Jewish Prayer

Aliyot

Hagbah and Gililah

The Community

The Friends ofwww.louisjacobs.org souvenir edition

Published to commemorate the consecrlltion, in memory ofLouis ]llCobs, ofthe Beit MitlrtUh situlltetl in the New North London Synagogue's new Bui/Jing andpresented to members ofthe Synagogue.

Friends oflouisjacobs.org is a registered charity No 113909 Please visit our web site www.louisjacobs.org

Printed and typeset by lvor Solution Ltd. Clerkenwell, London EC1V OAH

IVOrSOIUtiOn~ Illustrations by Barbara Jackson INTRODUCTION

The first book that Rabbi Jacobs wrote was Jewish Prayer. It was a book of just sixty pages, yet as a layman's guide to the subject it was a wonderful exposition. Originally published in 1955, two years after Louis Jacobs became Rabbi at the New West End Synagogue, the book was written as a response to the need of congregants for an open and stimulating essay that could connect them to the Synagogue and help them gain further meaning in their Jewish life.

The book was well received and was published in several editions with the last one in 1962. Now fifty years later, it is high time another edition was published and what better time than to commemorate the opening of the new Synagogue in Finchley. As Trustees of the newly formed charity whose aim is to publish online every one of Rabbi Jacobs's articles, we have found Jewish Prayer a source of great strength and value. It remains fresh and relevant, we believe even to an entirely new generation, many of whom may not know that much about the contribution that Rabbi Jacobs has made to understanding Judaism.

Alongside Jewish Prayer we feel it is eminendy suitable to add two short articles on the honours that people receive as part of Synagogue services and a piece reprinted from Rabbi Jacobs's book Religion and the Individual on community.

We are very thankful to Rabbi Jonathan Wittenberg for not only writing the Preface to this edition but for encouraging the work of the Friends and for ensuring that our approach to Judaism continues and develops. We very much hope that readers of this special edition will gain as much insight into the subject matter as we have. But we also hope that it will encourage readers to delve more deeply into Rabbi Jacobs's writing and life by visiting our web site, joining our emailing list, spreading the word and generally supporting the "Quest" for Judaism that Rabbi Jacobs started.

Dr Harry Freedman Agi Erdos Stephen Rosefleld Editor Ivor Jacobs Trustees - friends of louisjacobs.org

July2011 CONTENTS

RABBI DR LOUIS JACOBS Rabbi Wittenberg 7

JEWISH PRAYER 15' Chapter I What is Jewish Prayer? 16 Chapter 11 Does God Answer Prayer? 22 Chapter Ill Praising God JI Chapter IV Thanking God 40 Chapter V The Use of Hebrew in Prayer 4S Chapter VI The Technique of Prayer ss Chapter VII Congregational Prayer and the Synagogue 64

ALIYOT in the sources and in the service 71

HAGBAHAH AND GELILAH 77

COMMUNAL OBLIGATIONS 8J RABBI DR LOUIS ]ACOBS Rabbi Wittenberg

Rabbi Dr Louis Jacobs viewed himself flrst and foremost as a communal rabbi. It was here, in the weekly and annual round of synagogue life, that he saw his primary role. If Shula was like a mother to her congregation, the words which he promised her he would inscribe on her gravestone, then Rabbi Jacobs himself was most certainly a father flgure. It is thus that so many of us remember him, warm, full of humour, sharing an apposite anecdote, an inexhaustible source ofboth detailed and profound knowledge. He had not only a photographic memory for Jewish texts but a wonderful recall for people and the details of their lives. I cannot ever remember him at a loss in any company, or without a relevant insight to share. But it is chiefly in the synagogue that I see him still, illustrating a point in his sermon with a witty couplet, teaching his Shabbat afternoon Talmud class in which he would regale us with mediaeval commentaries and Hasidic legends without a note ever in sight. To this day it is his voice I hear in my head when I listen to the prayers for the community or read the Yizkor service.

For over sixty years, in London, Manchester and then back in London, he shared the life of the community rabbinate with Shula, who was a rebbetzin in the true traditional sense. This wasn't always easy; she once told me how in their Manchester days it was simply expected of them that they host ninety people for Rosh Hashanah dinner. This was well before the time when everyone crowded round the kitchen sink to help. But together they enjoyed the numerous celebrations, including the high society events to which Rabbi Jacobs's illustrious connections brought them invitations. Shula carefully kept all the wedding

7 RABBI DR LOUIS JACOBS invitations they ever received; that collection in itsdf could have made the cornerstone of a social history of Anglo-Jewry in the second half of the twentieth century. While he led from the pulpit, she gleaned that essential information vital for navigation through the daily life of any community, and which she no doubt shared with him. Thus she recalled their early days at the New West End Synagogue in the mid nineteen-fifties in the following terms: 'The ladies around me were all so helpful and wonderful. I shall never forget the wdcome given us. One lady sitting next to me was just like a mother... She had so much to tell me .. .I would feel so embarrassed when she'd say to me in a whisper "Look at your prayer book, I'm going to talk to you quietly. Just listen." And that is where I picked up so much information.'1

But beyond the warm recollections there are deeper questions to be asked. Why was the congregational world so important to Rabbi Jacobs? After all, he was a scholar of international standing in the three flelds ofTalmud, Hasidism and Theology at least. He wrote almost flfty books and published more than two hundred articles. On the many occasions I sat with him in his study there always lay on his invariably tidy desk a large notebook in which he was composing his latest work. Since his thirties the possibility of an academic career had been present and must at times have been an allure. So why did he not choose this avenue and why was it so important to him to be thought of not flrst and foremost as a scholar and theologian but as a community rabbi? As Elliot Cosgrove was to put it: The answers to these questions take us to the heart of his theological outlook.

What are the materials which should inform a person's

1 Shula Jacobs: Some Reminiscences Of Former Synagogue Positions (unpublished) November 1993

8 Rabbi Wittenberg theology? Even during his formative years at the Manchester Yeshivah and his time at the Gateshead Kolld, Rabbi Jacobs was aware of the importance of having a wider frame of reference than purdy the writings of the rabbinic masters of earlier times, essential and inspiring as they were. 'I know from personal experience', he wrote in his dairy on 13th February 1944, 'that one can get a great deal of sound common sense, a more vivid outlook on life and a greater appreciation of the depth and wonder of life, not to mention a guide of perception from secular studies'2 This follows a sharp critique of the negative attitude toward such secular concerns of some of the illustrious rabbinic authorities venerated in the world in which he studied, and constitutes an early marker of his own independence of spirit. This approach was to be sharpened and stimulated when he encountered the very different world of German Jewish Orthodoxy during his years as assistant rabbi at Munks Shul in the late 1940's and when he studied under the guidance of Dr Siegfried Stern at University College, London, for his degree in Semi tics. One of Dr. Stein's favourite sayings, subverting the original text from Proverbs 'The beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord', was 'The beginning of wisdom is bibliography'.

Yet here precisdy lay the challenge which was to provide the creative stimulus for what Rabbi Jacobs would most often refer to as the 'quest', the search for an approach to Judaism, a living theology, which was rooted in the wisdom of the past, founded on traditional learning and piety, yet which was open to the insights of new knowledge and the intellectual currents of the day. For Rabbi Jacobs a vital theology had to be more than a reiteration of the truths of earlier generations; it had to

2 Quoted in Teyku: The Insoluble Contradictions in the Life and Thought of Rabbi facobs, (as yet) unpublished PhD Thesis by Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove, p. 248

9 RABBI DR LOUIS JACOBS be honest to the state of contemporary knowledge and answer the questions of Jewish men and women living in the world of today. The key challenge which confronted him as a rabbi and intellectual of growing reputation was the need to flnd a workable synthesis between what was now known concerning the multiple sources and composite literary nature of the Torah as a document revealed, as Rabbi Jacobs would put it, not just 'to' but 'through' human beings, and the beliefs and practice of traditional Judaism which he loved and taught and to which he faithfully adhered all the days of his life. It was his intellectual preoccupation with what such a synthesis might look like and his refusal to abandon the pursuit of it in his teaching, writing and public speaking which was to lead to his alienation from and eventual rejection by the Orthodox establishment.

But the key point here is that just as such a 'quest' could not take place in the world of the yeshivah alone, so it could not be fulfilled solely in the academic environment either. There must of course have been times when Rabbi Jacobs was tempted to retreat to the seemingly more tranquil waters of academia; as Gertie Frankel, the wife ofWilliam Frankel, Rabbi Jacobs's life­ long supporter and editor of the Jewish Chronicle during the crucial period of 'The Jacobs Affair' was to put it in an English entirely her own, 'he got tzoros enough from congregants' ... so long as Jews College [and its teaching opportunities] stays barred he aint never gonna be an integrated poisanality'. 3

Yet the natural, indeed the only true home, for Rabbi Jacobs's theological quest was the synagogue, the community, the place where Jews encountered their Judaism in the midst of everyday life. It was here that Jews came with their questions and here,

3 Quoted in Teylm: The Insoluble Contradictions in the Life and Thought of Rabbi ]acobs, (as yet) unpublished PhD Thesis by Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove

10 Rabbi Wittenberg through study and debate, that they sought relevant and credible answers. It is no accident that Rabbi Jacobs's most famous, or, regarded from another angle most notorious book wt- Have Reason To Believe, grew out of the discussion circle he led at the New West End, a pulpit with a reputation of lying at the left borders of Orthodoxy, and which his more traditionally minded mentors had sought to dissuade him ftom accepting. Its aim, as the key chapter headings make clear 'What is meant by God?', 'Is religious faith an illusion?' 'Bible difficulties', was to address the difficulties experienced by ordinary, thinking Jews in finding an honest basis for their faith.

As he wrote in the introduction, 'Religious Jews want to be sure that their faith is no vague emotion but is grounded in reality. They want to be in the position of confidently asserting: 'We have reason to believe'.4 Elliot Cosgrove beautifully sums up Rabbi Jacobs' understanding of his own task: 'With scholarly credentials and sensibilities, but a devotion to congregational life, Jacobs' profile can perhaps best be appreciated as neither an academic nor a homilist, but as a theological educator'.5

Just as theology must be grounded not only in the great sources of Judaism but in the contemporary intellectual world and its many dilemmas and challenges, so must the application of Jewish law. In one of his greatest works A Tree of Life: Diversity, Flexibility and Creativity in Jewish Law, Rabbi Jacobs argued that the great halakhists throughout the generations had always responded to the economic, social and indeed philosophical and moral realities of their time, and that, far from remaining static through the millennia, Jewish law had always

4 W'e Have Reason To Believe p. 10 5 Teyku: The Insoluble Contradictions in the Life and Thought ofRabbi ]acobs, (as yet) unpublished PhD Thesis by Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove, p. 278

11 RABBI DR LOUIS JACOBS evolved dynamically in relation to these immediate and pressing concerns.

It was therefore essential that those responsible for making decisions lived not in the ivory tower ofthe yeshivah, but amongst those whom their answers had to guide and who would have to live their daily lives according to them, - that is, the community. Thus, while strictly orthodox in his personal practices, and while condoning no abrogation of the requirements of Jewish law, he was famously tolerant and inclusive in his views on conversion and his readiness to deal with such painful issues as agunah, the problem of the chained woman refused a get by her recalcitrant ex-husband, and mamzerut.

Rabbi Jacobs expressed the principles which he saw as guiding the application of Jewish law as follows: 'When halakhists formulating their legal theories apply arguments based on considerations that stem from general Jewish values, they are saying, in so many words, such-and-such must be the law; for if it were not, this or that significant principle of Judaism would have been overlooked or set aside. This would have been something quite intolerable to the halakhists who, after all, are not only academicians and theoreticians but believing and practising Jews alert to the demands that Judaism makes on the whole of life.'6

Of course, when it comes to the subject of prayer, the topic of the key essay reprinted here, the context is community par excellence. Rabbi Jacobs loved the synagogue and its liturgy. He was himself very musical, singing in synagogue choirs during his yeshivah years and even telling Shula on their first date that he rather liked jazz, a comment with which, though she recorded

6A TreeofLifo (1984) p. 13

12 Rabbi Wittenberg

that she knew that very day that she had met 'Mr Right', she was suitably unimpressed. He loved Minhag Anglia, the Anglo­ Jewish custom, by which he meant not only what he saw, perhaps more in fond hope than in reality, as the tolerant mode of British orthodoxy at least until the nineteen-fifties, but also the particular traditions and decorum of the service.

Indeed, for all his alleged departure from orthodoxy, or at least from what its representatives in England were prepared to accept, in the field of theology, here he was indeed a traditionalist. God always remained for him the personal Deity ofJewish tradition. The problem of pain and the acute challenge of theodicy, the question of God's justice here on earth, forced him rather to admit the limits of human understanding than to attempt to try to redefine God's powers. His faith was enriched by a quiet but profound love and knowledge of Jewish mysticism, particularly as expressed in the teachings of the Hasidic masters. Rather, as a man for whom the traditional liturgy had literally been as regular as his daily bread, he sought to explain its value, communicate its compelling beauty and hdp resolve such issues as the 'Jew in the pew' was likely to struggle with, including the questions of why pray in Hebrew, what it may actually mean to make requests of God and whether God really needs our praise. The essay is a thoughtful, learned, gracious and hdpful defence of the traditional liturgy.

Also included here are a chapter on community, republished from Religion and the Individual an article on Aliyot in general and an article on Hagbah and Gelilah, the public raising aloft of the Torah and its subsequent dressing, so as to end this collection on a typically uplifting note.

13 JEWISH PRAYER

JEWISH PRAYER

by

RABBI LOUIS JACOBS, B.A., Ph.D. first published as Minister, New West End Synagogue, London

Jewish Prayer By Jacobs, Louis Original Copyright© 1955 by Jacobs, Louis ISBN 13: 978-1-60608-237-9 Second Edition 1956 Third Edition 1962 Fourth Edition 2011, published by friends of louisjacobs.org JEWISH PRAYER

CHAPTER I

What is Jewish Prayer?

Prayer is a universal phenomenon in the soul -life ofman. It is the soul's reaction to the terrors and joys, the uncertainties and dreams oflife. "The reason why we pray, "says William James, "is simply that we cannot help praying. " It is an instinct that springs eternally ftom man's unquenchable faith in a living God, almighty and merciful, Who heareth prayer, and answereth those who call upon Him in truth; and it ranges ftom half-articulate petition for help in distress to highest adoration, ftom confession of sin to jubilant expression ofjoyfulfellowship with God, ftom thanksgiving to the solemn resolve to do His will as ifit were our will Prayer is a Jacob's ladder joining earth to heaven; and, as nothing else, wakens in the children ofmen the sense ofkinship with their Father on High. It is an "ascent of the mind to God''; and, in ecstasies ofdevotion, man is raised above all earthly cares and fears. The Jewish Mystics compare the action of prayer upon the human spirit to that of the flame on the coal % the flame clothes the black, sooty clod in a garment of.fire, and releases the heat imprisoned therein, even so does prayer clothe a man in JEWISH PRAYER a garment of holiness, evoke the light and fire implanted within him by his Maker, illumine his whole being, and unite the Lower and the Higher Worlds" (Zohar).

This fine description of]ewish prayer is that ofDr. J. ]. Hertz, the late Chief Rabbi of the British Empire, in the introduction to his commentary to the Prayer Book. Dr. Hertz favours the supernaturalistic interpretation of prayer. For him, prayer is an

16 What is Jewish Prayer?

attempt by man to get into touch with Ultimate Being, with a Reality whose existence is independent of his own mind. As a devout and traditionally minded Jew, Hertz cannot accept those modern theories which, while not denying the efficacy of prayer, prefer to explain its value in purely natural terms. In a penetrating paper, delivered before the Rabbinical Assembly of America, Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel, critically examines these theories and reveals their inadequacies.

The first theory criticised by Heschel is that of "religious behaviourism," according to which the chief value of prayer lies in its effect in successfully continuing the Jewish tradition. The synagogue prayers are the best means of keeping the sense of tradition alive and of forging a link between this generation and past generations of Israel. But, as Heschel remarks, "Wise, important, essential, and pedagogically useful as the principle of 'respect for tradition' is, it is grotesque and self-defeating to make of it the supreme article of faith."

