Prayer crosses the aisle, but it’s manifested in different ways. “I believe in the power of prayer,” said Amy Coney Barrett at her confirmation hearing in 2020. James Talarico, Texas Democratic candidate for Senate, said virtually the same thing back in 2023, in a Texas legislative debate over gun laws after a mass shooting:
“I believe in the power of prayer. I believe prayer can change lives. I believe prayer can change the world. But there is something profoundly cynical about asking God to solve a problem that we’re not willing to solve ourselves. God moves, God works through us. God has no other hands but our hands.”
Prayer, then, needs to be seen as an active, not passive, form of self-expression.
When Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel returned from marching for Civil Rights in 1965, he wrote (and here’s the full quote):
“For many of us the march from Selma to Montgomery was about protest and prayer. Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling. And yet our legs uttered songs. Even without words, our march was worship. I felt my legs were praying.”
We pray with our commitments, and we pray with our ballots. As I prepare to vote, I say a prayer, grateful to have lived to reach this moment, grateful for the freedom to vote, and aware of my obligation to fulfill the commandment (mitzvah) of saving lives and building a better world. It’s a sacred moment, voting, a moment of pure prayer: a taste of the heavenly Jerusalem in a mundane school gym. This ballot box is our Western Wall, a note inserted into its crevice, a dispatch from the front, an epistle from the heart, containing my deepest response to the Cry of our times, a Cry that demands action - action that we can all take, that all of us must take. The fate of the nation will be determined in parking garages and school gyms and libraries, by long lines of voters waiting 3,5,8 hours or more to do something so simple, yet so earthshaking. It’s all worthy of a blessing.
I have signed up to be a clergy poll chaplain for the upcoming elections, to help provide a calm, moral presence at places that could be subjected to external pressures. That, in addition to my own vote, will be my way of turning my prayers to action. I’ll observe, I’ll comfort, I’ll de-escalate where needed and I’ll be a witness to the miracle of an unfolding democracy - and help to prevent its undermining. I’ll also be speaking once again at one of the myriad No Kings rallies to take place on October 17.
At times like these, it’s important, for Jews and others, to remember that voting is a prime spiritual value - a Jewish value - expressing our deep belief in the power that we possess to change the world.
We never hear about the rabbis of the Talmud taking a poll of their constituents. And Moses certainly didn’t take a vote before leading the people out of slavery. Still, the democratic value inherent to voting does find expression in Jewish tradition.
Jews were deeply involved in both the women’s suffrage movement of the 1920s and in the civil rights struggle of the 1960s, which, among other accomplishments, achieved the extension of the right to vote to African Americans. Some early Jewish voting-rights advocates included Clara Lemlich who, in 1909, following the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire, organized one of the most important strikes in American history and who then turned her energies to creating a working-class women’s suffrage organization; and Gertrude Weil, a leader of the North Carolina Equal Suffrage League beginning in 1915 and a crusader for voting rights and election reform.
Yes, the ballot box is our Kotel, a note inserted into its crevice, a dispatch from the front, an epistle from the heart, containing my deepest response to the Cry of our times.
The principle that “you should go after the majority (Exodus 23:2)” is understood by the rabbis to mean that the majority rules in legal disputes. In one famous Talmudic story, a group of rabbis argue over a legal point. Even though a divine voice supports the lone opinion of one rabbi, the majority opinion wins. Even God must bend to the will of the majority (and God takes great pleasure in this, exclaiming, “My children have defeated me!” Once the Torah has been transmitted to the Jewish people, the will of the people—understood as the majority opinion of the decision makers—determines the law. (Talmud Bava Metzia 59b).
So, on November 3, October 27 or whenever you vote, why not say a “Shehechianu” blessing – or make up another, spontaneous utterance that reflects how you feel at such a crucial moment.
In Hebrew, the verb “to pray” is reflexive. We aren’t praying so much for God’s benefit as for our own. Similarly, we are voting not only to save the world, but to save ourselves. And it would be profoundly cynical to ask God to clear up a mess that we helped to create, and that we aren’t willing to roll up our sleeves and help to resolve.
It begins with voting. And when we vote, our body will be praying.
Make a plan, check your registration TODAY (deadlines are this week in some places) and VOTE EARLY.
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