Windows on Jerusalem

Throughout Jewish history, since the destruction of the Second Temple, up to the present day, Jews have longed for a return to Jerusalem. At weddings, in blessings after meals, in the t'fillot, in song, and in literature, the Jewish soul yearns for Jerusalem, the center of the Jewish universe.

Two Shabbatot ago, I was in Efrat, where I stayed by one of my teachers from Pardes. The synagogue where he davens has windows on either side of the aron kodesh. The synagogue is on the northern most end of Efrat, and therefore has a view of Jerusalem through those large windows. Just past the hilltops on which sit the Arab cities of Beit Jala and Beit Lehem, is Jerusalem itself. Having lived in Jerusalem for well over a year now, mentioning Jerusalem in my davening has taken on a different tone, since I am on the inside looking out. At this point, I'm not sure that I necessarily like the new tone, but my experience in Efrat has reminded me of the kavanah with which I used to say those brachot. I was able to see Jerusalem and long to be within its embrace, to return to it, even though I was only going to be outside for about a day and a half.

I hope that our daily lives can impact the experience of our own prayer, in a way that changes kavanah, or sheds new light on "old" words.

Atmosphere

In our efforts to try and find spirituality and deep connections in prayer often lead us to take t’fillah very seriously. Generally, that is a practice which I would commend, and even recommend, since it would theoretically allow us to block out distractions and concentrate solely on our relationship with Gd.

Perhaps the best example is Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur which have taken on a doom and gloom atmosphere when it comes to t’fillah, at least for the majority of Ashkenazi communities. While there is plenty of reason to have those feelings given the gravity of the day, there is also room for celebration. Regardless, the unbridled celebration comes five days after Yom Kippur with the onset of Sukkot. In Israel, the mood change is palpable as soon as the Sukkot begin popping up around town. In some cases, already narrow streets become labyrinths in which pedestrians must negotiate the sukkot.

During t’fillah on sukkot the atmosphere in the synagogue is palpable with excitement. We get to enjoy the hands-on experience of shaking the lulav and etrog. Hallel (Psalms of praise) are joyously sung. Most notably for me, however, was that there was much more talking during t’fillah. The shul in which I davened for the holidays is very serious, in my opinion, about their davening, and they avoid most conversation. To see this entire community enjoying more light-hearted moments during t’fillah was as if I was witnessing, and to some extent participating in, the collective sigh of relief that comes after a long transformative undertaking.

What’s the take-away?
I have written a lot about the importance of taking tfillah seriously in order to find meaning with in it, and allow it to take hold of the davener. However, I’d also put forth the idea that we might be able to find davening equally as effective at penetrating our hearts if we back off the seriousness just slightly, and allow for a more festive vibes.