A kindred notion is that which sees prayer as the identification of the worshipper with the group to which he belongs, it is the means of making the Jew aware that he is part of the people of Israel. This doctrine of prayer as a social act sees God as the epitome of the ideals ofthe group. But this is to equate a political phenomenon with worship. It is true that a Jew never worships as an isolated individual but as a part of the people Israel, yet it is within the heart of every individual that prayer takes place.

Finally, there is what Heschel calls the "doctrine of religious solipsism," according to which prayer is a subtle form of auto­ suggestion, it is addressed to" the good within ourselves." But is it really good for our psychic health to deny that God hearkens to prayer and yet pray "as if" He did because of the therapeutic

17 JEWISH PRAYER effects of prayer? Is it not an old-fashioned and short-sighted psychology to assume that duplicity could be good for one's health? The real issue of prayer is not prayer; the issue of prayer is God. One cannot pray unless he has faith in his own ability to accost the inflnite, merciful, eternal God.

This brief survey of Heschel's critique does not do justice to a most able exposition. The reader is advised to consult the original essay in the Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly of America, Vol. xvii, 1954. Here he will fmd, too, the opinion of a prominent member of the Reconstructionist school, Rabbi Eugene Kahn, who believes that, it is not so absurd as Heschel thinks to pray to God conceived as a" cosmic process." We shall have occasion to refer to the points raised in this controversy in the chapter on Praising God. It is as well, however, to note that the rejection of the natural theories as inadequate in themselves does not, of course, rule them out as supplementary reasons for the value of prayer. Jewish prayer does provide the Jew with a powerful means of identifying himself with his people and with its past. And the idea of praying to the good in ourselves is not entirely unknown in the traditional Jewish sources. It appears to be mirrored in the remarkably bold rabbinic statement (for long the target of critics of the Talmud, insensitive to its quaint wisdom) that God Himself prays-His prayer being: "May it be My will that My mercy may suppress My anger, and that My mercy may prevail over My attributes, so that I may deal with My children in the attribute of mercy and, on their behalf, stop short of the limit of strict justice" (Ber. ?a).

Prayer as a Duty.

Is the duty to pray of Biblical origin? Undoubtedly, there are many prayers in Scripture; most of the Biblical heroes pray; but

18 What is Jewish Prayer? is there a direct Biblical command that the Israelite should pray? The great Maimonides, in his Code of Jewish Law, answers in the affirmative, taking his stand on the rabbinic exegesis of a Biblical verse.

It is a positive precept to pray each day, as it is said: "And ye shall serve the Lord, your God ... "(Ex. xxiii, 25). Tradition teaches that the service spoken ofhere is prayer, as it is said: "And to serve Him with all your heart" (Deut. xi, 13). "What is service ofthe heart?" ask the Sages, "prayer! "But the number of the prayers and the form ofprayers are not Biblical nor is a fixed time for prayer enjoined in the Bible (Yad, Tef /, i).

Other eminent, medieval authorities cannot see eye to eye with Maimonides on this question. For them there can be no command to pray for the essence of prayer is its spontaneity. There is much truth in the saying that the Bible is God's gift to Israel, the Prayer Book is Israel's gift to God; though moderns would not wish to under estimate the human element in the Bible nor need we eliminate divine inspiration from the composition of the Prayer Book. In this connection a letter, written by Shneor Zalman ofLadi (1747-1812), the founder of the philosophical Habad movement in Hassidism, to a friend of the movement, is of interest.

For though the form of the prayers and the duty ofpraying three times a day is ofrabbinic origin the idea ofprayer and its essence is the foundation of the whole Torah. Namely, to know God, to recognise His greatness and His splendour with a serene and perfect mind and an understanding heart, that a man should concentrate on these thoughts until the rational soul is awakened to love God, to cleave to Him and to His

19 JEWISH PRAYER

Torah and to desire His precepts. 1

Ijpes ofPrayer.

There is more than one type of prayer. The earliest prayers were those of petition, in which God is entreated to grant man's request. There are, in addition, higher forms of prayer-the prayer of thanksgiving for favours received; the penitential prayer, asking God for forgiveness of sins; and the doxology, the prayer of praise.2

Generally speaking, while simple faith finds no difficulty in the idea of prayer, various thinkers have been vigorous in their attacks on prayer, their wrath being directed especially against the prayer of petition. In the Jewish sources, we find the philosophers trying hard to reconcile prayers for life, for health, for food, sunshine and rain, for possessions and many children, with the idea of a universe governed by law, while the mystics tended to look upon such prayers as a form of egoism. For these latter the self must be transcended in prayer but petitionary prayers call attention to the ego and its desires. Consequently, both philosophers and mystics prefer to dwell on the spiritual effects ofprayer and favour prayers ofadoration and thanksgiving to those of petition. However, all the types of prayer are found in the Prayer Book. In the next chapter the suggestions that have been made to defend the validity of petitionary prayer will be noted.

1 Quoted byTeitdbaum in Hatav Miladi, Warsaw, 1913, p. 213. 2 An account of the different types of prayer is given in the article on Prayer in the Universal Jewish Encyclopedia, Vol. VIII, p. 617.

20 What is Jewish Pmyer?

The Regulation ofPrayer.

There is bound to be some tension in the life of prayer between the idea of prayer as a spontaneous act, free from all conventional bonds, and the detailed rules and regulations that are inseparable from an established ritual of prayer. One of the counts registered against the Hassidim by their opponents was their neglect of the regulations governing the times of prayer. "The son can approach his father at any time of the clay," argued the Hassidim, "if his father loves him and he loves his father." But Dr. Hertz has well said:

The regulations concerning the minutiae of prayer are many: the opening treatise of the Talmud, Berachoth, is entirely devoted to the subject. Schurer and other Christian theologians contend that these regulations must have stifled the whole spirit ofprayer. But this is a controversial fiction; as ifdiscipline in an army, or laws in a country, necessarily suppressed patriotism. In fact, rule and discipline in worship increase devotion: without, them the noblest forms of adoration are unknown. The same is seen in the kindred realm of poetry. Elaborate schemes of metre and rhyme alone-witness the Greek poets, or Shelley, Goethe, Hugo­ seem to render the highest poetry possible. With it all none realised better than the rabbis the need for prayer to be true "service of the heart. " He who prays must remember before Whom he stands, they said; and it was neither the length, nor the brevity, nor the language ofthe prayer that mattered, but the sincerity. "The All-merciful demands the heart, " is their teaching.

21 JEWISH PRAYER

CHAPTERII

Does God Answer Prayer?

The Hebrew Prayer Book contains many petitions, most of them on behalf of the community rather than the individual worshipper, yet all assuming that God answers the prayers of those who pray to Him. Isaac Leeser writes:

God is not less omniscient because we are taught to pray to Him, nor is He less good because He awaits our humiliation before He grants us reliefi but we must assure in general terms that the expression ofour wants in prayer is one ofthe duties incumbent on us, in common with all others; a test whether we are obedient and thereby deserving the divine favours, or whether we are obdurate and therefore deserving the continuance ofthe evil which afflicts us, as a just recompense for our transgressing in not recognising the divine Tower, in whose hand alone our enlargement is placed (Quoted in the Jewish Encyclopedia, W,L x, p. 169).

On the other hand, most people know from personal experience how often the hope for a better future is frustrated and how the prayers of even a good man often remain unanswered. The Psalmist's cry of confidence: "I have been young and now am old; yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread" (Psalm xxxvii, 25), is convincing evidence of the strength of his faith in a moment of poetic enthusiasm. It cannot have been meant as a statement of observable fact for as such its contradiction is met with at every turn. Good men do go hungry at times with their prayers unanswered. The kind of solution advanced by Leeser that prayer is a test of obedience, is

22 Does God Answer Prayer?

too easy; the problem is far too complex to be casually dismissed in dogmatic fashion.

The problem belongs in part to the wider question-the most difficult question the religious person has been confronted with ever since men began to think about God-why do the righteous suffer? There is much speculation on this in Jewish sources but when all that can be said about it has been said the mystery remains. "If I knew Him I would be Him," wrote a medieval Jewish thinker. Only God Himself can know His plan and His purpose in full, only the Infinite can comprehend the Infinite. Man with his finite mind can obtain, at the most, only a glimpse of a tiny fragment of the truth. There is much in the observation that difficulties of this kind are inseparable from the conception of God that is Judaism's; man with his limited grasp is bound to find his under- standing of God's ways partial and inadequate. A religion whose adherents were not called upon to face problems of this nature would certainly be false, for the God Who is both transcendent and immanent, Who, in the words of the Jewish mystics, "fills all worlds and surrounds all worlds," cannot be contained in the mind of man. Yet, the consideration of the following points may contribute to an understanding of why it is expecting the impossible to expect that God should always answer prayer.

The first consideration is that men often pray for things they believe to be of benefit to them which in reality are harmful. Every person who prays knows of examples of this; when God has been entreated to grant a desire, to fulfil a wish, and when there has been acute disappointment when the request has remained unanswered, only for the worshipper to have later discovered that it would not have been to his advantage for God to have acceded to his request. It is said that a little girl prayed

23 JEWISH PRAYER repeatedly for a bicycle, without success. "You see," taunted her unbelieving friend, "God does not answer prayer." "Oh yes He does," answered the girl, "His answer was No!"

No! is also an answer. There is a legend told in the Talmud of a miracle-working saint, Haninah ben Dosa, whose prayers on behalf of others were frequently answered but who, in spite of the great poverty in which he lived, refused to pray for himsel£ One Sabbath eve there was no food in the house and, in her anxiety to honour the holy day in the accustomed manner with good food and drink, the wife of the saint implored him to pray for riches. Realising the justice of her plea, he entreated God to grant him wealth so that he would have greater opportunities of serving Him. Immediately, a hand reached down from heaven, holding a golden table leg which it gave to Haninah. That night he had a curious dream, in which he was escorted to Paradise, where he observed the righteous sitting at three-legged tables while he and his wife sat at a table with only two legs. On waking he told the dream to his wife, who urged him to pray that the golden leg be taken back. He did so and a hand reached once more from heaven and took the gift back again. The legend concludes with the observation that it was a greater miracle for the gift to have been taken back than for it to have been given in the first place.

A quaint but profound comment on the problems of human life-for, according to the religious view, what a man makes of his life matters far more than the situation in which he finds himsel£ Here is a man who though in desperate need he, though struggling constantly against bitter poverty, was able to pray for others and to inspire them with confidence and hope. Here is a man whose life was an eloquent testimony to the power of the human spirit and the indomitable human will. For such a man

24 Does God Answer Prayer? to have been blessed with wealth would have meant the raison d' etre of his existence being taken from him. His prayer for the material goods of life had to remain unanswered if he was to find his true fulfilment. Of how many artists, thinkers, poets, and saints, who starved in the pursuit of beauty, truth, and goodness, who preferred to go in want rather than debase their God-given talents, was this true? Their heroic struggle against adversity was an essential part of their greatness. Their lives were noble precisely because of their demonstration that the human will can win beauty of ugliness, truth of error, triumph of degradation, victory of defeat, and glory of squalor. They were like Wordsworth's Happy Warrior:

Who, doomed to go in company with Pain And Fear and Bloodshed miserable train! Turns his necessity to glorious gain.

For them, material success would have meant, in the words of the legend, that their table in heaven would have been unstable and incomplete.

The second consideration is that the interests of one human being may conflict with those of other human beings so that for God to answer his prayer means that He must refuse to answer theirs. Where the raincoat manufacturer prays for rain and the farmer for fine weather the prayer of one of them must go unanswered. Each person is naturally concerned chiefly with his own needs, his own desires, his own hopes, but God is concerned with the needs of all men. The illustration has been given of a fly on a Rembrandt painting whose progress is impeded by a blob of paint. The fly cannot see any purpose in that blob of paint, it only knows that there is an obstacle to its progress. But the human being who observes the painting from a distance knows

25 JEWISH PRAYER that without that particular blob of paint the picture would be incomplete. A man finds his hopes frustrated, he pushes against circumstances, he tries to escape from his burdens without success and God is silent to his entreaties. But man sees only a fragment of the truth. God alone sees it whole and He alone knows why those obstacles have to be there.

The analogy is, of course, far from perfect. For one tiling, the blob of paint, while of value from the human point of view, has no purpose whatsoever from the point of view of the fly, whereas the belief in a benevolent Creator implies that He is concerned with the fate of each one of His creatures. Yet, inexact though it is, the illustration does afford some little help in enabling us to see that many of our difficulties about God's silence in the face of supplication are the result of our inevitably restricted vision and that if only we could observe God's plan at work in its entirety we would understand His silence.

Mature consideration of this very difficult problem brings one to the realisation that, while we are not, in the religious view, at the mercy of blind irrational forces, but the children of a benevolent Father, we cannot hope to see, as it were, God's plan at work. For what would happen if every time We prayed to God our prayers were answered, if every time a sick person turned to Him in prayer he was healed, every time a needy person cried to Him for help he became wealthy, every time a foolish man entreated Him for understanding he became wise? Then not only would synagogues be crowded to capacity but there would no longer be any merit in synagogue attendance. From an act of worship, a demonstration of faith, a desire for communion with God, synagogue attendance would degenerate into a system of incantation in which thaumaturgy had replaced devotion. The mystics express this idea by speaking of God hiding Himself that

26 Does God Answer Pmyer? man may find Him, or, in other words, virtue must at times go unrewarded if man's freedom to choose the good is not to be taken from him.

The expressions in the liturgy that speak in terms of man pleading his cause before an undecided God, whom he seeks to influence, must not be taken too literally. God does not change His mind. "For He is not a man that He should repent" (I Sam. xv, 29). In the view of those who have given serious thought to this whole question of petitionary prayer, when men pray to God they ought to think in terms of coming nearer to Him; by bringing their requests to Him they ought to try to link their needs to His will. In this view the man who entreats God is saying in so many words: "I ask this of God and by asking it of Him I acquire the proper attitude to the request."

This is one of the answers to the question why pray at all if God knows all our needs in advance. The philosopher, Joseph Albo (c. 1380-c. 1445), in the section of his famous Book ofthe Principles ofthe Jewish Faith which deals with prayer, thus states this problem:

The reason which leads men to doubt the efficacy ofprayer is the same as that which leads them to deny God's knowledge. Their argument is as follows: Either God has determined that a given person shall receive a given benefit, or He has not so determined. If He has determined, there is no need ofprayer; and if He has not determined, how can prayer avail to change God's will that He should now determine to benefit the person, when He had not so determined before? For God does not change from a state ofwilling to a state of not willing, or vice versa. For this reason they say that right conduct is of no avail for receiving a gift from God. And

27 JEWISH PRAYER

similarly they say that prayer does not avail to enable one to receive a benefit, or to be saved from an evil which has been decreed against him (Ikkarim iv, 18).

God does know all our needs but by bringing them to His Presence we elevate them and this in itselfis an additional reason why they should be satisfied. To take the prayers for wealth and for knowledge, these are, in themselves, neutral things; they can be used for both good and evil ends. But by asking them of God, who wants man to use them for good, the request serves as a reminder of God's will so that its whole complexion is changed.

The man of prayer, if he is wise, does not imagine that his prayers can influence his life without reference to natural causes. The man of prayer has no quarrel with the natural processes of cause and effect revealed by science; his only plea is that the existence of a new dimension be recognised.

The true claim offaith is mainly, as Professor Maritain contends, that humanism should recognise two dimensions­ the vertical as well as the horizontal the Godward as well as the manward relationship. And this claim should be regarded, not as a basis for a forced diplomatic compromise, a reluctant concordat between incompatible rival powers, but as something dictated by the nature of reality (G. 0. Griffith in "Makers ofModern Thought," Land, 1948, pp. 17-18).

Finally, the point has been made that for the saintly person his needs are his excuse for confronting God in prayer. Whether or not his requests are granted the opportunity to address his Maker is for him the supreme privilege, much as an affectionate son welcomes the opportunity of discussing his problems with

28 Does God Answer Prayer? his father irrespective of whether a solution to them all emerges from the discussion. A rare individual of this kind is not bothered by the problems raised in this chapter. With Meredith he says: "Who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered."

