Letters to Malcom: Letter 4 Part 3

In the last part of this letter Lewis addresses the question of whether there is a threshold on the importance of a request in prayer, below which should not be included in one's prayers. I generally resonate with Lewis' approach to this, but a permanent liturgy of rabbinic Judaism does change he parameters. In the amidah prayer, the central prayer in all three daily services, the requests are already there.

The amidah prayer includes 13 blessings of requests, six are personal, six are communal, and one is a catchall. It is safe to assume that when our Sages established these blessings, they chose needs that were universally important for all people across time and space. Hence the six personal blessings are for wisdom, return (to God), forgiveness, redemption, healing, and prosperity. The order of the blessings is discussed in the Talmud (Megillah 17b) but the themes are presumably broad enough that they cover all important aspects of human need. In fact, specific requests can be made within each blessing for specific relevant requests. 

Nonetheless, I think our Sages are teaching us a lesson: there's not that much that we really need. 

Letters to Malcom, Letter 4 Part 2

Now that we've determined that prayer effects and transforms us, the one who prays, we can turn to the Letter's second question, "how important must a need or desire be before we can properly make it the subject of a petition?" Perhaps we should just ask God for big things, like that you should always be healthy and that your kids should be well behaved, or global things, like world peace and to remove hunger. 

Lewis pushes back on this. First, he notes that this is inauthentic. If you don't speak your mind, you're not standing before God in a true and vulnerable fashion. It's like you're trying to hide something from Him. Second, laying it all out in prayer is transformative, and will help you understand what is most and least important. 

As it happens, I am currently reading R' Yehuda Amital's "L'Olam yehai adam, - Always one should be man," and in his section on prayer he says as follows. If you were sitting right next to R' Aharon Lichtenstein (R' Amital's co-head of Yeshivat Har Etzion), and needed a pencil, you would never ask him to borrow one. Not because R' Lichtenstein wouldn't let you (of course he would!) but because you would think it's too trivial a request for someone of such great stature. God, however, should be approached with any request no matter how small. 

I might push even further and say that it's especially important to put the little things before God. It's obvious that no one has complete control over their health, and few people are brazen enough to think they have complete control over their wealth, or that they will never sin. It's obvious to everyone that those looming issues are in God's hands and must be put before Him. However, sometimes we might trick ourselves into thinking we can control the smaller thing: the test we've really studied for, the work presentation we know we've mastered. Perhaps, God forbid, we might think we can do those without His help. By formulating them into our prayers, we force ourselves to recognize that we have no agency whatsoever without Him. Even things we think we have in control are completely in His control. 

So I would suggest that especially the small things, the things we don't consider much of a need, should be put into prayer to enable us to realize Who is really the one who determines and fulfills our needs. 

Letters to Malcom, Letter 4, Part 1

In our last post on Letters to Malcom we noted the questions asked of Lewis and then tooked into the Hebrew root of the word 'pray'. We saw that the reflexive conjugation of the verb means that whatever is done via prayer is done to oneself, and that the thing that is done is judgment or belief. This helps us address the first question. Lewis is asked how come so much of prayer seems to be telling things to God. But God is omniscient, he doesn't need to be told? 

The answer, of course, is that by explicity stating these things while standing in God's presence (though He is everywhere, during prayer we are aware that we are standing in His presence), changes us. Us, not God. In prayer we see ourselves as we truly are, powerless, weak, controlled by outside forces, and perhaps, not trusing in Him. We lay that weakness in front to God and say, we've judged ourselves and now understand Who is really running to world, Who guides our lives, and Whose will we must follow. And we believe in Him, and perhaps that enables us to believe in ourselves. We have changed and, therefore, our lot in life can change as well. 

Lewis says somewhat similarly, prayer enables us to be aware that we are known by God, and that we assent to be knonw by Him. Lewis needs the assenting because Lewis wants man to be on a personal footing with God with "God revealing Himself as Person." Judaism will reject the latter formulation. There is an infinite barrier between man and God. Prayer overcomes this barrier because God lets it through, but seeing God's face is a logical impossibility. 

