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Lesson 10
THE HERO/HEROINES OF JEWISH PRAYER

Before turning to this week's topic, I would like to relate a bit to the scope of our course and offer a brief summary. Before our Passover Haggadah detour, we had spent two sessions focusing on the Amidah, or the Eighteen Benedictions. Honestly, I would prefer to continue with a detailed examination of more blessings from the Amidah. Then again, however, the remaining topics set out in the course outline all have their particular richness and are deserving of our attention. What then, if there is so much left to say about the blessings of the Amidah, have we said in this course that is truly valid and complete? I would summarize as follows:

1. The Amidah is identified in the classic rabbinic sources as "prayer" par excellence. It is understandably the high point to which the service builds;

2. The key linguistic element of the component texts is the specific attribute of God referred to in each blessing, which most often has a Biblical precedent (e.g. "Who supports those who fall");

3. The brevity of "prayer" and the use of attributes in the prayer texts combine to define a technique of Jewish worship, which we can assume is unique to Judaism.

I think if you go through some of the 18 (19) blessings of the Amidah which we have not covered while keeping the above generalizations in mind, you should have a pretty fair idea about how they work. If you have any questions, please send them on.

We turn now to a "hero" and a "heroine" of Jewish prayer. I have argued that Jewish prayer represents a devotional technique peculiar to Jewish spiritual tradition. Having maintained that such a technique exists and that our texts are ancient, our current question is: who are the individuals mentioned in our tradition as prayer practitioners par excellence? Whom are we to emulate when we stand to worship? How did they distinguish themselves? From your knowledge of the Bible, the siddur and even synagogue bulletins, whom do you think are the likely candidates for distinction in prayer? Jot them down for yourselves and I'll tell you a story I heard recently in the name of Rabbi Avraham Twerski:

There once was a poor stone-cutter, who everyday worked from morning to night with his chisel cutting stones from the side of the large mountain near his village. One day, the king's entourage passed below where the stone-cutter was working. He thought to himself: "Surely the king is the most powerful person in the land. Wouldn't it be nice to be the king?" Now, as it happens with prayers, you never know when it is the best time to utter one. Lo and behold, the poor stone-cutter's prayer was heard. Immediately, he found himself in the king's crown and heavy cloak, riding in the hot sun. He began to sweat, and looking up towards the sun he thought: "Surely the sun is more powerful than the king. I want to be...the sun!" This too was a propitious time for prayer and the stone-cutter found himself high in the sky shining on all below. He made the crops grow and a few kings sweat, and revelled in his new power. Then a little rain cloud floated beneath him and began to rain on the crops. "Hey," he thought, "this little cloud can take away the sun. That's real power!" His prayer was heard. He became the rain cloud. He rained everywhere the wind blew him until he came up against the side of a big mountain where he became stuck. "Now," he thought, "that's real power! If only I could be the mountain, there would be nothing more powerful than that!" With prayers, when you're on a roll, there's no stopping you! Sure enough, the stone-cutter found himself transformed into a great mountain. But, just as he was beginning to enjoy his new position as a mighty mountain, he heard a distant sound -- chip, chip, chip. Why it was a stone-cutter chipping into the side of the mountain he had become!

What distinguishes a hero of prayer? Is it his (or her) ability to master the technique of prayer? Is it ability to determine the propitious time in which to pray? Is it his insight into the proper things to pray for? Is it the mere fact that certain individuals are graced in that they always seem to get what they ask for? Is it willingness to place one's belief in the power of prayer? What do you think of our stone-cutter -- our little Sysyphus (1) -- who conquers the mountain of existence by chip-chip-chipping away? Why were his prayers "efficacious" -- or were they?

In Numbers 12 we read that Miriam and Aaron, Moses' sister and brother spoke against Moses because of the Kushite woman he had married (Don't ask! -- No, actually catch the J.U.I.C.E course "Family Relationships in the Bible" next time it is offered for a full discussion of this story.) Miriam is struck with leprosy. Aaron, the High Priest, diagnoses the disease (a responsibility of the Priest in those days) and asks Moses to save her. Moses cries out to God: "O God, I pray thee, heal her now!" ("E-l na r'fa na la" - 12:13) The great biblical commentator, Rashi, is shocked by Moses' prayer, which consists of a mere five Hebrew words, of which four are monosyllables: Why didn't Moses pray at length, Rashi queries. His response: So the Israelites should not accuse Moses saying "his sister is suffering, and this one drags out his prayers!?" Another explanation offered by Rashi: So the Israelites should not say "for his sister he drags out his prayers, but for us he doesn't even supplement his prayers!?! (Rashi ad loc)

By all standards, Moses' prayer on Miriam's behalf is remarkably short. In fact, in an earlier comment Rashi describes the first two Hebrew words, "E-l Na" (O God, I pray thee), as a polite introduction by which Moses avoided beginning to pray immediately. In other words, in a prayer of only five words, the first two were "preparation for prayer!" This statement radically reduces the text of Moses' prayer to only three words! Yet had he prayed at length, according to Rashi's note, he would have been criticized. Rashi's comments jive with two technical aspects of Jewish prayer which we have discussed in this course, brevity and the honorific prologue.

Furthermore, in the Babylonian Talmud we read (Remember, this story harkens back from the time in which the paragraphs that accompanied the blessings of the Amida were not yet fixed. The prayer leader improvised on the spot):

We see that not only is Moses' prayer acceptable, but it defines for us the lower limit of brevity. On the same page in the Talmud, Rabbi Chisda tells us that one who prays for the health of someone else need not even mention that person's name, again citing Moses' prayer in its brevity. In short (sic), Moses establishes an ideal we are already familiar with -- effective prayer gets right to the point!