In line with this thought, Rabbi]. L. Alter (1847-1905), the "Gerer Rebbi," in his commentary to Psalms, remarks:

Although it appears obvious that a man should pray when he is in need, but the truth is that the chiefvalue ofprayer is that the mind of the worshipper be on the prayer itself, not that the request be granted. For even when a man entreats God to grant his desire yet when he engages in prayer he shouldforget his needs and he affected solely by the praise of God. It may then happen that his request will he granted because it caused him to turn to God in prayer (Sefoth Emeth, Psalm xviii, 7).

The eighteenth-century Talmudist, Jacob Emden (1697- 1776), expresses this thought even more emphatically in the introduction to his commentary to the prayer book (the Jacob Emden Prayer Book is one of the most popular Jewish books of devotion, used especially by the Hassidim in their worship). The following free translation conveys the basic idea, but for Emden's skilful use of Hebrew- rhymed prose the reader must consult the original.

However, it is essential that you know how to he careful when you make supplication for man's needs. Godforbid that your intention should be for the gratification ofyour own desires, for this is self worship, of which God has no desire, indeed it is abho"ent in His eyes . ... Therefore, when a man asks ofGod his material needs, such as health, riches, peace, and other material perfections, his intention should be that

29 JEWISH PRAYER these will help him to serve his Creator, seeing that a man cannot properly serve God if he lacks the material goods of life, which are God-given aids for the aim he really desires­ the improvement ofthe soul

30 Praising God

CHAPTER Ill

Praising God

Even a cursory inspection of the Jewish Prayer Book is sufficient to show the prominent place the prayer of adoration occupies in it. In obedience to the old rabbinic ruling, the Jew recites the praises of God before he petitions for his needs. Among the many doxologies in the prayer book, is the Kaddish, the great prayer of sanctification recited by mourners in the spirit of faith which refuses to allow death to have the final word.

If prayers of adoration are exempt from the criticism levelled against petitionary prayers, they are responsible for difficulties peculiar to them. Does God need our praises? He, Whose perfection is above all perfection, Who lacks nothing, what can it mean to Him that human beings declare how wonderful He is? Would we not tire of a man who persisted in flattering us? These and similar questions are often asked, and it cannot be denied that the failure to discover an adequate reply to them is the cause of much of the defection from the habit of prayer.

The trouble is that we think of God in human terms - this, indeed, is the only way we can think of Him. When Voltaire said that God created man in His image and man returned the compliment he was only stating the obvious that ifwe are to think about God at all we must describe Him in anthropomorphic terms. But unless we make the mental reservation that God cannot really be so described - cannot in fact be described at all - we are in danger of distorting our religious outlook. On a tombstone in an English village there was found this comically pathetic inscription, indicative of the way many people think of

31 JEWISH PRAYER

God:

Here lies Martin Elbingrod Have mercy on my soul Lord God. As I would do were I Lord God, Andyou were Martin Elbingrod.

And long ago Xenophanes remarked:

The Ethiopians say that their Gods are snub nosed and black­ skinned, and the Thracians that theirs are blue-eyed and red­ haired. If only oxen and horses had hands and wanted to draw with their hands or to make the works ofart that men make, then horses would draw the figures oftheir Gods like horses, and, oxen like oxen, and would make their bodies on the model oftheir own. 3

Judaism has always sternly warned against die making of any image of God. Whenever the Talmudic sages hesitatingly attributed human qualities to God they called attention to the inadequacy of the description by the word kebheyakhol, "as if it were possible." The late Rabbi Kook, the first Chief Rabbi of Palestine, wisely said that the sceptic and the unbeliever fulfil a useful role from the religious point of view, for by their determined onslaught against the cruder notions of divinity commonly held, they compel religious people to re-examine their ideas and arrive at a more refined and more spiritual conception.

This does not mean that the idea of a Personal God cannot be upheld. To speak of God as an impersonal Force or Principle is to deprive His would-be worshippers of the urge to worship.

3 Quoted by Arnold J. Toynbee in A Study of History, Lond., 1935, p. 1.

32 Praising God

You cannot worship a cipher, said Chesterton. The God Jews worship is the God ofAbraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Who hearkens to the prayers of His servants, Who can be addressed as "Our father, our King," Who, in the words of William Temple, is more than personality, not less, Who is a He, not an It. A well known twentieth-century scientist has said:

I am not much concerned whether I agree precisely with you in my conception or not, for both your conception and mine, must, in the nature of the case, be vague and indefinite. If you, in your conception, wish to identify God with nature you must peiforce attribute to Him everything found in nature, such as consciousness andpersonality, or better, super­ consciousness and super-personality. For you cannot possibly synthesise nature and leave out of it its most outstanding attributes -those which you know that you yourselfpossess. Nor can you get these potentialities out of nature no matter how for back you go in time. In other words, materialism as commonly understood is an altogether absurd and utterly irrational philosophy, and is indeed so regarded, I believe, by most thoughtful men. 4

Or as Professor Heschel puts it, in the essay noted above, as a comment on the rabbinic text, inscribed above the ark in many synagogues: "Know before Whom you stand":

Before Whom. To have said before what would have contradicted the spirit of Jewish prayer. What is the most indefinite pronoun. In asking what, one is totally uncommitted, uninitiated, bare of any anticipation of an answer; any answer may be acceptable. But he who is totally uncommitted, who does not even have an inkling

4 The Autobiography of Robert A. Millikln, Lond., 1951, p. 309.

33 JEWISH PRAYER

of the answer, has not learned the meaning of the ultimate question, and is not ready to engage in prayer. If God is a what, a power, the sum total ofvalues, how could we pray to it? An '1" does not pray to an "it. " Unless, therefore, God is at least as real as my own self, unless I am sure that God has at least as much life as I do, how could I praf

Solomon lbn Adret (1235-1310), the famous Spanish Talmudist, said all that can be said about this question of the God Who is hidden but Whom we address in prayer, when he pointed out that the usual form of benediction addresses God in both the second and third person, "Blessed art Thou, 0 Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who has sanctified us by His commandments. . .. " This is to convey the thought, remarks Adret, that though man can know God through His deeds, His essence cannot be known.

Thus, the idea of praising God has to be understood in a more reflned sense than that God takes delight in His creatures telling Him how wonderful He is. Maimonides, the greatest Jew of the Middle Ages, goes so far as to teach that he who thinks of God in human terms has no share in the life to come. Abraham Ibn David, Maimonides' critic, refuses to follow him here, arguing that it is unreasonable to treat the Jew who entertains cruder notions of divinity as a heretic, for not everyone is capable of grasping the fact that the anthropomorphic Biblical and Rabbinic passages are not to be taken literally. 6 But, of course, in principle, Ibn David agrees with Maimonides that ideally only the more refined conception is permissible.

Maimonides quotes in this connection a well-known

5 The Spirit ofJewish Prayer, p. 162. 6 Yad, HU. Tesh. III, 7.

34 Praising God

Talmudic anecdote. A certain person, reading the prayers in the presence of Rabbi Haninah, said, "God, the great, the valiant, the tremendous, the powerful, the strong, and the mighty." The Rabbi said to him: "Have you finished all the praises of your Master?" And the parable is given of an earthly king, possessing millions of gold coin; he was praised for owning millions of silver coin; was this not really to dispraise him? Now, notes Maimonides, the Rabbi does not say: ''A king had millions of gold coin and he was praised as having hundreds" for this would imply that God's perfections though greater than those ascribed to men, are still of the same kind. The excellence of the simile "who possesses golden coins and is praised as having silver ones" is that this implies that human perfections cannot be applied at all to God. To Him they are defects.7

Why then praise God? What is the purpose of such praise? One of the reasons is that it is in this way that our minds are directed to higher ideals. By speaking of God as merciful, compassionate and just, man reminds himself that these qualities are worth making his own, that if he is to be God-like-and the imitation of God is the religious ideal-then he too must practise these virtues. The statement: "God is merciful" implies a belief that the universe is so constructed that compassion and kindliness and pity are absolute values and that for man to be in tune with life, at peace with the world and at peace with himself, he must cultivate these values. That the cruel and unfeeling and ungenerous person is a misfit out of tune with ultimate reality.

It goes deeper than this. God exists, but unless man recognises His existence and unless belief in His existence has some influence on man's life and character, then God does not exist for man. What is the meaning of the grand old Jewish doctrine

7 Guide, Part I, 59.

35 JEWISH PRAYER of Kiddush Hashem, the Sanctification of God's Name, if not this, that God only exists for man when man recognises His sovereignty? The Sages had their own way of expressing this idea that, in a sense, God depends upon man, just as man depends upon God. In the Pesikta of Rab Kahana, an ancient rabbinic Midrash, we read: "Ye are my witnesses, the Eternal speaks, and I am God"; Rabbi Simeon ben Yohai said: "If ye give witness unto me, then I am the Eternal. If ye be not my witnesses, then I am not the Eternal, as it were." 8

In a profound discussion of the difference between the acceptance of God's existence on philosophical grounds and His worship in religion, Dr. Leo Baeck wisely remarks:

The religion which man possesses rests therefore not simply on the fact that he recognises the existence of God. Rather do we find religion if we know that our life is bound up with something eternal if we feel that we are linked with God, and that He is our God. He becomes our God if we, as the old phrase has it, love Him, if we get from Him our trust and loyalty, our courage and our peace, if we are able to raise ourselves up to Him and pray to Him, if we lay ourselves open in our innermost being to His revelation and law. The manner in which we grasp and express this inner connection is always only in the form of a similitude, and only an expression ofthe human soul. Our praising, and our talking about, God, with their use of '1'' and "Thou, "shape the features of the personal, and our meditating concerning God, which employs the word '1!e, " forms the idea of Him. But whether we approach God with devout words of intimacy, or whether we wish to approach God by pure

8 See the flne article by Hugo Bergmann: "The Hallowing of the Name," in Commentary, March, 1952.

36 Praising God

thought, whether the idea or the personal tries to express itself the more forcefully, is essentially the same, ifonly we make as our very own that on which all turns, that for us He is the One, that He is our God. 9

There is a need to worship in the human breast. This need finds its expression in the abasement of the savage before his totem pole, as well as in more refined types of worship. And unless this need is directed to the worship of the Supreme Being, the Source of all goodness, it will emerge in such obnoxious forms as the deification of the State and the apotheosis of the dictator, as the history of modern totalitarian movements has shown. In the year 1913, J. B. Bury published his A History of Freedom ofThought, in which religion is attacked in the name of freedom. It is not without significance that, in his epilogue to the 1952 edition, H. J. Blackham feels obliged to point out that much has happened since 1913. He notes that psychologists, who have been the deadliest critics of the objective truth of religious dogmas, have also been witnesses to the necessity of religion, and that the leader figure of the political religions is a substitute for the father whom most people cannot do without and whom the traditional religions provides in a time-honoured and much safer and more satisfactory way.

There is the final point that this urge to worship is in itself a validation of faith in God, our belief is a reasonable consequence to be drawn from the very fact of striving. A recent writer on religious psychology refers in this connection to a picturesque Arabic legend. A dervish was tempted by the devil to stop calling on Allah because Allah did not answer, "Here am 1." An angel appeared to the dervish in a vision, with a message from Allah: "Was it not I who summoned thee to My service? Did I not

9 The Essence ofJudaism, Lond., 1936, pp. 94-5.

37 JEWISH PRAYER make thee busy with My name? Thy calling 'God' was my "Here am 1."

In that thou seekest thou hast the treasure found, Close with thy question is the answer found. 10

What has been said in this chapter on the need for a refined conception of the prayer of praise is not, of course, to disparage less sophisticated prayers or to deny that there can be something sublime in the simple faith of the man who praises God without being concerned about intellectual objections. Numerous are the sayings in the literature of Jewish piety that God loves the prayer of the unlearned uttered in the spirit of devotion. The following story from the Book of the Pious of Judah HeHasid (twelfth-thirteenth century) speaks for itsel£

There was a certain man who was a herdsman, and he did not know how to pray. But it was his custom to say every day: "Lord of the World, it is apparent and known unto you, that if you had cattle and gave them to me to tend, though I take wages for tending from all others, from you I would take nothing, because I love you."

Once a learned man was going on his way and came upon the herdsman, who was praying thus. He said to him: "Fool, do not pray thus."

The herdsman asked him: "How should I pray?"

Thereupon the learned man taught him the benedictions in order, the recitation of the Shema and the prayer, so that

1° From The Individual and His Religion, by Gordon W. Allport, Lond., 1951.

38 Praising God henceforth he would not say what he was accustomed to say.

After the learned man had gone away, the herdsman forgot all that had been taught him, and did not pray. And he was even afraid to say what he had been accustomed to say, since the righteous man had told him not to.

But the learned man had a dream by night, and in it he heard a voice saying: "If you do not tell him to say what he was accustomed to say before you came to him, know that misfortune will overtake you, for you have robbed me of one who belongs to the world to come."

At once the learned man went to the herdsman and said to him: "What prayer are you making?"

The herdsman answered: "None, for I have forgotten what you taught me, and you forbade me to say: "If you had cattle."

Then the learned man told him what he had dreamed, and added: "Say what you used to say." Behold, here is neither Torah nor works, but only this, that there was one who had it in his heart to do good, and he was rewarded for it, as if it were a great thing. For "the Merciful One desires the heart." Therefore, let men think good thoughts, and let these thoughts be turned to the Holy One, blessed be He.'11

11 From Nahum N. Glatzer's In Tune and Eternity, Shocken Books, New York, 1946.

39 JEWISH PRAYER

CHAPTER IV

Thanking God

Of the prayers of thanksgiving, the berachah, the benediction, usually beginning with the words: "Blessed art Thou, 0 Lord our God, King of the Universe," is the most common. The second-century teacher, R. Meir, said that the pious Jew should recite at least one hundred benedictions each day (Men. 43b). Maimonides divides the benedictions found in the prayer book into three groups. These are: the benediction for benefits received, i.e., grace before and after meals, and the blessings on smelling fragrant woods and plants etc.; the benedictions recited before the performance of religious duties ; and the expression of thanks for the wonders of nature, such as the blessings recited on observing lofty mountains or great deserts, on seeing a sage or a king and his court or on seeing the rainbow.

Apart from the benedictions to be recited by every Jew, a person who has some special reason for thanking God is expected to do so. We read in the Talmud that Rab Judah said in the name ofRab (third century): There are four classes of people who have to offer thanksgiving: those who have crossed the sea, those who have traversed the wilderness, one who has recovered from an illness, and a prisoner who has been set free (Ber. 5b). Following this, it is now the practice in the synagogue for one who has recovered from an illness, one who has travelled over the sea, whether by ship or by plane, and one who has been saved from a serious accident, to be called to the reading of the law, after which a special prayer of thanks is recited, its form being: "Blessed art Thou, 0 Lord our God, King of the Universe, who doest good unto the undeserving, and who hast also rendered

40 all good unto me." To this the congregation responds: "He who hath rendered thee all good, may he do only good unto thee for ever" (Singer's Prayer Book, p. 148).

The objection to praising God noted in the previous chapter can be levelled too against the idea of thanking God. What can He gain from our thanks? If, it is the essence of the Source of all goodness to benefit His creatures why should he require thanks for what He does? Do we not think more highly of the person who gives charity without thought of repayment than of the donor who eagerly awaits the grateful thanks of the recipients of his bounty? As in the case of praising God, the more satisfying interpretation here is that it is not so much that God requires thanks as that man needs to thank.

Thanking God has three chief advantages for man: it awakens in him a sense of gratitude and obligation, it reminds him to count his blessings, and it increases his appreciation of the good things of life.

