רְצֵה ה’ אֱלהֵינוּ בְּעַמְּךָ יִשרָאֵל וְלִתְפִלָּתָם שְׁעֵה. וְהָשֵׁב אֶת הָעֲבודָה לִדְבִיר בֵּיתֶךָ. וְאִשֵּׁי יִשרָאֵל וּתְפִלָּתָם. מְהֵרָה בְּאַהֲבָה תְקַבֵּל בְּרָצון. וּתְהִי לְרָצון תָּמִיד עֲבודַת יִשרָאֵל עַמֶּךָ. וְתֶחֱזֶינָה עֵינֵינוּ בְּשׁוּבְךָ לְצִיּון בְּרַחֲמִים: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’. הַמַּחֲזִיר שְׁכִינָתו לְצִיּון – Be pleased, Hashem, our God, with Your people Israel and pay need to their prayer; and restore the service to the Holy of Holies in Your abode, and the fire-offerings of Israel; and accept their prayer, lovingly and willingly. And may You always find pleasure with the service of Your people, Israel.
Intro
The opening three blessings of the Amida identify and praise God, the middle section consists of personal and communal requests, and the Amida concludes with thanksgiving blessings.
And yet, the thanksgiving blessings also contain requests: the blessing for peace and light, and this blessing. Unlike how we might offer thanks to another person, these thanksgiving blessings also combine an element of request.
If a child approaches their father and says what a nice father he is, it might be natural to suspect the child is about to ask for something he wants.
The way to thank the Creator fundamentally differs from how we might thank the average person. When thanking someone who has helped you, it typically means that your need for their help has concluded, and you no longer need their help. If you were to thank someone and then ask for more, it would be interpreted as disingenuous, that you aren’t thankful at all, and your display of gratitude is a pretext to what you actually want – more.
But with the Creator, it’s impossible to say thank you like that or outgrow God’s help.
As R’ Yitzchak Hutner notes, the Hebrew word for thanksgiving doesn’t just mean thanks; it also means to confess – מודה / lhodos CITE. When we thank another, we concede that we need the assistance of another, admitting our frail weakness and showing our vulnerability. We acknowledge that another has shared gifts with us, big and small, to help us achieve goodness in our lives.
God is the source of all we are given, from the greatest to the smallest thing; by definition, we can have nothing, and there can be nothing without God; it follows that thanking God includes asking for more.
רְצֵה ה’ אֱלהֵינוּ בְּעַמְּךָ יִשרָאֵל –
The blessing opens by asking God to want our prayers and service, but like the opening of the previous blessing, it seems circular – you either want something or you don’t.
On Rosh Hashana, the prayers we sing liken us to sons and servants – אבינו מלכינו / hayom haras olam, im kvanim im kavadim – CITE. There are aspects in which we relate to God as Father and others in which we relate to God as Master; the relationship is fundamentally different. During a period where we serve Hashem properly, we are His sons, and (ch” v) in a time where the Jews do not serve Hashem properly, the Jews are downgraded to the status of servants.
A servant works for reward and is motivated by economics. He does nothing extra and earns nothing extra. A son, however, does as his father tells him out of love. And in turn, the father loves the child. But the child has a further ability. When the son enjoys or loves something, the father ensures his son has access to the thing he loves, and to a large degree, the father then cares for something, not because he values it, but because his son does.
When a child asks his mother for pizza on a good day, she will take her child to the pizza store; she now wants to get him pizza. If they’re closed or sold out, the child might be disappointed, and so will his mother; the child’s desire has created and influenced the mother’s desire. The parent’s desire isn’t intrinsic but responsive to her child. For that to happen, her child has to act like a child and be a good kid. If it’s disobedience and tantrums, there will be no pizza.
Our sages teach that if we do God’s will, God will make His will into ours.
When a mother tells her son to clean his room, he might sigh and complain, and his mother might say she wants him to want to do it. Recognizing how much his mother does for him, he might decide it’s not so bad to cooperate, and his mother will be touched and think her son is amazing for wanting what she wants.
A servant is someone who subordinates their will; they follow the employer’s instructions.
If we act towards God as Father in one context, perhaps it makes what we want elsewhere God’s will in that context.
