With Regard to Prayer

From The Bedside Torah, Wisdom, Visions, and Dreams
by Rabbi bradley Shavit Artson

Parashat Hayei Sarah/ The Life of Sarah

"One of the universals of human culture is the need to commune with something larger, something that extends beyond ourselves. We all feel the desire to speak, to create, to perform. One aspect of the human urge to communicate is worship--awakening to the awe of existence, the staggering marvel of the world and its order. Awe moves us to a silent expression of gratitude and wonder. Awe moves us to worship.
    For many Jews, worship has come to mean the formal ritual of reading the prayers of other, earlier Jews from the printed Siddur (prayer book); listening to the chanted words of the Torah and the Haftarah; and absorbing the insights of the rabbi's sermon. Worship is public, planned, and cyclical. How many of us, though, approach God with the simple outpouring of our own hearts? Isn't it true that the notion of just speaking with God in our intimate personal voices sounds strikingly un-Jewish?
    Yet consider today's Torah portion. Abraham's nameless servant is assigned the task of traveling to a distant land to find a bride for the patriarch's son. Overwhelmed by the gravity and seriousness of his mission...the servant simply sits and speaks, "O, Lord, God of my master Abraham," he prays with neither formula nor poetry, "grant me good fortune this day, and deal graciously with master Abraham" (24:12). 
    The servant speaks to God with a directness borne of necessity. Filled with a sense of the uncertainty of his task, aware of his own limitations, he turns to the Source of Life and shares his fear...
    Do we worry that speaking to God is superstitious? That God doesn't answer prayer. That God doesn't hear prayer? That there is no God? 
    Yet discomfort with spontaneous prayer does a disservice to our sacred tradition, to our deepest needs and to our relationship with God. 
    Prayer is not philosophy; it need not justify itself at the bench of reason, consistency, or sophistication. Prayer is what the Talmud calls "the labor of the heart." It is answerable to the heart alone.
    Our possible discomfort with spontaneous prayer can lead us to the very first prayer we need: "Help me, Lord, to pray." Or, in the words preceding the Shabbat Amidah, the silent standing prayer, "Open my mouth, Lord, and my lips will proclaim Your praise."
    If you are uncomfortable with words, teach yourself to sit with silence. Let your awareness of your need become your prayer; let your awareness of God's love be your answer. 
    If you need to pray, if your sorrows or your joys move you to speak from a simple "thank you' to an elaborate speech, then pray. If you rise from your prayers a more sensitive and aware person, your prayer was worthwhile."