Three Ladies – Three Lattes

Prayer represents the antithesis of the rat race, inviting mediation, observation, internality

With religious leaders, from pastors and rabbis and imams to the pope, praying for peace and justice to prevail in the wake of race riots, how do you ladies feel about the power of prayer to impact on pain?

Shocked and worried,

Scarsdale, New York

Tzippi Sha-ked:

Prayer is a loaded term these days. Dishonest rabbis sometimes trade your hard-earned shekels for a red string talisman or a potion guaranteed to work miracles for your loved ones. Take care! Don’t buy into this farce.

In truth, I felt so disillusioned with some crazy rabbinic pronouncements during COVID about who was and wasn’t immune to the virus. I felt like leading a prayer group for their mental rehabilitation. How dare these extreme rabbis hijack the meaning of meaningful prayer?

Genuine prayer, however, is the great tranquilizer, a necessary elixir and perhaps our greatest hope in these troubled times of pandemics, racial tensions and global riots. More time spent praying translates to less time contemplating what ails us.

My takeaway during this plague is that prayer has become the great unifier, at least in Israel. Take away the shuls and shtiebels from the Jews, and we’re left with street gatherings. There is something meditative and restorative in walking through alleys and hearing the words and songs of prayer permeating the very air we breathe. Even secular Israelis have posted about enjoying the new “street vibe” where prayer has been transported out of four walls into our gardens and shared outdoor space.

I imagine that if prayer were injected into global demonstrations, it would have a therapeutic effect on both the petitioners and audiences at home, as they watch their world unravel. Prayer is the great anesthetizer of pain and the supercharger of humanity’s full potential. Some studies prove that people who pray are happier. According to Dr. Marilyn Schlitz, former lecturer at Harvard, “prayer groups had statistically significant improvements in outcome, suggesting that the intervention has clinical relevance.”

Danit Shemesh:

There has always been a connection between prayer and pain. Pain can be defined as the distance between the desired and the actual. When one feels the pain of vulnerability or instability, prayer is a viable option.

Globally, we live in precarious times that pound angst into our hearts. The riots are indicative of how far we have strayed from the desired path of peace, harmony, self-control and prosperity. In the Western world we have constructed our sociopolitical psyche around control (one-upmanship) and materialism, tenaciously believing that success and power equal happiness, or lack of pain. Are we ready to revisit that axiom?

Prayer represents the antithesis of the rat race. It invites meditation, observation, internality. Of course, prayer can be misused to promote the manipulation of the physical – for example, “Please give me more money/better children.” True prayer is designed to elevate to the metaphysical, the ultimate presumed happy ending, since we pray to a loving omnipotence, even if it’s not yet visible. Rather than deliver God a market list of perceived specific needs, ask to be plugged into the big cosmic picture, of which you are an integral part.

Prayer is called the “work of the heart,” or the development of emotional plasticity. Prayer works not to change the world, but to change ourselves. By simply asking “what do I want?” you reveal to yourself who you truly are on the deepest level, thereby understanding how meaningful your actions in this world are.

Pain and prayer can be springboards to better living, rather than fodder for despair. When you feel helpless in the face of the situation, all you can do is ask the only One who can steer the world to make it right again.

Pam Peled:

I have a personal relationship with prayer. When my young father was dying, over 30 years ago, “give me his mother’s name and I’ll pray for him” wasn’t yet prevalent in Israel. Still, someone got the information to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, who added him to his list.

It didn’t help. God let my dad die a chocking death from lung cancer, though he’d never smoked. By the time my too-young mom got cancer, the power of prayer was everywhere: friends and family added her to their daily mi’shebeirach requests. But my lovely mother died an awful death, fit for an evil sinner.

When my young husband was hit, hundreds of people prayed for him. Friends and family, work colleagues and my students – someone’s son’s whole nursery school added Martin to their list. He died a horrible death.

Soon after that, when someone else had a transient but frightening episode, a teacher in whom I had confided said she’d pray for a speedy recovery. I forbade her – I didn’t want God to know anyone else close to me needed help.

Still, I see how belief that someone has your back can only be empowering. I wish I believed that praying for better times would help them arrive. So far God hasn’t had a great record of eliminating tensions, wars and inequality; perhaps we haven’t prayed hard enough.

Maybe, as Tzippi says, at least during prayers we can’t fight. Possibly prayer improves us, as Danit claims. I davka see many wars have been waged over religion; I’m yet to be convinced that praying brings peace. I hope I’m wrong.

(Hadas Parush/Flash90) PRAYING IN a Western Wall tunnel at the closest physical point (not under Islamic Wakf jurisdiction) to the Holy of Holies, in Jerusalem’s Old City last year.