We ask God to desire something that may not be intrinsically attractive; we want God to want. The word for simple Jews in Hebrew is the people – עַמְּךָ. They’re not righteous, not wicked, just ordinary everyday folks, Jews, and nothing else. We ask God to desire the simple Jews, not just the righteous, and the fighting and trying their best, embodied by the name Yisrael, the title Yakov received after battling an angel.
וְהָשֵׁב אֶת הָעֲבודָה לִדְבִיר בֵּיתֶךָ
We ask God to restore sacrificial order, the conventional translation of service. And yet, there is a broader definition as well, the word for prayer – avoda she b’lev CITE
As long as Jews have prayed, prayers are meant to face Jerusalem and the Beis Hamikdash, the spiritual center. It was the site of one of the most captivating stories in the Torah, Jacob’s Ladder.
The Torah tells how Yakov fled from his enraged murderous brother Esau to the house of his uncle Lavan, in far off Haran. Along the way, and in between places, Yakov put his head down for some rest and had a vivid prophetic dream:
וַיַּחֲלֹם וְהִנֵּה סֻלָּם מֻצָּב אַרְצָה וְרֹאשׁוֹ מַגִּיעַ הַשָּׁמָיְמָה וְהִנֵּה מַלְאֲכֵי אֱלֹהִים עֹלִים וְיֹרְדִים בּוֹ – He had a dream; a ladder was planted on the ground, and its top reached to the sky, and angels of God were going up and down on it. (28:12)
Jacob’s Ladder is a universal motif with many counterparts in mythology. It is known as an axis mundi — also called the cosmic axis, world axis, cosmic bridge, world bridge, cosmic pillar, world pillar, the center of the world, or world tree; and they universally serve as a connection between Heaven and Earth, a bridge between higher and lower realms. The axis mundi is almost always a center point, where blessings from higher realms descend to lower realms and disseminate to all.
A bridge and ladder function in the same way, except that a bridge is for lateral movement, and a ladder is for vertical movement. There are two separate domains, and there is no way to move from one to the other; they are separated with distinct boundaries that cannot be crossed. A bridge or ladder crosses the gap, linking the domains so the disparate parts can interact.
The cosmic bridge works in the same way, expressing contact and correspondence between higher and lower realms – מֻצָּב אַרְצָה וְרֹאשׁוֹ מַגִּיעַ הַשָּׁמָיְמָה. In Jacob’s Ladder, angels ascend and descend – וְהִנֵּה מַלְאֲכֵי אֱלֹהִים עֹלִים וְיֹרְדִים בּוֹ – overtly symbolizing a kind of transfer, reciprocal interaction, and exchange of energy where Heaven comes to Earth, and Earth is elevated to Heaven.
Our sages identify the location of Yakov’s dream disparately as Mount Sinai, Mount Moriah, the Land of Israel, or imagining a diagonally aligned ladder, some combination of these. Still, the effect is the same – the cosmic bridge is at one of these spiritual centers, a place where Heaven and Earth can meet and blessing comes into the world. Legend has it that beneath the Beis HaMikdash on Mount Moriah, possibly the Dome of the Rock and the site of the Akeida, lies the Foundation Stone – אבן השתיה – the focal point and source of creation, itself tying intimately into the imagery of a source of blessing, connection, and expansiveness.
The motif of a world bridge is recursive – once you know how to spot it, you see it everywhere. Our sages note how Sinai has the same numerical value as Jacob’s ladder – סלם / סיני – suggesting that the Torah is a kind of world bridge. The Midrash indicates that the sacrificial offerings were a world bridge; the altar is described as “of the earth” – מִזְבַּח אֲדָמָה – and legend has it that the smokestack wouldn’t diffuse into the air; it rose in a straight line, straight up to the sky – a world bridge. Many have noted that the expression for prayer and voice also has the same numerical value as Jacob’s ladder – סולם / קול.
Our sages suggest that our homes and marriages are reflections of the Beis HaMikdash – both are called בית, and both are a spiritual center and foundation – and so, like the Beis HaMikdash, are themselves reflections of a world bridge.