First, the sense of gratitude and obligation. Judaism, it has often been remarked, teaches that life must be consecrated, not denied. There is nothing illicit in the enjoyment of material blessings but these should be looked upon as a divine trust, given that we may use it for good ends. This is one of the ideas behind such institutions as the Sabbath and the Sabbatical Year; by refraining, at times, from the exercise of his control over nature, man is reminded that God and not he is nature's master. The illustration has been given in this connection of a thoroughfare, which the owner permits the public to use, but which he closes one day in the year to demonstrate that they use it by permission and not by right. Similarly, the benedictions recited before the enjoyment of life's blessings are the recognition that these are

41 JEWISH PRAYER

God-given. The third-century, talmudic teacher, Levi, famed for his interpretations of Biblical verses, solved the contradiction between the verse: The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof (Ps. xxiv, 1) and the verse: The heavens are the heavens ofthe Lord, but the earth hath He given to the children of men! (Ps. cxv, 16), by suggesting that the first verse speaks of earth's blessings before thanks have been given to God for them (Ber. 35 a-b).

The second advantage of thanking God is that it makes us aware of our good fortune, it helps to remind us of the many things we have to be thankful for, it enables us the better to come to grips with our environment and accept our status in life. In the words of the great teacher, Ben Zoma, in Ethics ofthe Fathers: "Who is rich? He who rejoices in his portion" (Ethics iv, 1). Thanking God causes us to "rejoice in our portion."

This saying of Ben Zoma has often been misunderstood. It is not aimed against ambition as such. Provided that a man's aspirations are directed towards social aims, provided that, in his eagerness for a richer and better life, he does not use others as pawns in a selfish game of his own, a man's ambition can be innocent and may even be a force for good. Ben Zoma does not advise a man to be satisfied with his portion, but to rejoice in it-quite a different thing. He would hardly have subscribed to the sentiments expressed in the Victorian prayer of the menials:

God bless the squire and his relations, And keep us in our proper stations.

There is a certain kind of restlessness, a divine discontent with present conditions and a longing to bring about a better state of affairs, without which all progress would be impossible.

42 Thanking God

What Ben Zoma does advise is the cultivation of the serenity of mind that enables a man to take the trials and tribulations of life in his stride, to face his disappointments and misfortunes philosophically and avoid feeling frustrated when the world does not give him what he imagines to be his due. This teaching was finely underlined by Jacob Anatoli (1194-1258), who, preaching the wisdom of contentment, said: "If a man cannot get what he wants, he ought to want what he can get."

Is this a counsel of perfection? Is it really possible for a man so to attune himself to life that he can face all its vicissitudes with equanimity? Ben Zoma speaks of a portion, that is, if a man believes that his life is a God- given portion, if he believes, with the sages, that a man cannot touch that which is destined for his neighbour, that man can find the blessing of tranquillity. The ideal Jew faces life's misfortunes, not as the stoic whose indifference to suffering is born of scepticism and black despair, nor as the man of little faith who becomes crushed under the burden of pain, but as the saint who exclaims: "Whatever God doeth is for the best." And one of the means to acquiring the wisdom of contentment is to thank God for the many blessings He has given to us.

Thirdly, the prayers of thanksgiving we recite produce a heightened appreciation of life's worth. Hayyim Greenberg has forcibly expressed this view as follows:

The words of the Midrash (I cannot for the moment recall the source) sound constantly in my ears: 'The wicked is as one dead, even in his lifetime, for he sees the sun rise without reciting the blessing 'He Who formest light' he sees its setting without reciting the blessing' Who bringest on the evening twilight' he eats and drinks without thanking God. But the

43 JEWISH PRAYER

righteous thank God for whatever they eat and drink and see and hear. '' What does the Midrash mean? Surely the mere recitation of ''He Who formest light, "and ''Who bringest on the evening twilight" cannot infuse life into the righteous any more than the failure to recite them can deprive the wicked of life so that he should be 'as one dead. " The meaning of the Midrash is that the wicked is so dead spiritually that he cannot feel the need to recite the benediction and take delight in so doing; he is so dead that he cannot sense the mystery in the rising and setting ofthe sun, in the piece ofbread that he eats and the measure ofwater he drinks; he is unaware ofthe eternal/ink between these things and the whole ofexistence and with God Who dwells in this existence. The wicked is as one dead because he has lost the sense ofwonder, because he views the appearances of eternity as mundane happeningr. He sees the externals ofprayer without ever penetrating to the power hidden within it. 12

The benediction, the prayer of thanksgiving, is then a means of re-awakening our sense ofwonder at the miracle oflife and the marvel of the mysterious universe we inhabit, a means of raising man from the mundane, the prosaic, and the commonplace into the realms of the ideal and the eternal. Greenberg effectively supports this theme with the quotation from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees, takes offhis shoes.

12 Megilloth, May, 1953, p. 66.

44 The Use of Hebrew in Prayer

CHAPTER V

The Use of Hebrew in Prayer

The question of Hebrew as the language of prayer has for long been a bone of contention between Jews of different theological schools. To put the case against the almost exclusive use of Hebrew as fairly as possible why, it is frequently asked, should Jews whose mother tongue is English refrain from using this language when they pray? Why should authority insist that their prayers be offered in what is to them an unfamiliar tongue, one which, with the best will in the world, they cannot understand? Does not this insistence on Hebrew reduce the Synagogue prayers to an unintelligible gibberish without power to move or to inspire?

It should be noted that, strange though this may seem, no question of din, ofJewish law, is here involved. The official code of Jewish law, the Shulchan Aruch, rules that prayers may be recited in any language (Shulchan Aruch, Orah Hayim, 101, 4). In a careful study of this question, Morris Joseph, in his ]udaism as Creed and Life, while urging the retention of Hebrew for some of the prayers, especially those which proclaim the faith and hopes of Israel, favours the introduction of many more prayers in the vernacular on the grounds that the congregant should feel that he is no longer a mere spectator of rites which affect him only remotely and indirectly but a sharer in the Service. Joseph quotes the view of the devout author of the Book of the Pious (thirteenth century), who writes:

Ifone come to thee who doth not know Hebrew, and he is God-fearing and devout, direct him to pray in the language

45 JEWISH PRAYER

with which he is most familiar; for there can be no prayer unless the hearer understands, and if the heart knows not what the lips utter, what profit has a man ofhis worship?

Yet, despite these considerations, those who opposed the use of prayers in the vernacular, insisting that Hebrew be retained, were not all hide-bound conservatives, opposed to change as such. Many of them had a deeper insight into the realities of the Jewish situation in the modem world and the spiritual needs of present-day Jewry, than the advocates of vernacular prayer.

There are a number of sound reasons for the retention of Hebrew, the first being the obvious one that the prayers were compiled in Hebrew and that a translation, however good, cannot capture the full flavour of the original, This is, of course, true of all good literature, where the precise manner in which the ideas are expressed contributes as much to its understanding and enjoyment as the ideas themselves. It is even true that an ancient classic loses much of its force if translated into modem speech in the same language, as St. John Ervine in his witty essay on the modernising of Shakespeare reminds us. Ervine takes as an extreme example Hamlet's famous soliloquy:

To be or not to be: that is the question: Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows ofoutrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea oftroubles, And by opposing end them?

Render this into modern slang as: "For two pins I'd do myself in only I haven't the nerve" and the difference is at once seen. The meaning has not been radically altered but all the beauty of the original has been lost and only trite vulgarity remains.

46 The Use of Hebrew in Prayer

It is more than a question of capturing the original meaning. Hebrew is a language rich in association. Its words and phrases have been used so long by Jews that they have acquired, as it were, a life of their own. The profoundest thoughts of the Jewish mind, the deepest longings of the Jewish heart, the most intimate glimpses into the Jewish soul, are revealed in the Hebrew language. The Jew who prays in Hebrew is using the tongue of the prophets and seers of Israel, he is clothing his thoughts in the identical words of Judaism's great classical writings. The English translation of Torah and Mitzvah as "Law" and "Precept," for example, utterly fails to convey the warmth and comprehensiveness of the original terms and it cannot succeed in evoking the Jewish emotional response.

Hebrew is Leshon Hakodesh, the sacred tongue. It has aptly been described as "the language of prayer"; there is more than a little truth in the saying of the old Scottish divine that one ought to learn Hebrew so as to be able to address the Almighty in His own language! The legend tells of Pharaoh who knew all the seventy languages but who, being ignorant of Hebrew, prevailed upon Joseph to teach him this language, without success. For a man may be an expert linguist, he may be a Semitic scholar of distinction and yet miss altogether the spiritual power of Hebrew. Into this language are woven the basic concepts of Israel's undying faith. A remarkable tribute to this aspect of Hebrew was paid by a prominent non-Jewish Hebraist, the author of one of the best Hebrew Grammars, in his introduction to that work:

When the principles underlying the language-which are simple enough-are understood, it is found to be characterised by an altogether extra- ordinary regularity. Hebrew is methodical almost to the point of being mechanical The

47 JEWISH PRAYER

so-called irregular verbs, e.g,, are, for the most part, strictly regular, springing no surprises, but abundantly intelligible to one who understands fundamental principles. It is therefore of the utmost importance that the learner be at paim to understand those principles . . . and if he goes forward to the study of the language with a faith in its regularity, he will find its very phonetic and grammatical principles to be imtinct with something of that sweet reasonableness, that seme offair play, we might almost say that passion for justice, for which the Old Testament in the sphere ofhuman life so persistently and eloquently pleads.

In a footnote, the author, J. B. Davidson, quotes the striking words ofDeut. xvi, 20, "Justice, justice shalt thou pursue."

And what is true of the language of the Prayer Book is true of the Prayer Book itself. Theodor H, Gaster has finely said:

Throughout the ages, the Prayer Book has occupied a central position in Jewish life. More than a mere manual ofdevotion, it is-in a seme-Israel's personal diary, catching, as in a series of exquisite vignettes, the scenes and moments of her entire life, and recording, in a diversity ofmoods and styles, her deepest and most intimate emotiom. Here, for those who have eyes and ears, is Sinai on the one hand, and Belsen on the other; the gleaming courts ofthe Temple, and the peeling walls ofa Polish klaus; the blare of the silver trumpets, and the singsong of the Talmud student; the colonnaded walks ofa Spanish town, and the narrow, winding lanes ofSafed. Here is a Gabirol effortlessly bringing down the immortal to earth, and a Rhineland cantor scribbling his earthiness into immortality. Here is Luria panting desperately after the Celestial Chariot, and Kalir pinning the glories of God to

48 The Use of Hebrew in Prayer

an acrostic. 13

It is to history that we must go for a further reason for the retention of Hebrew. In the year 1845, a rabbinical conference was hdd in Frankfort to consider the question of changes in Jewish practice. This conference, dominated by the Reform party, voted that Hebrew was not essential to divine worship, whereupon Zecharias Frankd, the founder of the historical school in Judaism, withdrew from the conference. The majority of the rabbis present failed to understand why Frankd, who was by no means unaware of the need for changes, should be so concerned about what was, in their eyes, a minor adjustment, affecting no fundamental principle of the Jewish faith. Abraham Geiger alone understood Frankel's position, even though he disagreed with it. Geiger argued that language is a national matter and Judaism is a religion; it was wrong to attempt to tie down religious expression to any one language. In other words, early Reform opposition to the use of Hebrew in public prayer was a necessary corollary of its anti-nationalistic interpretation ofJudaism. According to Classical Reform theory, the Jews were not a nation; they were Germans or Frenchmen or Englishmen or Americans of the Mosaic persuasion, no different, except for their religious beliefs, from Catholic or Protestant Germans, Frenchmen, Englishmen, and Americans.

Judaism, in this view, is a set of religious affirmations and practices binding on the Jew but the particularistic aspect of historic Judaism, which thinks of the Jews as a nation, was outmoded. The ancient Messianic hope should be reinterpreted as referring to the spread of the Jewish ideal in Western Society rather than in terms of a national restoration ofthe Jewish people

13 "Modernising the Jewish Prayer Book," by Theodor H. Gaster, in Commentary, April, 1954

49 JEWISH PRAYER in its ancient homeland. It was this conception of Judaism that Frankel was obliged to reject.

The subsequent events of Jewish history-the rise of antisemitism, the destruction of a third of the Jewish people, the emergence of the State of lsrael-have caused Frankel's views to be shared by the majority of Jews. It is only right to mention that many Reform teachers have recognised that the Classical Reform position was a travesty of Jewish history and experience and have embarked on a complete re-thinking of their position in the light of the present-day situation. Most Jews today want to demonstrate the solidarity of the Jewish people and how better do this than by praying in Hebrew? Only the spiritually insensitive can fail to be moved by the grandeur of the idea of Jews in America, in Israel, in Mrica, in every part of the world, divided though they might be on many issues, unlike in many things, yet worshipping the same God and using the same language in that worship. "Thou art One, and Thy Name is One, and who is like unto Thy people Israel, one nation upon earth."

There is the further point that vernacular prayers, especially extemporaneous ones, do not only lack warmth and colour and soon become monotonous but they are almost always accompanied by an atmosphere of sanctimoniousness. Zangwill's description of the uncouth prayers in the little conventicle of the Sons of the Covenant, with its subtle blend of condescending pity and sympathy, yet manages, brilliantly, to convey the warmth of the traditional service.

They prayed metaphysics, acrostics, angelology, Cabbalah, history, exegetics, Talmudical controversies, menus, recipes, priestly prescriptions, the canonical books, psalms, love-

50 The Use of Hebrew in Prayer

poems, an undigested hotchpotch ofexalted and questionable sentiments, of communal and egoistic aspirations of the highest order. It was a wondeifulliturgy, as grotesque as it was beautifol; like an old cathedral in all styles ofarchitecture, stored with shabby antiquities and side-shows, and over­ grown with moss and lichen-a heterogeneous blend of historical strata ofall periods, in which gems ofpoetry and pathos and spiritual fervour glittered, and pitiful records of ancient persecutions lay petrified. And the method ofpraying these things was equally complex and uncouth, equally the bond-slave oftradition; here a rising and there a bow, now three steps backwards and now a beating of the breast, this bit for the congregation and that for the minister; variants ofa page, a word, a syllable, even a vowel ready for every possible contingency. Their religious consciousness was largely a musical box: the thrill ofthe rams horn, the cadenza ofa psalmic phrase, the jubilance of a festival '54.men" and the sobriety ofa workaday '54.men, " the Passover melodies, and the Pentecost, the minor keys ofAtonement and the hilarious rhapsodies of Rejoicing, the plain chant ofthe Law and the more ornate intonation ofthe Prophets-all this was known and loved, and was for more important than the meaning of it all, or its relation to their rea/lives; for page upon page was gabbled offat rates that could not be excelled by automata. But ifthey did not always know what they were saying, they always meant it. Ifthe service had been more intelligible, it would have been less emotional and edifying. There was not a sentiment, however incomprehensible, for which they were not ready to die or to damn (Children ofthe Ghetto).

Whatever else this is it is not moribund or dull and the modern Synagogue has preserved its freshness and vitality in so

51 JEWISH PRAYER far as it has retained some of these modes, even while it has rightly rejected the more grotesque.

In the "days of faith," when the prayers were compiled, they were, of course, contemporaneous; the earlier prayers, at least, were expressed in language that people used in their daily lives. But there is much to be said for the view that in our more unimpressionable age prayer requires a more " remote " a more " traditional " language, if it is to avoid both the familiarity of the curate, who began his extemporaneous prayer with: " Dear God, you have read in this morning's newspaper, ... " and the monotony that is inseparable from the frequent repetition of words in common use. As Robert Gordis says:

While prayers in the vernacular were urged on the grounds that they added greater meaningfulness to the service, in practice they created a new and unexpected complication. Hebrew prayers chanted in the traditional manner could be repealed at almost every occasion without producing a sense of monotony in the worshipper. In the first instance, the traditional congregant was an active participant in the ritual instead of being a member ofa silent audience. The mass chanting and swaying might not be very decorous by W£stern standards. It had the virtue, however, ofbeing alive. The old psychological principle of " no impression without expression "embodied in Jewish prayer made the experience emotionally vibrant and satisfYing. Second, the characteristic musical modes and Scriptural cantillations, which differ with the varying occasions of the year, served to create a distinct mood appropriate to the day and added variety and interest, even when the text remained the same. 14

14 "A Jewish Prayer Book for the Modem Age," reprinted from Conservative Judaism, Vol. II, No. 1, October, 1945, p. 4.

