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| Artwork: Call to Mind, by Terese Nielsen |
A New Strategy for Tefilah (Prayer)
Flashes of insight can come from the most unexpected of places. A couple of weeks ago I randomly decided to watch a YouTube montage of every movie that has won the Academy Award for "Best Picture" from 1927-2018. The video featured a 5-10 second clip from each movie.
I wasn't even really watching this video. I just had it on for background noise while I prepared for the upcoming school year. Suddenly, my ears perked up upon hearing what immediately struck me as a profound truth. I paused the video and rewound it so I could listen again with full attention.
The movie was the 1941 winner of "Best Picture," and was called How Green Was My Valley. I know nothing about the plot of the movie or the broader context of this line, other than the fact that the main character's name is "Huw." Here's the quotation from the movie in its immediate context (thanks to a copy of the script I found online):
“For so God has given you a chance to make spirit within yourself. And as your father cleans his lamp to have good light, so keep clean your spirit, Huw.”
“How, sir?"
“By prayer, Huw. And by prayer, I don't mean shouting, mumbling, and wallowing like a hog in religious sentiment. Prayer is only another name for good, clean, direct thinking. When you pray, think. Think well what you're saying. Make your thoughts into things that are solid. In that way, your prayer will have strength, and that strength will become a part of you: body, mind, and spirit.”
When I heard this, I couldn't help but note how closely this idea of prayer resembles Judaism's definition of tefilah (prayer). I wrote about this in a very short post entitled Jewish Prayer (and Jury Duty). Here is the relevant excerpt in which I presented my understanding of what tefilah is:
The English word "pray" comes from the Latin "precari" which (according to Google) means "to ask earnestly" or "to beg." In stark contrast, the root of tefilah (תפילה) is P.L.L. (פ.ל.ל.) which means "to judge" or "to evaluate." When we speak of prayer as a verb, in Judaism we use the reflexive form "le'hitpalel" (להתפלל) which means "to self-judge" or "self-evaluate." [Note: from this point on I will use the Yiddish verb "daven" in reference to tefilah in order to avoid confusing it with the non-Jewish concept of prayer.]
On the surface, it would seem to be a contradiction to say "le'hitpalel to God." How can we use a reflexive verb to describe an action directed to a subject which is not the self (i.e. God)?
The answer to this question cuts to the core of what tefilah is. According to my understanding, is that le'hitpalel means "to judge oneself in God's framework" - that is to say, to evaluate who we are, what we need, and what we have been given, all in the framework of objective reality (i.e. through "the eyes" of God).
Tefilah can be thought of as the ultimate "reality check," in which we attempt to bring our subjective wants in line with our objective needs, and in line with the objective reality of God's will. In assessing our needs and thinking about how to obtain them, we are forced to confront our own limitations - which factors are in our control, and which are not, and how dependent we are on God's righteousness, justice, and mercy. From this position of humble recognition, we ask God to assist us in those areas which are outside of our control.
This last point brings us to another significant difference between tefilah and prayer. We ask for Divine assistance because we believe in the possibility of Divine intervention. However, getting our tefilos answered is not the main reason why we daven. The essential value of davening lies in the personal growth and understanding we gain from the act of self-reflection in the framework of objective reality.
To be clear: the definition of prayer in How Green Was My Valley is not synonymous with Judaism's definition of tefilah. We certainly do not hold that tefilah "is only another name for good, clean, direct thinking." There is much more to tefilah than that, both in terms of our involvement and God's involvement. Moreover, in the era after the Anshei Knesses ha'Gedolah (Men of the Great Assembly), our activity of "self-reflection/self-judgment in God's framework" is aided by the nusach ha'tefilah - the set text of Jewish liturgy. In other words, the thinking we do in our tefilah is "aided" or "guided" by the text that was established by the Anshei Knesses ha'Gedolah.
Nevertheless, we do maintain that tefilah, at its core, is "good, clean, direct thinking." We acknowledge this at the end of every tefilah by saying: "yihiyu l'ratzon imrei fi v'hegyon libi lefanecha, Hashem, Tzuri v'Goali - May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of my mind find favor before You, Hashem, my Rock and my Redeemer" (Tehilim 19:15) - thereby characterizing tefilah as an activity of articulated thinking before God.