The prophets called the Beis Hanmikdash beisi beis tefila
interface between physical and spiritual
Wherever we are, we steer our prayers to one place: the Jewish People’s and perhaps the world’s spiritual focal point and gateway. They centralize and pool; our prayers are not isolated in whatever exile we may be in.
We ask God to beat the system He created.
You can apply for a job; if you know the hiring manager, they might steer you to the finish line. Although the application process has a fixed process, the people who fix it have the discretion to modify it.
We ask God to make our prayer more beautiful than it is, to find some way to make it work for us.
Part of our appreciation of God is acknowledging that we can’t do anything without God; that’s what gives the prayer beauty and potency.
God can listen to a broken heart without words and hear us saying it as praise. This is how God does it, even if the prayer is mediocre or nonexistent from a simple Jew – just because they are a Jew. That’s enough and worthy of appreciation.
When you ask for an iPad, you ask for an iPad, but you don’t talk about the process of buying it. But when you thank someone for buying you an iPad, an elevated thank you will thank the process, for going out your way, shopping, ordering, trying, wrapping, etc.
Prayer or animals
Although prayer does appear obliquely or sporadically in the Torah, it is not the predominant mode of worship in the Torah or the ancient world the Torah appeared in, an era where animal sacrifice was a near cultural universal. Our sages went out of their way to teach that prayer doesn’t just appear in the Torah; prayer stands in as a direct replacement or substitute for the lapsed sacrifices of long ago.
Our prayers are replete with requests to restore Jerusalem and rebuild the Beis HaMikdash. However, authorities are divided on whether the future we yearn for heralds a restoration or replacement of animal sacrifice. While that remains speculative until we find out, it is probably fair to say that it is hard for people in the modern world to wrap their heads around animal sacrifice.
Today’s near cultural universal is that animal sacrifice is alien and weird, perhaps even disgusting and nasty. Most people don’t want to watch an animal get slaughtered; any arcane mysticism is hard to imagine over the blood and gore.
That leaves prayer in a bit of a void; prayer is a stand-in or substitute for animal sacrifice, and yet an animal sacrifice is hard to relate to in almost every conceivable way, so far removed as it is from our primary experience. Moreover, the Torah has long sections devoted to the different categories and kinds of sacrifice and their details and nuances; sacrifice is clearly the primary mode of worship in the Torah’s conception, so prayer seems second-rate.
Either way, prayer is hard to understand. If prayer and sacrifice aren’t connected, why bother with something the Torah doesn’t validate as having much significance? And if prayer is connected to sacrifice, what element of sacrifice do we even relate to?
The Torah opens the section on sacrifices by outlining a scenario where someone wants to bring an offering:
‘אָדָם כִּי־יַקְרִיב מִכֶּם קרְבָּן לַהֹ – When one of you presents an offering for God… (1:2)
Although not readily obvious in translation, the Torah utilizes highly unusual language here. Rather than present the sensible scenario where one of you wants to bring an offering, it literally translates to when someone offers an offering of you, which is to say, literally of yourselves – אָדָם מִכֶּם כִּי־יַקְרִיב / אָדָם כִּי־יַקְרִיב מִכֶּם.
The Baal HaTanya notes that this reading suggests that at the earliest juncture, the Torah already indicates that as much it’s going to talk about animal offerings, it’s not about the animal at all; it’s about the part of yourself you’re willing to offer, and prayer would operate in much the same way – יַקְרִיב מִכֶּם.
R’ Jonathan Sacks teaches that the conventional notion of sacrifice isn’t really reflected in the Hebrew term – קרְבָּן. We think of sacrifice as giving something up when the Hebrew word actually means something more like drawing closer – קרב. You interact with the divine not with what you give up but by drawing close with what you have; in offering the material to God, you transform the material into the sacred.
God doesn’t need our stuff and can’t receive it in any tangible way; the Malbim teaches that all a person can ever offer is themselves, which mirrors precisely what the Torah calls for here – יַקְרִיב מִכֶּם. The Sfas Emes explains that the notion articulated here is that sacrifice and prayer are about aligning ourselves and resources to God’s broader plan; prayer isn’t secondary to sacrifice; it is the same.
