by Aliza Arzt
People who choose to engage in a regular activity, which could include going to work, exercising or preparing a meal, often confront the repetitive nature of what they’re doing, but still manage to find it worthwhile. Attending davenning regularly is also in this category. Shabbat morning davenning at the Havurah extends roughly from 10:00—12:30 on Saturday mornings and, even though we have different leaders each week, the content of the service varies little. It’s very hard to muster the kind of kavvanah (spiritual intention) that we’d like to have for that amount of time, and I’m constantly searching for insights about what I can do to have more kavvanah (and less boredom!) during davenning. Here are 3 thoughts about what makes community davenning, especially the prolonged Shabbat morning davening, a meaningful and special experience:
Comfort: Those of us who attend Shabbat morning davenning regularly find a degree of comfort in the sameness of the service. There are melodies that we love, psalms that may have significance to us and enjoyment of being with people that we may only see on Shabbat. Engaging in a routine activity can be a kind of comfort food, especially in a world that has been frightening and unpredictable lately. We know the rhythms of the service and may even have consistent places where we tune in or tune out. The year that the community spent davenning exclusively on Zoom during the pandemic made many of us aware of how important the in-person experience of seeing our friends and singing with them was to us. Even though we could see each other in our little boxes on our screens, we couldn’t sing together. This sadness was especially poignant for the parts of the service where we were used to singing rounds or hearing harmony. I’m so grateful for the in-person shared activity that we’ve been able to resume!
Insights from others: Our davenning encourages the leader to bring in other readings and personal insights during the service. This could be a poem, a new melody, a reading sparked by the liturgy, even an off-the-cuff reaction to a psalm that we recite every week. When someone points out that the end of Psalm 147, where we read that God brings snow and ice but then melts it all with a word, mirrors early spring in New England, we may feel a jolt of connection with an ancient poem, written far away from where we live. Sometimes the leader asks a question during davenning and we spend a few minutes considering it and responding. The leader may get reactions that they never thought of before and something that one person says may evoke a reaction in another person that they couldn’t have imagined would occur to them. It’s kind of like opening little presents that we weren’t expecting to get! I’ll add here that some of the changes we’ve made in the davenning can add a spark when those of us who are familiar with the traditional davenning mentally compare them. In the traditional paragraph that ends in “Or Chadash” (“Shine a new light on Zion”) one of the appellations in the list of God’s attributes is “áÌÇòÇì îÄìÀçÈîåÉú”, “Master of wars”. We have changed that to “îÀòåÉøÆÍøÆú ùÀÑìåÉîåÉú”, “awakens peace”. Every now and then, when I read what we say in this paragraph, I think about what we no longer say and feel grateful and excited that we were able to come up with something new and true about how God should be in the world.
Personal Insights: It’s easy to get mired in the same-ness of the davenning. My mind often wanders even if my eyes and my mouth appear to be engaging in the service. Every now and then, unprovoked by anything that anyone else has said, I’ll make a connection on my own that I never thought of before. It’s astonishing to have a new thought or insight about something I’ve been saying every week for almost my whole life. I’ve had that experience when preparing for reading Torah. You’d think that after more than 50 years of leyning, nothing in the Torah could surprise me, but periodically I read a verse and think “Why haven’t I ever notice that before?” In the Shabbat davening, I will sometimes notice phrases and realize that they connect in some way with another part of the service. How could I have missed that all these years? Here’s an example: We were davenning Psalm 124, which focuses on how God rescues us from our enemies as a bird in a trap could be rescued. In the middle of the psalm are two lines about water: “. . . Then the water would have crashed over us, would have swept our souls away. The storm would have washed away our life.” How come we’re suddenly talking about water in the middle of a poem about a trapped bird? All of a sudden, the words of Psalm 93 came to mind: “Greater than the din of rushing waters, greater than the power of sea waves breaking, God’s limitless power is alive in the universe”. The metaphor about God’s power in Psalm 93 provided the key to the apparent off-topic reference to water in Psalm 124. The psalms are talking to each other! Or maybe the author of Psalm 124 is remembering the power of the water in Psalm 93 and evoking this image to explain God’s ability to rescue us. Now I’m in the mind of a psalm poet, sharing their realization!
I realize that I have certain advantages in the area of personal insights into the liturgy: I’m extremely familiar with the text, I understand the Hebrew and I’ve worked on the liturgy for over 40 years. Still, this is not out of anyone’s reach. How should you go about preparing to experience the three elements I’ve discussed above? Here are my recommendations:
Make the investment of time and thought. It’s more than worthwhile.
