of understanding the nature of prayer
itself. One is the way of the prophets (including the patriarchs and some
matriarchs—those who communicate with God) and the other is the way of the
priests.
Knowingly or not, we're somewhat
familiar with the prayer of the priests. When the Temple was destroyed the
Rabbis organized our prayers around the sacrificial system. From then on
we would pray 3 times a day, calling our worship shacharit, mincha, and
maariv, according to the morning, afternoon, and evening offerings of the
priests in the context of the sacrificial cult.
Sometimes we’d offer God some extra sugar, the musaf or additional
offering. We still use these terms to
describe our services today. So in terms
of our own institutional understanding of prayer, we might say that the priests
won the day. We even call our services, services in English (Avodah
in Hebrew). Prayer is worship.
But here's the problem. Prayer is
not only worship. Not if we're praying like prophets, that is
those who in our biblical text are communicating directly with God.
Praying like a prophet is an entirely
different practice. According to tractate Berachot 26a of the Babylonian
Talmud, each of the patriarchs had their own distinct kind of prayer, and a
distinct verb for praying. Abraham, in Genesis 19:27, "arose early
in the morning to the place where he had stood." Abraham stood--
laamod, Amida. Abraham's prayer, his communication with God, was
early, it was bold, and it was confrontational.
We already discussed Isaac. Isaac the
introvert was a lasuach basadeh kinda guy. He would find
himself wandering in a field, meditating in the afternoons. Lasuach-- Sicha,
prayer as meditation, as contemplation and conversation. And Jacob in
Genesis 28:11, vayifga bamakom, he came upon a certain place…put
his head on a rock and had a celestial dream, with angels climbing up and down
a ladder to heaven. He woke up in that place and say, "Surely God is
in this place, and I had no idea!" Vayifga bamakom, he
stumbled upon a place, or as Sacks translates it he bumped into God.
P'giah, a surprising encounter! Amida (standing
up), Sicha (conversing/meditating), P'gi'ah
(encountering). Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob-- all praying differently.
The Rabbis of the Talmud intuited what
was ingrained in the mind of the biblical authors of Genesis: Everyone
prays their own way. In different locations, different life
circumstances, with different words, through different verbs. We don't
stand up and sit down all together at once-- not in the prayer of the prophets.
Why would we do that-- we're all different!
In fact, we've inherited both
traditions. But frankly, in our own worship as a Jewish community today,
one has prevailed over the other. What we're starting to see, however, is
that human spirit finds its own way to pray. The spirit doesn't care
whether the Jewish establishment is ordering its prayers sufficiently or
adequately-- people find their own prayer, whether it looks Jewish or not, and
whether they call it prayer or not—and they usually don't.
Raise your hand if you've found
spiritual fulfillment in a form of movement—yoga, running, exercise. Keep
your hand up.
Add your hand if you've felt uplifted or
transcendent while expressing yourself artistically-- through song, through
poetry, writing, etc. Keep your hand up.
Raise your hand if you have found shalom
in meditation or silence. Everyone who's hands are up, switch hands so you
can keep them up.
Raise your hand if you've found holiness
in study or contemplation, or through a conversation with another human being.
If you will, we can read these forms of expression as authentic prayer--
as Jewish prayer. (hands down)
Perhaps we'd best be served by no longer
assuming that to pray means to pray like a priest. Because most of us
already are praying like prophets. Each of us, in our own way. For some
through stillness and others through movement, through percussion or through
melody, in harmony or in silence.
So here’s a question-- lasuach basadeh,
to discuss in your nearby vicinity, with the person next you or at home.
Where and when do you feel most prayerful? Where do you pray like a
prophet???
Shabbat Shalom.