In the Jewish liturgy, there is a
dynamic fluctuation between communal and private prayer. On Yom Kippur,we are reminded that each of us is alone before G-d, yet we are
standing before Him as one united body: Kehal Yisrael.
In many of the
commentaries on the workings of the Yom Kippur "process", the lack of genuine teshuvah
(return in repentance) of just one community member can be seen as crucial
to the acceptability of the prayer of the group. Fortunately, we believe in a G-d who is compassionate and merciful to all of us.
We also believe that the merits of the tzadikim can shield us from the rigours of strict Justice. Similarly, the merits of the
righteous tzaddikim in an apparently insignificant small congregation have the potential to elevate the spiritual standing of the
entire community of Israel.
The inter-relationship between the individual and the collective is dotted
throughout the Torah. In Parshat Ahare Mot, for example, we
read of the detailed instructions for the liturgy of the High Priest on Yom
Kippur, the Day for Atonement. The
proximate Parshat Kedoshim speaks of the ways we are enjoined to “love
our neighbour as ourselves” (Vayikra 19:18). The two are, not surprisingly, very closely
related: The ritual act of atonement consists in the three steps of (i) praying
for oneself; (ii)praying for one’s near
ones; and (iii) praying for the wider community (Vayikra 16:17). This process begins with a prayer for oneself
but then moves on to two further prayers for others. The first flows into the other two because
that first self-focused prayer exists primarily to make our subsequent prayers
for the community acceptable.
Prayer is one of the deepest and
most selfless forms of caring for others that we are privileged to exercise as
human partners in the Divine Plan.
It is a hidden activity which does
not draw attention to the ego, and it can be exercised not just by Leviim and
Kohanim, but by anyone with a good and pure intention. Such profound and
atoning prayer may be performed in physical solitude or in the midst of a
congregation— It is a paradox of Jewish prayer that it is always communal and
(at its most profound) always a matter of an individual’s intimate communion
with G-d.
When it is performed in solitude one never
prays “outside” the community, and when one prays in the company of other daveners,
the real “business” still takes place in the sanctuary of one’s own heart.
In Vayikra we read the instructions
for the High Priest on Yom Kippur:
“And there shall
be no man in the tent of meeting when he goes in to make atonement for the holy
place, until he comes out after having made atonement for himself, and for his
household, and for all the assembly of Israel.”
Vayikra 16:17
Though the vast majority of
halakhic commentaries on the liturgy place communal prayer in a firm position
of superiority over individual prayer, and though the strictest and most
physical conception of “ minyan ” is the
one which has prevailed to this day—the fact remains that the principal
prayer in our principal liturgical ceremony, on our most holy day
is performed by a single individual in
clearly commanded isolation.
He enters and prays alone, but (as
his vestments underline) the High Priest takes the whole community on his
shoulders and bears them on his heart.
So do we if we bind ourselves to the whole Community of Israel
and to those we pray for. We may pray
alone, but if our prayer is to be true—we never pray without this awareness of
the community. It is for this reason that the Arizal is said to have recommended that one begin the
daily services with the declaration.
“Hareini mekabel 'alai mitsvat asei shel ve-ahavta
le-re'akha kamokha”
(I hereby accept
upon myself the positive commandment to love my fellow as myself.)
If we pray with and in the community—
we are remembering that our solitary prayers are always for the benefit
of all.
We too can stand before the ark in
that place of solitary pleading and encounter if G-d should choose that we
might be admitted. We are not high priests and yet we are invited to stand in The
Presence whenever we enter into liturgical or contemplative prayer with a whole
heart—with burning deveykut and the intention to draw close our G-d.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev
said that a person who prays with sincerity is actually standing in the Holy of
Holies when they pray, and that such a person’s upheld hands are like the
wings of the keruvim above the ark.
Before davening, we bind ourselves
in hiskashrut to the merits of those greater than ourselves in the hope
that we may ourselves be elevated. Thus strengthened, our prayers may be of
more use to those for whom we pray, and for those who may need our
assistance. In this context, it is said that Rebbe Mikhal of
Zlotchov used to begin his davening with the prayer:
"I join myself to
all of Israel:
To those who are more
than I,
that through them I may
rise-
and to those who are
less than I,
so that they may rise
through my thought."
(M.
Buber "Tales of the Hasidim" p150)
In such a broad community of saints and sinners, we are never alone in
prayer and we have a duty to make our contemplative lives an activity of community-focused
chesed and atonement worthy of one such as Aharon the High Priest.
Nachman Davies
Erev Yom Kippur 5778
(September 29 2017)