Now I know some of you folks are getting upset with me by now. The Talmud and midrashim are filled with stories of Rabbis and religious heroes who turn to God in prayer -- why choose cases which conveniently support the argument for brevity I have made before on an academic basis? Isn't my choice of sources transparently selective? Indeed!!

The truth is there are legends (or midrashim) that sometimes appear contradictory, and which nevertheless can be found side by side in the talmudic/midrashic collections. Some scholars have seen this as an indication of "indeterminacy of belief" in the midrash. This is a downtown phrase meaning that the midrash, unlike halakhic (legal) argument, does not pin itself down. Other scholars sense in stories of this nature an interdependence between law and lore. In fact, we can discern in the midrash the tendency to identify technical traditional prayer behavior (from a much later period) with the biblical hero. In a sense, Moses is not the issue; the real issue is how long prayer should take.

Clearly the midrash brings the accounts of our spiritual giants to inspire us in our own spiritual modelling. It is irrelevant whether or not the original intent of the biblical text was to establish the proper technique of prayer for once and for always. Even if Moses prayed in short-hand because he was angry, busy or on his way to sheva brachot (his post-wedding feast) with his new Kushite wife, for the midrash this is enough to confirm Moses' stature as a role model for the value of brevity in prayer. His two opening words "Please, God" furthermore serve as validation for our practice of preparing ourselves (and God) before making our prayerful requests. Let us consider another example.

In the first chapter of Samuel I, we read the story of Hanna, the wife of Elkanah. Hanna was barren. Elkanah was the great-great grandson of Tzuf of Efrat, a city you may have heard of, just south of Bethlehem. Elkanah loved Hanna and offered up offerings to God at Shilo on her behalf. However, his offerings brought no child to the couple. Yet, when Hanna goes herself to the Temple and prays, her prayers are answered. She becomes the mother of Samuel the prophet. In the Talmud, Berachot 31a-b we find the following analysis. It will be interesting for you to first read the few biblical verses (I Sam. 10 ff.), so you will be able to see how the Talmud learns from Hanna's behavior detail by detail.

This is one interesting text. First, the use of Hanna as an example is remarkable in and of itself. We have before us a comparatively minor biblical figure, living during a period well after the formative generations of the Jewish people. Furthermore, it is ironic that the Talmud takes for its role model a WOMAN, since it tends to presume that those having the halakhic (Jewish legal) obligation to recite the Amida regularly are men. Yet her example becomes the basis for many laws governing the rituals of reciting the Amida! Finally, her prayer has absolutely nothing to do with fixed ritual worship. She is a barren woman who has gone years without bearing children: Hanna is understandably praying straight from the heart. She is agonized by her barrenness so she promises to dedicate any child born to her as a nazirite if God will only answer her prayer. This is a very serious prayer, BUT THIS IS NOT THE AMIDA!!

The most prosaic reason for citing Hanna as a genuine heroine of prayer is the fact that DETAILS are given in the bible regarding her behavior. Moses gets up, as my grandmother used to say and "er macht zhoop-zhoop" (i.e., he says a "quickie" - Yiddish). With Moses, we are given little to flesh out our understanding of the experience. With Hanna, however, the scene and her behavior are described in detail. I think there is even more to say, and would like to offer some of my own read on the text. If we look at the story (I Samuel 1:3 ff) we find other details:

Elkana goes up to Shilo, year after year, to worship and sacrifice; but year after year his entreaties on behalf of Hanna go unanswered. Hanna, finally, takes prayer matters into her own hands. Not having eaten, she rises up after Elkana and the other members of the family are glutted with food and drink, and she goes to the temple in Shilo to pray. Eli, the priest whose function it was to perform the sacrifices, does not even notice her come in. He is sitting on his chair by the gate post. Only after Hanna has "continued to pray", that is, after time has passed, does he notice her. And he doesn't even know that she is praying in the proper way, in accordance with the many IMPORTANT LAWS of prayer she will come to exemplify for Rav Hamnuna! (Remember, anachronism is not really an issue in the traditional understanding of Jewish texts. Their fluid sense of time is consistent with expecting Eli to know laws that would be officially codified only much later.) Eli, the priest, could not tell a pious woman from a drunk one!! Finally, when Hanna prays from the heart her prayer is answered. The underlying tension between the sacrificial rite and prayer IS what this story is all about. I Samuel, chapter 1 is on one level, a polemic against sacrifice by the often corrupt priesthood. This culminates in chapters 2 and 3 with the death of Eli and his sons for their sins. If so, prayer emerges in this chapter as a more pious alternative than sacrifice, specifically in the character of Hanna.

Appropriately, R. Hamnuna learns many laws from Hanna's example. Jewish tradition calls upon us all to pray like Hanna: to pray the Amida silently yet move our lips to articulate the words; to carefully prepare ourselves so when we stand to pray we can incline our hearts; to refrain from praying while intoxicated. In Hanna, or better yet, in R. Hamnuna's reliance on Hanna, we see once again less concern with the outcome of prayer than with the technique of prayer. (Although the proven efficacy of Hanna's prayer is no small factor.) It is almost to suggest that our spiritual modelling is best accomplished when we have specific behaviors to focus on. R. Hamnuna's statement appears in the chapter of Berachot discussing the attitude of prayer ("We stand to pray only in a reverent mindset" - ch.5). He argues implicitly that if we want to pray like Hanna, with a fully-inclined heart and deep reverence, we must behave as she behaved.

(1) In the Greek myth, Sysyphus was condemned to push a huge rock up a mountain, only to have it roll down the other side each night. His tragedy is that he can't conquer the mountain (can you figure out what the mountain represents?), but he can't stop pushing either.

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