While the form of seeking out the divine may have changed over time depending on the zeitgeist, the substance has remained constant. At the root of all mysticism is a desire to connect with the divine transcendence, and our sages have long identified the inner world of the heart as the battlefield of spirituality – עבודה שבלב. So we can read the Yom Kippur atonement ritual that seems odd to modern sensibilities, yet it maintains relevance to our prayers because the substance transcends the form of the performative aspect; that God forgives humans who want to make amends, goats and string or not.
It’s not the form of how it appears so much as it’s about the substance of how it is – אחד המרבה ואחד ואחד הממעיט ובלבד שיכוין לבו לשמים.
As Moshe said to his audience, our Creator is always close, quite different from other gods they might have heard of who can only be invoked with specific rituals – כִּי מִי־גוֹי גָּדוֹל אֲשֶׁר־לוֹ אֱלֹקים קְרֹבִים אֵלָיו כַּה’ אֱלֹקינוּ בְּכל־קרְאֵנוּ אֵלָיו.
The Izhbitzer suggests that our subconscious hearts and minds hope and pray all the time. When you whisper “Please, God,” hope for the best, or wish that things turn out okay, those unspoken but very real thoughts are prayers that bring tangible wisps of warmth into the world that affirm and sustain, from which things can and will eventually grow – קָרוֹב ה’ לְכָל קֹרְאָיו לְכֹל אֲשֶׁר יִקְרָאֻהוּ בֶאֱמֶת.
As the Kotzker said, where can we find God? Wherever we let Him in.
Sacrifice, like prayer, was always about the inner world of the spirit, about opening your heart and yourself to the universe.
Add substituting prayers for service – וּנְשַׁלְּמָה פָרִים שְׂפָתֵינוּ
לִדְבִיר בֵּיתֶךָ
Dvir has the same root as the word for speech – DBR / DVR CITE. It is a word associated with the threshold of the Holy of Holies in the Beis Hamikdash; the sanctuary is a place of meeting, relationship communication, interaction, and speech from Avraham to Moshe – vdibarti meil kapores
Hashem – desire my prayer; take it and elevate it into what it might be and ought to be. Take my one-sided prayer and make it suitable for the Holy of Holies; make it a two-sided dialogue.
Unanswered Prayers
Have you ever wanted something so badly that you just kept praying and didn’t stop?
Most people have had a time they desperately wanted something, that if they got it, they’d never ask for anything again; to resolve the issue, find the right one, make a recovery, for the thing to work out okay. People pray hard in those moments, with more intention and hope than all the other times the stakes aren’t so high.
Sometimes those prayers are fulfilled, and the perfect outcome materializes. There are countless books filled with such stories, and their popularity is a product of how inspiring they are and how they supply us with hope to not give up on our own dreams and wishes.
But what about all the other times when the hoped-for outcome doesn’t happen?
No one writes those books; no one would read those books. But it happens all the time.
It even happens to the best and brightest of us, to no less than Moshe himself. In his parting words to his people, he tells them how he prayed and prayed for God’s permission to enter the Land of Israel, the culmination of his life’s work and the only personal indulgence he ever asked for, but God bid him to stop. It wasn’t going to happen, and his prayers would remain unanswered; or at least answered in the negative, if that makes any difference.
Prayer isn’t a wish fulfillment scratch card game; unanswered prayers are a corresponding aspect of prayer that we must acknowledge, that some of them probably aren’t going to go exactly the way you’d like. For our intents and purposes, some prayers go to waste.
The Izhbitzer notes that all existence is wasteful. Entropy is part of all existence and our basic reality; the appearance of decay, randomness, uncertainty, and unwanted outcomes or outputs. Every interaction might have a desired or likely end goal or output, but there will be an inescapable by-product associated with it. Friction is a result of existing, where all effort takes a toll, the transaction tax of all things. In this conception, the Izhbitzer teaches, waste is not a bug; it’s a feature we need to reorient ourselves to.
Fruit and nuts have peels and shells, which we consider waste in terms of our goal of what’s edible; yet they’re fully functional in fulfilling their natural purpose of protecting the fruit. In reality, they are not waste matter in any real sense of the word; Parenthetically, this example deliberately utilizes the imagery of the shells and husks spoken of in Kabbalah – קליפה.
