NASO 5781

Did you ever feel boredom set in during the Torah reading? If so, then you probably felt that way during the 2^nd half of today’s Torah portion. 3½ of the 7 columns of text in the Torah describe in detail the gifts and offerings that the n’siim, the princes, of each tribe brought on the day of the dedication of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle. Each day a different prince brought the exact same offering. Let me read you what that was: a silver bowl weighing 130 Shekels, a silver basin of weighing 70 shekels, both filled with fine flour mixed with oil for a meal-offering; one gold ladle of 10 shekel weight filled with incense; one young bull; one ram; one sheep in its 1^st year for an elevation offering; one he-goat for a sin offering; and for a feast peace-offering: 2 cattle, 5 rams, 5 he-goats; 5 sheep in their 1^st year. 

Did it get tedious as I was reading? Now imagine reading this 12 times—one for each prince—and you get the idea. Why didn’t the Torah just list the offering and say that every day for 12 days a different prince brought the same offering?

The Iturey Torah, in his commentary, points out that the Torah is expressing with this parade of princes and their gifts, a very profound thought:

         Although outwardly all the princes seemed to be doing exactly the same thing, nevertheless each prince did not bring his gift just to emulate his fellow prince, but each one, when it came to his turn on his day, expressed his own individual upsurge of genuine inner devotion and intent toward Gd.

For each one it was a revelatory experience. For us to read about it may seem repetitious because we are not participants in the pageantry. However, for each prince it was a unique and amazing experience, and that’s why the Torah records it that way.

Thus, every mitzvah—even if it may be the same mitzvah, done in the same way every day or every week—is not a repetitive act, but an opportunity to draw closer to Gd. This is what the Torah means by nasi layom, “a prince for each day.” You can make a motzi blessing over bread for lunch and make it again over bread for dinner. It’s not repetitious. It’s an opportunity each time to say thank you and appreciation to Gd for our food.

This theme of consistent repetition is key in Jewish life and is too often misunderstood. If prayer is an expression of love, for example, why should we be mandated to pray at specific times? Why not pray only when we feel like it? This is one of the oldest controversies in Judaism.

On one side we have Maimonides, who argues that the obligation to pray stems from the commandment (Ex. 23:25), Vaavad’tem et Hashem Elokeychem, “And you shall serve the Lrd your Gd.” This means that it’s our obligation to do mitzvot, to pray and praise Gd at the appropriate times, period, no matter whether or not we’re in the mood. More than anything, I believe, this has kept Judaism whole through a millennium of turmoil.

On the other side, Nachmanides believes the commandment to pray is rooted in a verse from next week’s parsha: (Num. 10:9) “When you are at war in your own land against an aggressor who attacks you, you shall sound short blasts on the trumpets, that you may be remembered before the Lrd your Gd and be delivered from your enemies.” And so, when a minute invisible enemy causes a worldwide pandemic shutting down the world and killing millions…when Hamas attacks us with over 4,000 missiles…we cry out: “Hashem help us. Hashem help us!”

Authentic prayer, says Nachmanides, is the voice that rises during times of crisis because that’s when the real self is laid bare. For Nachmanides, prayer is, “I need you.” For Maimonides, it is, “I serve you.”

Who is right? Our tadition says they are both right! Crisis can be a powerful incentive to pray, but you need not have a crisis in your life to find Gd. Without a formalized prayer service and set time to pray, we might never get around to praying. And the very act of praying can raise one to feel that connection with his creator.

Once a congregant asked me, “Rabbi, we recite the same prayers over and over every Shabbos. It’s so repetitive, even boring. Can’t we substitute some new ones in the service?” Now this man came to shule regularly, so it was obvious to me that he wasn’t being facetious.

          He was sincerely seeking a more meaningful prayer experience, and so I gently suggested, “Yes, we can add new prayers, but they will most likely become repetitive after awhile as well. What all of us need to understand is that the prayers of the Siddur were precisely formulated to be templates through which we bring to Gd our own personal prayers. That’s what worshipping Gd is all about.

          “So when we recite the prayer asking Gd to heal the sick, for example, each of us should add a personal prayer for those that we know who are in need of Gd’s healing. When we say the prayer for a year of prosperity, we should add a personal prayer, not only for our own prosperity, but also for those we know who are in need. When we say the prayer for peace, we should add a personal prayer for inner peace and peace for those places in the world in conflict. The problem with our prayer experience is not the prayers we recite, but an inability to understand the great spiritual power they contain and how to access that power.”    

This is why the Talmud cautions us (Mishna Berachot 4:4): “He who makes his recitation of prayer a mechanical task, his prayer is not a prayer of heartfelt supplication.” And so, when we pray with a full heart adding our personal prayers, prayer becomes not just another religious obligation, but an opportunity to re-energize our souls as we connect with Gd.

If you don’t know how to begin, I suggest you read the first few chapters in my book, Dancing With God: How to Connect with God Every Time You Pray. It’s all about how to begin a regular prayer routine.

And if connect with Gd in prayer every morning, it will, no doubt, help you face the day ahead. No matter what the challenges the day brings, you will face it strengthened by the spiritual connection you made earlier.

It’s like a young child who goes to a park with his mother. The child wants to climb the monkey bars, slide down the slide and play with the other children. He feels comfortable doing all this, even wandering into a field by himself, only if he can still see his mother. He can go far, but as long as he knows that mother is watching, he knows he’s OK.

My friends, we are the children of Gd. As long as we know our Ultimate Parent (Gd) is with us—watching as we face the trials of life—we know we’ll be OK. There’s no better way of achieving that spiritual level, of being able to carry that feeling with you always, than by praying every day.

The Torah repeats each of the individual offerings of the n’siim, the tribal princes, to drive home the point that the repetition of mitzvot, the repetition of our prayers is a good thing, but only if we make the effort. Amen!