Letters to Malcom, Letter 4, Introduction

In Letter 4, Lewis addresses two questions concerning prayer. The first, which he characterizes as the question of an unbeliever but would not bother a believer, is why are we telling God things (such as what we want or need). God is omniscient, why do we need to tell Him? The second, which is practical for believers, is when is something important enough to offer it as a prayer before God. 

However, before looking at the answers to these questions, I would like to take a quick detour to look at what prayer means. The Hebrew word to pray comes from the root p.l.l. which is found in various forms throughout the bible. Even Shoshan gives three explanations of the root. (1) believe, foresee, or consider, for example Jacob after his reunion with Joseph says (Genesis 48:11) , "I had not thought to see thy face.." (2) beg, request, or stand in prayer, (3) judge. 

Sometime the midrashim will merge these translations. So for example, when the Psalmist (106:30) records, "Then stood up Pinehas, and p.l.l.: and so the plague was stayed." The Talmud (Berachos 26b) translates, "the verb 'standing' means prayer, 'And Pinehas stood up and prayed and the plague ended.' ” However, Pirkei d'Rabbi Eliezer (47) reads the same verse as follows, "He arose as a great spiritual leader and he judged Israel, as it says, "Then stood up Pinehas, and he executed judgment." This seems to be the more straightforward reading of the verse, because in the Torah we do not see that Pinehas prayed, but we do see that he killed the sinner. 

OK, so to this point we see that pray, has infused meanings of belief and judgement. But there's another piece we need to pay attention to. Despite the biblical verses, in almost all Jewish literature the verb 'to pray' is conjugated using the reflexive - doing something to yourself. Meaning when one prays, they are effecting themselves. To pray then means, to make oneself believe or to judge oneself. 

If all that is true, it would obviously incorrect to say that prayer does something to God. Rather, we must say prayer effects the person praying.

And I think this very much mirrors Lewis' answer to the first question. We'll look at that more closely next time. 

Letters to Malcom (Letter 3, Part 4)

Lewis returns to a few things towards the end of this letter that we have already discussed. So, the issue I would like to concentrate on here is the question of position during prayer. Lewis, rightfully in my opinion, places value on the position of the body during prayer since the body must pray as well. This the Jewish Sagesthroughout the ages (codified by Rama, Orach Chayyim 48:1) who invoke the psalmist (35:10), "All my bones shall say, God, who is like You?" to suggest that one should wave or shake one's body during the readong of the Torah and during prayer.

However, Lewis notes that there are more important aspects of prayer then kneeling such as concentration and that make sense. After all, the center of prayer is the heart and mind and while the body has a role it is clearly secondary. 

Not surprisingly, Judaism has a much more formalized approach to position during prayer which may take the form of sitting, standing, or leaning. Some prayers can be free form, others have preferneces or requirements (subject to capability). The need to stand might be due to honor or (as with the amidah service) an attempt to mimic angelic prayer. 

In summary, Lewis favors personal preference in time, position, liturgy, place and other aspects of prayer. The main goal is to have concentration on the prayers themselves. This leads to a very personal and (assuming the best of the person praying) meaningful prayer service. Judaism, though much of prayer was originally free-form, has formalized all of these aspects of prayer this has its own positive aspects as we've discussed in the past. Formalization also lends itself to being more apropos for communal prayer. I'll wait for a discussion of this to see if Lewis brings it up any point soon (I haven't read any further than I've written about so let's see where Lewis takes us next).   

Letter to Malcom: Letter 3 (Part 3)

Lewis goes on in Letter 3 to advocate against setting (or being stuck) one's chief prayer right before going to sleep. Of course, Lewis' argument is appropriate. One should pray when best able to concentrate. 

Of course, traditional Jewish prayer occurs thrice daily, as done by Daniel, morning, afternoon and evening. The Talmud forwards two ancient parallels to this: the daily sacrifices (morning, afternoon, and then finishing up all the sacrifices at night), and the prayer of our forefathers each of whom instituted one service. But even if one were not to follow this regiment, I'm at a loss as to why people in genearl, Lewis included, would not simply pray first thing in the morning. This would enable them to pray for their 'daily bread' right away before starting, and it would be the time where one is most refreshed. 

