Rabbi Michael Kramer
This topic deserves a book. Actually, there have been many books written about prayer, and many different attitudes towards it.
Perhaps it’s not the most appropriate way to start a Jewish article about prayer, but in the 1960s I read Are You Running with me Jesus by Reverand Malcolm Boyd. He missed a mass that he was supposed to lead because there was a young woman who needed counseling. At first, he was disappointed by his absence at the prayer service, but then he came to the understanding that helping a person in crisis was a form of prayer also. I agree with Reverand Boyd. Prayer, reaching out to God, can take many forms.
Abraham Heschel z”l, a renowned 20th century theologian, wrote a book devoted to prayer, Man’s Quest for God. I’ve always found his work inspiring. For Heschel, prayer is selfless. “Prayer comes to pass in a complete turning of heart toward God, toward God’s goodness and power.” According to Heschel, “prayer is a spiritual ecstasy.” While Heschel exalts prayer, he adds that “prayer is no panacea, no substitute for action.” As an activist who marched with Martin Luther King, Heschel would have no difficulty agreeing with Malcolm Boyd’s approach to this question.
One scholar who has had a significant influence on me is Harold Kushner, z”l. Kushner is best known for his best-selling book When Bad Things Happen to Good People. He points out we confuse God with Santa Claus. We can’t use our “prayers to control and manipulate God.” He writes in Who Needs God that we can’t make a list of everything we don’t have but want and try to persuade God that we deserve it.
We can’t shower God with pleas and promises. Kushner asserts that people who pray for miracles don’t usually get miracles, but people who pray for courage or strength—or grace to remember what they have left—often have their prayers answered. He suggests that prayer includes listening to what God wants us to hear. God doesn’t need our flattery, but we must learn to be grateful.
One of the wisest thoughts about prayer comes from my wife, Barbara. When we say a MiSheberach, as an example, for a loved one, it strengthens our resolve. It has an effect on us. It can bring us comfort and peace of mind as well as the individual for whom we are praying. Here, Barbara agrees with Heschel that “the soul and the word react upon each other.”
Some people today think that prayer is meaningless. There is a Hasidic story that Kushner tells: A disciple comes to the rabbi and says, “I have a terrible problem. I can’t pray. I try to say the words, but nothing happens. I don’t feel anything. What should I do?” The rabbi answers, “Pray for the ability to pray.”
Rabbi Peter H. Grumbacher, Rabbi Emeritus, Congregation Beth Emeth
Emblazoned on one of my t-shirts is “Prayer is the world’s greatest wireless connection.” Surprisingly, across the years I have found that, during times of crisis, many Jews have become cynical with respect to the efficacy of prayer. While this may be linked to a question as to the existence of God in the first place, early in my rabbinate even the so-called agnostic would ask for a prayer to be said for themselves or an ill loved one.
I found an answer to this from a Christian clergyperson who, at a seminar on the topic of prayer, spoke about the “prayer of presence.” Rarely did he offer a prayer at the bedside of a congregant, either in their home or in the hospital. He sat there, period! Of course he would speak with the patient but, unless he was asked, he would not offer to say a prayer. And when he was asked, he would tell the patient, “You will offer the prayer. I will just put it together for you.” With that, he asked for the person to begin. Then, at the appropriate time, he would break in and put the words into a more “prayerful” form.
Often the process yielded a cornucopia of concerns beyond the illness itself, concerns the minister knew nothing or little about, opening the door to more than a prayer for health. But until the patient asked, even if there was silence at the bedside, the minister would “be there” but not pray. As he said, “Allowing the heart to open up to the power of one’s own feelings yields a far more meaningful prayer experience for the patient, and even the atheist could fashion the words into a prayer that gave him comfort.”
There is also a phrase found in our siddur that speaks volumes: “Pray as if everything depended on God but act as if everything depended on you.” In an imperfect world that requires far more than a prayer, rolling up our sleeves, and doing something might bring serious results. The implication of this quote is that there is a partnership, God and mortals need each other. To paraphrase, God can only be God if we witness for him (sic).