We are finite and limited; all we know is waste. You can be as energetic as you like, but in a couple of hours, you’ll be exhausted, your muscles will fatigue, and you will need to rest, eat, and sleep. When you sleep, your brain clears waste. When you eat and drink, your body will process the calories and nutrients, and you’ll need the restroom to pass waste matter. When you breathe, you breathe out waste gas, carbon dioxide. Our bodies and minds waste; all energy and matter eventually wastes.
It is significant that Pharaoh, the Torah’s great villain, claims to prove his divinity by pretending he did not pass waste; not producing waste indicates something genuinely supernatural, unlimited, and infinite.
The very first service of the day in the Temple was sweeping up the remnants from the day before:
וְהֵרִים אֶת־הַדֶּשֶׁן אֲשֶׁר תֹּאכַל הָאֵשׁ אֶת־הָעֹלָה עַל־הַמִּזְבֵּחַ וְשָׂמוֹ אֵצֶל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ. וּפָשַׁט אֶת־בְּגָדָיו וְלָבַשׁ בְּגָדִים אֲחֵרִים וְהוֹצִיא אֶת־הַדֶּשֶׁן אֶל־מִחוּץ לַמַּחֲנֶה אֶל־מָקוֹם טָהוֹר – He shall take up the ashes from the fire, which consumed the burnt offering on the altar, and place them beside the altar. He shall then take off his vestments, put on other vestments, and carry the ashes outside the camp to a pure place. (6:3,4)
The altar had a fire perpetually fueled with logs by crews round the clock, with a constant stream of sacrifices burnt in whole or in part. Slaughtering and burning animals is messy; there is waste, and the day would begin with a simple dust-sweeping ritual. Some ash would be scooped up and brushed into the floor cracks, becoming integrated into the structure of the Temple. The rest of the ash got carried to a designated quiet spot and deposited and buried, to be left in state. It wasn’t a competitive or glamorous job; it was janitorial and practical, starting the day by cleaning the workspace.
R’ Shamshon Raphael Hirsch notes that this ritual symbolizes how today was built on yesterday; we are yesterday’s children. We honor the past by starting the day with an acknowledgment, incorporating an aspect of it into our being, but most of it has to be left behind to move on and start the day fresh. We must build on and respect the past, but we cannot spend too much time and energy focused on the rearview mirror. Each day brings new challenges, obligations, and opportunities, and we must ultimately leave the past behind us.
The Izbhitzer suggests that this ritual acknowledges and affirms our unanswered prayers, the orphan prayers that get left behind. The day begins with a recognition that even the holiest efforts experience waste, friction, transaction tax, fatigue, and wear and tear. Nothing is lossless, even the best things. Something is always lost in translation; not everything can go the way we hope. But that doesn’t mean the efforts went to waste; the ritual itself refers to the uplifting of this waste – תרומת הדשן.
Some of our efforts and prayers turn to ash; unanswered prayers are a thing, and the Temple service began at dawn by sweeping and disposing of yesterday’s ashes.
Something might be wrong with the road we hoped to travel, or it might be perfect but not meant to be; the hopes and dreams of yesterday might not be the road we must ultimately take. For good reason, we pray on Rosh Hashana to be like heads, not tails. Memory and identity can be burdens from the past; you can live perpetually as yesterday’s tail and never live freely in the present.
There are places, people, and things that come into our lives and shape us for better and for worse; you can only move forward from the place and person you used to be. Those hard-won lessons are precious and something to be thankful for; uplifting of ashes. Be thankful, and let them go gently, so you don’t get stuck; disposal of ashes. Hold on to the things that deserve to be held on to, but hold on out of a renewed commitment to today and tomorrow – not because of inherited commitments from the past.
The thing you prayed for might have been the right thing to pray for yesterday, but today’s service calls for a fresh start or at least a fresh analysis.
We must cherish and honor our past hopes and dreams but ultimately let go and release them to face each day anew.
וְאִשֵּׁי יִשרָאֵל –
Although the fires of service evoke the image of the offerings of old and animal sacrifices, it also means the fires of Israel, the sacred imperishable spark of flame in every Jew.