52 The Use of Hebrew in Prayer

It has more than once been convincingly demonstrated that those Jewish communities in the past who, for one reason or another, neglected Hebrew, even though they possessed prolific writers and thinkers on Jewish themes in other languages, doomed themselves to extinction and eventually vanished entirely from the Jewish scene without leaving any lasting impression. Two thousand years ago, there existed a flourishing Jewish community of over two million souls in Alexandria. In an amusing talmudic account of the size of the great basilica, used for prayer, it is said that this was so large that a special functionary was obliged to stand near the reader with a flag in his hand, which he would wave when the reader came to the end of a benediction, so that those near the door would know when to answer Amen. The prayers in that and in the other Alexandrian synagogues were recited in Greek; even the sacred scrolls were written, not in Hebrew, but in Greek. The result of this was that Alexandrian Jewish thought had hardly any direct influence on the subsequent development of]udaism. Its greatest thinker, Philo, was unknown to the mainstream of Jewish tradition. There is no definite reference to him in the talmudic literature: the first Jewish writer to mention him by name was Azariah de Rossi, the Italian Jewish humanist, writing as late as the sixteenth century.

This lead to perhaps the most important consideration of all, the pedagogic value of Hebrew as the language of prayer. It must be admitted that many people are making a real sacrifice when they pray in Hebrew. Every Jewish minister in English-speaking lands knows devout people who would derive far more from the synagogue service if more English was used in the service. Yet a Jewish saint once said that the Jewish expression for self­ sacrifice, mesirath nephesh, can mean "offering up the soul," that is, at times spiritual as well as material, sacrifices have to

53 JEWISH PRAYER be brought in the defence of faith. And the sacrifice involved in the retention of Hebrew is a worthwhile one for it is precisely this insistence on Hebrew that provides a tremendous impetus for its study. It is the use of Hebrew in prayer, the traditional Bar Mitzvah ceremony, conducted in Hebrew, which encourage parents who are at all interested in the Jewish education of their children to have them introduced to the study of the language at an early age. At this late hour, when Hebrew is once again a living language and when there is renewed interest in it everywhere, it would surely be a retrograde step to use any other language in the service of the synagogue. The knowledge of the Hebrew language unlocks the doors of the Jewish spiritual treasure­ house. As has been said of Greek in a somewhat different sense, the knowledge of Hebrew provides the key to Paradise.

54 The Technique of Prayer

CHAPTER VI

The Technique of Prayer

The talmudic rabbis attached a great deal of importance to Kavvanah in prayer. Kavvanah, from a Hebrew root meaning "to direct," is the direction of the mind to God, the act of concentration on the meaning of the prayers and the awareness that the worshipper confronts God and is confronted by Him when he prays. Those ancient Jewish teachers were sufficiently realistic to recognise that the art of concentration in prayer is not easily mastered and they accordingly ruled, and their ruling was followed by the later Codes, that it is not necessary to repeat prayers recited without Kavvanah, provided that the first verse of the Shema (the Jewish declaration of faith) and the first benediction of the Amidah (the silent prayer, recited while the worshipper stands) were recited with Kavvanah. But this was a minimum demand. The ideal was that of proper concentration during all the prayers; that, in the words of the rabbis in a similar situation, "the heart and lips should egree," "piv velibo shavvim."

In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence ofthe heart. (Herrick.)

When wood burns it is the smoke alone that rises upwards, leaving the grosser elements below. So it is with prayer. The intention (Kavvanah) alone ascends to heaven, (Besht)

"Prayer without Kavvanah," the old saying has it, "is like a body without the soul." "We must bear in mind," writes Maimonides, in his Guide for the Perplexed, 15 "that all such

15 iii, 51.

55 JEWISH PRAYER religious acts as reading the Law, praying, and the performance of other precepts, serve exclusively as the means of causing us to occupy and fill our minds with the precepts of God, and free it from worldly business; for we are thus, as it were, in communication with God, and undisturbed by any other thing. If we, however, pray with the motion of our lips, and our face toward the wall, but at the same time think of our business; if we read the Law with our tongue, whilst our heart is occupied with the building of our house, and we do not think of what we are reading; if we perform the commandments only with our limbs, we are like those who are engaged in digging in the ground, or hewing wood in the forest, without reflecting on the nature of those acts, or by whom they are commanded, or what is their object. We must not imagine that in this way we attain the highest perfection: on the contrary, we are then like those in reference to whom Scripture says, "Thou art near in their mouth, and far from their reins" Qer. xii, 2).

One of the best-known rabbinic works on Judaism is Isaiah Horovitz's (b. Prague c. 1555; d. Safed c. 1628) Shene Luhoth Hab'erith (generally abbreviated to Shelah), "The Two Tablets of Stone." In this work, in the section dealing with prayer, the author quotes from an earlier work a number ofaids to devotion. Few would deny that for the contemplative virtues it is to men like Horovitz that we must go, men who had the time, the patience and the inclination to engage in spiritual exercises in a manner beyond the reach of most men in our more hectic age.

The first aid to concentration that Horovitz speaks of he calls Torah. If, he says, a man devotes some of his time to the study of the Torah, if he gives some thought to his faith, if he practises his Judaism in his daily life, he will be better equipped for the life of prayer than the man who comes to his prayers from a world in

56 The Technique of Prayer which spiritual values are remote. In this connection the verse in Deut. xxxii, 47 is quoted: "For it is no vain thing for you," upon which the Rabbis comment," If it is a vain thing, i.e., if you can see no value in the Torah, then it is you who are to blame." Or, as someone once said, synagogues are only empty if people are empty!

It is paradoxical but true that only those Jews really appreciate the value of the synagogue and of prayer for whom Judaism is far more than the synagogue and prayer. It is recorded in the Talmud that when a Babylonian Rabbi saw that his friend was taking too long over his prayers he accused him of " neglecting eternal life and engaging in temporal life," because the time spent in long, drawn out prayer could have been far better employed in the study of the Torah. This is not to minimise the value of prayer but a reminder that, in the name of prayer itself, the faith of the Jew must be co-extensive with life itself if it is to have an effect on his devotional life. Horovitz would certainly have subscribed to the saying that important though it is to build synagogues for Jews it is even more important to build Jews for the synagogue.

A prominent American Jewish layman, a fine Jewish scholar and writer, said this to a conference of Rabbis some years ago:

I am not angry at a few who does not attend synagogue. I am not angry at a few who does not pray. I want to know why doesn't he go to synagogue; why doesn't he pray? /fit's merely a humra (a special act ofpiety), then I don't want to pray. But ifgoing to the synagogue is not a humra, but it is joy oflife and ifprayer enriches me then without your reminding me I'll go to synagogue, I'll pray.

WC are confronted here not merely with the problem of

57 JEWISH PRAYER

desertion. It's not desertion. A few, or any other human being for that fact, who does not know what it means to have an hour ofsolitude, who doesn't know what to do with himself when he remains alone for an hour or two; ifhe has nothing to say to himself, only to others; if he hasn't developed the gift ofcontemplation-what makes you ask that few to be a professing, courageous few when he is empty, when he has no capacity for experiencing things? It's a therapeutic question, and, from that point of view, I don't recognise a rabbi if he is not a healer, if he cannot perform a therapeutic and educational task.

The question is not about asking Jews back to synagogue. There is something preceding, something prior to that question-how to awaken in that few the sense of values which he has lost, and, when the sense of values has already been reawakened in him, how to link up that sense ofspiritual values with fudaism, with the specific values offudaism. 16

Horovitz's second aid he calls hiddush, "renewal." The reference is to the need for avoiding monotony in prayer by bringing variety and freshness to the services. A talmudic ruling is followed here, in which it is stated that if a man wants to offer after an additional prayer, after he has recited the statutory ones, he may only do so if he is able to introduce some fresh petition, otherwise his voluntary offering is mere mechanical repetition. What Horovitz suggests is that every time prayer is offered, an attempt should be made to link it with some current event in the life of the worshipper. In the prayer for health, for example, the mind should be directed towards a sick person one

16 Hayyim Greenberg in an address ddivered at the forty-sixth annual convention of the Rabbinical Assembly ofAmerica, Proceedings, Vol. X, 1947, p. 274.

58 The Technique of Prayer knows, in the prayer for peace the mind should dwell on the present difficult world situation, and so on. Thus, the element of topicality would make the prayers more vital so that it would be easier to concentrate.

This leads him to the third aid-Tzorech, "need." The man who is in need, he who has drunk deeply of the cup of suffering, finds no difficulty in concentrating when he entreats his Maker to remove his pain. The Psalms, the most exquisite gems in the world's devotional literature, were all composed by men whose needs were great; witness the number of times such words as "the poor," "the afflicted," "the needy," occur. The Psalmists pray to God out of the straits or out of the depths.

The Psalmist says: "Out of the depths I cry unto thee, 0 Lord.,, What relation is there between "the depths" and "Lord"? When there is neither depths, nor horror, nor despair, man does not see God and does not call to Him. (Lev Shestov)

Most people have needs and ought to find no difficulty in concentrating on them when bringing them before God. But what, continues Horovitz, of the rare individual who feels that he lacks nothing. Let him consider his spiritual needs, replies the author. Let him pray for wisdom, for nobility of character, for the strength of will to conquer his failing. Let him pray for those less fortunate than he. Let him pray for God to remove suffering from Israel and from all mankind. Pious Jews of old even rose to the spiritual heights of prayer on behalf of God Himself, as it were. Of praying, as they called it, that the "Exile of the Shechina (the Divine Presence)" be brought to an end; that the Presence should once again rest on the Holy Land and that all men be brought nearer to His service. Schechter once said that hostile critics may do their worst in belittling Israel's contribution to

59 JEWISH PRAYER religion, this is something they cannot explain. The picture of a Jew of the old school, often in dire need himself, yet rising at midnight to pray for the exile of the Shechina to cease.

The next point Horovitz deals with is the use of Hebrew in prayer. He frankly confesses that it is far more difficult to concentrate when praying in Hebrew than when offering prayers in a more familiar tongue. Seeing that we do not think in Hebrew, a constant effort of the will in concentration is required when prayers are offered in this language. The author refers to the practice in his day of reciting some of the lamentations on the fast of Ab in Yiddish, the vernacular of sixteenth-century Jews in Poland, and how much easier it is to concentrate when these are being recited. However, his solution is not that Hebrew be discarded as the language of prayer. The weighty reasons for its retention have been noted above. What he does advise is that, if it is at all possible, Hebrew should be used by Jews in their daily conversations so that it becomes habitual for them to think in Hebrew. A mere pious hope this in those days but increasingly possible of realisation, nowadays, when Hebrew is a modern language and has become sufficiently flexible to express all the familiar thoughts and ideas. The acquisition by Jews of Hebrew as a second language provides them not only with a valuable flnk with the State of Israel but serves as a tremendous aid to concentration in prayer.

Some of the other points the author refers to have to do with decorum in the synagogue and the cultivation of the proper devotional atmosphere. Where these are present, concentration is easier; where they are absent, it becomes exceedingly difficult. Unlike many of the Polish Rabbis of his day, Horovitz does not approve of the practice of shaking at prayer, considering this a distraction. Nor does he approve of vociferous prayer; a

60 The Technique of Prayer gentle, almost inaudible tone is a definite aid to concentration. Following the ancient Rabbis, he quotes the verse describing Hannah's prayer as his authority for the meditative value of quiet prayer: "Now Hannah, she spoke in her heart; only her lips moved, but her voice could not be heard ... " (I Sam. i, 13). It follows that Horovitz, and all the great masters of the art of prayer, would strongly have disapproved of the habit of engaging in conversation while the prayers are being read, the old argument that the synagogue is the house of God and the Jew feels "at home" there, notwithstanding.

The two final points made by Horovitz have to do with preparation for prayer and that the worshipper should allow himself ample time in which to pray. First, preparation. The ancients knew the secret of prayer because they understood the value of preparation. The Mishna is the first great Code of Jewish law, compiled by Rabbi Judah, the Prince, about the year two hundred of the common era. This work is more than a code of law in the narrow sense; it contains teachings about almost every aspect of Jewish life. Teachings given in the Mishnah, the standard authority for Jews, have additional importance in Jewish eyes. Consequently, seeing that the need for preparation in prayer is enjoined in the Mishnah, this was looked upon as essential. The Mishnah, in its first tractate, has this to say:

None may stand up to say the Tefillah (i.e., the statutory prayer, the Amidah) save in sober mood. The pious men of old used to wait an hour before they said the Tefillah, that they might direct their heart toward God. (Ber. v. I)

As a supplement to the Mishnaic teaching, the Talmud quotes this contemporaneous source:

61 JEWISH PRAYER

Our Rabbis taught: One should, not stand up to say the Tefillah while immersed in sorrow, or idleness, or laughter, or frivolity, or chatter, or idle talk, but only while rejoicing in the performance ofsome religious act. (Ber. 31a)

''A modern American poet has described his art as one in which you prepare yourself for a poem to happen, in which you expose yourself to inspiration, while having made sure beforehand to acquire the techniques for making the most of the inspiration when it comes. This is true of the art of prayer" (Robert Langbaum). Louis I. Newman, in his Hassidic Anthology, tells of a man who was not a Hassid but who desired to witness for himself the behaviour of the Apter Rabbi, who had a great reputation as a man of prayer. The man visited the Apter synagogue, and found the Rabbi buried in thought and smoking his pipe. He dared not interrupt the Rabbi, but recited the morning prayers to himself, and then took a book and studied in it for some time. When noon came and the Rabbi made no movement to begin his Morning Prayers, the visitor whispered to him: "Rabbi, the time for the Morning Prayers is past." The Apter replied: ''A man like you is satisfied to enter the synagogue and to commence his worship immediately. As for myself, it is different. I began the order of prayers earlier than you with the words: 'I give thanks before Thee' (the first words the devout Jew says on rising), and I began to think: 'Who am I to give thanks before the Lord?' I am still thinking of the same matter."

Finally, there is what Horovitz calls "time," the need for freedom during prayer from the tyranny of time, the ability to forget worldly preoccupations in the synagogue, the attempt to inhabit, albeit for a short space of time, a world in which the eternal matters more than the transient. There can be no real

62 The Technique of Prayer concentration in prayer with one eye on the clock. One of the most precious things the synagogue can give to the Jew is an opportunity for assessing the value ofthe life he leads, a breathing space to recollect his thoughts, a means of rediscovering his potentialities for good, amid the hurry and stress of what has become normal existence for twentieth-century man.

Horovitz concludes with a very human touch. There are two kinds of people, he remarks, the mithkavnim, those who concentrate in prayer, and the mithnahagim, those for whom synagogue attendance is a mere pious habit. The latter are in the majority and the author, in his humility, prays that he should not belong to this group, though he very much fears that he does. Which sensible observation will be re-echoed by anyone who has ever striven to master the technique of prayer. One of the great Jewish saints observed that the most important prayer is the prayer to be taught how to pray!

63 JEWISH PRAYER

CHAPTER VII

Congregational Prayer and the Synagogue

"Why bother to come to the synagogue for prayer? If I want to I can pray just as well at home! " This is no new question. The talmudic rabbis faced it squarely over flfteen hundred years ago. There is a remarkable passage in the Talmud (Ber. 6a) in which it is said that if ten people (a minyan, the quorum for congregational prayer) pray together the Divine Presence is with them. But, continues the Talmud, even if one man sits and studies the Torah the Divince Presence is with him. And the obvious question is asked-if the Divine Presence is with less than ten what is the signiflcance of ten, why all the insistence in Jewish tradition on a minyan? If a man can commune with his Maker in solitude why should he worship together with others? The answer contains the whole philosophy of congregational worship. "To a gathering of ten," say the Rabbis, "the Divine Presence comes flrst; to less than ten it does not come till afterwards."