I really don't have much else to add here because to me this seems kind of obvious. Wake up a bit earlier and build prayer into your schedule right away.

Anyway, there's a bit more to this letter that relates to the position one adopts during prayer (and further discuss of the place of prayer). We'll talk about this, but I think underlying all of these issues (time, place, and position) there exists the question of communal prayer. We touched on this before, but it probably soon needs to be brough to bear on all of these issues.   

Letter to Malcom: Letter 3 (Part 2)

In the second part of this letter, Lewis brings up the question of praying to or with saints. While there is certainly a discussion of such topics in Jewish prayer I'm not going to rehash it. I'm simply going share my thoughts. So, if you don't like what I write below - blame it on me, there are other opinions out there... 

A fundamental belief in Judeo-Christian thought is that man is created in God's image. This can and does mean a number of things. But, chief among them, is that any individual human can have a direct relationship with God. No intermediary is necessary. And while it might feel like a good idea to have an mutual friend between you and God, it seems to me that it's a bit of a trap. God already told us you can have a direct relationship. He's not lying, so trust him! So, no, I don't like the idea of praying to saints (or righteous individuals, or rabbis, or angels, etc.). 

Still, there are several points to note. First, the above does not mean that one should not have others pray for them. Of course you should. That's why synagogues (and I assume churches) have special prayers for the those who may be sick or in danger, as we did for the hostages and continue to for the members of the U.S. Military and Israeli Defense Force. When someone prays for you, they declare before God that they care and that they themselves would be harmed should something happen to you. They throw in their peace of mind and well-being and say, "God, I am unworthy, but know that harming them hurts me too." This empathy is of great importance before God and may tip the scale in favor of safety and salvation for the person being prayed for. 

Second, though there is a lot of discussion as to how much angels should be invoked in prayer, it's almost impossible to cancel them completely from the Jewish liturgy. Angels, as in the typical type that are pictured with wings, and the astronomical bodies such as the sun and stars, have no free will. They follow the will of God. Copying their songs of paise to God or mimicking aspects of their being in physical terms (such as standing with ones feet together since angels are described as having one leg, or wearing white) demonstrates that we heed, or at least stive to heed, God's will like the angels, despite both our capability to to not follow and our sometimes unfortunately choices to not not follow His commands. 

Third, the place of prayer matters. Certain places are holy because of what happened there or what is to be found there. For example, Jerusalem is holy because it is where Abraham did not end up sacrificing Isaac, or because it is the place God chose to build the Temple (one could argue that God commanded to build the Temple is Jerusalem because it was already holy - perhaps due to the just mentioned binding of Isaac. But I don't think you have to say that. There are other rationales given for why the Temple is, for example, on the border between the tribes of Judah and Benjamin). Other places, such as a typical synagogue outside of Israel, can become holy, and appropriate for prayer, simply because Jews have prayed there for so long. And, perhaps a place can become holy, or let us say consecrated, because it is the final resting place of great people or a place where great people did their holy work. Abraham Lincoln put it succinctly, "The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract." Praying in a place of holiness (beyond perhaps that God is 'attracted' to such places) shows that we recognize the holiness. That we too, strive to be holy and walk in the footsteps of the great ones before us.  

In summary, I certainly don't like the idea of praying to saints and I'm not a big fan of praying with saints but I'm willing to entertain some glimmers of the idea as with my caveats above. 

Next time we'll discuss time of prayers... 

Letters to Malcom: Letter 3 (Part 1)

OK, there's a lot in this Letter so we'll go one step at a time... 

Of course, as with others of Lewis' books, we only see one side of the conversation. Here we do not see Malcom's letters, so we don't have an exact formulation of the parallel he attempted to draw between prayer and a man making love with his wife. Yet, it's clear that Lewis, rightly so in my mind, is not at all impressed. Two points to make on this part. 

