The Morning Blessings (B’rachot)
These assorted blessings of rabbinic origin (Talmud, tractate B’rachot 60b) now introduce the service, but were originally intended to be recited while waking, washing and dressing. Each one expresses appreciation for a particular small, usually unnoticed miracle of every morning, such as: opening our eyes, stretching our limbs, having clothes to wear and the strength and health to start our day. As we begin the long, daily climb from sleep to spiritual reawakening, the first stage is this basic recognition of our own physical capacities.
Baruch She’emar (if we have a minyan this is preceded by a Mourner’s Kaddish)
This short rabbinic prayer introduces a series of introductory, warm-up psalms called “P’sukey d’zimra.” These passages, incorporated into the liturgy by Saadia Gaon in the tenth century, are designed to ease us into the main part of the service, inspiring feelings of humility and wonder at the miracles surrounding us. Through these poems, we clear our minds and throats and rediscover our voices, shifting the focus from our own bodies to the world around us—thereby reaching the second stage of spiritual reawakening.
Ashrey
Psalm 145 is the centerpiece of this introductory section. The rabbis suggested that this psalm be recited three times daily, twice in the morning service, and once in the afternoon. The alphabetical acrostic form was often used in the Bible to emphasize a poem’s significance. Strangely, one letter —nun — is omitted from this pattern. Some suggest profound explanations for this omission, but most likely a verse was simply lost during the centuries of oral transmission. A verse beginning with nun is found in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Ashrey is a universal psalm —Israel is never mentioned—calling upon all of humanity to praise and thank God for providing for our most basic needs. This is an opportune moment to count our blessings.
Yishtabach
The warm-up section officially ends with this paragraph, concluding with the blessing. The reader and congregation recite this series of praises. The claim is made that all living creatures pray instinctively, praising God through actions as well as words. Even breathing is a form of praise; the song of the bird, my dog’s morning howl and the budding of the flower testify to the miracle of life’s daily renewal. Human beings also praise God in subtle, non-verbal ways. Breathing, crying, loving, laughing, every creative and human activity: these are the essence of prayer. Ironically, here the prayer book seems to be telling us that the least important prerequisite for prayer is a prayer book. The most authentic prayers are those that cannot be expressed in words.
The Half (Chatzi) Kaddish
The Kaddish (rabbinic) in its varying forms marks transitional points in the service. No Kaddish may be said without a minyan. Here the Kaddish announces the beginning of the Shacharit (morning) service.
Barechu - The Call to Prayer
All formalities aside, we now get down to the business at hand. The reader bows for the first two words, but stands upright while reciting God’s name, and the congregation follows likewise with its response. This “Call to Prayer” is actually a “call to dialogue,” a dialogue with God that we initiate. The Hebrew word to pray, l’hitpalel, also suggests an inner dialogue with the self, or the God that dwells within us. Just as the uniquely Jewish style of prayer (called davening in Yiddish) combines public discourse and private meditation, so does the experience of addressing God blur the line between an appeal to an All-Powerful, Unknowable Other and simple soul searching.
As we stand upright, we now enter a state of complete physical vitality. Our bodies and voices (emotions) are fully awake. Now begins the third stage of spiritual awakening: the awakening of the mind. Through the next portion of the service, we become aware of God’s presence in the world, and Israel’s role in that world, as we contemplate the deepest questions of life.
The blessing immediately following the Barechu, recognizing the orderly transition from light to darkness, is based on a selection from Isaiah. The Barechu, too, is biblical in origin, coming from the book of Nehemiah. This entire liturgical unit (from the Barechu to the Amidah), known as “The Sh’ma and its Blessings,” has been part of Jewish prayer since at least the second century.
Creation (Yotzer) section
There are two sections of prayer between the Barechu and the Sh’ma, each concluded by a blessing. The first expresses gratitude for the miraculous order of nature and its cycles, and in particular the phenomenon of light. At the conclusion, we pray for a new light to shine upon Zion, a time when the sun’s warmth will be surpassed by the warmth of peace and light on Earth. This is a good time to contemplate the cycles of life, the seasons of our own lives, and how life’s endings almost always are followed by new beginnings.
