By Beth Nichols

 

In 1962 Rabbi Jerome Lipnick wrote about the degradation of prayer and the difficulty he confronted in leading his congregation in a meaningful prayer experience.  He writes, “At times I feel like inviting the congregation to read a prayer over in advance, and then proposing: ‘If you subscribe to its sentiment, recite it. If not, you may keep your silence.’”  He continues, “Many of us don’t pray at all, others too easily, most of us thoughtlessly.”  Rabbi Lipnick suggests four directions that he believes may help to elevate prayer’s influence on our lives, the final of which is to include more silence in the service, for he believes, “We have to learn to sit, and to think, and to commune with God, to feel the inexpressible and to sense the unexpressed.”  Prayer, he writes, “should be a transforming power.”

            In silence, we can move beyond the framework of the siddur and focus on our own evolving relationship with God.  Silent prayer offers us an opportunity to make prayer more immediate to us: providing us with a space where we can choose to use words and thoughts that reflect our current state of mind.  Imagine what it would be like if we had a machine with the power to record our silent prayers.  We could look back and see every conversation we have ever had with God.   This machine could show us the details of our ever-changing relationship with God: the periods of doubt, anger, awe, trust or gratitude; the times when we had nothing to say and the times when silent prayer was not long enough to express our emotions.  

In this week’s parsha, Vayishlach, we have a chance to read a piece of Jacob’s printout.  Following God’s command to return to the land of his birth, Jacob is preparing to reunite with his brother Esau.  Jacob’s messengers report that his brother is approaching with 400 men.  Vayira Ya’akov m’od vayetzer lo.  Jacob was greatly frightened and distressed.  Jacob prepares for his meeting with Esau in three ways:  He strategically divides his camp in two, sends gifts of livestock to Esau, and prays to God. 

We often turn to prayer in moments of happiness and blessing, but it is in these moments of fear and uncertainty that Jacob, like many of us, turns to prayer.  In Vayetze, last week’s portion, Jacob speaks with God at another time of uncertainty, when he flees from his father’s tent.  After dreaming of the ladder up to Heaven and hearing God’s promises of land and numerous descendants, Jacob first speaks to God.  This first encounter, however, is not exactly a prayer, but rather a vow.  Jacob vows, “If God will be with me,” and, here I’m paraphrasing, protect me, feed me, clothe me, and return me to my father’s house, then, quote Adonai shall be God to me, and this stone that I have set up as a standing-pillar shall become a house of God…” If…Then…The Jacob making this vow has doubts and his prayer to God is guarded.

In Vayishlach, the tone of Jacob’s prayer to God shows an evolution and maturing of Jacob’s faith.  Jacob first reminds God of God’s instruction to return to the land and God’s promise to “deal well” with Jacob.  Unlike the adolescent Jacob, the adult Jacob, the husband and father, does not follow this reminder with a conditional vow of observance, but with a humbling of himself.   Jacob cries out, “Katonti -- Too small am I for all the faithfulness and trust that you have shown your servant.”  Rashbam explains that Jacob is acknowledging that God has fulfilled all the promises made as Jacob fled, but that he, Jacob, has not fulfilled his vow and has not worshipped God as he should have. 

            The Jacob that we read of in this account trusts in God.  He is petrified of Esau – not, however, because he doubts God’s ability to save him, but because he doubts, according to Rashi, his own merit.  While the first Jacob was guarded, this Jacob believes in God, and asks for God’s help. 

We are all familiar with that night, when Jacob wrestles with an unknown man or angel during the night and is renamed Yisrael.  The next day, the reunion of the brothers passes without incident.  If we return for a moment to Jacob’s vow in Vaytze, we see that if God returned Jacob safely to his father’s land, Jacob vowed to return to Bet-El to dedicate a house of God.  Instead, Jacob and his family settle in Sukkot and then in Shechem.  It is not until God commands Jacob to return to Bet-El to build an altar to God that Jacob fulfills his promise. 

            When examining Jacob’s evolving faith in God, one may be troubled by Jacob’s waiting to return to Bet-El.  The faith shown in his prayer to God comes into question in his silence following his safe return to the land.  What kept him from returning to Bet-El?  From fulfilling his vow?  One possible answer derives from the preparations that Jacob makes before traveling there.  Jacob commands his household, “Rid yourselves of the alien gods in your midst.” He tells them, “I will build an altar there to the God who answered me when I was in distress and who has been with me wherever I have gone.”  Jacob is no longer alone, and therefore, returning to Bet-El cannot be a personal spiritual mission, but must necessarily involve his family.  Jacob brings his family into his relationship with God, demanding that they too rid themselves of idols. 

Perhaps there is not a contradiction between the trust in God that we hear in Jacob’s prayer and his reluctance to return to Bet-El.  Returning to Bet-El was a physical demonstration of his belief that would affect not only his, but his entire family’s way of life.  Think back to when you reached new conclusions about your faith in God.  How did those decisions manifest themselves physically?  Did they affect your family?  Did your family play a role in your decision to observe an additional mitzvah?  We know that Jacob believed in God, but perhaps he was struggling with transforming his belief from an inner belief to a physically and communally demonstrated belief. 

Rabbi Lipnick titled his article, “The Broken Ladder of Prayer.”  Jacob began his journey at the bottom of a ladder, where perhaps we can say that his prayer was broken, for he struggled with the uncertainty of God’s promises.  We then saw Jacob develop trust in God and finally make the step to demonstrate his trust through worship.

We too, have periods when our ladders are broken.  When we question God’s justice or God’s accessibility to us.  And at other times we experience the trust in God that Jacob demonstrated.  And like Jacob, we too may at times be reluctant to act out our faith.  Unsure of how it will affect us and our community.

Let us see this year as one in which we can move beyond our “broken ladders.” Rabbi Lipnick believed in the power of silence.  Many of the most powerful Biblical encounters of God were in moments of solitude and silence.  Just as Jacob encountered God in a dream, or alone on the opposite bank of the river, I encourage you to use the silence in our services to explore your relationship with God.  And while Jacob’s relationship with God changed and matured throughout the story, his new name, Yisrael, one who wrestles with God, reminds us that struggling to connect with God is perpetual.  May we find in our prayers ways to repair the rungs of our ladders and may we strive to struggle with God.