There’s a Yiddish expression that powerfully captures a vast amount of wisdom in just a few short words: the pintele Yid. It literally means the dot of a Jew, the fundamental essence of Jewish identity, and is perhaps related to the concept of the incorruptible soul – חלק אלוק ממעל. This imagery articulates clearly and plainly that no matter how far you try to distance yourself, there will always remain some tiny spark that lies buried deep within.
The pintele yid, your soul spark, cannot be lost or extinguished; it can only ever lie dormant. Fanning one little spark, just a little can light a whole forest on fire; it will wait patiently for as long as it takes to reignite and burst into flame once again, even if it takes generations.
Lord, lovingly accept the spark of fire in all of us – וְאִשֵּׁי יִשרָאֵל.
There is a more somber reading here as well; the souls that have left this world on fire, the martyrs of every generation – וְאִשֵּׁי יִשרָאֵל.
וּתְפִלָּתָם
We want God to want us as a people, but also our prayers and attempts at connection. In addition to the sacrifices and spark of every Jew, we want to answer their prayers as well – וּתְפִלָּתָם.
It is linked by the conjunctive and to the previous phrase, the fires of Israel. We want God to accept the fire and sacrifice of every Jew, the prayers that come with fire, and also the prayers that don’t – וּתְפִלָּתָם.
וּתְפִלָּתָם is our prayers, and וְאִשֵּׁי יִשרָאֵל is our passion and fervor.
וּתְפִלָּתָם is the set prayers of Shacharis, Mincha, and Maariv, and וְאִשֵּׁי יִשרָאֵל are the spontaneous prayers we all make in the middle of our days.
The Beis Hamikdash had a holy fire that came from heaven and never went out, and yet the law is that a kohen has to light his own fire. There are two types of spiritual awakening – isarusa dileila and dilsata CITE. There are times when a flame of religious spirit and excitement descends from on high, and other times when an awakening is human-generated and self-starting; it’s not beautiful or eternal, but it’s mine – וּתְפִלָּתָם.
We acknowledge our shortcomings; our fire might be weak, but it’s ours and all we have. It might just be a faint spark, but it’s enough – וּתְפִלָּתָם.
מְהֵרָה בְּאַהֲבָה תְקַבֵּל בְּרָצון.
Lovingly accept it; my prayer may fall short of my ability, and my desire may be too small.
But when someone loves you deeply, it doesn’t matter.
Imagine a young couple dating and agreeing they are ready to get engaged. A week goes by, and another, and he hasn’t proposed. She simmered quietly until it was too much and asked him why he hadn’t proposed. He may truthfully say that he didn’t have enough money for the diamond ring he chose and was ashamed to propose, but he missed the moment because it didn’t matter; she still would have said yes.
When we show up with our weak spark, flawed prayers, and imperfect track record, we ask God to accept it for what it is with love.
This blessing asks for God’s love and desire; when you love someone for a particular reason, and the reason stops being the case, it can be hard to maintain that love. When people are together because they’re attractive, what happens as they get older and looks fade? Yet when a couple has a deeper desire and bond, that desire can carry them a lifetime together and beyond; marriage includes the occasional argument and getting angry and upset. But in a healthy marriage, the couple will apologize and repair the relationship; a disagreement or mistake won’t derail their overarching desire and commitment to love each other.
God calls avraham ohavi CITE
There are times we aren’t so loveable, but we can ask God to make it so that we are still loveable – מְהֵרָה בְּאַהֲבָה תְקַבֵּל בְּרָצון.
וּתְהִי לְרָצון תָּמִיד עֲבודַת יִשרָאֵל עַמֶּךָ – And may you always want the service of your people
This can be a request that God desires the best Yisrael has to offer, but it can also more broadly be a request that God wants all of our work, everything that all of us have to offer.
If a girl thinks she’s not intelligent, maybe her parents try to help her feel good about herself. As she gets to the end of high school, they might say it’s okay if she doesn’t pursue higher education; it’s not for everyone. They might be right and doing what they honestly believe is suitable for her, but there might be nothing more hurtful than communicating that they don’t believe in her, confirming all her doubts and insecurities.
It is defeatist to ourselves to think all we can ever do is mediocre.
There are three levels to humility: a person who believes he’s nothing, a person who thinks they’re worthwhile, and a saint who believes he’s nothing.
second naivete
Our work is only acceptable if you accept it with love.