1) Jewish literature and liturgy uses many parallels to provide insight into the relationship between God and the Children of Israel / the individual (anyone interested can read some of my thoughts on the subject here, though since then I've developed it a lot further). These include: Father/child, Husband/wife, Master/slave, and Shepherd/sheep. In different context different ones of these parallels are used. In Jewish prayer we find heavy usage of the Father/child and Master/slave parallels sometimes even juxtaposed like in the sixth blessing of the amidah. 

However, the Husband/wife parallel is rarely used in prayer (perhaps the Friday night L'chah Dodi is an exception) and for good reason. It's completely out of place. A wife should never have to ask a husband for sustenance, clothes, healing, etc. these are all part of the husband's obligations! What kind of husband doesn't provide for his wife - that would be clear grounds for divorce (not to mention it seems like a horrible relationship). Which means, that to pose as God's wife and then ask for one's daily bread would be accusing God of not fulfilling His obligation - which seems like a pretty horrible thing to do. 

2) I would just point out, that Judaism commands humanity to have children, be fruitful and multiply (Genesis 9:7), or 'He formed Earth for habitation' (Isaiah 45:18) and therefore the sexual act can not only be for the glory of God (which would be to strengthen the family unit) but also a (possibly) explicit part of fulfilling God's command.  

Letters to Malcom: Addendum to Formalized Liturgy

I just to add a couple of other perspectives on formalized liturgy that perhaps are worth contemplating:

1) Words have an underlying, perhaps mystical meaning, that is understood and appreciate only by religious masters such as our Sages who instituted and concretized the liturgy. This is the reason, for example, why the Talmud records it was so difficult to identify someone who could compose an extra blessing against the heretics in the amidah service. If the task was simply to compose a paragraph, how hard could it be? However, only a uniquely talented and wise individual could include in that paragraph deep religious themes, shades of meaning, hints, and mysticism. 

Though the typical individual may not appreciate the richness, beauty, and religious importance of the words of the formal liturgy, they are there. And praying it sensitizes a person to all held within in a way similar, l'havdil, to why high-school kids read Shakespeare, though there is no hope they will at this point understand the depth of his writing.

A more extreme form of this argument (which I admit to not resonating with) is to say, that the words of the Sages-composed prayer fill mathematics like equations that are known to influence God is certain ways. It is these words that must be said for the prayer to achieve maximum effectiveness. Other words may seem to say the same thing on their surface. Nonetheless, no matter how much intent or concentration one prays with, these words are simply better. 

2) One might also take the opposite approach. What right does finite man have to pray to the Infinite God? How can we ever give enough praise, enough thanks, or even make enough requests for the myriad of things that we need to go about our seemingly un-miraculous, 'daily routine'? How is it even possible? The answer is that we can't and it is impossible. In truth, “For You silence is praise” (Psalms 65:2). Even attempting to start to praise or make requests of God is insulting.

So, how can we? 

Because our ancestors did - and only by following in their ways can we do so as well. Hence, it is necessary to follow the set liturgy, because deviating from it is at best hopeless, because how can we approach the Infinite, and, at worst, smacks of insolence, as if we have the right to approach Him. 

OK, hopefully next time we'll go further... 

 

Letters to Malcom: Letter 2 (Part 3)

I have been admittedly hesitant and procrastinating on writing on standardized liturgy versus personal liturgy. This is in a large part because I don't believe there is a clear traditional Jewish view of on this question. Nonetheless, it's time to write something so let me just start and we'll see how we do. 

Traditional Jews have set prayers for all services - which means at least three times a day. Now, that does not mean that any given service has not evolved over the years, of course it has. Nor does is mean that every traditional Jew, or even any two particular synagogues will have the exact same service - that's not true either. There are a myraid of minor differences and sometimes relatively major differences based on country of origin, subsect, and rabbinic leadership. And there are even some slots in which one can fill in personal prayers when praying quietly. Yet, within those boundaries traditional Jews tend to be quite conservative when it comes to changing or updating liturgy. Try to walk into any synagogue and say, we should try doing this some other way, and you will be shouted down if not worse. 