The metaphoric language of this section should not confuse us. Life forces and universal mysteries have been explained differently in different ages, some by reference to “angels” and others by more scientific methods. But the people who wrote this poetry shared the same concerns we have: to live lives imbued with sanctity, harmony and purpose. Modern scientists observing the universe are no less amazed by its remarkable harmony. Each new discovery only increases the mystery, and brings the scientist yet closer to God.
On a more practical level, this section serves another purpose. The phrase “Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh,” (holy, holy, holy), is a preview of the Kedushah prayer, to be recited in full later on. Since that prayer can only be recited with a minyan of ten people, this less intense, “mini-Kedushah” gives those not praying with a minyan the chance to share in one of the liturgy’s most uplifting moments.
Ahavah Rabbah - Torah as a Gift of Love
This prayer expresses appreciation for a human being’s capacity to love, learn and act in accordance with the teachings of our tradition. The Torah teaches that knowledge alone is not enough. To be of any value at all, it must be applied. We care and act ethically not just because we should, but because we are created in God’s image. Just as God, in the Torah, clothes the naked, visits the sick, comforts mourners and feeds the hungry, so should we. The spark of Godliness in each of us reaches out for that spark in every other human being, and our lives are guided by God’s greatest gift of all, the Torah.
When we recite the line, “Gather us in peace from the four corners of the earth,” an ancient dream that is coming true for Jews today in modern Israel, it is customary to take the four corners of the tallit (prayer shawl), the tzitzit (fringes of the tallit), and wrap them around your forefinger. As we bring the tzitzit together and recite this, the second blessing before the Sh’ma, we focus our thoughts on the ultimate Unity that is existence, the One Source of life and love that flows through us, around us and between us.
The Sh’ma
This collection of three paragraphs from Deuteronomy and Numbers comprises the most powerful, dramatic and universally known of all Jewish prayers. If you came late, go back and recite the Sh’ma to yourself before joining the congregation for the rest of the service.
The various themes of this prayer all stem from the idea that everything is interconnected. God is One, and that essential Unity implies a basic interdependence among all of Israel, all of humanity, and all of creation. We—and God—exist through relationship. The primary model for relationship is the family. Parents and children are interdependent, and it is, therefore, essential to communicate Jewish values from one generation to the next, at all times, in all that we do. This communication can be both verbal and non-verbal, through symbols and rituals. Non-verbal, physical reminders of these values are given special mention, for example the mezuzah, the tefillin (phylacteries), and the tzitzit (fringes of the tallit - which are kissed whenever they are mentioned in the third Hebrew paragraph).
Also of note is the connection between morality and security. The second (Hebrew) paragraph, which is quite controversial—in fact the Book of Job is an argument against it—cannot easily be applied to the individual. As we have seen all too often, good deeds do not guarantee material rewards, and, in fact, we should not perform them solely for material gain. On a national basis, the formula has been proven correct time and time again. Nations that lose sight of morality eventually lose all else.
Finally, there is the connection between love and commitment. We are commanded to love God. A Western mind would challenge that notion, claiming that an emotion such as love cannot be forced. Here, however, love is not seen as a fleeting emotion but as an unbreakable attachment. By reciting the Sh’ma, we freely affirm our commitment to all Jewish values, while maintaining the right to question some aspects of our religion, including the nature of God Godself.
Following the traditional practice is to remain seated for the entire prayer, unless you happen to be standing at the time the prayer begins (then, remain standing). For this prayer, there is no need to move about, shuffle feet or rise in unison. It is not a plea to God; rather, it is God’s plea to us, a daily reminder that we repeat to ourselves and one another (some say this prayer up to four times daily). It is a time to reflect on the nature of one’s deepest beliefs, to question, to doubt, and to reaffirm faith in the face of doubt. At a time of such profound and personal reflection, when our physical position is of little concern, it is entirely appropriate to remain seated. Some people cover their eyes while reciting the opening line, as a way of deepening concentration and severing all contact with matters physical and peripheral.
