Reflections on the DIVINE Dialogue
Way back in September, in the run up to Rosh Hashana, we posted four pieces in seven days, and somehow this one got lost in the shuffle. For all those whose heads were buried in their Tehillim's last Elul, here's what you missed:
Three steps back, a perfunctory nod to the left followed by one to the right, a few mumbled words facing forward and you’re but two words away from shlepping through yet one more Shemoneh Esrei. Those two words are V’eemru ahmain, and at this point Shlomo Zalman Auerbach z”l suggests that one reflect on the kind of Amidah he just davened.
Reflect?
Most
of us, nebach, were mentally past the last two words before we even
uttered the first two. So now with but two words to go to the finish
line we’re supposed to slam on the brakes to bring the express to a halt
and reflect, as if we were philosophers, on the davening we just blew
through at warp speed.
What’s so important about these two words anyway?
If
people actually understood that they were addressing malachim (one good
and one bad), and asking them to say AMEN to the nineteen pit stops
that served as way stations during their five minute trek across the
expanse of their spaced out universe, they might be too ashamed to
finish the Shemoneh Esrei.
More
specifically, we are asking the malachim to sign off on our ruminations
over the stock market in Boreich Aleinu, our reflections on the Yankees
in Shema Koleinu, the deal that slipped through our fingers in Re’ay,
and the deal we hope to make today in Modim, to name but a few of our
imaginative wanderings.
Okay,
so most of us are somewhere else when we’re davening Shemoneh Esrei,
and we’re not that picky about it either. Apparently, anyplace will do,
the only criteria being that we wind up “there” as opposed to “here.”
The
irony, of course, is that those who are focused on their davening are
also someplace else. Proper d’veikus and kavanah means going to another
planet. Those who do it right aren’t here during that time either.
It’s
quite unbelievable when you think about it. We call it Tefillah
B’Tzibur but everyone’s “there” in one form or the other, except for the
two malachim. They’re here, and they are waiting for those last two
words. The good news, however, is that they aren’t all that makpid.
If
your mind took you to a place where you talked to Hashem, they will
answer your Amen with one of their own. But if you drifted off to a
place (or rather places) where the whole world talked to you,
fugetaboutit.
You’ll get another chance to change addresses at Mincha.
