These are just a few examples of our jaundiced way of looking at prayer.
Because we Jews have been entrusted with this incredible ability of unlocking the Gates of Heaven with our prayers, we must be the ones to raise our voices and invoke Hashem’s blessings. We must ask Him to take our hand and lead us through the turmoil, the chaos, the ups and downs, the worries, pains, and struggles of our individual lives and the darkness that has enveloped our world.
Most of us are familiar with King Solomon’s declaration in Song of Songs, “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li…I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” If you have someone in your life who is a beloved – or even just a close – friend, would you not communicate with that friend on a daily basis? Would you not speak to that person regularly? Would you not confide your hopes and thoughts?
My three-year-old great-granddaughter spent some time with my daughter, her grandmother. Every morning she would observe her bubbie saying “Good morning” to Hashem and thanking Him for all His gifts. She would listen as her bubbie would call me, the great-grandmother, and ask how I felt.
One day she overslept and missed this daily ritual. “Bubbie,” she asked in wonderment, “did you say hello to Hashem? Did you call your mother and find out how she is feeling?” Should we adults not have as much intelligence as a three year old? G-d is our Beloved Friend who attends to all our needs. Should we not be connected to Him?
If our Beloved Friend sends us challenges, should we not look up and say, “My Beloved G-d, I know you are sending me a message, but guide me, show me the path. Give me insight so I might know which way to turn.”
Should we not spill out our hearts to Him when He speaks to us? Should we not answer Him?
There are families that cannot communicate. They cannot say anything meaningful to each other. Similarly, when we just mumble to G-d it indicates the beginning of a breakdown in our relationship with Him.
We must always be cognizant of the fact that when we stand in prayer we stand before the King of Kings – our Beloved Friend, our Loving Father. We can ask for the impossible because He can make everything possible. In His presence we can cry uncontrollably. He can transform our tears into brilliant jewels to adorn our lives. If we run to Him, He will embrace us and heal our wounds.
The Hebrew word for prayer is tefillah, which also means self–judgment. Prayer invites us to scrutinize our souls; to judge ourselves – it’s like entering a spiritual spa from which one emerges revitalized and invigorated.
Prayer demands that we cling to G-d; indeed, that is the mission of every Jew. But exactly how do we cling to G-d? The answer is simple. We need only follow the example of a toddler who clings to his mommy and holds her tight. He doesn’t let mommy out of his sight for even a second. If somehow he loses her, he cries until he’s reconnected. That’s clinging to G-d. That’s genuine prayer.
We must talk to G-d not once but many times, day and night, in our minds and in our hearts. If we cling to Him we will never be alone. G-d is always walking with us. Even through dense darkness. Even on painful and treacherous roads.
We are never to forget the clarion call: “Even though I walk in the valley overshadowed by death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me” (Psalm 23).