Difficulty in Prayer (1/23)

Last week I attended a Lunch n Learn type lecture/discussion at HUC with a visiting rabbi from LA. The topic was "Does God Pray?" He brought in a text indicating that God does pray, and what does he pray for? I found this study session very interesting because I'm still not sure if I believe in God, so what God might pray is an additional layer to consider.

I think belief in God and the idea of praying have both been very much visible to me over the last few months, through studying, having conversations with other people, trying to observe Shabbat in some way shape or form each week that I've been here, and just in my general thought process of life. These questions are both so prevalent in my mind lately, so having a session like this to process was helpful in some way

Tonight we had Judaism class with Rachel Goldberg, our fabulous teacher. I've only missed one or two classes the entire time we've had her as our teacher. She's a great teacher and I'm sad that I won't be able to learn with and from her in a few weeks.

Our topic tonight all things prayer - what is it, who does it, when and why or why not, and we began to delve into the details of the Amidah, the standing personal/private prayer, or the "meat and potatoes" of any prayer service. Next week we will continue learning about the Amidah, some other prayers, and I'm sure we will go on many tangents as we always do.

I took a class last year about liturgy, with women in Westchester through the Federation. When I first started working for Hillels of Westchester, I was invited to their monthly study group. Last year brought us a new teacher, Rabbi Deborah, and a new subject instead of Torah; we studied the prayer book. One of the things we studied was the Kaddish prayer, which is recited for breaks between the services, after the study of Torah, and if you are in mourning. So it's a very familiar prayer, or as I learned in Rabbi Deborah's class, a piece of liturgy. We also studied the structure of the prayer service as implemented by the Rabbis, so they could make sense of life after the destruction of the 2nd Temple. A lot of "prayers" were made into an order and a routine, which I guess I understand now as liturgy. So I did enjoy parts of tonight's class because it referenced some things with which I felt familiar.

The parts of tonight's class (and last week's lunch lecture) were the same parts I still seem to struggle with. I don't know if I believe in God to begin with. So if I don't believe in God, why should I pray and who would I be praying to, and via which method? That is one route I could go down. The other route, if I do believe in God, how do I pray and what am I "supposed" to say or do or think or feel? Judaism has this whole outline for us to follow. There are books that tell you how to do it. It should be so easy. But the way Rachel described prayer tonight was for sure in a different way than I had ever been taught or told before. The Hebrew word for "to pray" is "lehitpalel." Verbs that begin with "lehit" are always reflexive. For example, "lehitkaleach" is "to shower" as in, to wash yourself. "Lehitlabesh" is to dress oneself (where as "lilvosh/lilbosh," which sounds similar but without the "lehit", is to wear). "Palel" is inspection or examining or judging, so "lehitpalel" must be a search within or of oneself. Therefore the verb "lehitpalel" is really representative of a process of ongoing self transformation. Now that is another way of looking at prayer.

I am definitely one to admit that I am very much always in a process of attempting to better myself and attempting to better the world. Does that mean I am praying when I do this? If so, it is certainly not the same way that many people use the word pray, but maybe according to this definition, I do pray. By no means am I perfect; I am far from it. Therefore, in almost every action I do, and when I think about making plans in advance - either with family or friends or for work related purposes - I am always thinking of the consequences and minimizing anything bad that might result. Will someone's feelings get hurt? Will I put someone in an awkward position? Will I end up forcing someone to be late to an important meeting? Does this person really want to talk about what's bothering them or can I just let them come to me when they are ready? Can I do something to change these circumstances for the better? What if I made one more person smile today, wouldn't that bring light to the world?

So maybe I pray more than I think. If we're talking tradition and familiarity with what people know as prayer, I don't do it very often, if ever. But if we're playing the game of semantics, I guess I'm praying all the time. Who knew?