In other words, while it is possible for a man to pray anywhere, while God can be worshipped outside the synagogue, it is much more difficult if the atmosphere of devotion has to be created by a man's unaided efforts, if he is unable to draw on the spiritual power provided by the living example of his fellows. On his own a man has to be in the mood for prayer; he has to struggle to get in tune with the Inflnite amid the many distractions of modern life. In the words of the Talmud, the Divine Presence comes to him afterwards, after the kind of preparation that is beyond the spiritual means of most people today, unless it be in exceptional circumstances, such as when a man is in trouble or in need. But

64 Congregational Pmyer and the Synagogue

in the synagogue, in which generations ofJews have poured out their hearts in worship and in which many like-minded people pray, the atmosphere is there. The religious emotions cannot fail to be stirred by the beauty of the music and the edifice, by the warmth and fervour of the worshippers, and, above all, by the feeling that the worshipper is not alone. As Friedrich Heiler17 puts it:

The prayer ofthe congregation is meant to lift the individual to a higher stage of devotion. Narrow self-seeking wishes should be silenced in the presence of the congregation. The little and the weak who come to the meeting with low and earthly thoughts, should be carried to heights of religious yearning, should pray as the strong and creative pray; those who do not know what true prayer is, should here learn to pray and practise the art.

Phillip Brooks says much the same thing:

A multitude ofpeople gathered for a special purpose and absorbed for the time into a common interest has a new character which is not in any of the individuals which compose it. Ifyou are a speaker addressing a crowd you feel that. Ytlu say thing.r to them without hesitation that would seem either too bold or too simple to say to any man among them ifyou talked with him face to face. Ifyou are a spectator and watch a crowd while someone else is speaking to it, you can feel the same thing. Ytlu can see emotions run through the mass that no man there would have deigned to show or submitted to feel ifhe could have helped it. , .. Canning used to say that the House ofCommons as a body had better taste

17 Prayer (translated by Samud McCorab, D.D.), Oxford University Press, 1932, p. 306.

65 JEWISH PRAYER

than the man ofthe best taste in it, and Macaulay was much inclined to think that Canning was right. 18

As usual, the talmudic rabbis had their own effective way of expressing it. In the words of the Talmud quoted above, where a congregation gathers in prayer, the Divine Presence is there first.

Human beings have always looked upon large gatherings of people as a means of paying homage to a person or an idea. An empty synagogue is depressing because it implies that only the few congregants assembled are interested in prayer. A crowded synagogue, on the other hand, implies that Judaism is precious in the eyes of many people who assemble to participate in the expression ofloyalty to its ideals. This idea, that the more people who participate in an act of worship, the more dignified that act becomes, was elevated by the Rabbis into an important principle, supported by the Biblical verse: "In the multitude of the people is the King's glory'' (Proverbs, xiv, 28). This is the reason given in the Talmud for the ruling that the Shofor should be blown on Rosh Hashanah during the second part of the service, when more people are likely to be present. For the same reason it was forbidden to sell a synagogue from a larger to a smaller town.

It remains, of course, true that private prayer has great value. Indeed, the evidence supports the view that congregational prayer as we know it today was a post- Biblical development and that the prayers found in the Bible are chiefly individual ones. Heschel, in the essay referred to earlier, writes:

It is true that a few never worships as an isolated individual but as a part ofthe people Israel Yet it is within the heart of every individual that prayer takes place. It is a personal duty,

18 Lectures on Preaching, Loud., 1904, pp. 183-4

66 Congregational Prayer and the Synagogue

and an intimate act which cannot be delegated to either the cantor or to the whole community. WC pray with all Israel and everyone of us by himself Contrary to sociological theories, individual prayer came first, while collective prayer is a late phenomenon which is not even mentioned in the Bible.

Yet the Rabbis were so convinced ofthe heightened significance of synagogual prayer that they praised it in the most elaborate terms. The following are some typical rabbinic comments on this subject:

Abba Benjamin said: a man's prayer is heard ono/ in the synagogue (Ber. 6a). Rabin, son ofR Adda in the name ofR Isaac said: Ifa man is accustomed to attend synagogue and one day he does not go, the Hoo/ One, blessed be He, makes inquiry about him (Ber. 6b ). R. Helbo, in the name of R. Huna, says: Whosoever has a fixed place for his prayer has the God ofAbraham as his helper. And when he dies, people will say ofhim: The pious man is no more, the humble man is no more, one ofthe disciples ofour father Abraham R Helbo, in the name ofR. Huna, says further: When a man leaves the synagogue, he should not take large steps. Abaye says: This is ono/ when one goes from the synagogue, but when one goes to the synagogue, it is a pious deed to run. For it is said: Let us run to know the Lord (Hosea vi, 3). (Ber. 6b.)

R Isaac said to R. Nahman: Why does the master not come to the synagogue to pray? He said to him: I cannot. He asked him: Let the master gather ten people and pray with them? He answered: It is too much trouble for me. Let the master ask the messenger ofthe congregation to inform him ofthe time when the congregation prays? He answered: Why all this? He

67 JEWISH PRAYER

said to him: For R. johanan said in the name ofR. Simeon b. Yohai: What is the meaning ofthe verse: But as for me, let my prayer be made unto Thee, 0 Lord, in an acceptable time (Psalm Ixi-x, 14). When is the time acceptable P When the congregation prays (Ber. 7b-Ba}.

It is unnecessary to dwell at length on the importance of the synagogue in Judaism or of the influence of the synagogue on Christian and Moslem worship. "The synagogue represents something without precedent in antiquity; and its establishment forms one of the most important landmarks in the history of religion. It meant the introduction of a mode of public worship conducted in a manner hitherto quite unknown, but destined to become the worship of civilised humanity'' Q. H. Hertz). The oldest extant account of a synagogue service is given in Philo's account of the Essenes.

In fact they do constantly assemble together, and they sit down with one another, the multitude in general in silence, except when it is customary to say any words ofgood omen, by way ofassent to what is being read. And then some priest who is present, or some one ofthe elders, reads the sacred laws to them, and interprets each ofthem separately till eventide; and then when separate they depart, having gained some skill in the sacred laws, and having made great advances toward piety. 19

Wherever Jews wandered their first concern was to build a synagogue. According to the Zohar, the command to build a sanctuary includes the duty of erecting a synagogue. A scholar, says the Talmud, must not reside in a town in which there is no

19 C. D. Yonge: The Works of Philo Judxus, iv, p. 217£, quoted by Salo Baron in The Jewish Community, Vol. I, p. 89

68 Congregational Prayer and the Synagogue synagogue. Among the many details found in the early sources concerning the construction of the synagogue are that it must be higher than the other buildings of the town; that it should stand in the highest part of the town; that it should contain an ark and a raised platform, from which the law is read; and that it should have windows, so that the worshippers can see the heavens, or, according to some commentators, so that the light can enter. Apart from such details, great freedom is left to the architect. "There is no flxed form of synagogue architecture," remarks the famous eighteenth-century rabbinic authority, R. Ezekiel Landau, in a Responsum.

The Rabbis insisted on decorous behaviour in the synagogue. "Synagogues must not be treated disrespectfully," they say. "One may not eat or drink in them, nor dress in them, nor stroll about in them nor go into them in summer to escape the heat and in the rainy season to escape the rain." Some of the later authorities go so far as to rule that it is forbidden for a father to kiss his child in the synagogue so as to avoid any demonstration of human affection in a place dedicated to the worship of God. It is further taught that the synagogue should be well lit and kept perfectly dean. As a token of respect the worshipper should bow towards the ark on entering and leaving the synagogue.

Traditionally, the synagogue fulflls an educational, as well as a devotional, function. It is the house of learning as well as the house of prayer, It is for this reason that such importance is attached to the reading of the Torah during the service on the Sabbaths and Festivals.

Now, in these synagogues, prayer, though an essential element ofworship, formed only one ofits component parts. Instruction in the Law complemented prayer in the order of

69 JEWISH PRAYER

service. For worship, ]ewishly conceived, is the service ofthe heart, which is prayer, supplemented by the joy ofthe heart, which is Torah. Accordingly, the synagogual liturgy, we find, is more than a book ofprayers; it is essentially a manual of divine worship, comprising many prayers of adoration, thanksgiving, and petition, but abounding likewise in vital religious instruction. Impressive recitals of the salient facts ofsacred history and solemn reiterations ofthe fundamental principles ofthe faith find their place, alongside ofthe purely devotional elements, in the service. And so, too, the reading from the Scroll with the subsequent interpretation of the passage read, came to form as much a part ofworship as the prayers and meditations. 20

In short, by setting aside a place in which to worship, by repairing there frequently to replenish his spiritual powers, by learning there what his faith has to teach about life and its meaning, and by meeting there with like-minded fellows to encourage him and to strengthen him in his resolves, the Jew "ascends the mount of the Lord." He comes into contact with a world of elevated values and though he may soon come down to earth again he is the better for having been on the heights.

There is much comfort in high hills, and a great easing of the heart. We look upon them, and our nature fills with loftier images from their life apart. They set our feet on paths of freedom, bent To snap the circles of our discontent.

The synagogue can do this for the modem Jew who learns, as his ancestors did, to revere it and make its ideal his own.

20 Israel Bettan: Studies in Jewish Preaching, Cincinnati, 1939, p. 5.

70 ALIYOT in the sources and in the service

Louis Jacobs Reprinted from The Masorti Journal No 2 1990 ALIYOT

One often hears arguments about which of the aliyot confers greater privilege. According to the Talmud (Gittin 59a-b), there was so much contention over the aliyot in ancient times, members of the congregations vying with one another to be called up first, that rules were laid down 'for the sake of peace' (mipnei darkhei shalom). Judging by what has happened in synagogallife since then, the rules were not always successful in preventing quarrels; occasionally, indeed, the rules themselves became a source of contention.

People have often protested that it is absurd to quarrel over such petty matters but the other side of the coin is that something more than pettiness may be involved. lfJews have to quarrel, it can be argued, let it be over the right to be called up to the Torah, even though the self-seeking motive is rarely absent.

Nevertheless, it is good that in the majority of present-day congregations too much controversy is avoided by adherence to the rules. These are the rules as stated in the talmudic passage.

A Kohen is called up first, a Levi second, an Israelite third. The point here is that the first and second aliyot, as the beginning of the reading, are the choicest and these are, therefore, given not to people with claims of personal worth but of 'aristocratic' birth. No one will say: 'Why is he so worthy to be given the highest honour?', since it is not he as a person that is being given the honour. Evidently, in this earlier period there was little contention over the fourth to the seventh aliyot since once the reading had commenced with the two 'best' there was no special significance to one over the others. Yet soon problems arose even here.

We learn (G/Wn 59b-60a) that the Galileans sent an inquiry

72 in the sources and in the service to R. Helbo (third century): 'Who is to be called up after the Kohen and Levi?' R. Helbo did not know (!) so he asked R. Johanan who gave the order as: Kohen, Levi, a parnas (the term for a leader of the community), a scholar who is qualified to be a communal leader (i.e. even though he was not one in face), after that the son of a parnas, after chat a head of the synagogue, and then members of the general public. This statement obviously reflects social conditions in Eretz Yisrael in the third century, and the Shulhan Arukh ( Orah Hayyim 136: 1) adapts it slightly so as eo conform to practice in the 16th century: 'On the Sabbaths, Festivals and Yom Kippur, after the Levi, there are those qualified eo be communal leaders (Isserles' gloss explains the qualification as the ability eo render decisions in every branch ofJewish law!) and after them the sons of scholars, after them the heads of synagogues and after them the general public. This, too, reflects a situation in which only distinguished scholars were chosen to be leaders of the community.

Later on the custom became widespread of buying the aliyot, i.e. paying for the privilege; the money going to the upkeep of the synagogue or to charity. Thus the 17th century commentator to the Shulhan Arukh Abraham Gumbiner (Magen Avaraham ad loc.) states: 'In places where the aliyot are sold one can call up whoever one wishes, provided no one is insulted by being given less than che honour that is his due'. We can imagine how hard it must have been to decide whether everyone was being treated in the manner he felt was his due.

Eventually, however, it became the custom to leave it all entirely to the discretion of the gabbaim (the 'wardens' of the synagogue). A list of hiyyuvim (those entitled eo be called up) was drawn up. As recorded in the Kiczur Shulhan Arukh of Rabbi Solomon Ganzfried (78: 11), these are the hiyyuvim: I) a

73 ALIYOT bridegroom on the Sabbath before the wedding; 2) a bar mitzvah (these two have equal entitlement); 3) a father who names his baby girl in the synagogue; 4) the father of a baby boy who has already been named at the brit; 5) one who has yahrzeit (for a parent). Rabbi Ganzfried adds, a guest to the synagogue. And, nowadays, aliyot are given to people celebrating some special event, a wedding anniversary or a seventieth birthday and the like. This causes extra headaches to the gabbaim who, in addition, have to try to satisfY the claims of non-hiyyuvim to be called up occasionally at least. The custom has consequently developed of adding to the seven aliyot. While this may be unavoidable at times, it is not generally to be encouraged because of tirha latzibur ('bothering the congregation') i.e. unduly prolonging the service. The Jewish teachers usually had concern that the service should not be boring and time-consuming.

Is there any specially 'choice' aliyah? There is a reference to this in the Shulhan Arukh but not as we might have expected, in the section on reading the Torah, but in that on the laws of mourning (Yoreh Deah 400: 1). The principle is that a mourner during the shiva should not be called up but if he is given a particular aliyah on all other Sabbaths he should be called up for that aliyah even during the shiva; otherwise it would amount to public mourning, forbidden on the Sabbath. The Shulhan Arukh therefore states that Rabbenu Tarn, Rashi's famous grandson, insisted on being called up for the third aliyah (shelishi) even during his shiva since he always received that aliyah. On the basis of this, in some communities the town rabbi was always given shelishi and, in any event, this aliyah came to be considered the choicest. However, in the responsa collection of R. Simeon b. Zemah Duran (1361-1444) of Algiers, a different version is given (Tashbetz, vol. 11, no. 76) according to which Rabbenu Tarn was always given not shelishi but revi'i, the fourth aliyah,

74 in the sources and in the service

Unless this is a copyist's error, the preference for revi'i is probably because this is the first of the additional aliyot on the Sabbath (the shelishi aliyah is given on weekdays as well).

Duran also records that Asher b. Yehiel, the famed Rabbi ofToledo in the 14th century, known as the Rosh, insisted on being given the fifth aliyah {hamishi). A curious reason is given. Many people were reluctant to be called up for hamishi because the number five has no 'partner', i.e. I + 9 = 10; 2 + 8 = 10; 3 + 7 = 10; 4 + 6 = 10, but five can only go into ten by adding another five. In order to demonstrate the folly of such superstition, the Rosh insisted on being called up to hamishi and in some communities it then became a status symbol to be called for the 'Rosh's aliyah'. Among the Hasidim, the rebbe is usually given the sixth aliyah (shishi).

There is a kabbalistic reason for this preference. The ten Sefirot, the powers in the Godhead, according to the kabbalah, are divided into three higher and seven lower. The sixth one of the lower Sefirot is called Zaddik and this is the name given to the rebbe. Hence, since each aliyah corresponds to one of the Sefirot, the Zaddik aliyah is given to the 'Zaddik' on earth, that is, the rebbe. There are also references to the final aliyah being especially choice in that with this one the reading is concluded.

Nowadays, when it is normally the practice of people to read the Haftarah themselves, it has come to be considered a special honour to be called up for Maftir.

So, all having been said, while the traditional rules and their elaboration should not be ignored by the gabbaim, ultimately it must be left to their discretion and their ability to please all the members of the congregation. Forlorn hope!

75 HAGBAHAH AND GELILAH

Reprinted from the New London News

Journal of the New London Synagogue

Vol. 2. No. 9. SEPTEMBER 1971 HAGBAHAH AND GELILAH

Hagbahah ("lifting") is the name given to the rite of elevating the Sefer Torah. The Talmud understands the rite to be a symbolical representation of Israel's need to support the Torah, to raise its teachings proudly aloft. By holding the Scroll open for all to read we declare that Judaism is no mystery religion. We have no secrets, we say in so many words when we perform Hagbahah. This Torah is not only for the spiritually elite or even for the scholars alone. le is the heritage of the whole congregation of Israel. In an early post Talmudic source it is stated: "The Scroll should be lifted up so that the writing is shown to the whole congregation, eo chose at the back and to those in front, eo chose on the right and to chose on the left, for it is a religious obligation for both men and women eo see the writing."