This then begs the question, why is our liturgy so unyielding? Why not provide people or at least leaders the lattitude to pray what they want (during the standard service)? For the purposes of this post, I'm going to not concentrate on the historical circumstances that caused a standardization of the prayers (see Maimonides), rather, I'll concentrate on the view from where we are now. 

So why have a standard liturgy?

1) A first answer is inline with Maimmonides claim: sometimes it's hard to express oneself. Do we really want to use our own words when someone has already expressed the same feelings much more eloquently? Nevertheless, Lewis' comment, "we shall continue to pour into them our own meaning," is very much on target. 

2) Connection to the past: there is something to be said to using the same prayers my grandfather recited in Auschwitz and his ancestors recited during the Cossack rebellion and his ancestors during the massacres of the Crusades. Sure, again I will pour in my own meaning but that doesn't blunt the power of connecting to the past and realizing that God must have answered them since I'm here. 

3) Congregational prayer: power in numbers if everyone is praying the same thing. Not to mention everyone knows what's going on and no one has to guess. And even if someone is praying alone, he or she can still feel part of the congregation who prays knowing that they are reciting the same words. 

4) Standard liturgy also enables concrete teaching of the prayers.

OK, those are my thoughts for now.

If I don't have a chance to get back online, I would like to wish everyone a happy and sweet New Year. A year of peace, joy, and gladness in which we see the hostages returned, the IDF soldiers are safe, and hatred is no more. 

Letter to Malcom: Letter 2 (Part 2)

The second form of prayer that Lewis relates to in this Letter, is the behavior of the congregation during prayer. Lewis speaks highly of a Greek Orthodox mass he once attended in which, "some stood, some knelt, some sat, one crawled about the floor like a caterpillar," and no one cared what anyone else was doing. 

What Lewis does not address in his liberalism of behavior is are there any limits? Certainly, Lewis is assuming that the particular behavior is chosen in order to maximize concentration on the prayer or some other aspect of prayer. If not, what would be the point? So any behavior that would work against this goal would be rejected. Even beyond that I would assume that Lewis would limit any sort of obscene or irreverant behavior during prayer, even though he doesn't say so. An example, would Lewis be accepting of someone coming to pray in a bathing suit? I would assume not. God of course, knows what a person looks like so in that sense it doesn't matter. The person, however, is demonstrating irreverance - one would not appear in front of an important personage in that dress, so how can a person appear in church that way? 

Traditional Jewish prayer allows for a range of behaviors through most of the prayers assuming they are honorable and fitting (I don't think crawling around like a caterpillar would qualify). An exception is when the Holy Ark is open and/or the Torah scrolls are being carried. The only prayer exception is during the amidah in which we stand with feet together in the stance of the straight-one-legged angels who stand before God. 

The idea of copying the angels, or indeed, looking towards others for guidance rather then choosing ones own form of prayer, will be the central question when weighing formalized liturgy against spontaneous supplication. 

Letter to Malcom: Letter 2 (Part 1)

I have to admit, this Letter really threw me. Maybe someone can enlighten me as to Lewis' initial thought process was -  but let's see if we can break it down. 

The question at hand is the form of prayer and there are several modalities of form. First, there is standardized liturgy versus personal liturgy. Second, there is one's pose during prayer, and third, there is communication to God via speech versus thought as the means of prayer. In conclusion, Lewis seems pretty liberal and willing to let people decide what forms 'speak' best to them, but he still makes certain statements which I feel the need to bring up.

The first is Lewis assertion that the highest form of prayer is prayer without words. Now, in some respect I agree that there is a place for prayer without words. In fact, as we've discussed, such prayer may be the function of the shofar (rams horn) blown on Rosh HaShana (the Jewish New Year) or Susan's Horn - the realization that as a finite human I don't even understand my own needs, and so I am going to simply turn to go with a call or a cry and let Him fill in the rest. 

But that is not what Lewis is referring to. Lewis means prayer without any physicality whatsoever. In fact, he says that his first attempts was that even when praying for someone else he strive not to name the individual but to simply have a mental picture of the person. My guess is that via this sort of 'prayer' Lewis is hoping to shed as much physicality as possible and, by using on mentality, come as close to God as possible? 