Comfort: Those of us who attend Shabbat morning davenning regularly find a degree of comfort in the sameness of the service. There are melodies that we love, psalms that may have significance to us and enjoyment of being with people that we may only see on Shabbat. Engaging in a routine activity can be a kind of comfort food, especially in a world that has been frightening and unpredictable lately. We know the rhythms of the service and may even have consistent places where we tune in or tune out. The year that the community spent davenning exclusively on Zoom during the pandemic made many of us aware of how important the in-person experience of seeing our friends and singing with them was to us. Even though we could see each other in our little boxes on our screens, we couldn’t sing together. This sadness was especially poignant for the parts of the service where we were used to singing rounds or hearing harmony. I’m so grateful for the in-person shared activity that we’ve been able to resume!
Insights from others: Our davenning encourages the leader to bring in other readings and personal insights during the service. This could be a poem, a new melody, a reading sparked by the liturgy, even an off-the-cuff reaction to a psalm that we recite every week. When someone points out that the end of Psalm 147, where we read that God brings snow and ice but then melts it all with a word, mirrors early spring in New England, we may feel a jolt of connection with an ancient poem, written far away from where we live. Sometimes the leader asks a question during davenning and we spend a few minutes considering it and responding. The leader may get reactions that they never thought of before and something that one person says may evoke a reaction in another person that they couldn’t have imagined would occur to them. It’s kind of like opening little presents that we weren’t expecting to get! I’ll add here that some of the changes we’ve made in the davenning can add a spark when those of us who are familiar with the traditional davenning mentally compare them. In the traditional paragraph that ends in “Or Chadash” (“Shine a new light on Zion”) one of the appellations in the list of God’s attributes is “áÌÇòÇì îÄìÀçÈîåÉú”, “Master of wars”. We have changed that to “îÀòåÉøÆÍøÆú ùÀÑìåÉîåÉú”, “awakens peace”. Every now and then, when I read what we say in this paragraph, I think about what we no longer say and feel grateful and excited that we were able to come up with something new and true about how God should be in the world.
Personal Insights: It’s easy to get mired in the same-ness of the davenning. My mind often wanders even if my eyes and my mouth appear to be engaging in the service. Every now and then, unprovoked by anything that anyone else has said, I’ll make a connection on my own that I never thought of before. It’s astonishing to have a new thought or insight about something I’ve been saying every week for almost my whole life. I’ve had that experience when preparing for reading Torah. You’d think that after more than 50 years of leyning, nothing in the Torah could surprise me, but periodically I read a verse and think “Why haven’t I ever notice that before?” In the Shabbat davening, I will sometimes notice phrases and realize that they connect in some way with another part of the service. How could I have missed that all these years? Here’s an example: We were davenning Psalm 124, which focuses on how God rescues us from our enemies as a bird in a trap could be rescued. In the middle of the psalm are two lines about water: “. . . Then the water would have crashed over us, would have swept our souls away. The storm would have washed away our life.” How come we’re suddenly talking about water in the middle of a poem about a trapped bird? All of a sudden, the words of Psalm 93 came to mind: “Greater than the din of rushing waters, greater than the power of sea waves breaking, God’s limitless power is alive in the universe”. The metaphor about God’s power in Psalm 93 provided the key to the apparent off-topic reference to water in Psalm 124. The psalms are talking to each other! Or maybe the author of Psalm 124 is remembering the power of the water in Psalm 93 and evoking this image to explain God’s ability to rescue us. Now I’m in the mind of a psalm poet, sharing their realization!
I realize that I have certain advantages in the area of personal insights into the liturgy: I’m extremely familiar with the text, I understand the Hebrew and I’ve worked on the liturgy for over 40 years. Still, this is not out of anyone’s reach. How should you go about preparing to experience the three elements I’ve discussed above? Here are my recommendations:
- If you aren’t familiar with the Shabbat morning davenning (or another service you’d like to get to know better) come to davenning regularly! In addition to Shabbat morning, the Havurah has a short Kabbalat Shabbat every Friday night on Zoom. Be present, let the words wash over you, sing, read, ruminate.
- Listen to what the service leader and other people at davenning are saying when there is an opportunity for discussion or for hearing a new reading or insight. Take it to heart. See if it sparks any thoughts or feelings for you.
- Free associate with the texts you’re reading during davenning. This can be done using either the Hebrew or the English text. Look for lines that you particularly like, lines that don’t seem to fit the rest of the paragraph or poem, words or phrases that remind you of similar words or phrases.
Make the investment of time and thought. It’s more than worthwhile.
Aliza Arzt, a longtime member of Havurat Shalom, is now mercifully retired and really busy!
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