Therefore, to daven may be to encounter G-d, or it may be to fulfill one’s Jewish obligation. Consequently, to daven is to experience G-d through fulfillment of obligation.
A legitimate question arises: If one does not feel G-d’s presence or even believe in G-d, then what use is going through the motions of ritual? In other words, should I first believe in G-d before trying to connect to G-d through Jewish practice?
My answer, my discovery, is best exemplified by way of allegory. In the science-fiction movie “Contact,” the protagonist is part of a team that monitors huge antenna-like satellite dishes in the desert that constantly send messages into space and are constantly attempting to receive extraterrestrial messages. The messaging and the monitoring are constant, because the team does not know when, or even if, contact will be made. The one thing of which they are certain is that if the antennae are not up, contact is impossible.
Mountains did not move the first time I stood in my apartment on a Friday evening and lit two candles as the sun set. Nor did that act alleviate my struggle with belief in G-d. In fact, the experience felt no different than if I had lit two candles on any other weeknight.
However, after returning week after week to this same activity, after reciting week after week the blessing that Jewish tradition prescribes, after fulfilling my decision to give the lighting of Shabbos candles a chance – after all that, my antenna was up. I began to crave the warmth and comfort of the ritual. Slowly, I began to feel the serenity and security that accompanies the fulfillment of this Jewish obligation. Finally, finally, I began to feel a transcendental meaning in the ritual. My attempt to intellectualize the experience only succeeded in tarnishing what I was feeling spiritually. When I stopped analyzing, I allowed myself to feel the wonderment.
Next I turned to the practice of davening. My pre-conditions of certainty of belief in G-d, the demand for proof of G-d’s ear, and the desire to first feel G-d’s presence prevented me from opening myself up to the possibility of personal spiritual growth.
Jewish tradition teaches that relationship with G-d is the strongest type of partnership: it is a covenant of duality – G-d has a role and we have a role. Despite the gift of life, the gift of reason, the gift of emotional capacity, I expected G-d to further approach me as if I were a prophet. One need not be a Torah scholar to know what we Jews think of someone claiming modern-day prophecy – meshuganah. Yet the majority of the Jewish world seems to require this type of connection with G-d as a precondition to participation in the Jewish relationship with G-d by way of Jewish practice.
The above realization/revelation was the discovery I needed in order to approach the idea of prayer. The greatest obstacle to my development as a serious Jew was my inability to see the benefit of Jewish practice prior to the acquisition of absolute faith. Once I was able to release the stigma and fear that my intellect associated with prayer, and once I realized that prayer is a multi-faceted, Jewish activity, my heart and mind became fertile ground for the exploration of this uniquely Jewish experience we call davening.