The second line, beginning with “Baruch shem,” (“Blessed be His glorious kingdom forever”), the only verse of this prayer not taken directly from the Torah, is recited silently except on Yom Kippur.
Emet
We are now in the transitional stage between the Sh’ma and the Amidah, the other focal point of the morning service. We shift our attention from the grand themes of creation and revelation (Torah), to the Jew’s eternal quest for redemption.
A key word on these pages is emet (truth), a word repeated seven times, including once at the end of the Sh’ma. This is a good time to examine the truths in our lives. What underlying values are eternal to us? Of the legacy our parents left for us, what do we want to preserve and enhance for future generations? What are our truths? Only if we are utterly honest with ourselves can we determine just what form of redemption we seek.
Mi Chamocha
For the Jew, salvation is defined both historically and existentially. This prayer helps us to focus on both contexts. It speaks of the redemption of Israel on the shores of the Red Sea. The Exodus from Egyptian slavery marked our birth as a nation and has become ever-present in the Jewish experience, reenacted each day in our prayers, defining us as a people. This poem, one of the oldest in world literature and probably the oldest in the Bible, is recited by us, the children of the children of Israel, each day as if for the first time.
Here we meditate on the meaning of our history and God’s role in it. Does it have a direction? When will the ultimate redemption occur, if ever, and how can we help to bring it about? Where do our lives fit in the overall scheme of things? On a less grand scale, we might also ponder our own, personal Egypts, and what we can do to bring ourselves closer to fulfillment. On any level, we remain unredeemed wanderers in a perpetual state of Exile, yet ever hopeful and resolute.
We rise at the end as the blessing of redemption is recited, in anticipation of the Amidah.
The Amidah
Amidah means “The Standing Prayer,” and is also known as, simply “The Prayer” in Hebrew. It is a collection of blessings, praises and petitions, and takes a different form on Shabbat and festivals. The weekday Amidah contains a number of specific requests relating to our hopes for the world and ourselves. On Shabbat, we limit ourselves mostly to praise and gratitude, in recognition that Shabbat is a most generous and precious gift in itself. Any other request would be distasteful. Nonetheless, one important petition does sneak in at the end, eve on Shabbat and most certainly on weekdays — the prayer for peace (Sim Shalom). The Amidah has been an integral part of Jewish prayer since at least the first century.
With this prayer we’ve reached the fourth and final level of spiritual awakening, beyond the physical, emotional and rational. The Amidah is purely experiential. Going beyond feeling, analyzing and understanding, here we seek to actually experience the Sacred. We stand and chant in unison with our community, invoking our ancestors, reaching out to our descendants and rubbing shoulders with Jews all over the world. Through this extraordinary communion, we sense a spark of immortality within us, a purpose to our being—and that we are not alone.
The Kedushah
This section, featuring Isaiah’s dream-like vision, is the most mystical moment of the service, recited only when a minyan (quorum of ten) is present. For one terrifying and humbling moment, we join as a community in seeking to perceive the ultimate mysteries of life, to achieve a perfect oneness and clarity of vision, and to raise ourselves to a higher level of sanctity (Kedushah means “holiness”). We literally lift ourselves, by standing on our toes when reciting the words “Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh.”
Aside from this fleeting moment, the Amidah is essentially a private prayer. Our Amidah includes parts that are recited in unison and others silently (in a whisper, not the usual mumble of davening) allowing for both public affirmation and private meditation. The silent segments of the Amidah provide an opportunity to take a few moments to ponder our individual needs and unfulfilled goals, while in the other sections we declare aloud our more collective ones. It’s a great time to reflect on the necessity of that weekly breather from life’s struggles, the Shabbat. Then, as we take a deep breath, we allow the serenity and peace of Shabbat to fill our souls.
The Torah Service (Mondays and Thursdays)
On Mondays and Thursdays, market days in the ancient world, the Torah is removed and the first part of the coming Sabbath’s portion is read It was mentioned above that Jewish prayer is a dialogue. During Shacharit we talk to God. Here, God, in effect, is talking to us (through the words of revelation, the Torah). Because it is the central part of the service, the Torah reading is embellished by fanfare, procession and song, just as the Torah itself is decorated with fine silver ornaments. It is a great honor to participate in the Torah service, for doing so keeps Judaism alive. Three Jewish adults (over age 13) ascend (“aliyah” means ascent) to chant blessings before and after each selection is read. There is no “haftarah” on most weekdays.