וְתֶחֱזֶינָה עֵינֵינוּ בְּשׁוּבְךָ לְצִיּון בְּרַחֲמִים – May our eyes see as you return to Zion.
The simple reading here is that we want our eyes to Zion; we want to be there.
On a deeper level, one of the things that breaks people is the inability to find meaning in their pain and suffering. You can sit at the doctor while they give you injections and shots, tolerating all manner of pain with the awareness that this is an essential and possibly life-saving treatment. And yet, if someone on the street pricks you with a needle in the same way, it’s entirely different.
We don’t just want to see Zion with our own eyes; we like to see the process of the return to Zion, tying each calamity to a concrete step forward. Suffering from pain, deadened by pain, we need to see why. We ask Hashem to show us how His plan unfolds and develops and how events bring us closer.
There are things we are not supposed to see; the archetype for this is Lot’s wife. Sodom was doomed, but Lot deserved to be saved, and his loved ones too. They were not worthy, but they still got to tag along. They were warned not to look, but Lot’s wife defied the command and was lost with the city. You don’t get to look or feel proud when you get saved without deserving it because it wasn’t on your merit.
We want to look and see Zion on our merit without needing to ride on someone’s coattails or claim pedigree. We want our work to contribute so we can lay eyes on it and say we merited it; we were a worthy generation.
הַמַּחֲזִיר שְׁכִינָתו לְצִיּון – Who cause his presence to return to Zion.
The blessing doesn’t say that God returns His presence to Zion but that He causes it to return. The Hebrew form of hifil, the causative, denotes a forceful action; God can force it to people or places that aren’t especially deserving, even if it doesn’t belong there yet.
Some parts of Jerusalem are the paradigm of Judaism at its very best: prayer, study, charity, hospitality, and healing the sick. But some parts aren’t super compatible; would we say it’s natural for God’s presence to be at home in that environment?
We can hope to be a worthy generation, but the demographics aren’t especially favorable. Assimilation rates and numbers don’t suggest a great outlook; there is only so much outreach and education one can do, there are only so many capable individuals, and there is only so much funding. But God’s presence will come home to a place that isn’t home and make it home once more – הַמַּחֲזִיר שְׁכִינָתו לְצִיּון.
Moreover, we believe that God can’t actually move physically. When we talk about God’s movement, when we say a person is not worthy of Hashem’s closeness, Hashem is no further away or less accessible than He was. He isn’t further away from the person; instead, it’s the person who experiences distance from Hashem – vaya merochok CITE. But God has never moved; God is with us in every moment, in Exile, in Jerusalem, and waiting at the site of the Makom HaMikdash. imo anochi btazara – CITe.
God is in it for the long haul, loving us when we aren’t so loveable, forcing a return to us even if we fall short.
That’s why it’s the beginning of our eternal and infinite gratitude.
Random
This blessing distinguishes itself from the previous one by shifting the focus from what God might do for us to what we might do for God. While the previous blessing concerns God accepting Israel and its prayers, this blessing asks for divine favor and acceptance of Israel’s mission and service. This prayer emphasizes our active role in the divine plan, urging us to align our actions with our spiritual responsibilities, wholeheartedly and with spirit – uvchal nafshechem.
We don’t want for our sake – לֹא לָנוּ ה לֹא־לָנוּ כִּי־לְשִׁמְךָ תֵּן כָּבוֹד עַל־חַסְדְּךָ עַל־אֲמִתֶּך / הֱווּ כַעֲבָדִים הַמְשַׁמְּשִׁין אֶת הָרַב שֶׁלֹּא עַל מְנָת לְקַבֵּל פְּרָס
We want to give to the Creator, not receive.
As R’ Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev notes, our ultimate goal should be to delight the Creator – ‘הִתְהַלְלוּ בְּשֵׁם קדְשׁוֹ יִשְׂמַח לֵב מְבַקְשֵׁי ה / וְעָרְבָה לַה’ מִנְחַת יְהוּדָה וִירוּשָׁלָםִ כִּימֵי עוֹלָם וּכְשָׁנִים קַדְמוֹנִיּוֹת