From the sources it is not clear whether Hagbahah is to be carried out before the reading of the law or after the reading. Opinions were divided on this question. The argument of the before-reading people was that it is logical to display what is about to be read. The rather strange argument ofthe after-reading people is given chat so many folk attach greater significance to looking at the Torah than eo the actual reading of it that it is best to leave Hagbahah to the end so that the congregation will be obliged to stay behind in order to witness Hagbahah. Nowadays the Sephardi custom is to perform Hagbahah before the reading while the majority of Ashkenazim perform it after the reading, as we do in our Synagogue. Some extra-pious congregations, we are cold, perform it both before and after the reading and thus get the best of both worlds. On the other hand, we are also told, some congregations abolished Hagbahah altogether either because they did not wish eo cause unnecessary bother eo the congregants {sic) or, surely more plausibly, because they were afraid that the Scroll may be dropped.

78 How much of the Scroll should be displayed to the congregation? The above mentioned source rules that three columns of the writing should be displayed. The correct custom is for the person who performs Hagbahah to turn with the Scroll in a clockwise direction, holding the Scroll high in the air so that it can be clearly seen. The congregation stands while Hagbahah is being performed. The Kabbalists declare that, where possible, one should actually read the words of the Scroll to oneself while it is being held aloft and then "a great illumination of soul will result". During Hagbahah it is customary to recite the verse: "And this is the Torah which Moses set before the children of Israel" (Deuteronomy 4:4). (Incidentally, as can be seen if one looks it up, the verse did not originally refer to the whole of the Torah but to the particular torah or law recorded in that passage). It is curious that in the Ashkenazi rite the words "according to the commandment of the Lord by the hand of Moses" are added as if they were part of the same verse whereas, in fact, they form the ending of a different verse (Numbers 10:13). The Codes state that Hagbahah should not be given to one whose hands are shaking or to an old or weak man. The knack is, of course, first to lower the Scroll down from the reading desk and then to lift it. The Sephardim have a special guild of men who are qualified by training to perform Hagbahah. G. W. Whitehill remarks in his guide for Sephardi Parnasim: "The Mitzvah of Levantar (raising the Sepher, or Hagbahah) is reserved for members of the Society ofLevantadores, elected by the Elders. They must pass a test as to their proficiency before election".

Gelilah ("rolling" or "folding") is the name given to the rite of folding up the Scroll, binding it and dressing it with its mantle, bells and pointer. The seam between the columns should be in the centre after the two halves of the Scroll have been rolled together and the Genesis half should be placed above the other

79 HAGBAHAH AND GELILAH hal£ We learn from the sources that it was the custom for the same person to perform both Hagbahah and Gelilah but it is our custom to give each of these to a different person on the principle that it is a good thing to divide up the honours. There is a passage in the Talmud which implies that to be given the mitzvah of Gelilah is to receive a greater honour than to be given any other mitzvah connected with the Sefer Torah, an aliyah, for example. However, when (as is our custom) Hagbahah is performed by one person and Gelilah by another the person who performs Hagbahah is considered to have been given the choicest mitzvah. Thus, far from it being considered something of a slight to be given Hagbahah or Gelilah (as, alas, some imagine) traditionally these are the highest honours. However, it is only fair to say that some authorities argue that all this only applied in Talmudic times when it was the custom for Gelilah to be carried out by the last of the persons called to the reading of the law so that he had, in fact, both an aliyah and Gelilah.

Nowadays, these authorities argue, it is more an honour to be given an aliyah than to be given Hagbahah or Gelilah. Even if this argument is accepted it does not alter the fact that Hagbahah and Gelilah are a privilege and should be treated with the respect they deserve. Since Gelilah is comparatively easy to perform, many authorities see no harm in it being given to children under the Bar Mitzvah age. Some indeed advocate this in order to train the young people in the performance of the mitzvoth.

Mention should perhaps be made of the not uncommon practice on Simchat Torah of skillfully crossing the hands while per forming Hagbahah so that when the Scroll is elevated the half that is to the left on the reading desk is on the right when elevated and the writing is displayed facing the congregation. This example of one-up-man ship is frowned upon by some

80 authorities. Those who see point in it do so on the basis of the famous saying in Ethics of the Fathers "Turn it (the Torah) and turn it over again, for everything is in it, and contemplate it, and wax grey and old over it, and stir not from it, for thou canst have no better rule than this".

81 COMMUNAL OBLIGATIONS

From Religion and the Individual, first published by Cambridge University Press 1992 COMMUNAL OBLIGATIONS

Each individual, apart from his relationships with other individuals and in his family, has group affiliations of one sort or another. The closest of these wider associations, so far as Judaism is concerned, is the Jewish community as a whole - 'Am Yisrael - and this, in turn, is divided into particular communities, each of which is known as the Kehilah ('assembly') or, in Eastern Europe, the Kahal. Another name for the community in a particular place is the tzibbur. In modern times the tzibbur often consists of the smaller unit organized around a particular synagogue. To take the example of Anglo-Jewry, an individual may belong to a particular synagogue, to which he pays membership dues, and the synagogue may be affiliated to a particular movement, Orthodox or Reform or Liberal or Masorti. Each individual Jew is, in turn, part of the wider Anglo-Jewish community, represented by the Board of Deputies. As a Jew, he is also a member of the Jewish people with duties and responsibilities to Jews everywhere but especially in the State of Israel, which, of course, has its own national structures. Human nature being what it is, tensions are bound to arise between the individual, with his own interests, and the communities of which he is part, as they will arise between the smaller units and the greater. 1

In the tightly knit Jewish communities in the middle ages, there was little possibility for the individual to free himself from communal control. In addition to the powerful social disapproval of dissent and approval of conformity, in extreme cases the community could impose the herem, the dreaded ban, to make the non-conformist virtually an outcast until

1 See S. W. Baron, The Jewish Community, Philadelphia, 1945, and my article, 'Judaism and Membership', in J. Kent and R. Murray (eds.), Intercommunion and Church Membership, London, 1973, pp. 141-53.

84 he submitted. 2 Nowadays, the ban is never invoked, except perhaps among tiny extremist circles. And social approval and disapproval are effective only in a community the individual does not join of his own free choice and which he cannot freely leave if he is dissatisfied. Moreover, generally speaking, Jewish communities are conducted on democratic lines,3 each member having a vote, although, it has to be said, in the majority of Orthodox synagogues there is no women's suffrage so that the female individual member does suffer disadvantages. But this latter belongs to the more general question, much discussed and debated nowadays,4 of sexual equality in Judaism.

As for membership of the Jewish people, the legal position is that this can never be forfeited, even if the individual Jew gives up all religion or embraces another religion. In the middle ages a Talmudic passage5 was relied upon to convey this idea of once a Jew always a Jew. The Talmudic passage is a comment on the verse, 'Israel hath sinned' Qoshua 7:11). Since the verse does not say 'the people hath sinned' but 'Israel hath sinned' (Israel being a more elevated title than ' the people'), the conclusion is drawn:' even when it has sinned Israel remains Israel'. In the middle ages, this originally purely homiletical saying, was extended to mean that an Israelite always remains an Israelite

2 On the herem and other methods of coercion in the Jewish community see D. M. Shohet, The Jewish Court in the Middle Ages, New York, 1931, chapter 7, pp. 133-50; article 'Herem' in EJ, vol. viii, pp. 344-55. 3 On the degree to which democratic procedures were followed in the ancient and mediaeval Jewish communities see Baron, Jewish Community, index 'Democracy'. 4 On the subject of women's rights in modern Judaism there is now a vast literature. Here we need only refer to Susannah Heschel (Id.), On Being a Jewish Feminist, New York, 1983; and, for the historical background, Judith Romney Wegner, Chattel or Person, New York, 1988. 5 Sanhedrin 44a.

85 COMMUNAL OBLIGATIONS come what may. 6 It has been said,? that the Jewish community is a club which it is almost impossible to resign from. But this is not strictly correct. Whatever the purely legal view, the majority of Jews do consider membership of the Jewish people to have lapsed when an individual voluntarily surrenders his Jewish identity. And, of course, a non-Jew, who freely chooses to become a member of the community, once he has undergone the conversion procedures, is a full member of the community. 8

If the club analogy is to be used and is not too banal, it can all be put in this way. Judaism is like the philosophy of a club with a particular purpose over and above the purely social. The founder members of the club all belong to the same family as do the majority of its present-day membership but membership is open to all who accept the club's particular philosophy. Full membership is granted to these after a solemn initiation ceremony and they then enjoy full rights and privileges. The club's constitution contains a large number of strict rules. Some ofthe members adhere lovingly to these and tend to look askance at the members who disregard the rules. Other members press for a revision of the rules and still others quietly neglect some of them. Once a person has become a member, he is held to be a member for life, even if he no longer pays his dues, attends meetings or obeys any of the rules. He is a member in absentia and will always be welcomed back. It is only when he joins a club which has a contrary philosophy that his fellow members consider his membership to have lapsed.

6 See the acute analysis by J. Katz, 'Though he Sinned, he Remains an Israelite' (Heb.), in Tarbitz, 27 (1958), pp. 203-17. 7 The remark is attributed to George Steiner in Stephen Brook, The Club, London, 1989,p. 11. 8 See Yevamot 47a on the proselyte who returns to his pagan ways after his conversion to Judaism.

86 The individual's quest for identity in the face ofvast impersonal forces is assisted by the stress on community in Jewish life. Even the most fervent 'loner' diminishes himself unless, on the happy and tragic occasions in his life, he can give expression to his deepest emotions in the group to which he belongs; meeting his God, if he is religious, through participation in the religious ceremonies of that group. The institution of the minyan, the quorum often required for some of the Jewish prayers and rituals, is intended for this very purpose. A Jew marries in a congregation, he rejoices in a congregation when he is blessed with children and when he is laid to rest his son recites the Kaddish in a congregation.9 Even the Jewish mystics, craving for an intense personal relationship with their God, felt the need to organize themselves into brotherhoods10 to assist them in their quest. Even 'loners' appear to have a need to be 'joiners' at times. In this area, as in the others we have considered, the individual can feel his need for solitude threatened by his association with others but sanity demands not that he seeks to live as if only he existed but that he looks upon the group to which he belongs as helping him in his individuality. Needless to say, an individual should seek to belong, as far as is possible, to a group of like-minded people, which is why for example, the Hasidim became split into different sects or groupings, each with its own philosophy. The Karliner Hasidim used to render the hymn, 'Happy are we, how good is our portion, how pleasant is our lot, how beautiful is our heritage', 1/ow good is our portion since we are Jews and not Gentiles; how pleasant is our lot since we are Hasidim and not Mitnaggedim; how beautiful is our heritage 9 Some Orthodox Rabbis hold that a daughter, too, may recite the Kaddish (see, e.g., Jair Hayyim Bacharach, Responsa Havvot Tair, Frankfurt, 1699, no. 222). 10 E.g. the mystic brotherhood in Safed. See S. Schechter's study of this brotherhood in his Studies in Judaism, Philadelphia, 1945, 2nd Series, pp. 202££

87 COMMUNAL OBLIGATIONS since we are Karliner Hasidim and not Hasidim belonging to other groupings within the movement.'

In the Rabbinic literature in particular the strongest emphasis is placed on the tzibbur, the community. Typical of the Rabbinic view are the statements about the tzibbur in tractate Avot ('Ethics of the Fathers') of the Mishnah. In a saying attributed to Rabban Gamaliel, son of R Judah the Prince, the ideal relationship between the individual worker for the community and the community he serves is expressed: 11 Let all who labour with the community labour with them for the sake of Heaven [i.e. not in order to gain power over others]. For the merit of their fathers is their support, and their righteousness stands for ever. And as for you [who work for the community] I grant you reward [God says] as if you had done it [on your own without the support given through the merit of their ancestors].' Travers Herford12 is not far off the mark when he paraphrases this as:

None is to live for himselfalone, or benefit by others without benefitting them in return. Every one therefore who 'works with the congregation' is to do so with no selfish motive, but Jor the sake ofheaven: as a service rendered to God. What he does, with or on behalfof the congregation, is their act not his individual act; but the unselfish service thus rendered meets with the divine approval as ifit were his own act.

Hillel is quoted as saying, 13 'Do not separate yourself from the community' and, while undoubtedly there is in all this emphasis on the community a stern warning against sectarianism, Travers

11 Avot2:2. 12 R Travers Herford, Sayings ofthe Fathers, New York, 1962, p. 42. 13 Avot2:4.

88 Herford14 is here too conjectural when he suggests that Hillel is thinking of the Essenes, warning against a flight into the wilderness. In all probability these injunctions were directed against Jews, otherwise pious and observant, who tended to curry favour with the Gentile authorities at the expense of the Jewish community. It cannot be accidental that Rabban Gamaliel, after stating, as above, the need to work for the community, continues15 with, 'Be cautious in your dealings with the government, for they do not make advances to a man except in their own interest. They seem like friends at the time when it is advantageous for them, but they do not stand by man when he is in trouble.' The idea of working with a community 'for the sake of Heaven' is also expressed, in slightly different form, in a saying16 attributed to R Johanan the sandalmaker: 'Every assembly which is for the sake of Heaven will be established and that which is not for the sake of Heaven will not be established.' In all probability, the reference here is not to the Jewish community as a whole but to a meeting arranged for communal purposes, where there is the danger of personal interest and the lust for power gaining the upper hand. An anonymous saying in Avot17 has it:

Everyone who makes many virtuous, no sin will result from his actions. But everyone who makes many sin, no opportunity will be given to him to repent. Moses was virtuous himself and he made the many virtuous, and their virtue is ascribed to him, as it is said· 'He executed the righteousness of the Lord and his judgement with Israel' (Deuteronomy 33:21). jeroboam the son ofNebat sinned and caused the many to

14 Saying.r ofthe Fathers, p. 45. 15 Avot2:3. 16 Avot4:11. 17 Avot5:18.

89 COMMUNAL OBLIGATIONS

sin; the sin of the many is ascribed to him, as it is said: ' The sin ofJeroboam who sinned and made Israel sin. '(Kings 14:16}

Especially when the community is in trouble - from famine, for example - it is necessary for the individual to pray with them for their deliverance and to associate himself with them even if he himself faces no danger. The verse 'And unto Joseph were born two sons before the year offamine came' (Genesis 41:50), is made to yield the teaching that one must refrain from conjugal relations in years of famine. However, it is said, people who have no children may perform their marital duty even in years of famine; 18 a good example of the way in which the Rabbis tried to bring about the correct balance between the individual and the community to which he belongs and in whose distress he must share. In the same Talmudic passage 19 we read:

Our Rabbis have taught: Ifan individual separates himself from the community when the latter is in distress, the two ministering angels that accompany every man, place their hands upon his head and sa~ such and such a man has separated himselffrom the community, let him not live to witness the comfort ofthe community. Another teaching has it: When the community is in distress a man should not sa~ I will go home, eat and drink, andpeace will be on my souL If he does, Scripture says ofhim: :And behold joy and gladness, slaying oxen and killing sheep, eating flesh and drinking wine-"let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we shall die"' (Isaiah 22: 13). Now, what are the words which follow this verse? :And the Lord ofhosts revealed Himself in mine ears,

18 Ta'anit lla; Henry Maker, The Treatise Ta'anit ofthe Babylonian Talmud, Philadelphia, 1928, p. 74. 19 Ta'anit lla; Maker, Ta'anit, pp. 74-5.

90 surely this iniquity shall not be expiated by you till ye die: .. A man should therefore afflict himself with the community, for thus we find that Moses afflicted himselfout ofsympathy with the community, as it is said: 'But Moses' hands were heavy and they took a stone andput it under him, and he sat thereon' (Exodus 17: 12). Now did not Moses have a cushion or a pillow to sit upon? But Moses said: 'since Israel is in trouble, I shall share in their distress:

In a particularly virulent denunciation it is said20 that, among other extreme sinners, whose who have abandoned the ways of the community, those who 'spread their terror in the land of the living' (based on Ezekiel 32:2) and those who sin and make others to sin, like Jeroboam son ofNebat and his fellows, will go down to Gehinnom and be punished there for all generations. The expression ' those who spread their terror in the land of the living' is explained as a communal leader who makes himself unduly feared not for the sake of Heaven. There are echoes in this of the twin dangers that must often have faced the Jewish community. On the other hand, there were those who refused to have anything to do with the community but, on the other hand, there were those who were only too anxious to lead the community in order to enjoy dominion over others.