It goes without saying that traditional Jewish prayer, which requires not only the words to be mouthed but also to be heard by the person praying, rejects such a notion. The Talmud is clear that God Himself comes to the synagogue. He is close by even in exile. There is no need to shed our bodies in order to reach out to Him. 

It's not my place to say, but I don't see why a Christian would feel any differently. Does not Aslan assert to Bree (in a way that is foreign to Judaism) that he can be touched and smelled? 

So, that is my first thought on this Letter. I would suggest the opposite of Lewis. Better that prayers should be spoken and names should be named. This enables people to better internalize, better concentrate, and better recognize that, even though they are physcial beings, they are beloved by God who 'lowers' Himself to hear our prayers. 

From a practical standpoint Lewis comes to this conclusion as well. I would argue that part of prayer is recognizing who we are, embracing it, and understanding that we can still approach Him. Thus, on Rosh HaShana we pray, whether we are sons or whether we are servants our eyes look towards You, until You have mercy upon us.  

Letters to Malcom: Letter 1

The family and I were up in the Berkshires this past week where we stopped off at Shaker Mill Books, which I heartily recommend to all those who love used books. One of my finds was a 1964 edition of Letters to Malcom: Chiefly on Prayer and I thought it would be interesting to kind of live blog my thoughts as I read through.

Two caveats: (1) I realize, that I'm way behind on so many other things so hopefully I'll follow through on this and get to everything else soon as well. (2) I have mixed feelings about live blogging (or podcasting) through a book because I think any part of a book is better understood after reading through the whole thing. So, we'll see how this goes... 

Letter 1: 
This Letter surprised and confused me, and leads me to think that perhaps I have misunderstood church service. In traditional Judaism the need to pray with a quorum in a place dedicated for prayer (like a synagogue) is a given. And both matter - one should preferably pray in a synagogue even without a quorum and preferably pray at the same time as the rest of the congregation even if not at the synagogue. Hence, Lewis' almost immediate dismissal of congregational prayer as not a subject for discussion (outside of this first letter) was quite a shock. 

Where I find more room for agreement is in Lewis' emphasis on familiarity of the service. Tradiational Judaism certainly takes this to an extreme. While every (I can only speak for Orthodox Judaism) synagogue has its own flavor, the base service is very standardized, so that any Orthodox Jew can go to any Orthodox synagogue and have a good idea of what prayers are being recited (while in the Berkshires I prayed at a synagogue with a decidedly Hasidic influence. I am certainly not an adherent of Hasidism, but still followed along without a problem). Furthermore, the standardization of prayers exists even when not praying with a quorum, though certain parts of the service cannot be recited without said quorum. New prayers have been added to the standard service over the centuries, but a fundamental change of that sort takes decades to win acceptance. So, with respect to the habitual and familiar I am entirely onboard. 

Where I may find disagreement with Lewis is in his desire for the habitual in order to not have to fix attention on the service, but fix attention on God Himself. To some extent I understand this. If someone is not familiar with the tune or has a hard time reading the words that person may concentrate on the recitation of the prayer at the expense of its meaning. Still, this does not mean that the words of the prayer are besides the point, or should be recited in a habitual manner. Our goal is to fix attention on the meaning of the prayer, understand it, internalize it, for it is through the prayer that one speaks with God. So, what is it that Lewis wants people to concentrate on? I'm afraid I have not understood exactly what he wants. 

Finally, I have to comment on the question of language. From an early age we teach our children to read and understand biblical and rabbinic Hebrew. This does not mean that everyone successfully understands every word of every prayer (which is why many prayerbooks have translations). Nonetheless, the recitation remains the same. The Pslams and later prayers that make up the daily and holiday routines are recited in their original language and it is expected that people will strive to learn and understand the original language, even if modern Hebrew (and certainly English) is different than the language of the prayers. It is not my place to criticize, but I must admit, I am at a loss as to why the general Christian population does not learn the Greek and Hebrew necessary to understand their texts in the original.  

Perhaps I've misunderstood something in all this, and perhaps Lewis will clarify in later Letters. 

We'll see...