Parshas Nasso 5785
The Jewish People may well be known as The People of The Book, but it is not the Chumash with which they have the most familiarity. That title must go to the Siddur. For the average observant Jew, it is the siddur that contains the most passages by far that can be readily recited by heart. An average shul-goer can rattle off most of a weekday Shacharis without ever needing to peer inside the siddur’s printed pages.
In part, it is that very familiarity that can make prayer such a challenging enterprise. People naturally crave novelty, and that is largely absent in an exercise that calls for reciting the same words over and over and over again.
So why do it? Why not permit prayer to be a largely freestyle experience?
One of the most classical answers is that there’s simply too much on the line. The siddur was constructed to touch upon all the most crucial asks we must make of Hashem, and were we to veer towards the subjectively gripping rather than the objectively necessary, we may leave critical elements out of our Tefilah.
Stick to the script, because we need to remember what to ask Hashem for.
But perhaps there’s more to it. Stick to the script, because we need to remember what to ask of ourselves.
Parshas Nasso contains the one miracle of the Bais Hamikdash explicitly mentioned in the Torah. Though we know of the supernatural fortune-telling properties of the Urim V’Tumim worn in the folds of the Kohen Gadol’s choshen, and of the fire that descended from Heaven to consume the korbanos, such miracles are not openly spoken of in the Torah. Sotah, on the other hand, is.
The Ramban explains that the miracle of the Sotah waters is more critical than the rest. For it is through this process that shalom bayis may be reconstituted within the fraying marriage of the husband and wife now standing in the Bais Hamikdash. The supernatural destruction of an adulterous woman needs to be on the table in order to fully exonerate the innocent woman for whom nothing will happen when she drinks from the waters. And when that happens, husband and wife can hopefully reconcile, returning home with renewed commitment to one another.
It is for this selfsame reason, explains the Ramban, that the offer of such miracles was ultimately rescinded. The Gemara in Sotah 47a notes that when the number of adulterers increased, Hashem halted the effect of the Sotah waters. The Ramban explains that whereas Hashem was willing to put supernatural phenomena into effect in order to save the Jewish marriage, He was no longer willing to with the preponderance of individuals who were disinterested in respecting marriage to begin with. Hashem would provide a miracle to restore a Jewish wife back to her Jewish husband and clear her name. But if that same Jewish husband was guilty of his own sinful escapades with other women, Hashem would have no part in the business.
In effect, Hashem was not interested in perpetuating hypocrisy.
Which perhaps is a further reason to insist upon using the same exact Shmoneh Esrei three times daily. That for all the potential monotony in reciting the same words again and again, it is critical not only that we be reminded of the most crucial items to ask from Hashem, but to demand of ourselves as well. That we have not just a prayer book, but a playbook.
Hashem has no interest in perpetuating hypocrisy. So when we ask Him for wisdom and insight—for ourselves, for our children, for the future son-in-law who should be a respectable talmid chacham—we need to demonstrate with our own behavior that this is indeed a value we hold dear. That Torah is not only something we seek out in prayer, but in our daily schedules.
When we ask for shalom—for Hashem to bless us all with peace and tranquility—we must help to shoulder that burden along with Him. To hold our tongues, to not be demanding, to be ready and willing to turn the other cheek, to be embracing of those who may not quite be our cup of tea.
We cannot reasonably ask Hashem for parnassah without the willingness to work hard to earn it. We cannot genuinely ask Hashem for health while doing everything to undermine our own wellbeing. We cannot ask for pure, upright children if we’re not willing to roll up our sleeves and set them on the right path ourselves, right alongside Hashem.
The siddur is a register of all that we must ask Hashem for. But also must serve as a thrice-daily reminder that this is how we must live our own lives as well. Contained within these pages are the goals and aspirations we must have for ourselves. The values to which we dedicate ourselves. If the siddur doesn’t serve as a reminder to look inward, how can we sincerely use it to express our prayers upward?
The long list of requests we make of Hashem many times a day touches nearly on the miraculous. We are asking Hashem for charmed lives, for the natural order to be bent and shaped according to our interests and desires. But no matter. Hashem has displayed–through Sotah and beyond–His utter willingness to perform miracles for the Jewish People. So long as those requests and prayers are made in earnest. That we only ask Hashem for the hopes and dreams that we, too, are committed to seeing fulfilled.