Each aliyah is in effect a reenactment of the Revelation at Mount Sinai. As each person goes up to say the blessings (ascending from the right side of the pulpit),
s/he kisses the sacred parchment with a tallit, thereby declaring again our acceptance of the gift of the Torah. While the Torah may have been given to Israel only once, it is received over and over again, by anyone willing to hear its message. For the Jew, Sinai is an ongoing event.
For the congregation, the time of the Torah reading is an opportunity to express concern for those who are sick or who are about to leave on a journey, and to welcome and honor guests and those returning from distant places. This is also the time to celebrate individual and communal rites of passage: births, Bar/Bat Mitzvah celebrations, upcoming weddings, anniversaries, you name it. In Jewish tradition, one person’s celebration is everyone’s; all our destinies are intertwined.
After the Torah portion is completed, the congregation often joins in other special prayers before the scroll is returned to the ark, including memorial prayers on the occasion of a Yahrzeit (anniversary of a death).
Various biblical selections are sung before the Torah (called our “tree of life”) is set back into the ark, again with fanfare and procession.
Kaddish Shalem (Full Kaddish)
This all-purpose prayer is the punctuation mark of Jewish liturgy. In its abbreviated form, it introduces or concludes units of prayer, and in this more complete form, it concludes a full service. The ancient Aramaic language utilized was the street language of the rabbinic period; therefore, this prayer was meant to be understood by all worshippers, regardless of their knowledge of Hebrew. Like a Greek chorus, its frequent appearance serves to emphasize the basic themes of our drama, including our ongoing dialogue with God, our resolute hope amidst the despair we see around us, and our non-stop pursuit of peace everywhere. Other versions of the Kaddish are recited by mourners and following the sacred act of study.
Alenu
Alenu is a universal, messianic anthem of hope, written during the Middle Ages from the perspective of a tortured, tormented people, victims of the Crusades. The original version, still found in many prayer books, was even more chauvinistic than what we see here, but the author’s anti-Gentile fervor is understandable if not excusable, given his plight. This prayer was originally part of the High Holy Days liturgy only, but became so popular that it found its way into each morning and evening service. Alenu is inspiring to all who have faced powerlessness and indignity and yet, in spite of the temptation to succumb to total despair, have still dared to hope for a better world.
Mourner’s Kaddish
As noted previously, the Kaddish fulfills many roles in Jewish liturgy. Since the twelfth or thirteenth century, it has become customary for mourners to recite it at all services for the first eleven months following the burial of a parent, and for one month for other close relatives, as well as on the Yahrzeit (anniversary) of the death. It is not a prayer about death, however, but of life. As we recall our departed, we confront the loss of faith by rising to praise God in public, praying that, in spite of all that has happened, we may still soon see a world filled with peace, harmony, blessing and song.
SUPPLEMENTARY MATERIALS
Supplementary Meditations
Meditations on the Morning Blessings
Note: The following meditations (kavanot) on the Morning Blessings (“Birchot Ha’Shachar”) were composed by Beth El congregant Pamela Cohn Allen of blessed memory. Pamela long inspired us in life, overcoming severe illness, and now she inspires us in prayer. I thank her for the permission to reprint this, and I hope that it will enable all of us to gain from all our prayers the type of sanctity, gratitude and serenity Pamela gained from her experience of living the Morning Blessings.
JH
---------------
To my dear family and friends,
Friday morning was another turning point along this road. My morning prayers (birchot hashachar) had been recited or meditated upon, during those weeks in hospital, either prone, or propped up in bed, or in my most upright position in the pillowed chair overlooking the hospital entrance.
Since coming home, I usually wake around 4.30 a.m. with the first tentative chirping of cardinals and parrots (yes parrots, whose ancestors escaped some time ago from the Bridgeport Zoo), as they rub their eyes sleepily with their wings. That is the time for Shacharit, as pre-dawn peers through the blinds in the bathroom, lighting up the leaves on the windowsill.
