By Rabbi Dovid Sapirman, Dean, Ani Maamin Foundation
The more one delves into tefillah, the more he understands how precious it is. The chachamim tell us, “Tefillah stands in the highest place in the world, but people treat it cheaply.” It is one of the most important things you can do in your lifetime. In what way do people “treat it cheaply”? Sadly, many.
If someone desperately needed help in a matter of life and death, would he mumble through his plea? Yet so many of us stand before our Creator, asking him to grant life and save us from harm, with no emotion, as quickly as we can.
Rabbi Eliezer says in the Mishnah, “Whoever makes his prayer into a fixed event, his prayer is not tachanunim (pleading).” The Gemara explains the meaning of a “fixed prayer”—one: tefillah that seems like a burden, an obligation to say a predetermined number of pages in a siddur just to get it over with. Two: tefillah that is not said with an expression of pleading, just words mumbled and raced through. Is this the way we plead for mercy?
In the long Tachanun said on Mondays and Thursdays, we ask over and over to be shielded from harm. Spare us from plagues and captivity, from our enemies, from harsh decrees, from death, from all our pain in this long galus. It’s a very long prayer—yet often recited in record speed, with no emotion. “People treat it cheaply.” Could there be a starker illustration of the Mishnah’s words?
Forgive these harsh words, but the truth must be said. There are certainly people who daven with emotion, but they are not the majority.
Before World War I, the Chofetz Chaim met a grain merchant and asked him how his parnassah was going. “I’m not managing,” the man said. Sometime after the war, they met again, and again the Chofetz Chaim asked after his livelihood. “Fantastic, Rebbi! Never better.”
“How?” the Chofetz Chaim asked. “Before the war, there was plenty of grain and you couldn’t make a living. Now it is almost a famine, and you’re thriving?”
“Before the war, the customers were particular,” the merchant said. “They insisted on credit, and only took the best merchandise. I couldn’t make a living. Now that there is a shortage, they take whatever I have and pay cash up front.”
From this, the Chofetz Chaim absorbed a great lesson. Once, the Jewish world was full of people davening with sincerity. Hashem chose only the best. Now there is a shortage. He takes any tefillah said with just a little meaning.
There is a Creator Who hears prayers, and looks with favor on those who daven with their hearts. A person must be saturated with emunah, making his prayer meaningful before he even opens a siddur.
To be continued.