The supremacy of the community is to be seen in the principle laid down in Rabbinic law that no law can be imposed on the community unless a majority of its members can abide by it. After the destruction of the Temple, for instance, it was ruled that while some mourning rites had to be imposed these had to be restricted, otherwise the law would be too much of a burden on the community.21 Again, after the destruction of the Temple

20 Rosh ha-Shanah 17 a. 21 Bava Batra 60b.

91 COMMUNAL OBUGATIONS and the devastations caused by the wars against Rome, it was said that all cattle breeding should be forbidden because of the harm the cattle could cause to the newly planted shoots. Nevertheless, only small cattle were placed under the prohibition since it was not too difficult to import these. To ban large cattle would have been to impose a rule on the community which the majority of their members could no not accept. 22

Members of a particular community were expected to contribute financially to the upkeep of the communal institutions, usually by a system of taxation but, in addition, by voluntary contributions. 23 In many synagogues, individual members became permanent seat- holders, paying for the privilege. In Temple times, of course, donations for the upkeep of the Temple were made and free-will offerings brought in addition to the obligatory sacrifices. 24 The prayer for the congregation in the traditional prayer book25 reads:

May He who blessed our fathers, Abraham, Isaac and ]acob, bless all this holy congregation, together with all other holy congregations: them, their wives, their sons and daughters,

22 Bava Kama 79b. C£ :Avodah Zarah 36a. 23 The locus classicus for communal taxation and voluntary contributions is Bava Batra 7b-n a. 24 Donations of money and goods for the upkeep of the Temple are known as bedek ha-bayit,' the repair of the house'; free-will offerings for the altar are known as nedarim, 'vows', and nedavot, 'gifts'. Each individual was also expected to contribute to the perpetual offering, the tamid, known as a korban tzibbur, 'a communal offering'. Of relevance to our theme is the statement in the Talmud, Menahot 65a, that the Sadducees held that an individual could offer to defray the cost of the perpetual offering but the Pharisees held that the offering had to be from the Temple funds to which the people as a whole contributed. 25 The Authorised Daily Prayer Book, ed. Simeon Singer, London, 1962· p. 203.

92 and all that belong to them; those also who establish synagogues for prayer, and those who enter therein to pray; those who give the lamps for lighting, wine for Kiddush and Habdalah, bread to the wayfarers, and charity to the poor, and all such as occupy themselves in faithfulness with the wants ofthe congregation.

Human nature being what It IS, many generous donors wished to record their gifts in the form of a plaque or inscription recording that A had given this or that object to the synagogue. To this day such a name can be seen on the walls of the old synagogue in Cordoba and it appears to have been the regular practice in mediaeval Spanish synagogues. An early reference to the practice is found in the Responsa collection of the Rabbi of Barcelona, Solomon ibn Adret (c. 1235-c 1310), the Rashba,26 who first states the question and then gives his reply:

Question. 'You ask: Reuben owned a house adjacent to the synagogue which, after some discussion with the members, he wished to donate for the enlargement of the synagogue. They came to an agreement and it was done. But now Reuben wishes his name to be recorded at the entrance to the synagogue so that his name will be remembered. Some members of the synagogue object to it. Please inform me ifthey have a right to object.' Reply. 'I cannot see how the members of the community can or should object for a number of reasons. For when someone dedicates to Heaven that which belongs to him or builds something, paying for it himself, who can prevent him having his name recorded since no one has a right to prevent another from making any stipulation he wishes when donating such gifts. Furthermore, it is the custom to do it in that community and we find Barcelona also records the names of donors on the walls of the synagogue.'

26 Responsa Rashba, Lemberg, 1811, no. 581.

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The Rashba proceeds to quote from the sources that it is right and proper to acknowledge those who carry out good deeds. The Torah records it when Reuben savedJoseph (Genesis 37:21) and when Boaz helped Ruth (Ruth 2:14). The Talmud27 tells of how Jose b. Joezer consecrated a loft full of denarii and his son sold to the Temple a pearl of the value of thirteen lofts of denarii but they only had seven so the son donated the remainder to the Temple and they recorded: 'Joseph b. Joezer brought in one but his son brought in six', from which it can be seen that it was the practice to write down the amounts given to the Temple and the names of the donors. Isserles in his gloss to the Shulhan 'Arukfl8 states that a man who gives generously to a good cause should not boast of his good deed. 'Nevertheless', Isserles continues, 'one who makes a donation to a charitable cause may have his name recorded and it will be a remembrance for him and it is good to do this.' Isserles, in the sixteenth century, bases his opinion on the Rashba and evidently makes a distinction between boasting of the good deed, of which he disapproves, and having a record as a 'remembrance', of which he is in favour. 29

From Talmudic times, every Jewish community had its system of poor reliefl0 for which the members were taxed. In addition

27 Bava Batra 133b. 28 Yoreh De'ah 249:13. 29 See the standard commentaries to the Shulhan :Arukh for whether Isserles rules as he does because otherwise the gift may later be sold by the congregation (in which case where there exists an express stipulation that it cannot be sold the name should not be recorded) or whether it is because of 'remembrance' and is approved of by Isserles in all circumstances. Since Isserles has the Rashba as his source, the latter view seems to be the correct one. 3° For the details and on the general history of alms-giving and poor relief in Judaism see J. Bergmann, ha-Tzedakah be-Tisrael, Jerusalem, 1975. Zevi Elimelech Teicher's Ma'aseh ha-Tzedakah, Premisla, 1874, photo- copy, Jerusalem, 1978, is a useful anthology of teachings on the high value of charity to the poor.

94 there were, of course, voluntary contributions. In the Bible there is an elaborate system of tithing and this was extended later to a tithe on all wealth, according to which a tenth of one's annual income has to be set aside for charitable purposes.31 A pious individual would often give more than a tenth but the Talmud records32 that, after the destruction of the Temple, the Rabbis decreed at the Synod ofUsha that none should give more than a flfth. This was no doubt a measure against communal impoverishment after the decline of the economy in Palestine at that time, but the rule was recorded in the later Codes.33 Yet there are instances of people giving away more than a flfth in times of great communal distress. R Shneor Zalman of Liady, for instance, urges his followers to disregard the rule since, he argues, the rule cannot apply where people are starving and must be helped to survive.34

Great care must be taken when giving charity not to humiliate the poor man who is the recipient. Maimonides' eight degrees of charity,35 based on Talmudic sources, became the ideal in this matter of individual care for the poor:

There are eight degrees ofcharity one higher than the other. The highest degree ofall is when one strengthens the hand of an Israelite who faces poverty, giving him a gift or a loan or entering into a business partnership with him or giving him a job in order to strengthen his hand and to prevent him

31 See Tosafists, Ta'anit, under 'aser te'aser, and Isserles, Shulhan 'Arukh, Yoreh De'ah 249:1, and see A. M. Albert, Jerusalem, 1977, for the various views on this subject. 32 Ketubot 50a. 33 Isserles in Shulhan }irukh, Yoreh De'ah 249: 1. 34 Shneor Zalman of Liady, ' lggeret ha-Kodesh: in Tanya, Vilna, 1930, nos. 9-11. 35 Mishneh Torah, Mattenot }tniyim 10: 7-14.

95 COMMUNAL OBLIGATIONS

becoming an object of charity. .. A lesser degree is where one gives charity to the poor but neither the giver nor the receiver knows ofthe other. .. A lesser degree is where the giver knows to whom he has given but the poor man does not know to whom he is indebted. .. Less than this is where the poor man knows to whom he is indebted but the giver does not know to whom he has given... Less than this is where the giver gives money directly to the poor man but without having to be asked for it. Less than this is where he gives after the poor man has asked him to do so. Less than this is where he gives the poor man less than he should but with a cheerful countenance. Less than this is where the giver is glum.

The way in which the life of the individual is linked to the community in Judaism can be seen particularly in the matter of prayer. While the many prayers in the Bible are individual prayers, summoned forth by particular circumstances,36 Rabbinic Judaism introduced the idea of communal prayer­ tefillah be-tzibbur37 - as of supreme value. Menahem Meiri of Perpignan38 (thirteenth century) in his typical demythologizing way of interpreting Talmudic sayings, comments as follows on the Talmudic statement39 that prayer in a quorum of ten in the synagogue causes the Shekhinah to be present:

Whenever a man is able to recite his prayers in the synagogue he should do so since there proper concentration of the heart can be achieved. The Rabbis laid down a great rule: Communal prayer has especial value and whenever ten pray in the synagogue the Shekhinah is present.

36 See M. Greenberg, Biblical Prose Prayers, Berkeley, Cali£, 1983. 37 A good deal of material on this subject from traditional sources is to be found in I.J. Fuchs, ha-Tefillah be-Tzibbur, Jerusalem, 1978. 38 Bet ha-Behirah, Berakhot, ed. S. Dickmann, Jerusalem, 1965, p. 15. 39 Berakhot 6a.

96 According to this teacher, the individual ought ideally to pray in the synagogue together with the community because of its psychological effect. An individual is better able to concentrate on the prayers if the atmosphere is conducive to prayer both because of the sacredness of the place and because others are engaged in the same activity.

The Talmudic Rabbis often speak of the high value of communal prayer in the synagogue. 'One who has a synagogue in his town but does not enter therein to pray is called a bad neighbour [i.e. of God]'40 is a typical Talmudic saying. While an individual can recite the statutory prayers on his own, there are some prayers (those described as 'prayers of sanctification') which can be recited only when a quorum of ten is present.41 But, from the way Maimonides formulates it, it appears that, apart from the sanctification prayers, it is not so much an obligation to pray together with the congregation as an act of special piety.42 Maimonides writes :43

Communal prayer is always hearkened to and even if there are sinners among them the Holy One, blessed be He, does not reject the prayers of the many. Consequently, a man should associate himself with the community and he should not recite prayers in private whenever he is able to recite them together with the community.

40 Berakhot Sa. C£ Berakhot 290-303 that even such an individual prayer as the wayfarer's prayer (tejillat ha-derekh) should be worded in the plural, not 'lead me to my destination' but 'lead us to our destination'. 41 E.g. the Kaddish and the Kedushah.- see Berakhot 21b and Palestinian Talmud, Berakhot7:3 (uc). 42 See Fuchs, ha- Tefillah, pp. 38-44, for other views. 43 Mishneh Torah, Tefillah 8: 1.

97 COMMUNAL OBLIGATIONS

Others see communal prayer as a definite obligation and in Jewish communities everywhere, nowadays, it is so seen.

In the literature of Jewish piety various reasons are given for the supremacy of communal over private prayer in addition to the greater psychological effect noted by Meiri. A mystical reason given by the Zohar44 is that prayers offered in private do not ascend to God until the one who offers them has first been examined to see whether or not he is worthy for his prayers to be accepted, whereas communal prayers ascend immediately without any prior investigation. A variation of this is given by R Hayyim ofVolozhyn with particular attention to what this early nineteenth-century author considers to be the spiritual decline of the age. Even in former ages, public prayer was superior to private but the latter could also be undertaken without risk. But, 'nowadays', it is extremely hazardous to undertake private prayer, for one who does so is trying, in effect, to bring about the aims of prayer life on his own and for this the kind of concentration required is beyond the reach of men in these weak generations. It is quite otherwise when people pray together. Then far less is demanded of the individual, supported as he is by his fellow worshippers. 45

A full-scale treatment of the subject is provided in Judah Halevi's Kuzari. 46 In the dialogue, on which the book is based, between the King of the Khazars and the Jewish sage, the king asks, would it not be better if everyone read his prayers for himself? Would not this result in greater purity of thought and more intense concentration? The sage, in reply, lists the

44 Zohar 1, 234b; Fuchs, ha-Tefillah, p. 39. 45 Ruah Hayyim, Vilna, 1859, Comment onAvot 2:13, p. 17a; ha-Tefillah, Fuchs, p. 40. 46 Kuzari, in: 19: Fuchs, ha-Tefillah, pp. 40-1.

98 advantages of communal prayer. An individual, praying on his own, may pray for harm to come to others but a community will never pray for harm to come to one ofits members. Furthermore, an individual may make mistakes in his mouthing of the prayers but when people pray together they make up for one another's shortcomings.

The idea, mentioned by Maimonides and implied by Halevi, that the sinners in a congregation are assisted by the prayers of the righteous, is found in the Talmud but there it is further said that in times of distress, such as when the community is praying for rain on a public fast day, it is essential to have the sinners as members of the community. Just as galbanum, which has, on its own, an unpleasant odour, had to be mixed with the other, sweet-smelling, ingredients when the incense was prepared for Temple use, so, too, the sinners are an integral part of the community.47 The Jewish community, in other words, is not a community of saints. It is made up of many diverse individuals with a common aim despite the fact that many of them fall shon of it in their daily lives. In Jewish folk language the word for community- tzibbur- is said to be the initial letters of tzaddikim ('righteous') benonim ('average persons'), resha'im ('wicked').48 It takes all sons to make a Jewish community as it takes all sorts to make a world.

In another area, too, there are tensions between the individual and the community. This is the important area of study of the Torah. While strong disapproval is expressed in the Talmud

47 Keritut 6b. 48 Quoted by Fuchs, ha-Tefillah, p. 42.

99 COMMUNAL OBUGATIONS of those who study on their own,49 this did not mean that individual scholars were obliged to conform to any standard norm, except, naturally, when it came to practical decision making where the majority view prevailed.50 On the contrary, so far as theoretical learning and debate were concerned, the whole of the Talmud and of subsequent Jewish learning consists of arguments by individuals defending, often with vehemence, their own opinions·51 This may be behind the saying that a scholar is allowed to forgo the honour due to him. And when it is objected that the Torah is not his, that he should have the right to waive the honour due to it, the reply is given, 'Verily, the Torah is his.' 52 Throughout the history of Jewish learning there are not only many different branches of study but within each of these there has been much room for the exercise of individual disposition and temperament. A Talmudic saying has it that a man can only study a subject to which his heart draws himY With the invention of printing and the resulting very wide dissemination of books, private study came into its own and it was held by many scholars that the authors of the books were 'study companions' .54

49 See, e.g., Makkot 1 Oa that scholars who study on their own become foolish and deserve that a sword should fall upon their neck and the saying of Rabbi quoted there: ' Much Torah have I learnt from my teachers, more from my colleagues and most of all from my disciples.' 50 See the famous account of the Oven of Akhnai in Bava Metzia' 6ga-b where Rabbi Eliezer refuses to withdraw his opinion and is supponed by a Heavenly voice and yet his colleagues still hold fast to their opinion and their opinion is accepted as the law; 'Eruvin 13b; HuUin 11 a. 51 See 1\uldushin 30b on scholars becoming 'enemies'. 52 1\uldushin 32a-b. 53 'Avodah Zarah 19a 54 For a similar suggestion that there is a difference between learning from books as we do nowadays and the older learning from the teacher, see H. M. Medini, Sedey Hemed, ed. A. I. Friedmann, New York, 1962, vol. m, p. 402, no. 145.

100 This leads to a consideration of how far individual dissent is tolerated in the Jewish tradition. It cannot be denied that Jewish communities exercised restraint on their dissidents by means of the herem and, sometimes, by coercion. The statement in the Talmud55 that the Court can punish offenders even where there are no strictly legal grounds for so doing, 'where the generation needs it', resulted, especially in the mediaeval Spanish communities, in the strictest control by the Rabbis and communal leaders of non-conformism, and the case of Spinoza hardly requires to be mentioned. But all this took place in more or less closed communities where the game was generally played according to the rules. The banning of unconventional or heretical views has no meaning in the open and pluralistic Jewish society that is the norm in contemporary Jewish life. Even Orthodox Rabbis of note have taught that the harsh treatment meted out, at least theoretically, in the traditional sources no longer applies. 56 Religious tolerance undoubtedly belongs to Western society but, after the Emancipation, the majority of Jews belong in that society.

55 Sanhedrin 46a. 56 See ET, vol. n, under apikoros, pp. 136-7.

101