It occurred to me in the days that followed that Jewish law contains two completely distinct modes of prayer which fulfil entirely different functions. Writing in Hilchot Tefillah, Rambam describes a very idealistic mode of prayer. Basing himself on an accumulation of various Talmudic teachings, he provides precise details of the various forms of preparation that one should go through in order to free one’s mind of worldly concerns and mentally attach oneself to the divine realm. Expanding upon this in the Moreh, Rambam understands that prayer in its essence is a contemplative intellectual exercise which offers crucial assistance to a person trying to enhance their providential relationship with God.
This sort of meditative prayer is not always recommended. In fact, writes Rambam, it is not permitted to embark upon such prayer at a time when one is troubled or weighed down by worldly challenges.
All of this describes the mode of prayer which I was attempting to pursue in the first half of the Shabbat morning service.
But there is also a very different model of prayer which Rambam introduces us to at the start of Hilchot Ta’anit:
“It is a positive Torah commandment to cry out and to sound trumpets in the eent of any difficulty that arises which affects the community, as the Torah states: "[When you go out to war... against] an enemy who attacks you and you sound the trumpets....", meaning to say: Whenever you are distressed by difficulties - e.g., famine, plague, locusts, or the like - cry out [to God] because of them and sound the trumpets.”
This second category of prayer is specifically designed to guide communal and national reaction to times of great distress and tragedy. Rather than a serene theological ascent to commune with the divine realm, it seeks to ensure that our primal crying out in fear and sorrow is directed to God – to know that it is our national covenant with Him which continues to determine our collective fate.
As Rambam proceeds to explain, this form of desperate communal crying out to God is intended, among other things, to direct our attention inwards and help us identify our own spiritual, moral and religious flaws which might have contributed to the crisis in hand.
In our particular situation, there is no great investigation which needs to be undertaken. The serious divisions and infighting which has rocked the country over the last year may well have damaged the army’s readiness, and reportedly was also a major source of encouragement for our enemies. From a spiritual dimension our tradition contrasts King David’s generation, in which many fell in battle since there was quarrelling and in-fighting with the more sinful generation of Ahab which was granted divine military assistance because of their great unity and commendable behaviour to one another.
Poignantly, this very lesson may be encapsulated in the fascinating halachic background to Tefillat Geshem – the prayer for rain which concluded the unusual service this Shabbat morning. Surveying the halachic literature on the subject, it seems uncontroversial that Jews in different countries and climates around the world should pray for rain according to the agricultural requirements of their particular locale. Yet the overwhelmingly prevalent practice over the last thousand years has been for Jews to follow the Talmudic prototype which contains minor variations for Jews in Israel and Bavel.
The Rosh, a leading halachic authority of the medieval period, describes in a responsa (10:4) how he initially pursued a strong campaign to correct this custom. Citing Rambam’s criticism of those who “pray with falsehood” for weather conditions that would actually harm rather than benefit their crops, Rosh consulted with Rabbinic leaders across Ashkenaz who all supported his view.
Nevertheless, the Rosh describes how his efforts to implement these changes provoked serious divisions and in-fighting within the community of Ashkenaz, with significant groups powerfully resisting his attempts to change what they saw as their ancestral custom. Setting aside both his pride and his strong personal feelings for what he believed to be correct practice, the Rosh publicly retracted his position in order to keep the peace and maintain communal unity. His private protest in the form of this responsa was restricted to a close circle of students which included his son.
How exactly this lesson can be integrated into 21stcentury Israel’s political and religious tensions is of course a complex and delicate matter. All sides could benefit however from internalising the spirit of the Rosh’s Tefillat HaGeshem compromise, sacrificing a cause so close to his heart on the altar of communal unity.
May God grant us all strength to cope with the horrendous and savage attack which has been inflicted upon our people and bring us absolute and total victory over our brutal enemy. May He watch over our soldiers going in to battle and bring back all of the hostages safely and speedily. And when this nightmare is over, may we be inspired to realise that we are one united people – notwithstanding our significant disagreements – and arise from this tragedy to rebuild Israel as a stronger and more cohesive society with all the blessings that this will achieve.
First posted on Facebook 10 October 2023, here.