This is also reflected in the Rambam's psak that although one is obligated to verbally enunciate his tefilah, he nevertheless fulfills his obligation if he didn't verbalize anything, but merely went over the words in his mind. This shows that even from a halachic standpoint, tefilah is essentially a cognitive act - not an act of recitation.
And yet, how many of us actually relate to the activity of tefilah as an activity of thinking? When we stand up to daven shacharis, minchah, and maariv, do we frame what we are about to do by telling ourselves: "Okay - time for five minutes of good, clean, direct thinking"? Or do we frame tefilah as an activity of "reading from a sidur" or "reciting a text" or "fulfilling an obligation" or some other type of thing?
Compare our tefilah mentality to our talmud Torah (Torah study) mentality. When we sit down to learn Torah, we definitely frame it as an activity of "good, clean, direct thinking," and we mentally prepare ourselves to engage in concentrated thinking. Our approach to tefilah should feel the same way. Indeed, this is why Chazal classify both tefilah and talmud Torah as "avodah she'ba'lev" (service of the mind), in contrast to "avodah she'ba'guf" (service of the body) - but how many of us really feel that we are doing the same type of thing when davening as we do when learning?
There is, however, an important distinction between these two acts of avodah she'ba'lev. It is this distinction which is the basis of the "new strategy for tefilah" that I am about to propose. The distinction is expressed in the second half of the quotation from How Green Was My Valley:
“And by prayer, I don't mean shouting, mumbling, and wallowing like a hog in religious sentiment. Prayer is only another name for good, clean, direct thinking. When you pray, think. Think well what you're saying. Make your thoughts into things that are solid. In that way, your prayer will have strength, and that strength will become a part of you: body, mind, and spirit.”
Although the ultimate goal of talmud Torah is to put into practice what we learn, this isn't part of the act itself. Learning, as an activity, is pure thinking. In contrast, tefilah is a specific method of guided thinking which culminates in self-transformation and self-actualization. Our tefilah is successful insofar as it "makes our thoughts into things that are solid" and "becomes part of ourselves in body, mind, and spirit."
In this sense, tefilah can be thought of as a form of metaphysically grounded self-guided psychotherapy. And just as psychotherapy cannot be deemed a success unless it produces real change in the way we live, so too, tefilah (textually aided self-reflection/self-judgment in God's framework) cannot be deemed successful unless it leads to a real transformation of the self. The Radak on the phrase "hegyon libi - thoughts of my mind" (Tehilim 19:15) explains that "hegyon" refers specifically to "machshavah," which the Rambam defines as "actionable thought."
Of course, this requires that we actually understand what we are saying when we daven - not only the words and the ideas, but how to internalize these ideas in an actionable manner. This is no simple feat. It requires a lot of thinking and learning outside of tefilah.
The prospect of devoting time and effort to learning the meaning of the liturgy might be daunting for some, but if you really want to get the most out of your tefilah, then you've gotta start somewhere. My suggestion is to begin with the English translation. Approach it like you would approach anything else you learn (e.g. Mishlei or Tehilim). Ask questions. Raise problems. Try to think of answers. Focus on getting the main idea rather than getting bogged down in the details. Take it one line or one paragraph at a time. Your goal should be to get to the point at which, when you encounter these words in tefilah, you can think them rather than merely recite them.
Let us conclude by summarizing this new strategy for tefilah - which, truth be told, is really more of a new perspective on tefilah than a specific method:
"Prayer is only another name for good, clean, direct thinking." Recognize what tefilah is: it is an activity of thinking (i.e. self-reflection/self-judgment in God's framework, guided by the text established by the Anshei Knesses ha'Gedolah).
"When you pray, think. Think well what you're saying." It's not enough to merely recognize that tefilah is thinking. You actually have to think your tefilah! In order to do this, you will need at least a minimal level of comprehension of the words. To the extent that you understand the ideas behind those words, you will find it more natural to think them when you say them.
"Make your thoughts into things that are solid. In that way, your prayer will have strength, and that strength will become a part of you: body, mind, and spirit." Lastly, remember that tefilah is not theoretical thinking, but practical thinking. Carry through with those thoughts into considering how you will think, feel, and act differently as a result of your tefilah than you previously did.
I realize that this is easier said than done, but I hope that by saying it, the doing part will become more within reach.
