Talking with our hands

Israelis are known for talking with their hands. Observe any curbside exchange from the window of a passing bus, and you quickly measure the temperature and intensity of the sharing. One weekday afternoon when I was immersed in my Talmud learning at the Kotel, I noticed an elderly gentleman struggling to wave people over to assemble a minyan of for Mincha. I had not planned on interrupting my learning was feeling sure he would soon have his minyan - since minyanim consistently assemble every few minutes at the Kotel, and dozens of minyanim had convened in the hour that I had been attending to my learning that afternoon. For some reason he was growing desperate, still short of 10, so I rose from where I had been learning to join him. Perhaps he was in a rush, I thought, so now was as good a time as any for me to pray Mincha.

I shall not soon forget what turned out to be an uncommonly moving weekday Mincha service. There was an intensity about this gentleman’s davening – manifested in his shaking his hands heavenward every time he intoned the word Attah (“You”/”God”) in his repetition of the Amidah. He was talking to God with his hands. The works of God’s hands fill our world – cosmic and personal. How fitting that this earnest gentleman taught me one way to return the favor.

Flowing to and from God

God and human beings communicate primarily through words.  Sacred text insinuates God’s will, ways, designs, and dreams into our consciousness.  We, in kind, pray via sacred siddur passages.  But, just as communication happens ineffably, through deeds and other forms of expression, so too communication for non-human entities flows to and from God.  As photosynthesis is about a ‘give and take’ of elements, so too organisms of every variety respond to God in ways commensurate with the flow of sustenance from God to them.  Each morning’s opening blessing, affirms the way the rooster’s response to dawn awakens us to the symphony of nature’s flow to and from God.

Cosmic intimacy

Each morning, when we pray to God as Creator of the vast earth and ever-expanding heavens, we do so employing Divine attributes which are immanent, tender, and loving.  What might this suggest?  “God, we hold You in awe – not out of fear – but because of Your endless propensity to forgive.”

Redemption decisions

God’s deliverance is depicted by a mighty hand and outstretched arm.  Why not simply say mighty hand?  Wouldn’t that make the point of Divine supportive intervention sufficiently?  Perhaps the additional phrase outstretched arm holds deeper meaning.  Z’roa netuya in addition to being an outstretched arm can also be translated as an inclination to seed.  To be inclined to seed goodness, at any given time, in any given place, is how we live in God’s image.  At first glance, this anthropomorphic image seems historically remote.  Yet by this reading, the Image may be as near as our next (redemptive) decision.

M’chalkel Hayim B’hesed

Just as it is God’s way (biblically and today) to structure experiences wherein we teach ourselves life-lessons, the Kopitchenizter spoke earnestly of the task of a Rabbi to help people with certain talents interact with other people who have complimentary needs.  Be a shadhan (matchmaker) for Hesed moments among strangers.

Timing, timing, timing

The reason why the Talmud’s first question (about the timing of saying the Shema) is when, is because one never knows when a word, a work, an encounter or an experience is going to enter and establish residence in the inner life of an individual.  Central to the Talmud’s opening word for when, Ma’aimatai, is the aima, the reverent wonder than opens us up to connections with God’s content and causes.