Until Friday.
That beautiful morning I felt strong and inspired. Up early - and off I drove to Westport, CT. Sites first on the Captain’s Table, a tiny nook on a side street which brews the best soups and bakes the best scones this side of Devon, England. It was a blueberry scone I chose, hot out of the oven, crusty on the outside, softly melting on the inside, with some steaming decaf - and I continued on to Compo Beach, exhilarating in my tasties en route.
Parked the car, and started to WALK! (My legs, arms and head are strong. My tummy, welllllll...) And walking, recited the Shacharit prayers – Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam asher natan lesechvi vina l’havchin bein yom uvein layla.
Praised are you, Adonai our God, who gave roosters the wisdom to distinguish between night and day (I love this prayer with the deepest delight! And if any of you read Hebrew, please treat yourselves to a book called Binat Hasechvi - a pearl of all pearls). It is only we who need alarm clocks. The rest of God’s creation knows, in every season, when daylight emerges from night’s blanket.
She asani betsalmo. Who created me in the Divine image: literally, in God’s shadow. (What an extraordinary concept; and how enormous our responsibility..........)
She asani Yisrael. Who made me part of the people of Israel. (There was not a day, living in Jerusalem in the days when I was not consciously reciting the morning prayers, when I didn’t look out over the Judean hills and feel overwhelmed at the knowledge, and implications, of standing in that place..........)
She asani bat-horin. Who made me free.
(This, and most of the other prayers, are usually universalist for me. But Friday morning, what freedom I felt in being able to walk along that sparkling seashore: I was flying with the seagulls, being cleansed by the salt water washing gently over the rocks.)
Pokeach ivrim. Who gives sight to the blind.
(We are surrounded by such incredible beauty, if we would only open our senses and our hearts to receive it!)
Malbish arumim. Who clothes the naked.
(Again, this I’ve always applied to others rather than myself. I have, after all, always been blessed with having clothing for my body - though often I wish we would uncover, rather than clothe our souls. But Friday - I gave thanks for the new hair which frames my face now, short (brown!) wavy hair, which I shyly and with amazement inspect in the mirror periodically throughout the day. I don’t, however, take it for granted - I see it as being on loan, and if I lose it again, I know there will be new growth. I am a gardener, after all........)
Matir asurim. Who releases the bound.
(Freedom! We need to think more about the meanings of this word. Friday morning it meant, for me, freedom from pain, which allowed me to see these wonders, to hear, smell, touch. To be alive!)
Zokef k’fufim. Who raises those bowed down.
(Each day a little, each day a little, until one morning you feel you are flying......)
Roka ha’aretz al hamayim. Who sets the earth upon the waters.
(When we were in Oregon at the end of May, at the Sea Quest B&B Neach Yachats, I would recite the morning prayers standing on the field outside our window, surrounded by the opening petals of tiny yellow flowers. This field ran for about 50 yards, ending on the wild, tree trunk strewn beach of the turbulent Pacific Ocean - (why was it ever named the “Pacific”?!) Who sets the earth upon the waters. Friday morning I walked along the calm Atlantic shore, soft sand ending in the gentlest of waves......)
She asani kol tsarki. Who provides for all my needs.
(My soul, my soul is overflowing. And I believe that the greatest need, and the greatest gift a human being can experience, is love........)
Hamechin mitsadei gaver. Who guides my steps.
(Each step, along this Friday morning path, and along the other mysterious road whose twists and turns lead inexorably on........)
Ozer Yisrael b’gvura. Who strengthens the people of Israel with courage.
(Each moment, some long and some short, I give thanks......)
Ozer Yisrael b’tifara. Who strengthens the people of Israel with glory.
(This comes toward the end of this prayer. The glory can envelop us only if we’re aware, at our innermost core, of what comes before this.........)
Hanoten leya’ef koach. Who gives strength to the weary.
MODAH ANI LEFANEHA - I give thanks before God, whose creation I acknowledge with love..........
No comments:
Post a Comment